#changing it a bit from “open starter” to just a starter

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

can I be honest

I need more subby James I really do

like imagine him FINALLY letting you ride him (his face or dick whatever you want to go with) and at first he’s liking it, you know still somewhat dominant as he tells you to continue

BUUUUT as you start to feel yourself a bit more and no longer listen to him he starts to lose control GIVING YOU DOMINANCE WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING

he literally just becomes so subby and needy it almost makes you laugh, but it turns you on so much seeing him beg and sob for more just like he’s made you do MULTIPLE TIMES

I apologize I got carried away 😛

A/n: I see you all the time on my blog so here’s a thanks for all your support Pookie

Warnings: Smut, riding, face riding heavily implied, mommy kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You’d been dating James publicly for over a year, he was rather shy about your relationship and liked keeping his private life private, but you were open and loved talking about it. You’d been dating for almost three years now, keeping most things under wraps, but something slipped recently.

“Jamie?” You called after getting back from shopping, where you were stopped for a quick interview.

“Bedroom.” James called back, he hadn’t really woken up yet. Metallica just got back from a long leg of the tour, he was tired and suffering greatly from jet lag.

You ran up to him and crawled into bed next to him, hiding under his arm as he lay on his stomach. “Jamie, quick question,” you started. James got up, holding himself up just enough to reach his glass of water on the nightstand. “Why can’t I ride you?” He choked on his water.

“The fuck kind of question is that first thing in the morning?” He grumbled, staring at you wide eyed and brows furrowed, confused beyond anything.

You rolled over, staying close to him. “Ok, it’s well past noon, for starters.” You said, he rolled his eyes and adjusted so he was on his back, arm under your head now. “And, um, I did a thing.” James was quiet a moment.

“You did a thing?” He asked, not looking at you. “You did what thing?”

You chewed your cheek, recalling the earlier events to him.

You left a favourite store of yours, bags in tow, and were walking down the road feeling happy with your new purchases. A younger man came up to you, holding his phone out in one hand and a pocket sized mic in the other.

“Sorry to bother you,” he started, “you’re y/n, right? James Hetfield’s girlfriend?” You smiled proudly and nodded. “Would you mind giving me a short interview?” You agreed, forgetting your tendency to ramble.

He asked one question and that led to another and you were off. “James is great! He gives me everything I could need and I return the favour.” You said with a wink.

The young man grinned. “Is that so?” He asked, he didn’t care about James but that’s all you were thinking about. “Care to tell us a bit about his favourite favours?”

“You told him what?!” James yelled, sitting up. Your lips pursed into a pout.

“I’m sorry, James! I got carried away…” You mumbled, sitting up with him. He couldn’t stay mad at you, but he could be mad at you.

“You just let the whole fucking world know how you get fucked.” He bit.

“No, I didn’t!” You exclaimed, pausing before continuing. “I told them how I don’t get fucked.” James glared at you for a long several moments. “Jamie, it’s not that bad, all I said was that I’ve never ridden you.” His expression hardened.

“Not that bad?” He repeated. “Not that bad- you are telling people about our sex life!” You chewed your cheek, gaze wandering.

“Not to, uh, change the subject, but-“ James was already flopping back over in bed, turning his back to you and laying on your side. “-is there a reason you won’t let me ride you? Like, your thigh is fine, but we’ve gotten pretty close to actually doing it, you always flip me over.” James was quiet for a long several moments. “Jamie?”

“I’m just wondering if you’re really thick enough to be asking me that right now.” He grumbled, not bothering to look at you. You stared at him a moment longer before laying behind him and resting your chin on his shoulder. He let out a soft sigh. “I love you.” He muttered, knowing that’s all you needed.

“I love you, too, Jamie…” he knew there was more. “Please? Just once, and I’ll never ask again… you’re sexy when you’re mad.” You pecked his cheek, a smile crossing his face when you called him sexy. Ever the ego on this man.

“I’m not just a faucet you can turn on and off again.” He mumbled.

You shifted closer to him, a hand on his side and rubbing him slow, moving down. “Please, daddy, hah, fuck~” James shot you a look at your fake moaning, you smiled proudly right back at him.

“Alright, get over here.” You laughed as he rolled on top of you, attacking your neck with messy kisses.

After rolling around and James asking repeatedly to just let him fuck you, you were both naked and you were straddling his lap, hands planted firmly on his chest and hovering over him. James’s hands were on your hips, holding you tight. “You know, this doesn’t undo the interview, right?” He asked, thumbs rubbing small circles onto your sides.

“Yeah, I know, but it might make you feel better.” You mused, leaning down and rolling your hips on his cock. He let out a low groan as he slid between your wet folds. “I’ll make you feel really good~” the second groan was higher, closer to a moan, but you didn’t say anything.

He guided your hips, sinking you down on his cock and helping lift you up and down slowly. James’s face went bright red, blush creeping down his neck and to his chest. “That-that’s good, just keep-keep doing that, babygirl.” James said, trying to maintain control but it was getting harder. He couldn’t let people ride him, he learned that one fast; he lost all control and became a whimpering, moaning, whining mess. He felt pathetic afterwards, he just couldn’t do it.

His eyes trailed down your body, watching your tits bounce, the muscles in your legs working to bounce you up and down, his cock stretching your cunt, all perfectly in view for him. You looked down and saw that belly bulge you loved so much, always made you feel so full. “Fuck, Jamie, look~” You purred, pressing on the bump, a gasp leaving you as you did.

James bit his lip, watching your every move. His brows knit together, ears peeking at the sound of your thighs clapping on his stomach. His head fell back with a huff, hips bucking up into you, not thrusting like he usually did, there was not aim to fuck you, it was an instinctive reaction followed by a whine.

James swallowed thickly. “That- you’re doing so good, sweetheart, just- a-a little faster now.” He urged, forcing his hips to stay still.

You stared at him, not slowing in your movements but taking in his state. A grin spread across your face. “Jamie, how are you feeling?” You asked, his hands were barely guiding you now, making you do more work but it was worth it to see this kind of reaction.

He opened his mouth to speak but all the came out was a whine. “Ngh-! Fuck, look so-so pretty right now.” He mumbled, eyes trailing over you again, taking in every inch.

“Yeah?” You asked, rolling your hips now, nice and slow for him. “You look really, really good right now, pretty boy.” He whine at that too. “So noisy.” You leaned down, capturing his lips in a deep kiss, letting his sounds fill your mouth. Your hand gliding up his side, reaching his chest and finding his nipple, all pink and perky. You flicked it and he let out the sweetest whimper you’d ever heard. “Want me to do it again?” You asked.

“Yes, please, mommy.” He blurted without even thinking, it made your cunt clench.

“Oh, that’s a very good boy.” You purred, taking his nipple between your thumb and pointer, pinching it roughly so his back was arching off the bed. He was gasping and whining, pleading for you to let him cum. “Already? You wanna cum before mommy?” You asked. “And so soon, poor boy can’t handle feeling so good.” Your lips pursed in a mocking pout. “Why don’t we just stop all together?” You asked, lifting your hips until just his tip was in you still.

James’s eyes shot open wide, panic setting in at the thought of stopping when he was so close already. “No! No, please, mommy, want it so bad, please! I-I can make you cum, I can-“ he was cut off when you slammed yourself back onto him, your own eyes rolling as his cock hit you perfectly. A loud moan ripped from him, hitting your ears like a song. “Just like that, please, mommy.” He whined, eyes filling with tears.

Again you lifted your hips, not only because he wanted you to but because it felt so good. You fell again, it only took a few more, each one drawing out an increasingly desperate whine out of him, before he came, filling you completely with his cum. You kept riding him, slower now, just to let him ride out his high.

When his body was twitching and tears were rolling down his cheeks you moved, getting off his cock and moving up the bed, hovering over his face and dripping cum over him. “Be a good boy and clean up the mess you made in mommy.” You said, sitting yourself on his face.

[veiledfox]

Open Please (Artig - me, looking for a reason 2 make him and Ren interact tbh) (maybe this will be it <333)

"Open Please" For me to write a starter

There's a soft sigh from the bronze-haired man as he walks the sidewalk, his arms crossed with a small shopping bag hanging from the hand tucked under his one arm. "For all the praise Axel gives this Realm, it's not all that different from our own." Speaking to himself, aloud, though in a somewhat hushed tone and volume. "Sure, there's definitely a lack of Mythos presence, but even I can sense there's more than just Humans here. It's subtle, but it's certainly present. Though, of course, none of these Humans can sense it..."

Taking a brief glance around at those surrounding him going about their own ways on the street. After which he closes his eyes, letting his head hang forward with a soft sigh. Stopping in place, shifting his weight to one foot to tap the other a bit in thought. "What to do for the rest of the day...?"

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

♡ gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[charlizelesso]

Girls night secret (18+)

Emily prentiss x reader

Part 2

Content; smut, oral, fingering, dry humping, emily prentiss being hot AF

A/N for my first fic I felt almost obliged to do a season 18 emily with glasses fic so I hope people enjoy x

When Penelope invited you to girls night you jumped at the chance, you had been a part of the BAU for a little under 6 months and you finally felt you were getting a grasp on things and making friends. Especially Penelope and JJ, they had been welcoming from your very first day and so you were over the moon that they were inviting you into their monthly girls night. The one thing that you had not accounted for however was your boss, Emily Prentiss. When penelope gave you the address you had assumed that it was her house so when you show up with a bottle of wine and knocked on the door only for Emily prentiss to answer, hair piled up on the top her head, black wide rim glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Hiya there hon” she says with a shit eating grin on her face that makes your heart flutter as she opens the door and welcomes you in. 

You walk into the house in a bit of a daze, both Penelope and JJ are already set up on the couch wine in hand and you soon find yourself joining them with a generous glass of wine in your hand courtesy of Emily and soon the conversation starts flowing. The more wine you each consume the more left field the conversations get until soon the topic lands on sex. You could feel a flush across your face when JJ casually asks you “ so what is the craziest way that a man has ever made you come” she asks with such a straight look on her face that you do a double take and giggle before speaking slowly. “Well for starters I can't say as I have ever had sex with a man to find out”, JJ does a double take “wait honey are you still a virgin” you quickly correct her “what.. No I just have an affinity for the finer sex is all” you say with an innocent smile on your face. It is emily's face however that draws your attention at your mention of your orientation you notice her face flush just a little as she leans forward just a little, JJ gasps a little before uttering out an apology “ oh my god I am so so sorry for assuming of course you are into women you totally give that vibe that's totally cool, ok same question then but women”.

You smiled at their quick acceptance before answering “ truth be told I cannot say that there is any one…. Encounter that stands out, sex has just never been that amazing for me to be honest” . Penelope looks at you with pity before saying “ Honey you have never had that kind of mind blowing, life changing sex before - the kind that makes you flutter just thinking about it again” you look down almost ashamed before responding “ nope not really just never happened for me I guess”, they all looked at you with pity before moving on the conversation. 

As the night wound down JJ left to go home to her kids and penelope left not long after because she said she had to be up early the next morning for some sort of arts and crafts class, that left you alone in silence with Emily still sitting across from her in her own lounge, the tension palpable. You would never admit it but you had had the biggest crush on her since you started at the BAU you had always had a thing for older women but Emily Prentiss takes the cake, her silver hair and those damn glasses, looking at her now with them perched on her face you swear she was god's gift to sapphic women. Emily suddenly sat forward and spoke “do you know I really didn't clock you ya know and I usually have a pretty good gaydar” you stare at her slightly confused before she continues “is it true what you said before about never having mind blowing sex before”  you were growing even more confused by the minute but you didn't not like where this conversation was going “ um yeah unfortunately I have not been especially fortunately in that department” you say with you head hung low. Emily gets up from where she is sitting and moves slowly towards you across the room sitting down next to you a little too close for people who just work together, she puts her hand on your thigh a little too high for people who just work together and your breath catches in your throat. “Do you want me to show you honey?” , you think you must have misunderstood her so you turn to look right in her eyes (big mistake) she looks you so intently in the eye that you feel she can see into your soul and stutter “wwhat?”. She leans closer to you until her mouth is right next to your ear before whispering breathaly “Do you want me to show you what fucking amazing sex feels like, sex so good that I will have you forgetting your own name before I am done with you” you struggle to breathe and before you know it she is wispering in your ear again “tell me if I am wrong but now that I know that you are into women it all makes sence, you have been looking at me in a certain way ever since you started at the BAU, in a way that makes me think that you would absolutely love it if I made you cum harder than any other woman has been able to make you before, am I wrong?”. 

At this point it had sunk in that this is actually happening right now and you were definitely getting excited yet somehow this just all seemed too good to be true but then she pulls you into her lap and you actually gasp. She leans in again and coos “do you want me to fuck you so hard you forget your own name baby?” at this point you lose all composure and nearly cum right there in her lap. When you don't answer right away she repeats herself in a more stern tone “baby I need you to answer me right now” she says and it almost sounds like she is as desperate for this as you are which only turns you on more. You roll your hips in her lap and make a sound very unbecoming of a grown woman before responding “ god, yes please fuck emily you have no idea what you do to me, please show me, please” you roll your hips again against her but she grips your hips with both of her hands… god her hands. “I am going to make you feel so good baby but you need to do as I say sweet girl ok?” you lean forward and whimper into her neck (another mistake) her scent is intoxicating and leaves you incapable of speaking so you just nod into her neck whilst still trying to grind in her lap but her hands on your hips stilled your movements causing you to wine into her neck. “Now baby if I am going to show you a fucking good time it is not going to be on my couch” with that she stands up as you wrap your legs around her waist and she carries you through her house to here bedroom before placing you down on her bed in the centre of the room.

“ Stay” she instructs as you try to get up to move closer to her again, “ a big part of having mind blowing unforgettable sex is the build up, the anticipation, the feeling that you may die if you do not get what is being dangled in front of you” she flashes you that insanely sexy smirk before, much to your surprise, she starts to slowly undress right there in front of you and you think you may actually combust. She starts by slowly bringing her baggy jumper up and over her head giving you a mouth watering view of her contoured stomach and perfect breasts still being hugged by a sexy maroon bra, she flings the jumper out of sight before swaying her hips whilst moving closer to you still sat on the bed watching in awe. Next she starts to shimmy out of her lounge shorts to reveal that she was wearing a matching pair of maroon pants but what really takes the cake is when you notice the growing damp patch front and centre on her underwear and you make a small gasp, she only smirks and moves closer still until she brings herself down in your lap straddling both of your thighs bring her face inches from yours “ are you feeling good yet baby?” she coos and you violently nod your head and reach out to touch her but she slaps your hand away and tsks at you. “This is about making you feel good baby, can we think about me later ok?”, you simply let her take the lead as she slowly crawls up your body until she has her mouth hovering over yours and it is only then that you realise that she hasn't even kissed you yet.

You look up at her with pleading eyes and genuinely beg, actually beg her to do something “ please god please emily kiss me do something just please” you are not even embarrassed at your begging you are too far past that point as she finally leans down and connects her lips to yours in a fierce and passionate kiss that makes you entire body tingle in the best way possible. She continues to kiss you in the best ways as her hands slowly begin exploring your body, mapping and tracing every curve and spot until you cannot take it anymore and you let out a choked sob “please Emily please touch me please make me cum”. That seemed to ignite something in her and she almost growls as she starts to move down you body peeling your tank top off to grope at your boobs through your thin bra so you could feel everything, your nipple tightened under her touch and you arch your back into her fingers silently begging for more. Finally when she settles between your thighs she grabs your shorts and underwear and pulls them down together exposing you to her fully and completely. She gasps when she sees what a mess you are between your legs, she reaches down and gently swipes two fingers through the mess you have made and brings it up to your face to show you “look you are such a messy girl aren't you baby” she coos before pushing her fingers past your lips forcing you to taste yourself on her fingers. After she is satisfied that she has caused the desired effect she pulls her fingers from your mouth with a pop, she looks up to make eye contact with you before lowering her head between your legs still in those bloody glasses and takes a long swipe of her tongue right through your wetness causing you to jerk your hips up into her face. She doubles down her efforts with her tongue like she is tasting a fine delicacy, you cry out when she brings a finger up to your entrance and start playing with it as she continues to lick and suck at your clit. Without warning she pushes one finger deep inside you meeting little resistance and making you gasp for air “ holy shit emily I never know it could feel this good I knew it could be better but this…. I could never have imagined it could…..” but before you could finish your sentence a second finger joints the first curling to hit that spot no one had ever reached before inside of you leaving you speechless as you mindlessly buck your hips into her hand and face. “Fuck emily i’m going to come, I am going to come so fucking hard right now” you sob as she doubles down on her efforts muttering right into your thigh “come for me baby, come so hard you forget your own name” and you did almost as if on command. You felt something snap inside of you as your orgasm hit you like a freight train slamming into you. Your vision blurs and you see spots as you try to keep breathing as your orgasm wrecks you, Emily still between your legs helping you ride your high for as long as possible. Once your orgasm had finally subsided she withdrew her fingers and crawled back up your body to capture your mouth in a fierce kiss muttering “was that memorable enough for you baby” you could only smile into her neck utterly spent from the strongest and best orgasm someone had ever given you. You curled up into her and simply muttered “Thank you” before falling asleep in her arms, she giggled slightly before pulling you close and simply holding you knowing that there was so much more yet to come.

A/N omg to anyone reading this thank you so much for reading my first published fic, please let me know if you want me to write a part 2 to this perhaps with the favor being given back to emily or perhaps Pen and JJ sussing them out at work the next day when they cant keep their hands off each other, but I am open to suggestions and requests so please let me know x

[dropsnectar]

Witches Brew 

Slime monster x afab!witch

Happy October! Here's some spooky smut for the spooky season!

It was October and Halloween was just around the corner! So! Of course you were bubbling up some witches brew for one of your most busy seasons of the year. 

You stood in your studio apartment, walls covered in wooden shelves. Atop of those shelves were bottles full of your favorite things: dry herbs, powder mixes, and other potion and spellcasting tools you would need for your work. In the middle of the room stood a big cast iron cauldron. You had arranged some cement blocks to hold an electric fire starter underneath it, as you didn't have a fireplace. It was hard being a witch in the city, but you made do. This was where all the clientele was, after all.

You were standing over the boiling cauldron, an old grimiore in one hand, and mixing the golden liquid with another. The grimoire was your great grandmother something you had recently inherited. You were practically shaking with excitement! Your great grandmother had been an excellent witch, known far and wide for her potions. You had flipped through her book and found it, a recipe for her “Extremely Special Witches Brew”, the first two words being underlined. Witches brew was the basis of so much potion work. If it was extremely special then that must mean it was incredibly potent!

You had been brewing for about six hours now. The recipe started out incredibly normal, but had specified that you stare it down for the next hour, adding a lock of your own hair and some mermaid scales. This had been the most difficult bit, as mermaid scales had a habit of boiling over the pot unless babied with compliments and sweet words. Unusual for witches brew, but you trusted your grandmother. 

You had finally finished your hour of staring, marveling and cooing, turning off the fire starter. The next step was to let it cool. When it was finished, the grimoire specified, the mixture would condense and turn a lovely green color. 

You waited another hour and checked on the brew. Strange. There had been no change in consistency, and the color remained as gold as the sun on a winter's day. You waited another hour. Nothing.

You cursed. Were had you gone wrong? This recipe had been incredibly expensive, and you'd made ALOT of it, expecting to use it for the rest of the year. Upset, you went to bed early, muttering yourself to sleep.

It was around midnight when something started to stir in the cauldron. Any waking ear would have heard the sputtering and gurgling as the magic started to awaken.  Slowly, a small green tendril dripped its way onto the floor, continuously flowing until the full glob, the size of a small person made its way to the floor. Slowly, it rolled across the carpet and stopped at the bed. It watched you sleep for a moment before pulling itself up into the foot of the bed, under your covers.

You woke up feeling something crawl up your thighs. When you opened your eyes you glanced up, not seeing anything. But their was a pressure on you, something cool and wet, like a weighted blanket was curling itself up towards your core.

You tore your blanket off of you and saw it, a dark building sludge, glowing beautifully under the moonlight streaming from your window. 

You were so shocked, you didn't react. That was, until it had decided to pull itself under your panties and push itself between your lips. You gasped out as it completely covered you, gliding back and forth against your entrance and up towards your clit. It was pushing and closing all around you, the wetness feeling so good against your skin. 

Despite the fact that your stomach was in knots you tried to push the glob off of you. Your hands made contact, but pushed right through, into the creature. You tried to pull your arms out, but the thing tightened around them. You tried to leverage your weight, pulling back as hard as you could, but only managed to pull the thing with you as you rocked back.

The thing was heavy, pushing down your tummy and making its way up your chest. It did not stop sliding up and down your vulva, your breath hitching as it seemed to catch at your entrance. There was an experimental push there and you squirmed, your heart in your throat. 

Suddenly, the area felt even more slippery then it did before. The creature started to glow, a soft grass green, as all across your skin, the thing seemed to seep some sort of liquid. You could feel it drip down the crevices of your groin, down the slopes of your chest as you noticed the thing start to disintegrate your nightgown.

You wriggled as much as you could, trying to push back arousal as you shimmied to the edge of the bed. But the creature had a grip on you and the more you moved the faster it started to glide and explore the planes of your now exposed skin. It was fully enveloping you.

You gasped as it pushed into your entrance, a slippery tendril slowly making its way up and around your walls, leaving behind a sticky liquid as it moved. Your body was slowly starting to tingle. Your breathe was becoming even more ragged and the cool and slick textured of the sludge started to feel even more pleasant then it had before. 

Your mind was getting fuzzy. The feeling of the thing on your skin, paired with the weight, while previously scary, was really stoking the fire in your core. Hadn't you been so desperate lately for a feeling like this? To feel the weight of a lover as you mewled out from under them?

Your vision started to get fuzzy too. Fuzzy. You felt fuzzy all over. The need in you continued to grow as all you could concentrate on was the sudden movements on every part of your body. Hot. You felt hot..

Your waist, the curves of your breast, your inner thighs, your nipples, they were being caressed, grabbed, groped. All of this continued as a sharp sucking started to occur on your clit. You cried out, not caring if the neighbors could hear you as it sucked wave after wave of pleasure from your skin. 

More tendrils had made their way into your hot wet cunt. The girth of it made you buck your hips, straining beautifully under the the green glowing creature. You liked how it pushed you back down, experimenting with where to shift its weight as you keened out.

Green.

The witches brew. The Extremely Special witches brew.

Fuck.

You weren't able to think further as a large girthy tendril suddenly shot itself into you, thrusting into you with force. There was a needle like sucking of your nipples as the thing glided circles over every surface of your body. It was so much sensation you could barely think. The thrusting quickening its pace, pushing harder and faster into you until you broke, your orgasm rocking through you like an earthquake. 

But it didn't stop thrusting. And you didn't stop wanting it to fuck you, jerking your wobbly pelvis into the tendrils with futility. You giggled as the slime started to massage more fluid onto your vulva and cunt. Cum and aphrodisiac trickled out of you as the thing bullied that spongy spot that made you see stars. 

You had started to drool, which attracted the attention of the glob near your chest. A slimy tendril made its way to the drool streaming down your neck and chest, sucking. It seemed to be devouring the liquid as it made its way into your mouth, sucking your skin and tongue. You moaned around it, an herby taste oozing. You recognized some of the notes as ingredients in your brew.

 A silent chuckle vibrated through your chest. Mermaid scales. Worth every buck.

You came again. And again. And again. The slime fucked you over so much that you couldn't quite understand where it started and you began. You were so needy and so desperate for the next orgasm that you didn't notice the sunlight streaming down onto your conjoined bodies.

Some tendrils had made its way to your face, pushing back hair and sucking lazily on the sweat streaming down your forehead. Then, the coil within you snapped one more time, washing over you like a gentle wave on the beach. And the thrusting stopped. The sucking stopped.

The tendrils within you started to recede and form back into the main glob of the creature. It started to absorb all the slick of your body, leaving a lone bouncy weight on your skin. 

The two of you laid like that for a while as you caught your final breath, barely able to stay conscious. The thing started to prod circles into your sore aching muscles. You heard a keening sound. That surprised you a little. But that keen had been filled with so much affection, your heart couldn't help but be affected. 

As you lost consciousness, one thought stayed in your mind.

Best fucking spell ever. 

[demie90s]

A Little Bit In Love With You

Inês Bettencourt x mean!quiet!fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: She’s sunshine, you’re a shadow. You don’t talk unless it’s necessary, don’t smile unless it’s for her.

Genre: Soft romance, college sports, slice of life, hurt/comfort

Warnings: Strong language, emotional vulnerability, clinginess, excessive softness from an otherwise emotionally unavailable reader

Word Count ~0.4k

They don’t get it.

I mean, why would they? I don’t talk to them. I show up to practice, drop 20, lock shit down on defense, and dip before half the team even gets to their water bottles. Not mean—not on purpose. I just don’t have it in me to fake smile or ask about someone’s cat when I don’t care. Not unless I have to.

Except with Inês.

With Inês, I’m soft. Stupid soft. Baby-talking and gift-giving and forehead-kissing soft. I’m opening her Gatorade and holding her jersey while she changes like we not both starters. I’m melting the moment she sits down, abandoning three open seats just to curl up behind her like my body forgot it had bones. Back to chest. Arms wrapped around her waist. Nose in her curls. Hands tracing her fingers just because I can.

It’s embarrassing. I don’t care.

The rest of the team be looking like they just seen Bigfoot cry. Like: ain’t that the girl who don’t even say “hi”?

Yeah. That’s me. But this is Inês. And I don’t play about her.

She’ll be gone for one day—just one—and suddenly I’m answering people. Asking questions. They’ll be like, “you alright?” and I’ll shrug like, no. I’m not alright. I miss her. My air gone. My serotonin left with her bus. I’m interactive when I’m in pain, okay?

And then the minute she’s back, I’m silent again. Right back on mute unless I’m whispering in her ear or telling her how good she looked during warmups.

Team bonding nights. I’m not tryna go. I don’t like group chats, shared playlists, or icebreakers. I don’t wanna “bond.” But Inês’ll look at me with that soft little tilt in her smile, and suddenly I’m in the van, hoodie up, quiet as hell, but showing up. For her.

We get there and the seats are open—but not for me. I’m in her lap or I’m behind her, head on her shoulder like she built for it. Someone tries to sit next to her? I glare, they move. Simple math.

And when it’s just us?

That’s when I’m loud. When I’m living. Taking her pictures like she’s Naomi on a runway, giving commentary.

“Put ya foot like this—YES. Now hit that lil over-the-shoulder—ouuuu, that’s my baby.”

“Smile. No—smize. Show these hoes why I’m unwell every damn day.”

She laughs. Always laughing with me like it’s the first time she’s heard me speak. Like I’m still surprising her. She don’t even post half the stuff I record but I do it anyway. Because it’s her. And I gotta document what heaven look like while I’m alive.

I send her food without her asking. I’ll be in another state, another time zone, and still making sure she got her Chick-fil-A or her little sweetbread from the local bakery she likes. I keep her ring light in my bag. Carry her edge brush like it’s a personal mission.

And the wildest part? I don’t want credit. I don’t need them to understand. They can whisper, speculate, side-eye all they want.

’Cause when she leans into me at the end of a long game, tired and sore, and I kiss her hand like I ain’t a whole monster outside this relationship—

I remember why I’m still breathing. Why I ain’t vanished yet. Why I ain’t dropped out. Why I show up, again and again, to a world I barely like.

Her.

That’s the point.

And if you still don’t get it? You never had someone like Inês. And I hope you do. I really do. ’Cause that girl is the reason I don’t burn this whole place down.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[candyredmusings]

Slay The Princess Sentence Starters

Sentences taken from Slay The Princess: The Pristine Cut by Blacktabby Games! Change Pronouns As Needed!

CW: Angst, Fluff, Comedic, Romantic

"Now we can both enjoy the mutual romantic subtext to this murder!"

"Yeah do you not know what The Look is? Even I know what The Look is."

"Do you think we can throw her out the window?"

"Hey you threw it out the window even though I just told you not to, I'm proud of you!" 

“WHY DO YOU HATE ME?” 

“What do you mean? This is what you wanted. Idiot.” 

"We ain't done yet, we get up."

"She asks that I tell you to remember her. You won't." 

"BEHOLD! The PERFECT woman!"

“I didn’t think you’d come back. We’re going to have a lot of fun, you and I!” 

“He’s making fun of us!”

“If only I were capable of throwing myself off a bridge.”

"Do I miss your heart because I can’t stand to see it go?"

“I will not be described into submission.” 

"By believing in your limitations you put a shackle on your neck."

"The number of stabbing implements I have is practically zero!"

"The world can't be bad if you're still in it."

"There are few things more terrifying than one's own heart, and there is almost nothing more terrifying than sharing it with another."

" ...do you not have anything witty to say? I could use a good bit of wit right now."

"The End. Nice knowing you."

"You're using a lot of words to say a lot of nothing."

"But violence and passion are dances that both of us know well."

"No. You stop that! Stop all this nonsense."

"If you want us to ignore her, then why did you tell us any of that 'wide pleadin eyes begging for mercy' business to begin with?"

"Whatever you're trying to do right now, you don't have to do it alone."

"You have no idea how good it is to hear you."

"I think you know who I am."

"HA! YOU BASTARD! Even face-to-face, you find a way to stab me in the back."

"I know you and you're hideous! Absolutely wretched! Just like me!"

"You ask of things that cannot be done."

"Why wouldn't I be kind to you? You are the only thing I know that isn't me."

"Fuck this guy. Don't trust him."

"You will have your rest in due time, and I am sorry for the burdens I place on you."

"I would never dare to tarnish our relationship by assuming myself above you."

"Names are their attempts to capture that which cannot be captured."

"Sweet! I've always wanted to off a monarch. Viva la revolucion!" 

"Oh, you bastard! You're in for it now. I'm wise to your tricks!"

“My will triumphs yours."

"We've hurt each other plenty, and I still like you."

"What nooo I wouldn't stab you."

"Why? Why did you let me do this?!"

"It takes a wretch to know a wretch, and we're all at the bottom of the barrel here."

"They're good questions. Great questions, even. But they don't have any answers."

“Do not mourn her; She has finally been heard.”

"Last time? If somebody came into my house and tried to kill me and I cut his neck open and then he stabbed me in the heart and we both died looking into each other's eyes, well, surely I would remember that! But I don't, so it must not have happened!"

"I just want to make you happy!"

"You've been kinder to me than anyone else I've met. Thank you."

“I’m not going to destroy the world, but I am going to hold it in my hands and squeeze it.”

"Oh that's right! Yeah, fuck this guy, don't trust him."

"If the world ended, how are we talking?"

"I'm going to die now! I think that's what you want."

"You've changed"

"And you've stayed exactly the same"

"I'll be damned. We're doomed."

 For everyone's sake, you're not in love."

 "They always say it's lonely at the top. I didn’t think they actually meant it."

“Ignore all the criticism. You’re doing great!” 

"She's been like me this whole time. She's just been hiding it."

 "Of course I'm not okay! I've never been okay. But maybe I needed to never be okay for us to make this happen"

[axeeglitter]

Contract of the Flesh

Jonathan Bell used to be the proud owner of a small artisan bakery tucked into a quiet street corner of Vancouver. With warm wood interiors, rustic loaves, and a dream that rose like his sourdough starters, he thought he had finally carved out his own space in the world. But dreams, like pastries, can collapse if the heat is too high and the timing too wrong.

The pandemic had gutted foot traffic. Costs rose. Rent doubled. Desperate to keep the doors open, Jonathan took out loans from sources he didn’t understand, hidden behind sleek business cards and fake smiles. Men who never wrote their names down, who only gave numbers and took them back later with sharp interest. Jonathan couldn’t accept to lose his dream. Not after all he had done to make it a reality. He just needed more time to jump back on track. But every day, less and less customer came and soon he was the only one in there.

After 4 more month of struggle and financial deficit, the bakery closed permanently. Jonathan lost everything; his business, his dream, his confidence. But the debts remained. And they were due. After another terrible mental day of giving his resume to every possible company he could think of, he finally was on his way back home. His shoulders were low and his back broken by the weight of the responsibilities and his anxiety. As he walked in front of what was once his bakery, he saw that the place was now empty of life and hope. Everything had been taken down except the sign on the front with “Bakery” written in gold. Jonathan sighed and his shoulders fell back a bit lower as he resumed his path. “Excuse me sir! Do you know what happened to this place? I heard it was a really bakery but I see it’s closed.” He heard from behind him as he turned back to see who was talking. Jonathan stood there, not answering for a couple of second before realizing the young couple was talking to him. “Oh Hello. Sorry I was lost in my thoughts. Well yes, I know. This bakery was mine but I had to close a couple of weeks ago. The pandemic and the big Supermarket grabbed my last clients and I couldn’t face it anymore. Sorry but you are coming a bit too late!” he finished trying to change the mood of the conversation with a faint smile as he turned his way back to resume his path. “In fact, I think we are coming right at the perfect timing!” said the couple as they jumped on Jonathan’s back, taking him out as he fainted on the spot.

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

Jonathan woke in a place he didn’t recognize.

The room was dark, lit only by the low glow of strange machines and an overhead bulb that cast him in stark, dramatic light. He was strapped tightly to a cold, metallic chair with his arms and legs restrained. His breath came fast, fogging the air in front of him. Every muscle in his body ached, and terror sat like a stone in his chest.

In front of him, lounging on a velvet couch that looked out of place in such an industrial space, sat a man in a mahogany coat and a white shirt. He was tall, lean, and somehow too composed. His eyes, a pale steel-gray, didn’t blink. Two more men stood flanking the couch.

Jonathan swallowed hard. “Please,” he said, voice dry. “Where am I?”

The man on the couch tilted his head slowly, like a wolf considering its prey.

“You borrowed,” he said quietly. “You signed. Now you repay.” Jonathan’s eyes opened big as he understood who this person lurching in the shadows was.

“Mister Alaric. I; if I could just explain,” Jonathan stammered, his voice cracking as he shifted against the bindings. “The bakery failed. I’m looking for a job so I can repay you. I will pay, I just need some more time. I didn’t know what I was getting into. I didn’t know you…”

“You knew enough to take the money.”

There was no anger in the man’s voice. That terrified Jonathan more than shouting ever could. This wasn’t a negotiation. It was a statement.

In a smooth and soft movement, the men got up and for the first time, Jonathan could see his face. He took a step on the left and went to the desk on the left corner of the room where he grabbed and opened a wooden box Jonathan watched, trembling in fear and anticipation as he thought it was the end. But when the men turned back, he was holding a pair of glasses between his rugged fingers. It looked like a pair of futuristic-looking glasses, with slim lenses and a pulsing blue edge shining in the internal side of the glasses. He slipped them onto his face and smile before taking a pause in his path.

Invisible to Jonathan’s eyes, the glasses lit on with a pressure of the men’s fingers on the branches and a panel of light flared into the air around him. His hand moved slowly through the space around him, moving left and right, up and down, like if he was adjusting parameters on invisible sliders.

Jonathan blinked. “What are you doing? What is it?”

No answer.

The man turned his head slightly toward the empty chair beside Jonathan. With a smooth, practiced gesture, he swiped something in the air and reality started to ripple and adjust. The chair began to shimmer, its form flickering like a broken screen. The edges warped, twisted, and melted. Within seconds, the chair had become a tall bottle of whiskey sitting on a small wooden table.

Jonathan stared, frozen in surprise and incomprehension. “How is it possible? What happened?!” he screamed as tears of sweat started to pour from his forehead.

The man stood, plucked the bottle from the air like it had always been there, and poured himself a glass. He sat back down and sipped, still watching Jonathan.

No explanation. No warning.

“How is that possible? What happened to the chair? What was that?” Jonathan continued, still surprised and terrified about what happened next to him. In front of his eyes, the reality adjusted and the chair had disappeared. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t.

“So, as I was saying, Jonathan. You owe me money.” The men said in a calm voice taking a sip of whisky.

Jonathan’s breathing was shallow, his eyes darting wildly around the room, trying to find logic to what just happened, a way out, something, anything. But it was the man in the glasses who moved instead; slow, measured, confident.

He took another sip of whisky before putting it on the table on his right, stood from the couch and walked closer to Jonathan’s bound, trembling form. The soft click of his shoes echoed in the strange, sterile space. Jonathan felt his skin crawl.

The man crouched to his level. Their eyes met. Jonathan’s lips quivered.

“I don’t understand; please. Let me go” he whispered, a single tear escaping the corner of his eye.

The man reached forward with one hand and gently wiped the tear away with the tip of his index finger.

“You will.” Mister Alaric said simply before walking a few steps back to face him. He then snapped his fingers and the two men standing behind the couch started to walk to Jonathan. Still bonded to the chair with duct tape, Jonathan couldn’t do anything except seeing the two men walking in his direction. “Please no! Stop! I’m sorry. Don’t…” Jonathan couldn’t finish his sentence as one of the men grabbed a pair of scissors and started to cut open Jonathan’s shirt in the middle of the chest. The other one did the same with the pair of jeans he was wearing. Then the same happened with Jonathan’s underwear. After a couple of minutes, Jonathan stood there, naked but still attached to the chair. His clothes shredded on his body and on the ground beneath his feet.  “Thank you. You can go now.” Said Mister Alaric nodding to his bodyguards as they exited the room. Leaving it only between him and Jonathan’s naked body. “Now, I think we should start, shall we?” Mister Alaric said as for the first time, Jonathan could see a fainted smile creep on the corner of his lips. Jonathan watched, heart hammering in his chest, as the man lifted his hand again and began to move his fingers through the air. To Jonathan, it looked like he was miming gestures in an invisible box. He couldn't see the panels, the floating fields of data, sliders, toggles, each one labeled with anatomical terms and arcane modifiers.

The man’s eyes glowed behind the lenses as he stared at Jonathan. Every motion he made adjusted the reality until the simulation he was working with finally satisfied his envies. “Perfect” Mister Alaric said in a calm emotionless voice as his fingers double clicked on an invisible checkbox. “Please, I promise I will pay you ba… aaAAhhHHH” Jonathan screamed as an alien sensation invaded his whole body. It felt like his core was imploding, his cells exploding and imploding at the same time before merging back together. His vision blurred before coming back to normal again and again with every beat of his heart.

Jonathan shrieked as his spine pulled upward, vertebrae grinding, bones stretching with loud, grotesque cracks that echoed in the sterile space. His torso extended, his ribs expanding as though being pried apart from within. His legs stretched next, sinew tearing and reforming, knees seizing in jagged spasms as he grew taller, going from 174 cm to a towering 192.

"What happened! Make it stop please it hu-uurts!" Jonathan cried, his voice shaking as he didn’t realize yet his line of sight was a bit higher than before.

Mister Alaric paused, head tilted slightly, watching him with mild interest. With a calm flick, he adjusted a nearby slider and gave another quiet nod. “NO PLEASE DON… HAAAAAA” Jonathan screamed once again as Mister Alaric double clicked on the checkbox.

His feet began to warp. The bones inside cracked one after another like knuckles being popped in rapid succession. His arches reshaped, pulling higher, the balls of his feet swelling. Each toe lengthened, joints snapping, toenails thickening. The skin toughened, calloused as if he'd spent a decade barefoot on hot concrete. He felt the pressure in every nerve, his foot size expanding painfully from a modest 39 to an immense 45.

"My feet! Oh God! Why do they feel like they're on fire?! I can’t do this! Please!!"

Mister Alaric leaned in, studying the swelling bones, then lazily flicked a control. Jonathan felt a sharp, instant pull at the soles, more height, more pressure. The man murmured, “Needs more grounding.” As Jonathan’s feet grew now to a 47 size. “What are you talking about?! Please stop! I won’t talk to anyone. I will pay you back. No don’t do that. Plea.. AHHHHHHH” Jonathan screamed as the men in front of him double click on a new box.

Jonathan’s muscles seized, clenched involuntarily as though flexing against his will again and again. Every fiber throbbed, his arms bulging outward, veins crawling along his skin like vines under pressure. His chest ballooned into a hard, defined shelf. His pecs grew hot, flesh rippling as if molten. His biceps throbbed and swelled until his skin felt like it might split. He could feel his abs stitching into place, one ridge at a time, along his now longer torso. His thighs widened with dense, ropelike muscle. Even his neck thickened, vertebrae reshaping to accommodate the raw mass being layered upon him. Jonathan was out of breath. Tears of sweat were rolling down his exposed body as his new muscles kept on spasming again and again without him being to control them.

He gasped; voice ragged. “Why are you doing this to me?! What are you doing?!”

“Why not,” the man replied distantly. “Just better.” This answer felt like someone just poured a bucket of frozen water over his head. The men didn’t even look at him when he said that as he double clocked a new box. Jonathan couldn’t evens creamed as he felt empty, for the first time he realized that nothing he would say or do would stop mister Alaric’s project.

Jonathan felt like millions of needles were piercing through his skin. He tilted his head to his newly sculpted pecs only to see a dusting of hair starting to pierce through his epidermic layer. It felt like he was getting tattooed all over his body as he realized the sensation were now invading every centimeter of his skin in more or less intensity. It began at his chest, a subtle prickling that deepened into a raw, burning sensation. Follicles erupted in dark bursts as hair spread across his pectorals. It poured down his stomach in a defined trail, wound tightly around exposed dick into a forest of dark thick curly pubes. It then burnt under his arms, filling his armpits with thick tufts, after what it coated his calves and thighs in dense, masculine swaths. A warm, heavy scent rose from his skin: musk, rich and humid and cloyingly strong.

Mister Alaric paused, evaluating. Then he waved his hand, and some of the chest hair receded slightly, leaving his pectorals more defined while his armpits flared darker and thicker.

“More balanced,” he muttered, almost to himself.

 “Please; stop!” Jonathan sobbed.

Sliders shifted again under Alaric’s touch as he saw behind the blue tinted glasses Jonathan’s body start to spasm in discomfort one more time.

Jonathan’s body flushed a deep red. He shivered violently as every nerve in his body became hyperaware; the tickle of a breeze, the tug of his restraints, the heat radiating from his skin. His lower abdomen buzzed with heat, building into a sharp, unbearable ache. His breathing quickened into gasps.

“Oh god please not there! Don’t… I'm begging you! I don’t want this!”

The pressure in his groin surged. His cock pulsed once, then again, as if the very cells were reconfiguring. It stretched and expanded, the shaft thickening, nerves screaming as new pathways were forged. His testicles followed, swelling, skin tightening around them as they hung lower and fuller. He sobbed from the sensation, part pain, part humiliation, all terror. What once had been 12 cm now stood at an unnatural, heavy 20 cm when erect, his testicles swelling to match. It felt like being inflated from the inside out.

Jonathan screamed, “It’s too much! It hurts! Please… please stop!”

The man stepped in, eyeing the change critically. “Eight more centimeters. Generous. Marketable.” Then, with a flick, he added just a touch more as it grew to 22 cm with thick veins along the length. “I think it would be better if…” he continued as he moved a slider to the left. Jonathan screamed in pain as he saw his foreskin start to recede further and further until all that was left was a scar around his cock head, looking like he got circumcised at birth.

His voice broke, trembling with horror. “Please, just let me go! Please!”

His Adam's apple jerked and reformed, his vocal cords snapping, twisting. A deep vibration followed, his voice warping, dropping into a smoother, darker register that didn’t sound like him at all.

“Wh… what did you do to my voice?!” he cried, the new depth rattling in his chest.

The man simply replied, “You’ll get used to it.” As he double clicks one last box.

Jonathan’s face began to contort. His cheekbones lifted, sharpened, his jaw widened and squared off. He could feel the bones grinding, the cartilage in his nose shifting into a more prominent, assertive shape. His lips tingled and swelled slightly, while his brow reshaped. Vision blurred as his eyes altered subtly, the world snapping into too-sharp clarity.

Jonathan felt like a stranger in his own skin.

“What have you done” he sobbed. “What have you done to me?! I don’t want this. I don’t want th…is! Please! Undo this! I will pay!!”

Mister Alaric simply watched, expression neutral, fingers still hovering mid-air. Jonathan was panting, trembling, his new body glistening with sweat.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Please I beg you! I will pay you back. Just undo this and turn me back. I’ve learned the lesson. I will pay!”

Mister Alaric didn’t say a word. He simply stepped back, arms folded, as Jonathan’s screams and cries filled the office.

After a couple of minutes admiring his artwork, mister Alaric finally let a fainted smile creep on the left side of his lips as he unfolded his arms. “You’ll be perfect. Just need a couple of more adjustments!”

Jonathan's chest rose and fell in rapid succession, sweat beading along the ridges of his transformed musculature. He was barely able to catch his breath before the renter resumed his work, fingers again lifting into the air, moving through invisible fields like a puppeteer fine-tuning his marionette.

Jonathan flinched as a new wave of sensations surged across his body; but this time it wasn’t feeling like what he just went through. It was like something was moving all around his new hyper sensitive skin. He tilted his head left when he felt the sleeve his shirt starting to glitch around his skin. It was sending jolts of electricity directly in his muscles as the tissue was changing its form.

Clothes rippled unnaturally against his skin. His tattered shirt kept glitching and shimmering as though responding to a silent command, then began to unravel at the seams, the fabric tightening and drawing itself inward with an eerie precision. Fibers twisted and darkened, binding themselves like serpents around Jonathan’s chest. He gasped, feeling each loop constrict into place as black leather reformed into a harness. It wrapped beneath his pecs, accentuating their form, and slithered down his abdomen. The strap coiled at his groin, where it snapped into a steel ring with a sudden metallic clink. A jolt ran through him, half pain, half shame, as he moaned involuntarily, horrified by the unwanted mixture of sensations. It felt like the base of his cock was hold tightly. Jonathan could start to feel his heart pulse in his freshly cut head as he could feel his flesh starting to harden.

His pants followed, threads of light crawling like insects along his thighs, weaving denim from thin air. It grew darker, rougher, until it formed tight, black jeans that clung to his new muscled hairy legs, worn at the thighs and low at the waist. The fly refused stood open, just enough to feel exposed as the birth of his cock could be seen pulsing and begging to be freed as he thick but trimmed pubes were visible for anybody who wanted to look. A pulse of heat wrapped around his ankles as black Converse shoes materialized, fitting snugly without socks around his 47 size feet.

Jonathan looked down, body trembling, face burning with disbelief and fury. "What… what is this? What are those clothes? Get this off of me!"

Mister Alaric didn’t answer, only paused for a moment, observing. He tilted his head slightly, as if reconsidering. “You are right. This doesn’t fit. Not yet!”

A brief gesture, and Jonathan's chest prickled. Ink rose beneath the skin of his pecs in looping, ornate symbols. Then it spread, dark vines coiling into tattoos that flowed down both arms in full sleeves, ending in sharp patterns at his wrists and climbing his neck to his chin. Another gesture and a metallic ring pinched at his nose and ears, where a subtle silver ring and earrings appeared. In a last move, a black metallic necklace lodged itself around Jonathan’s neck and fell right between his tattooed pecs.

Jonathan gritted his teeth, voice trembling in a deep baritone tone. “Please... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this. I can fix it; I’ll pay back every cent. Just give me time. Like a week or two.”

Mister Alaric finally spoke. His voice was calm, clinical. “Time is valuable. You traded yours when you defaulted. This is simply… a way to make sure you payback. But don’t worry. You will pay me back. If my calculus is correct, and they always are! You owe me a bit around 896 000 dollars. Let’s make it 1 million for the inconvenience. You couldn’t find a job to pay me back, so here is what we’ll do. You are going to work for me, Jonathan. Which should be covered in around 87 years working for me. I know… it’s a long period of time. But I’m not known for well-paying my employees…”

“What? No, that can’t be… What are you talking about?!” Jonathan pleaded in shock and terror as he tried to understand what mister Alaric just said. “87 years? What are you talking about?!”

But already, Alaric turned the glasses back on and his hands moved left and right again before double clicking on new boxes.

The air around Jonathan thickened, warm and syrupy, curling into his skull like invisible fog. A thousand phantom needles pressed at his temples, and behind his eyes, pressure built until it felt like something was trying to burst through. He gritted his teeth, or tried to, but the pain came in rolling waves. Thoughts, memories, logic… they all slipped like soap in a hot shower.

“No…no, I’m Jonathan! I’m…!”

The words tangled in his throat. His tongue suddenly forgot the order of sounds. He moaned out broken syllables, strings of nonsense, his own name warping into unfamiliar vowels. For a moment, he didn’t even remember how to speak.

Mister Alaric moved his fingers subtly in the air, each gesture like a conductor’s baton rewriting Jonathan’s mind. “Reducing language retention. Limiting complex memory recall. Upgrading primal directives. Downscaling IQ... incrementally.”

Jonathan’s eyes went wide with horror as he felt something inside him snap, not a bone, but a rule, a boundary. Then another. Concepts he’d always understood crumbled into vague feelings. Algebra. Literature. His grandmother’s favorite recipe. All of it faded to a white noise.

His internal voice screamed, but it echoed through a shrinking corridor. He couldn’t focus. The pain in his head wasn’t a sharp stab, it was a dull, endless jackhammer, pounding away at his identity. The fog didn’t stop rolling in. It thickened.

Out of the pain, he began to feel… good. Sort of. Or at least, his body did. It twitched with strange pleasure as the pain twisted into heat, and his posture straightened without his input. A grin tugged at his lips, foreign and smug. He hated it.

“Wha… what happened?” he tried to say. But it came out as: “Whoz... me, bruh?”

More moans. More warped vowels. Then, speech came back, but not his speech. It was brash. Lazy. Confident in a way Jonathan never was.

“Man, this place’s hot as hell... anyone wanna get wrecked?” he muttered with a sudden drawl, voice deeper, heavier, touched by something feral.

Inside, Jonathan wailed. He felt every word, every strange flex of his mouth, and knew it wasn’t him. It was someone new, something new, layered over him like a mask welded to bone.

Mister Alaric smiled, continuing his adjustments, seemingly unaffected. “Sexual drive boosted. Hormonal aggression elevated. Personality reinforced with dominant behavioral schema. Low inhibition. Constant desire trigger: gay sex only. Additional language implants: bartending knowledge and service culture.”

A rush of knowledge poured in Jonathan’s brain, sharp and unearned. His fingers curled as if recalling actions from a hundred rehearsals. He knew drinks now, how to make them, serve them, flair-spin a shaker in one hand while flirting through a wink.

Deep inside the shell that his body got turned into, Jonathan, still fully aware, begged for someone to help him. But mister Alaric wasn't done. He raised his hand one last time, and a golden lock appeared above Jonathan’s digital double in Alaric’s lenses. He took a look at the men sitting in front of him. His sweaty tattooed body, his tight harness, his huge feet enclosed in used converses, his thick veiny cock pulsing against his hairy thigh under his used pair of jeans. For the first time, mister Alaric smiled fully as he double clicks on the digital golden lock, saving the changes on Jonathan’s body and behavior before clicking on the name above the double and renaming it: Jax. Jonathan felt like all the oxygen in his lungs left his body while drowning in a sea of new sensations. He tried to scream again, to ask for help. But no matter how hard he tried; no sound came out of his mouth. He was trapped inside his own modified body and couldn’t do anything about it.

Mister Alaric gave a satisfied hum as he got closer to his creation. “There. Lock engaged. You’ll still be aware, of course. What would be the point of paying me back if you don’t even remember what you did wrong in the first place! Don’t worry. You won’t die working for me. I’ll just have to modify you a couple of times to make sure you stay attractive to my clients.”

Jonathan’s scream never reached his lips. It only echoed inside the void of his locked consciousness. He begged, pleaded, cursed. But the moment the renter pulled the glasses from his nose and tucked them into his coat, Jonathan’s voice was gone from his ears.

All that stood before him now was the new persona: Jax. Grinning. Cocky. Ready.

Mister Alaric stepped back and sat back on his velvet couch as he called for his two bodyguards to come back in the room. “Cut his bonds. Jax here has a long shift to start with.”

Jax flexed his arms unconsciously as the take got cut, his tattoos rippling across his skin like brands of identity. His mouth hung open with a lazy grin, tongue rolling slightly as he adjusted the harness. “So, boss... you want me to shake or stir tonight?” he said with a wink, his voice thick with flirt and swagger.

Jonathan could only scream in shame and pleasure as Jax grabbed his dick through his jeans and let a torrent of precum soak the front pouch.

Three Months Later

“Profits are up twenty-seven percent,” said one of mister Alaric associates, a wiry man in a crimson vest. He leaned against the bar, watching Jax spin a bottle behind his back, still wearing the same outfit he was programmed with. “Client satisfaction’s off the charts. He’s our top performer by far. At this rate, he’ll have his debt cleared in about 24 years, assuming everything keeps running smoothly and he keeps on being tipped so good.”

Mister Alaric chuckled, sipping his favorite brand of whisky from the private lounge above. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And look at him. We sign a contract for a period of time. I don’t want him to struggle in the streets again…”

Below both of them, Jax laughed, flexing his arms for a pair of eager tourists. The tattoos on his pecs glowed faintly in the shifting lights.

“Gotta stay pumped for the next round,” he said aloud to no one in particular, grinning. “Can’t let Daddy down, right?”

A customer near the end of the bar raised their hand and called out, “Hey Jax! Pour me an Easter Jack!”

Jax turned, licking his lips with a hungry smile. “You got it, stud. Hope you're ready to find out what’s in the basket after my shift.” He said grabbing his thick dick through his jeans. “There you go Daddy, you’ll be happy to know I put some extra homemade proteins in this one!”

Inside, Jonathan was still trapped and disgusted by his new reality, counting the days and trying not to go mad. He was getting whored out every night multiple times per shift to earn his tips. Only 86 more years to go. He can do it. He had to.

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

Hey guys!

I've got a new story for you, inspired by a great conversation I had a little while ago with my friend @tf-vigilante.

Hope you enjoy it!

As always, feel free to drop me a message or DM if you’ve got any ideas. I love chatting with you all.

See you soon!

[juliating]

Yes your honor I'm crazed about how Spamtons' body anatomy may look like/work😵‍💫

btw down below are a few hcs to satisfy my brainworms!! AND! I mayhaps have written a fic about them 2 SNEO pics here's the AO3 link

(summary: Spamton NEO and Reader fly trough the sky with a few discoveries anatomy wise of eachother, eating/sleeping togheter. posted both on ao3 and under read more)

Alright for starters a few hc!!

What if Spamton has to calibrate with what strength he touches/grabs/holds the reader? Compared to organic beings being rather squishy; nearly all things/ppl in the darkworld are made out of hard material n stuff! My hc is that these residents in cyber city are all mechanical beings.

So some are covered in a synthetic hide to look more viewable/protect their mechanisms or to avoid dirt in joints/airvents (due to spamton being "skinless" he needs to clean his joints in order to have fluid movement which gets neglected)

The only part which generates heat is the head, so the rest of the body is equal to the ambient temperature. Metal parts underneath could get warm but the outside plastic shell doesn't since that material is a bad heat transmitter.

Balljoints are twice secured so that they can't get easily disclocated. Given trough their build they have both hinge and ball joints in one -> black gasket can rotate/ full 360° articulation

Gray areas are made of a plastic-rubbery like texture, so when folding an arm in, upper body leaning down, bending legs etc. the said area gives in! The abdomen is just one big ol' balljoint

Imagine being able to fly on Spamton NEOs' back like on a Lunala flying trough an ultra wormhole!

NEOs' eyes are permanently open with his glasses embedded in his now skin-having face. So he has a small bump from the nose bridge still is under his skin. The most 'closed' he can do is dimming them.

Btw my NEO version has both mittens and mechanical arms/legs! They're hidden in the plush in default mode. Keep in mind that despite the soft plush, there's metal underneath. Meaning it would still hurt a LOT if he'd whack you with it. And I gave him airvents on his side similiar to gills (shhh secret Big Shot Salmonid reference)

Also I think once Spamton settles down/is in a better state he goes from janky/stiff motions to almost uncanny smooth movement after he's free of any unwanted particles inside his cavities/joints (example that one super expensive Avatar animatronic)

In my head SNEO, when excited or smth similiar, sometimes forgets his own strength. Like a previously hand-raised big animal if you know what I mean

Feel free to correct any grammatical errors since English isnt my first language.

1. (First idea was with the reader fixing a more mechanical part inside Spamton's chest cavity. But then later that day I saw something nearly identical so I changed it a bit. Man my heart was doing cartwheels out of fear of looking like a copycat!!☠️)-still in work 3. (still need a plan where that one might be going)

2. Sun-blighted sky

The slight breeze feels nice. Wonder if he can feel it too. At first you were a bit hesitant by the idea but then gave in. Spamton NEO suggested that you two go to soar trough the sunless skies of cyber city. With you being held safely in his mitten like hands. His thumbs are clamped around your shoulders for a good grip. Soft enough not to hurt yet still secure.

You once asked him why he won't use his actual arms, the ones who are hidden inside the plush exterior. At that he told you that those are more for combat. Huh. Wouldn't want to image getting sliced up by those vicious looking claws of his. Or get shot with his arm cannon. Not to mention the eye lazers.

The once green wires Spamton despised so much are now commanded by his will. All thanks to you. Only after him agreeing to not go after those who apparently wronged him. Due to the NEO suits' immense weight the strings withstand constant tension. Creaking and groaning. He needs to adjust his grip every now and then since the plush material does't have a good adhesion. After a while Spamton adjusts it yet again.

Goodness gracious how beautiful the magenta armor gleams around his body. Beside it being illuminated by the chest core, looking closer, you can also see the moving grids dancing along the edges in an almost hypnotizing manner.

This time you feel the scratchy fabric in the middle of your chest. Right where your heart is. You don't see it but his face twists into one of confusion or like he suddenly remembered something. Spamton presses one of his mittens onto your sternum. It seems like he's searching for something. You panic for a moment thinking he'd rip the last remaining soul shard out.

"Hey Spam-", he interrupts you before you could even finish his name.

"WHAT IS THAT??", each word ever changing from a shrill pitch to a low, dull tone.

You can literally feel the vibration in your body every time that boisterous voice of his reverberates. Kind of similiar to those big speakers blaring music near the ferris wheel.

The mitten is loosing it's grip a bit. Fearing he may drop you accidently, you grip one of them with both arms and legs. You really dont fancy being dropped from this height. This short ordeal causes adrenaline to kick in and an increased heartbeat. Spamton shakes you off into the other one whilst stopping mid flight.

Before you could latch onto the other arm again you feel yourself being lifted up rather harshly. Similiar how one would throw their arms out to catch a falling object. Tapping the faintly glowing triangle chestpiece doesn't seem to get his attention neither.

Yelling out his name makes him stop dead in his tracks. Before you know it he flips you onto your back in one hand. Spamton pressed the side of his head on your chest, or to say on a better therm, nearly entire body. Assuming the location of his 'ears' are the same with humans this feels similiar to a doctor pressing their stethoscope in order to listen to your heartbeat.

Truth to be told you never knew how his body even worked. Whether his puppet-machine like body nor the current 'armed to the teeth' NEO suit. But Spamton once told you that he hears a bit differently than organic beings. After lifting the each side of his artificial hair you've noticed that they're located on different heights. Imitating those of a birds'. These so called 'ears' are infact just audio frequency analyzers.

So that's what has been going trough his RAM then! Of course how should he know what a heartbeat is when all residents are non organic.

The hunk of hard plastic starts to feel quite warm. If his multiple pcbs inside his head are so hot already to the point the exterior heats up then why didn't his internal fans kick in already? With the NEO suit being in Queen's basement for long sure must've taken a toll on its' heat insulation hasn't it? Spamton should know this.

Maybe he surpresses the air circulation in order to hear more. Come thinking of it the NEO suit must have some sort of manual or something. It's probably saved digitally in his database.

He sees you staring off into the distance seemingly lost in thought. Don't humans have a maintenance check every now and then? Shifting the arms holding you a bit higher he finds the sound source.

Browsing trough the previously saved records he notices that your current frequency is too high for his liking. Or maybe he picked it up wrong. Pushing the other side of his head on your sternum he's gauging it again for safety.

Hmph, your heavy breathing doesn't make it any easier to register-wait, WAIT!! Normally he barely picks it up! Only when you're stressed or [[OW! STOP, IT BURNS]]!! Was he squeezing you too much?? Maybe it's the altitude? Gah what does he know how a [[LIGhT>NERS]] body functions.

He lets the wires, which sprout from his back and connect to the projected grids in the sky, decend you both to a less death-drop height.

Now you two are hovering right above Spamtons' old house in the trash zone. The grids' colour slowly began to change from neon green to a dimmed hue. Signaling the night. In the distance you can see some Addisons glow brighter to attract more customers.

"THIS.", as he began to speak once again, voicebox crackling with static and huge teeth clanking togheter the same tact as words get send out, "THAT THUMPING [[Comming on June 5th for only 24,99€]] FROM YOUR CHEST!! IT SOUNDS FASTER THAN USUAL. SOMETHING THE MATTER [[LIGhT>NER]]??"

During talking he squished your body between his mitten hands and head. Wanting to be closer to the source. It's such a soothing sound!! He pokes his thumbs onto your ribcage out of curiosity. Hearing you yelp at that makes him stop though.

Oh right, the sensation of being touched in non protected areas makes some humans squirm away or even laugh. Rather from pain signals than enjoyment. He recalls that from the time you once roughly explained your endoskel- err just skeleton you called it. It's still so strange to him that one wrong hit to your head could end your life.

Finally snapping out of your train of thought, "Uh-, well! I think you mean my heartbeat Spamton.", signaling him to move his head away to give your some room to breathe by tapping your fingers on his forehead. He looks you dead in the eyes. On his pupil-less lenses you can see your own reflection staring right back at you.

"HEARTBEAT AS IN HEARTATTACK? AH; WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO THEN! YOU STILL DIDN'T ANSWER THE SECOND [[questions? ask your doctor or pharmacist]].", wanting an answer.

Aw man, you hope he doesnt interpret you being short therm startled from the suddenness from his action as a negative thing.

"Don't take this the wrong way but y'know being tossed around in the air like previously shook me up a bit. No harm done though. Also, a raised heartrate can have many factors meaning it isn't all from bad intent. I did enjoy the flight so far though!"

"RIGHT, APOLOGIES, [[want a free sample?]] HAPPEN AGAIN", not all from bad intent hm? He lifts you by the armpits again as if asking to continue the flight which you gladly accept. Rethinking he chooses to put you on his back between his head and strings.

You perch down carefully so that your body doesnt touch the wires too much. Legs bend and pressed to his sides with your hands holding onto his 'shoulders'. Well technically his wing mounts now since all of his limbs float near his body. The whole time the wires did all work work with the flying. His useless wings are mostly positioned horizontally rarely doing a flapping motion.

"SAY [[valued customer]], I DO HAVE A FEW OF MY OWN; [[three for the price of one!]] EVEN!!", anticipating your reaction. Head rotating 180 degrees to look at you for a bit, then turning back.

Wait does he mean one or three now? The ad interruption indicates three rather than one you realize. So three hearts it is huh. Like an octopus or squid. You decide to pry a bit to like he did to you beforehand.

"So are they synchronized in one single beat similiar to mine or out of sync?", hoping to get some details instead of a yes or no. Satisfied with your acknowledgment he fulfills the request. The flight speeds down a notch once more.

Show rather than tell it is. Spamton lets his arms slowly float up to where you sat. Moving his head to see you in his peripheral vision to avoid accidently knocking you off. Gently lifting you up again he maneuvers your body so that it's laying in his mitten hands. One supporting your torso, the other one letting your legs rest on.

Having you in a comfortable position, he brings you down to be eye level with the glowing triangle which sticks out of his chest. Without skewering you with it, his hands press you to the right side of it. The magenta armor the rest of your body has contact with is littered with dents and scratches which vary in sizes. Your hands reach around his body as far as they can. Trying your best to hug him.

While the thick, protective plates are getting slightly warmer from your body heat, his actual pitch black body is almost freezing to the touch. You can feel the slightest vibrations on his body from the fans keeping his processors from becomming too hot.

Inside the triangle mechanism you hear a faint whirring. It sounds akin to that of an old cd player. Must be that 'LoadedDisk' in which he uploaded his partly corrupted code back then. Leaning in closer you hear a short hum, as if a command gets processed, followed by three time-shifted clicks and pops. Whereas one resounded slower and duller than the rest. All the while he kept switching from looking straight ahead or down at you resting ever so peacefully in his arms.

"[[VALUED CUSTOMER SATISFACTION]]?", voice dripping with longed-for appreciation. Lifting you up until you're both eye to eye -or to say better eye to sensing camera. Awaiting an answer.

No matter how many times you've gotten the opportunity to gaze at Spamtons' eyes like this, it never stopped the feeling of intimidation creeping up from being directly stared at by this mighty being. Who wouldn't be, considering he's almost thrice your height now. Once the words '10/10 review' and 'would do again' came out of your mouth the colours on his eyes flickered back and forth with excitement. Grin growing wider.

He immediantly saves that sentence unbeknownst you in his memory to replay for later. Only you can give him the feeling of 'being at the top of the world' like this. Head raised with pride, he flies the rest of the route with a now non forced smile engraved on his face. Finally, finally the permanent up-turned mouthcorners portay his emotions correctly! He's positively giddy about this.

Subconsciously he starts swaying his hands, which pressed you against the now comfortale warm metal again, side to side. Unintentionally lulling you to sleep. Too caught up in his own world for him to notice.

As it was getting later you must've gotten quite hungry considering he can hear the acid chamber you call your stomach growl. Of course from spending your entire day with the now large, puppet-like salesman you haven't had the chance to eat anything.

"YOU WANT TO [[Wine n' Dine]]? I'LL DROP YOU OFF NEAR YOUR [[limited offer for cheap estatements]] COMPLETLY [[Free of charge!]]!!", asking while not looking down at you.

He waits for a response which never came. Puzzled that you didn't respond to his [[Genorisity]] nor him saying your actual name, which is already a rare occurence, he decides to spare you a glance. He moves you away from his chest and infront of his face once more. Only to find you limb with closed eyes and slightly agape mouth. So this must be the so called 'sleeping' you've mentioned a few times! An active sate of unconsciousness to recharge!!

Seems like he has to take matters into his own hands. Letting you continue sleeping, he hugs you to his still warm chestplates. Unoccupied arms winding around his body. He supports your body on his left mitten while the other one acts as a pillow. He spreads his fingers hiding inside the mitten to have a wider area available so that your legs stop dangling around. Your body sinks in a bit. This makes the hand your head rests on a suprisingly good silencer meaning not even his permanent yelling gets registered.

Ascending as high as the wires can lift him, he's navigating the ideal route. Upon finding it, he glides at the highest possible tempo the wires are able to carry him without disturbing you. Wings tucked close to his body, akin to a hawk, he dives down to the location. Moving wires making a sharp hissing sound, equal to that of a zip line ride. Still a miracle that you haven't woken up.

The speed making his pitch black hair blow back, loose strands fluttering wildly. Arriving at the destination, he settles down far enough to not alert any other Darkners living there. Letting the wires zip into his back cavity. Tapping your head; shaking you to wake you up.

You stirred, beginning to wake up. Urrghhh. Blinking a few times, your eyes adjust to the darkness. Finally being awake enough to think properly, you began to recognize the place you see. It's only a few minutes of walking to your living place! Weren't you just flying with Spamton?

Spamtons' bi-coloured glasses comming into view makes you flinch away and shield your eyes from the sudden brightness. He explains, as quietly as his voicebox allows, that you went into resting mode in his arms, so he flew you back near your home. Huh, resting mode? Curses, you didn't mean you fall asleep on him! Ah, maybe next time you can pull through without dozing off.

Feeling your stomach growl you decided to leave it for today. There's always a tomorrow. Hold on, he has got to be hungry too from all the flying and moving around. Do Darkners even need to eat or sleep in order to recharge? Well, even if he doesn't, a little kindness never hurt anyone! Expecially he needs that after all the stuff he has been trough in his life.

As far as you can recall you've never seen Spamton show any signs of tiredness nor exhaustion. More worn out from mental exhaustion and frustration. On top of that he stated that the NEO suit runs with an alternator, similiar to one of a car. Strange coincidence that he was working in the car industry before his downfall.

That's it! You're going to invite him to eat dinner with you! Hmm but you'll need to word it carefully so that he doesn't wave his hand in a dismissve 'nah don't need it' manner. Using his own tactics, how he wrapped customers around his jointed finger into buying his wares, you make him an '[[irresistable deal!!!]]' with no strings attached. Literally. Only the best learn from the best.

As if hearing your thoughts he begins to reject your offer. This time you interrupt him before he could emit the first word. A wee bit too stunned to speak from getting a taste of his own medicine, he lets the wires zip out to relink with the sky grid to blast off.

Before he could make a run for it you cling onto one of his legs. Even though clearly displeased, he gives in after several 'pretty pleases with sprinkles on top'. Oh, how he loathes being at the receiving end of hospitality even if it's from kindness rather than that behated pity of his. Corners of mouth drooping into a frown for a split second; then go back into the default smile. Forget it, he's not in the mood to banter around with that. This time he can overlook it. He'll even the deal out the first opportunity he gets.

Hovering closer to the ground, hooking your clothing scruff between his fingers, he snags you off of him and sets you down. You tell him to wait here until you're back with both of your meals. Not wanting to keep him waiting for too long you zoom to your living place. From all the hussle you haven't had any time to think about what he'd like to eat! 'Spaghetti Code' maybe? That's the only type of meal you've ever heard him mention briefly. Quickest thing would be ordering but your loan says no.

So instead of that you decide to do it yourself. Snatching multiple spaghetti packs, sauce cans and seasoning. Mentally weighting off how much you both will propably eat. Hopefully enough. Not even an hour later you're halfway finished filling up the food containers. You also bring your backbag with your laptop and seasoning incase he's preferring more. Swinging it on you take the first big container and march to him.

Upon hearing footsteps Spamton peeks around the corner of the abandoned warehouse he's sheltered in. It's you!!

"Here's the first delivery plus my laptop so that we can watch something while eating! There's still some left I'll go get the rest; you can start already if you want", you drop everything to where he's sitting, handing him the food before it cools out on the ground.

Before he can say something you're already bolting back home. Out of politeness he waits for you to come back so you can start eating together.

While waiting for your return he looks around. Busted mattresses littered everywhere. Getting up, he floats to them. He doesn't mind where and how he sits nor eats. But since you organic beings can get sick from being in the cold out for too long, he starts piling them up in a corner. Creating a makeshift bed/resting place. Balancing the food box on his floating head which stays perfectly still in place, grabbing your backbag so that they don't get dirty from him maneuvering the junk around.

Content with it he nestles in, surpresses his cooling, warming them up. He's laying on his chest, glass-triangle so sharp that it's tearing a sizeable hole into one of the mattresses. The aged filling leaving dirt stains on his [[Work-Out ready body]]!! Eurgh.

Spamton lifts his upper body. Roughly grabs and disgards the useless thing by throwing it across the warehouse room. Mattress hitting the worn wall with such brutish force that the thump echoes trough the entire building. Filling flying around like snowflakes before falling on the ground. Scowling at it, face red with anger and a twisted visage.

Borderline thinking about annihilating it with his arm cannon; he decides against it, not letting any anger get the best of him. Hypocritically speaking in the past, before NEO, he would've jumped out of joy having just one half of it. Hearing your footsteps again he picks the pieces from his head and puts them in one hand. Dimming his lights.

In the dark room the only thing one could make out, were his glasses and chest-triangle. His eyes don't light his face up that much but the triangle, even when dimmed, does. Teeth lit up from the bottom in an eerie manner. The rest of the body is shrouded in utter darkness. If someone else would walk in and see this, they'd probably die of fright on the spot.

Back once more, you carry the rest of the food. Spaghetti and sauce seperated. You were about to search for his whereabouts. Walking further into the building. The search didn't last long because he approched you from behind, without you noticing. You jumped what felt like five meters into the air as you felt a mitten-hand touching the top of your head. He can be surprisingly quiet if he wants to.

Turning around you see Spamton openly guffawing with a shit-eating grin. The same mitten petting the top of your head mockingly. "GEAHHEAHEAHEAHEA!!! NOT SO [[sales jumping up,up,up!]]!! LOOK, OVER THERE WE CAN EAT", pointing with his thumb into the room he came from. The dark room being illuminated by his eyes, chest-triangle and the holographic part of his wings.

Leading you to the corner you unzipped you backbag and set everything down in comfortable reach. Since you didn't know if Spamton is going to eat with cutlery or not, given how comically small they are in his mittens, you still got some for him. Whilst the laptop was booting up both of you took your own portion.

You sit down onto the mattress pile, plate in hand. They feel unexpectedly warm to the touch! Spamton must've been resting on them the whole time. One thing that had you do a double take though was a mattress, which looked like it got mauled and nearly torn in half, in the opposite side of the room. Filling scattered everywhere on ground and all. Huh. Wasn't like this before. Sideeying him, made him respond with a 'wasn't me!' look. Sureee.

Anyways! Once he got a portion, literally a whole box, he laid down behind you. Chest to your back and triangle by your right. Looking back at your laptop you asked him for any suggestions for what to watch. He chose a documentation about old timey cars. Suits him. Once the brand 'Cungadero' got mentioned, he perked up and moved his whole body closer. Promting you to use it as a rest.

Really opened a can of worms there. Spamton immediately began brabbling about that brand like crazed. Head twitching and turning in all different kinds of directions. Multiple voices overlapping, glitching and each one louder than the last. Not being kind to your ears. The tinnitus tomorrow will be worth it though! History, creation and build aspects. Everything. Both of you completely forgetting the food.

The armor isn't the softest material to fully lean onto though. Some raised edges dig into your skin. So you lean back forward. You see his unoccupied arm shift and feel something dropped behind you. Another mattress! Which looked more like a small pillow in his hand. Thanking him, you lean back again, starting to eat.

Or- wanted to eat. Only to find that it has gotten cold already. Eh, you can live with that.

Spamton stopped talking when he saw you hesistating and then shrugging, twirling some noodles onto your fork. He switches his vision to a thermal one, checking both of your portions and the rest of the containers. Did he really talk for so long that the spaghetti code got cold? He can fix that.

"NO. [[prices dropping by 20%!!]] THAT DOWN. PUT IT INTO THE [[boxing gloves for 49,99€]] AND GIVE IT TO ME. I'LL HEAT IT UP", a beat passes, "IF YOU PLEASE!!". Holding a hand out.

Doing so, you give it to him. Pondering if he'll just press them against his face or something. You watch as he takes every container into his hands and puts them into... INTO his mouth?! He must be warming them up inside his head! Like a big ol' microwave!! Not sure how to feel about that. There better won't be any spit on them, if he even has any to speak of. After a while he takes them out, shame he didn't do the 'Ding!' sound. Puffing out some heated air. Thankfully, for your appetite, they're as clean as they were before.

Wondering how Spamton even eats, you secretly peek at his head resting on the mattress pile about a meter away. Holding an open box to his mouth. He must've manifested a neck using magic so that the food can be passed into the main body for decoding it.

No matter how cautiously you glance at him he still picks it up. Mutual feeling; since he hasn't seen you eat either!! Normally, Addisons can just dump anything down their throats which then gets decoded into a bunch of 1s and 0s. Instead of giving energy, they receive flavour codes. But regarding formality they take bites and chew. Like [[LIGhT>NER]]s. So he assumes that humans shouldn't be too different.

He lifts his head up slightly from its' laying postion. Doing the polite route he lets his [[coral blue #2]] tongue slither inside the food box. Wrapping it around some noodles, he scoops them up and retracts it back into his mouth. Biting off any excess. His broad teeth act like a hydraulic press. Favouring crushing over cutting.

When he bites some off his upper tooth row comes down onto his bottom lip. That 'lip' functions like a black rubber gasket. Same material. Which prevents any damage/cracks incase his upper tooth row clashes too hard onto his jaw. Plus, the top one sinks in a bit in order to absorb the impact.

Ooooh it tastes DELICIS!!! Could rival the taste of his beloved Kromer!! Giving up on being patient with it he starts devouring the food like a man starved. Not caring how much sauce stains his teeth. Once finished with the first box he make short work of the second one. Throwing his head back and dumping the entire content full of greed in one go down. Before he did the same with the third, and last, box he stops himself. Wanting to savour it. Also, he has an idea for a topping he thinks you may like.

What looked like a whole week worth of food to you were only a few bites to Spamton; who was practically inhaling it according to some glances you landed. Technically he could've inhaled it, so to speak of. From your view you even saw that his bottom 'lip' shines ever so slightly at a certain angle.

Even without any projected pupils on his glasses you still felt his gaze on you from time to time. You wonder why he stopped before the third box though. Nevertheless, maybe he has his reasons or waits for something. Not thinking much of it, you continue eating and watching the rest of the documentary. You try your best to stay awake for his sake, you struggle against nodding off again.

From some opportunity windows you had, you could make out that he only bit noodles off and never chewed. At one glance to another an entire box was empty. The way he scooped portions into his mouth reminded you of a giraffe eating leaves. No surprise considering that he almost never fully closes his mout with the lack of proper functional lips or cheeks. Well atleast he seemed to enjoy it!

Halfway done with eating your portion, you hear Spamton starting to finish off the last box. What surprised you though, was on his last bite he picked up the spare fork you brought. Struggling a bit to hold it correctly. But before doing anything with it he turns to you.

"[[Stop the presses!]] THERE, WOULD YOU LIKE A [[Free samples for each product!]]??", holding one hand near your food. You move your plate acceptingly to him.

Holding his empty hand above your portion then rotating his wrist he summons a 'Pipis'; which then placed ontop of your food. After fully registering what it is you tense up, not daring to move a muscle. Why would he give you a grenade?! Despite it being smaller and having some seared spots you're still not so sure about stabbing it with your fork. You glance dumfounded at Spamton.

Looking down at you, he's awaiting you to try the 'Fried Pipis'. But apparently you don't get the memo that it's something to eat instead of an explosive this time. He summons another one and bites a chunk off of it, giving you a loopy smile. Showing you that it's save for consumption and won't blow your face off. Leaning down he looks at you expectingly.

So edible grenades it is then. You cut it into a few stripes while he gnashes down the rest of it. Picking one up you decided to give it a try. It surprisingly tastes a tad like mozzarella! Maybe the magic stuff automatically determines how it'll taste like when put into another dish.

Seeing your eyes widen in surprise makes Spamton huff out a barely audible laugh; some leftover steam warming your skin. "HEAEAEAEA [[Told ya so]]!!", waving the fork into you direction then going back to what he wanted to do before.

Doing his best to twirl some spaghetti on and putting it in his mouth, then fully closing it the best he can, and chews. Mimicking you. You only saw him dipping his head back; no swallowing or anything like that. Interesting! With both of you being finished, he takes the sauce container and licks it clean of any leftovers.

Container being cleaned he sets it aside on the ground. Not without leaving a comment of course! Patting your back in an acknowledging 'good job!' fashion.

"[[5 star rated restaurant]] DEAR CUSTOMER!!", default grin growing wider while rearranging some loose mattresses near where you sat.

Some were placed under his head so that it's propped up a hint instead of laying flat. Now you can see his face more clearly in your peripheral vision again. Seeing his teeth stained from trying to eat like you near the end. Sauce and crushed noodle bits smeared everywhere.

Normally saliva, if he had any, would clean it from its own but not in his case due to having permanent bared teeth. You can help with that!

"You've got some on your teeth right there, Spamton!", motioning with your hand at your own mouth for reference.

Upon hearing that he lets his tongue out yet again gliding over both of his rows of teeth. The rough texture leaving near to nothing left in its' wake. Well except one stray noodle piece it didn't reach one of his dimples. "ALL [[sales gone down the drain, drain]]??", staring at you. Hands resting neatly ontop of his armor while his arms are wrapped around his body.

"Eh- not quite. I can get it for you if you let me though!", lifting your hand to hover near his head, asking for permission to help incase the sudden touch startles him somehow. Which he gladly accepts with a small nod; leaning in your direction so that he fully faces you. He watches you get up and march to him, sinking in the old mattresses with each step, then plopping down on them once you're in comfortable reach of him.

Sitting cross-legged near Spamton you're about the same height as his nose. This would sure be an inconvenient time for any spontaneous movements or else he could poke an eye out by accident. Cautiously lifting your arm up to the side of his face, keeping an eye out for any twitches.

He's doing everything in his might to prevent any sudden head twitches, not wanting to knock you over nor stabbing you with his nose. Watching you swipe something off of him with your thumb, feeling the soft flesh on your thumb. Why was it shaking a little? Pfft, do you really think he'd bite your arm off or something??

Not sure what to do with it, you hold it back out to him indicating to pick it from you in his own mitten to eat. Instead, Spamton leans his head forward, seperates his teeth and licks it off of your thumb. Giving you a jolt which made your arm flinch away.

This earned you an unwanted hurt look from Spamton. Mouth corners slightly drooping. You reassure him that the flinch was only from the shock he gave you, tenderly rubbing his cheek.

It felt like you were being scratched by sandpaper. Coarse and dry. Before any contact with your skin you felt a crackling sensation which made the hairs on your entire forarm stand up. It feels like holding your hand out near static charged plastic or a high voltage plant.

Even though you kind of suspected it already, it still surprised you. Once it made contact after the first shock, you felt weaker ones pulsing in a fast paced tact. Also for some reason it was blue? But at the same time the gradient got darker, going from blue to black further down inside his mouth.

You sit back to the place before infront of Spamtons' chest. Honestly it was getting quite cold now that the mattresses cooled all the way out. Spamton doesn't seem to be heating them up anymore. Not wanting to get a cold you pull your legs up to your chest and snuggle more into one of them. Trying to keep some warmth in by additionally wrapping your arms around yourself.

Is it really that cold to you again?? The always cool temperature may be good for the residents for Cyber City but apparantly not for flesh and blood beings. He's deciding whether about heating his body up again or not, but doing this all the time can even damage his [[Work-Out ready body]]... He's not having any of that. Instead, he has a better idea!! Ah, finally getting to repay your [[Genorisity]]!!!

Some humans bond via body contact don't they? Maybe he can test the waters given the opportunity now. Only if that doesn't overstep any boundaries for you though. Thinking of it he wonders how your past life was like before you fell; but he lets that be out of mutual respect before any old wounds get reopened. He wouldn't want it either.

The synthetic wool material of his plush arms is easy to warm up. Meaning once it's around you then your body heat would be greatly insulated keeping you from being cold! And if he'd somehow get some muscle activity out of you it'd go even faster!! Arms begin to unwrap from his body, drifting to you. He taps your shoulder to get your attention. Turning your head to him you see his hands hover close by your upper arms, making an 'up' motion.

Lifting your arms up and before you know it you're hoisted up by the armpits, engulfed in white and pink fabric. The rest of Spamtons' body gets up, armor plates clattering aigainst each other. Sitting cross-legged, with you being at eye-height with his chest triangle. Holding you diagonally, main body and head leaning forward. Looming down at you he gives you a mischievous smile, making you raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

The thumbs resting on your shoulder move down to your torso. They gently dig into your sides making you squirm and huff out a few quiet laughs. From the looks of it his goal seems to be for you to move around in order to generate warmth faster. Or to cheer you up, maybe both, who knows.

Seeing the fabric getting to a comfortable heat for you he stops. After that he leans his down to snuggle into your chest to check to your heartbeat again. Even if your soulshard isn't emitting the sought after power like it used to, it still brings him an oh so great sense of comfort. Even when the metal parts of his body can't feel much.

You throw an arm around his head and ruffle trough the jagged, synthetic hair. Running strand by strand trough your fingers, evening some knots out. Under your hand you can feel the back of his head heating up, the warmth spreading trough the partly hard plastic skin up to the side his face is pressed against you. Whirring fans causing faint vibrations below your fingertips. After a while his face turns a light shade of red. Steam beginning to form inside his mouth.

Feeling you crane your neck to the side so that you can see his face more clearly. He stares back. Noticing what you might be looking at currently, he swiftly turns to the side making a half hearted grouchy expression. Upon this he hears you stifle back a chuckle and puts a mitten on your face so that you can't see his.

"Woah what was that for big guy?", you jokingly question while disheveling his hair in a kidding manner. Pushing his mitten away.

"NOTHING! [[all, for nothing at all]]!!", earlier formed steam being hissed out inbetween words.

Before you could say some more he shuts you up by hugging your body to his chest. Avoiding the sharp edges of the suit. Long teardrop shaped arms winding you around his body. Albeit with too much strenght considering he hears your spine crack.

"[[Whoopsie-daisy]]!! DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT ROUGH!!", shrieking out in surprise, easing the pressure.

Spamtons' main body falls with you back down onto the mattresses with a dull thud. Still snuggling you into his chest. Now that most noise died out the only thing you can hear are some of his mechanisms relentlessy working.

With his warm arms wrapped around your body, acting as blankets, you begin to doze off. Sensing this he dims his lights yet again. He lifts you up in order to put a mattress between you two so that you don't wake up with cuts everywhere from the sharp edges. Even if he can't sleep he still enjoys beings near you simply resting.

The last thing you register before falling asleep were teeth softly gracing the top of you head.

[glykera]

Open starter

(Tw ptsd, panic attacks, sa, abuse, alcohol.)

Of course, cabin 12 had been able to find themselves booze. Of course, they were throwing a party with kids from almost every cabin. And of course, some of the kids asked her to be a glorified maid for the party, knowing she likely wouldn't protest.

Glykera looked absolutely shaken. She didn't even look fully here. One of the drunken campers had tried flirting with her and was standing a bit too close to her. So far, they were only talking to her. But that didn't change the terror she felt.

This place was far too similar to where she used to live. The party was just like the ones her master would throw. And those guests... those guests were pigs. She couldn't tell if this was the Dionysos cabin or if it was her old home. If these were campers or those old guests.

Tag list:

@the-gods-abandoned-us

@arisdaughter

@mache-of-greece

@demigod-jack-hearth

@unhinged-waterlilly

@kaiaalwayswins

@daredevil-shit

@amaiahunterofartemis

@yourlocalfallenstar

@son-of-the-moonlight

@luci-likes-dinoss

@elixs-mythology-corner

@bast-the-best26

@emdabitchass

@if-chaos-was-a-boy

@luck-is-crucial

@elionandaerith

@love-lightning-forethought @the-prince-telemachus @pink-koi-lovejoy @fire-boy-official @apollos-favorite-child @ariathemortal @cass-sees-the-future @reyna4ever

[g-hughes]

maybe kinda like a part two of the quinn fic where she gets even closer to his brothers and family and quinn is just watching as the most important people in his life all fit together so well

Yours Forever - Q. Hughes

part 1 || masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: it's the 2nd annual Hughes Bowl, and Quinn gets a glimpse at what his future is going to look like

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none!

It was the eve before the second annual “Hughes Bowl'' and you were in a panic. Quinn had gone to the airport to pick up his parents, who made the trek across the continent to watch all three of their boys play together. It must’ve been such a surreal feeling for them, watching their sons on the ice, years of hard work and dedication paying off. From what you had gathered, Ellen and Jim were the Hughes boys’ biggest fans, and would try to make as many games as they could. And if they couldn’t make a game, they were always calling Quinn either right after or the next day to talk about it. 

“Are you sure that the couch looks okay against-” 

“Yes, for the tenth time, yes it looks fine against the wall,” Quinn said as you facetimed him. 

“Do not yell at me, Quintin, I am nervous,” You scolded and Quinn let out a laugh. Ellen and Jim haven’t been to your new apartment that you shared with Quinn. You were nervous for them to be staying with you. What if they didn’t approve of it? What if they hated your decorating skills? What if you weren’t a good homemaker? “Oh my god, I should’ve baked like cookies or something.” 

“You? Bake?” Quinn chuckled again, “Yeah and pigs can fly.” 

“Quinn,” You whined, “I want to make a good impression. This isn’t like going to the lake house or anything. This is our house.” 

Quinn smiled as the word ‘our’ fell from your lips. Almost as soon as the summer ended, he asked you to move in with him, and you, of course, said yes. But Quinn didn’t just want you to move into his apartment, for starters, it was a total man cave, with minimal decorations, one set of silverware he bought at target, and the standard blinds that came with the place. He wanted to get something that was going to be comfortable for you, and close to your work. So the two of you picked out a beautiful apartment in a small village area of Vancouver, it was close to your work, and felt like the two of you could have some privacy. 

“Baby,” Quinn said sincerely, “You have already made the best impression on them. They love you, and nothing is going to change that. . . well maybe your abysmal baking skills,” You giggled, “So please stop stressing. It’s going to be okay.”

You let out a breath and looked around the living room, “I guess you’re right.” 

“I know I am,” Quinn winked at you, “But I gotta go. They just landed. Oh! And the boys should be over soon.” 

“Boys?” You asked, your eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“Yeah, Jack and Luke are on their way over.” 

“Quinn!” 

“Bye, Love you!” 

You groaned, as the line went dead and you were left glaring at your lock screen of your boyfriend. Though you spent the whole summer with the Hughes brothers, you still felt a bit awkward around them. Every time you tried to get to know them a little bit better, one of their friends was whisking them away to partake in some event. You were cordial toward them, but you weren’t sure what you were going to do to entertain them until Quinn and their parents got home. Hell, you weren’t sure what you were going to feed them until Quinn and their parents got home. 

You couldn’t ponder the question long, as there was a knock on your front door. You smoothed the fabric of your clothes and fixed your hair before opening the door, revealing a smiling Jack and a somewhat smiling Luke. 

“Hey!” You greeted, “Come in! Welcome.” 

The boys lumbered in, taking in the place. “Well, it's obvious Quinn wasn’t allowed to decorate,” Luke joked. 

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “As much as I love Gretzky, I didn’t need a life size portrait of him in my living room.” 

“Oh, I bet Quinn was just devastated,” Jack feigned. 

“Cried for days,” You shook your head, a mock pout on your lips. The boys both chuckled at your response and settled in on the couch. You felt a sense of ease wash over you, a smile tugging at your lips. 

— — — 

Quinn leaned against the passenger side of his jeep, his black yankees cap pulled down low on his head to hopefully hide himself from fans as he waited for his parents. Not that he usually gets ambushed in public, but sometimes he was asked for a picture or to sign an autograph or two. Normally, he wouldn’t mind it, but tonight, he just wanted to get his parents and get back home to his girl and his brothers. He didn’t get a lot of downtime throughout the season to see them, so he was going to take advantage of all the time he could get. 

“Quinny,” His mom’s voice called out to him as they walked out of the airport. He smiled and greeted his parents with a hug, “Where’s Y/N?” 

“Nice to see you too, Mom,” Quinn scoffed, “She’s at the apartment. Jack and Luke are there too.” 

“Oh good,” Ellen smiled, and settled in the backseat so Jim could sit up front with his son, “How are things going? Liking the new place?” 

Quinn nodded his head, “Everything is going great, and yeah we really like it. There’s some nice trails and a park nearby. We try to go on walks every morning together.” 

“And?” Ellen asked. 

“And?” Quinn asked back, “And everything is good. Y/N just got a promotion at work, her hours are more flexible. We’ve even been looking at adopting a cat, Y/N says she needs a friend when I’m gone on roadies.” Quinn was not a cat person, not even in the slightest, but seeing the way your eyes light up as you showed him the adoptable cats on the city shelter page made his heart flutter. 

“And?” Ellen asked, once again. 

“And what, Mom?” Quinn shook his head, “Everything is good.” 

“She wants to know when you’re going to propose,” Jim said, filling in the blank that Ellen had left. 

“Oh,” Quinn blushed. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes darted to the glove box, “I uh. . . I might’ve bought a ring a couple weeks ago.” 

“Oh I knew it!” Ellen exclaimed, “Jack said you were asking him about what kind of ring styles Y/N would like.” 

Quinn rolled his eyes. He really needed to stop telling Jack things about his relationship. Jack was like his mom’s spy. 

“When are you going to do it?” Ellen asked, “How are you going to do it?” 

“I don’t know,” Quinn shrugged. 

He thought about waiting until the season was over, but it was only December, and he wasn’t sure he could wait that long without putting that ring on your finger. He also knew that neither one of you liked to be the center of attention, and a big proposal wasn’t what you would want. You guys had talked about it before, you wanted your proposal to be an intimate affair, and a small celebration afterwards with your family and friends. 

“Have you asked for permission?” Jim asked, “You have to ask for permission.” 

“Yeah I did,” Quinn nodded. He invited your dad, who was a lifelong Canucks fan, to a morning skate and then a chance to meet the guys afterward. Quinn had then taken him to a nearby brunch spot, where he had asked for his blessing to marry you. Your dad had never been a man to show his emotions, unless he was watching a hockey game, but he had teared up, and told Quinn that he was the only man he ever thought worthy of marrying his little girl. And those words made Quinn tear up too. 

“I’m so happy for you, Q,” Ellen leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm, “She’s a very special girl.” 

“I know, Mom,” Quinn looked over his shoulder briefly at her, “I’m lucky to have her.” 

Quinn pulled into his parking spot, grabbing his mom’s suitcase for her. The elevator ride was short up to their floor, Quinn talking about how the team was coming along this season. After last year’s historic turnaround and run in the playoffs, Quinn felt the pressure even more in his second season as captain. He needed to prove not only to his team, but to the city that last year wasn’t a fluke. That Canucks hockey was back, and Quinn was going to lead his team back to the playoffs and hopefully to the Cup. 

“Between Yogi and Krog, we’ve been working so hard on the powerplay,” Quinn shook his head, “It was our downfall last year in the second round, but I feel like we’ve really turned it around.” 

“I agree,” Jim nodded his head, “You guys look like a totally different crew when the power play comes around. Toch probably feels relieved to have someone else on that call.” 

“Yeah,” Quinn nodded as he neared his front door, pulling his key out, “Krog has been such a good addition. The guys really like him and-” 

“You fucking suck!” A loud curse came from the other side. He stared at the door for a moment before another loud yell came out, “I fucking hate you!” Quinn’s eyebrows arose in concern as he quickly unlocked his front door. 

“Hey! Everything al-” Quinn shouted as he walked into the apartment. 

“You two fucking cheated!” Jack exclaimed, jumping up from the couch, “You cheated! I know you did!” 

“How do you cheat in Mario Kart?” Luke asked, chuckling. 

“I don’t know! But she cheated!” Jack flopped down on the couch. 

“I’m sorry, Jacky, you just aren’t as good as you thought you were,” You laughed and a feeling of relief flooded Quinn’s body as the familiar sound of the video game filled the space. You looked over your shoulder, a bright smile on your face, “Oh hey!” Then your eyes widened as you noticed Ellen and Jim behind your boyfriend. You quickly jumped up from the couch, and made your way over to them, “Hey! Welcome to Vancouver.” 

You hugged them both, as Jack paused the video game and walked over to his family. 

“Thank you for inviting us,” Ellen beamed at you, “And kicking my son’s ass in Mario Kart.” 

“They ganged up on me!” Jack whined, “I was out numbered.” 

Quinn wrapped his arm around you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You blushed and looked at him, “How was the drive?” 

“Not bad,” Quinn shrugged, “How were the heathens?” 

“Could’ve been worse,” You chuckled, “Could’ve been better if Jack didn’t suck at Mario Kart.” 

“Alright,” Jack slammed his hands down on the counter playfully, “Rematch. Right Now.” 

“Oh you’re on,” You jested, rushing over to the couch with Jack and Luke in tow. Quinn shook his head with a laugh, his heart feeling full as he watched you interact with his brothers. His brothers’ opinions had always mattered so much to him, so seeing you so casually fitting in with them, made Quinn even more sure of his decision. 

— — —

Quinn love hated playing against his brothers. He loved watching them out on the ice, playing a sport that they’ve all grown to love, chasing their childhood dreams. But he hated having to be the opponent, the enemy. He hated that only one of them was going to go home victorious and with bragging rights for the next couple of months until they played each other again. Quinn loved seeing the bright smiles on his younger brothers faces when the final buzzer would go off, but he hated the feeling of letting his team down. 

You waited by the locker room for Quinn, his mother and father already headed back to the apartment. They knew that the only one Quinn would want to be around or talk to after the loss was you. For years, Ellen and Jim had tried to be the ones who Quinn would talk to after losses, but they gave up once he was about 15. But you managed to crack that tough interior of Quinn Hughes. You gave him a sad smile as he walked out of the locker room, his hair still wet from his shower. You were a bit surprised to see him back in his suit, normally he would have traded it in for some sweatpants and a hoodie. 

“Hi,” You whispered to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers brushed over the red mark on his forehead from his helmet, “You did good.” 

“Not good enough,” He huffed, putting one of his hands on your hip, “We should’ve won,” Quinn shook his head, “But I’m happy the boys won.” 

“I know,” You said, “It sucks to lose, but I’m glad Jack and Luke got the win.” Quinn nodded his head, “C’mon, let’s go home.” 

“Wait,” He said, grabbing your hand, “I think I left my stick in the box. Come with me?” 

“Can’t you get it tomorrow?” Your eyebrows creased in confusion. 

“No!” Quinn said, quickly, “Uh no. The equipment guys want all the sticks accounted for the night after the game. They’re weird like that.” You nodded your head slowly, still suspicious of his motive, but agreed to follow him back towards the arena. 

The arena was dark, except for a single spot light in the middle of the ice on the Canucks logo, and the blue band lighting around the lower bowl. It was weird walking into the rink, and it being quiet, save for your footsteps on the concrete. You were so used to this place being loud and bursting with excitement, it was a nice change to see it like this. In the past year, Rogers Arena has felt like a second home, a safe space. 

“It’s weird seeing this place quiet,” You said, as you walked to the team bench, “I kind of like it.” 

“Then you’ll like this even more,” Quinn said, “C’mere.” He held his hand out, and you took it. There was a carpet laid out from the gate on the boards, to the center of the ice. 

You looked around, in awe at the sight before you, “This. . . is crazy,” You scoffed in disbelief, “I can’t even imagine what it is like twenty thousand people are yelling your name,” You cupped your hands around your mouth, whispering yelling, “Huggy Bear! Huggy Bear! Huggy Bear!” 

Quinn chuckled, reaching out to you and grabbing your hips, “It’s a pretty surreal feeling. Sometimes I can’t even believe that this is my life. That I’m really in the NHL, and I’m really living my childhood dream, playing against some of my childhood icons and-” 

“And beating them,” You winked. 

“And beating them,” Quinn added, “But I was going to say, and I get to do this with the love of my life by my side.” Your heart started beating faster, butterflies taking flight in your stomach as Quinn grabbed both of your hands in his, “Y/N L/N, from the moment you crashed into my life, literally,” You chuckled as tears started filling your eyes, “I knew that you were going to be it. I didn’t know I was missing something until you came into my life and it all just seemed to make sense. I felt complete. You made me feel complete.” 

At this point, both you and Quinn had tears in your eyes. He let go of your hand, as he got down on one knee, pulling out a small light blue box from his pocket. Your hands flew up to your mouth, as he opened the lid. 

“Y/N, will you please-” 

“Yes!” 

“I didn’t finish-” 

“I know, but yes!” You grabbed Quinn’s face in your hands, placing a tender, yet reassuring kiss on his lips. 

“But I have to finish asking you,” Quinn said. 

“Okay,” You nodded, standing back up, “Ask me.” 

“Y/N, will you marry-” 

“Yes!” Quinn chuckled, grabbing your left hand, and sliding the simple, yet beautiful ring on your finger. He stood up, as you threw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. He stumbled for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around you. You leaned your forehead against his, “I love you.” 

“I love you,” You said, wiping away a stray tear from his face, “This is the best day ever.” 

“Just wait until we get to say ‘I Do’ for real,” Quinn pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “Now c’mon, Jack said he was getting us a cake to celebrate.” You smiled, as you took Quinn’s hand and walked off the ice. When you reached the locker room you froze. 

“Oh my god,” You gasped and Quinn looked at you in a panic. 

“What? What is it? What’s wrong? 

“Who’s going to be your best man?” You and Quinn both shared a look of momentary panic.

“They can play rock, paper, scissors for it.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ego check

Word count: 803

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: At a crowded party, you challenge Lando Norris's inflated ego by advising him on how to engage genuinely

My request are open

________________________________________________________

Just as you were about to retreat to a quieter corner, a guy slid up next to you, a cocky smirk already plastered on his face. His dark brown hair was tousled in that "I didn't try, but I totally did" way, and he carried himself with an air of entitlement that you could sense from a mile away.

"You must know who I am," he said without so much as a hello.

You blinked at him, unimpressed, and took another sip of your drink. "Should I?" you replied, your voice calm but pointed.

His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Lando. Lando Norris. I race in Formula 1."

You shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "That's nice."

He stared at you like you had just spoken in a foreign language. "You don’t know who I am? Lando Norris? F1 driver?" He leaned in closer as if trying to figure out if you were messing with him.

You tilted your head slightly, keeping your cool. "I heard you the first time. Just not sure why I should care."

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. His ego was massive, and you could tell he was used to people fawning over him, especially at events like this. But you weren’t interested in that kind of attitude. You liked funny, genuine people—not guys who thought their fame gave them a free pass to be arrogant.

"You know," you said, setting your drink down on the bar, "if you want people to like you, you might want to try being a little less full of yourself. The whole 'do you know who I am' thing? Not cute."

He stared at you, speechless for a moment, clearly not used to being spoken to like that. But instead of getting defensive or annoyed, something in his expression changed. It was subtle at first—his posture relaxed a little, the smirk faded, and his eyes softened as he studied you.

"Okay," he said after a beat, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What should I say, then?"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden shift in attitude. "Well, for starters, you could try saying 'Hi, I’m Lando. What’s your name?' You know, like a normal person."

He let out a short laugh, and you could tell the arrogance was melting away. "Hi," he said, still grinning but in a way that felt more real this time. "I’m Lando. What’s your name?"

You smiled back, feeling a little bit of your initial annoyance fade. "That’s better. I’m Y/n."

The conversation shifted after that. Lando dropped the cocky attitude, and instead of talking about himself, he started asking about you—your interests, what brought you to the party, and what you liked to do for fun. He cracked a few jokes, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected to.

It was almost like you had flipped a switch in him. The arrogance that had initially repelled you had given way to something softer, more genuine. He started to talk about his passion for racing in a way that wasn’t about impressing you, but about sharing something he loved.

And as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on you when you spoke, how his laugh was a little louder at your jokes, how he seemed to genuinely enjoy your company.

By the time you were getting ready to leave, Lando looked at you with an intensity that hadn’t been there before.

"You know," he said, leaning against the bar, "I think you’re the first person in a long time who hasn’t cared who I am. It’s kind of refreshing."

You smiled, grabbing your bag. "That’s because I care more about who people are, not what they do."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, looking a little flustered for the first time all night. "I think I could get used to that. Would it be too forward if I asked to see you again?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth in your chest as you looked at him, no longer the arrogant guy who had first approached you but someone you might actually want to get to know.

"I guess we’ll see," you said with a grin before turning to leave.

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice Lando watching you, looking completely smitten.

[thewayitalknj]

Since a few of you kindly asked for a Part 2, here you go! Thanks for the love!

Warnings - reader feels a bit insecure for a split second! Word Count - 2.6k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Full Mini-Series Masterlist Here

You stare at him, cold blooded. So he did figure it out? You shut the door behind you and reach for the silk robe hanging on the back of the door. 

“Aw come on don’t cover up because it’s me-”

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing here?” 

He makes a silly dance move, trying to be funny but definitely not helping. “What do you mean? I came for a private dance.” 

You finish tying a bow and cross your arms. “How did you know I work here?”

He gets up and walks towards you. He moves your robe off to the side and points to your birthmark. “This. I noticed it while you were dancing.”

You sigh and look back up at him. He stifles a laugh, “Ed, this isn’t funny.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a fucking dancer?”

“Oh yeah, because that’s a great conversation starter-” You notice him looking you up and down. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m hot or…some shit.”

“Well, I mean-”

“Look, I get off at midnight. We can go back to my place to chat afterwards if you want. But for now, you can hang in the dressing room. We won’t be back there until we close up anyway.” You open up the door and motion for Eddie to leave.

“...does this mean I don’t get a private dance?” You give him a stern look this time, “yes ma’am.”

As you enter your front door Eddie goes and takes a seat on your couch as you head to your bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. When you take a seat next to him just a few minutes later you explain everything to him.

You have been working at the strip club for over a year now. As much as you loved working at Family Video it just wasn’t paying enough. Bianca was a regular at FV with her family, and you grew a work-type friendship with her. One day she came in by herself and asked if you wanted to come to a charity event they were holding at the club. She immediately made it clear how odd it sounded about having a charity event at a strip club but assured you it was always a hit ; how the money went towards good causes in the city and the toy drives were always overflowing. You wanted to show your support so you went and had a fun time. Bianca introduced you to everyone, from her boss to her coworkers to regulars. It was a strange family-oriented work environment you never imagined. When Pam, the owner and boss, asked if you were interested at all in working for them you turned it down. But when bills started piling up and the holidays were around the corner you thought earning some extra cash would be helpful. So you went back, and was hired right from your interview. 

Pam explained how the club was run by women for women only. Everyone took you through training, first just as a waitress. You learned tips and tricks, and also had to come up with a fake name for security and privacy.

“Wait, so what’s your ‘fake name’?” Eddie asks using quotation marks.

“Lilith.”

“Why Lilith?” 

“It means ‘belonging to the night’. It’s also associated with meanings like ‘demon’ or ‘spirit.’”

“Well that’s badass. How did you come up with that?”

Look down at your lap. “Um, in one of your D&D books. The one you gave me about character building.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah…so anyway. I didn’t even think about dancing but Bianca asked me one day if I wanted to try it, so I did. Everyone thought I did a good job…I was on the next night and it just took off from there.”

“Why haven't you told anyone?”

“Because when Bianca asked me to come to the charity event I didn’t really know what to think about her being a stripper. I didn’t want to judge her, and I didn’t want people or colleagues to judge me. I really enjoy it. I have this new built confidence when I walk through those doors. We all really care for one another and root each other on.”

Eddie shifts himself closer to you. “What do you mean ‘new built confidence’?”

“Let me answer this with a question for you. How do you feel when you’re DM’ing at Hellfire?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, like I’m taking charge. Assertive. I know what I’m doing and I like how I make people feel afterwards.”

You reach and put your hand on his leg. “That’s exactly how I feel when I’m dancing.” You smile, shake your head, laugh to yourself.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s just hilarious that we both feel the same way about two completely different scenarios.”

“Hm, true.”

“Can I ask you a question though?”

“Sure, anything.”

“...What did you think…about the dance…on your birthday?” You gulp.

“Psh, don’t you remember the way I was talking about you when I came here the next morning?” You nod. “Everything I said was true. I couldn’t get you out of my head. And then when I figured out it was you I just…had to tell you I knew. Couldn’t live with that secret, it would have driven me nuts.”

“How did you ask for me anyway? You didn’t even know my name.”

“I asked for the devil from the night before. The women who led me to the private room recognized me from when I was called up for the dance.”

You pondered, “Was she dressed in all silver?”

“...yes?”

“That’s Jade. She gave me a bit of a pep-talk, I almost asked her to go out instead of me.” 

Eddie looks at you muddled, “why didn’t you want to dance for me?”

“Because you're Eddie, you’re one of my closest friends and it just felt…I don't know, awkward.”

“Well, if I’m being honest your friend is very beautiful but,” he takes your chin and lines you up with his eyes, “I’m glad it was you.”

You smile, “I’m glad it was me too.” 

You stare at him for a bit, melting into his touch and his eyes ; and when your lips touch just seconds later without even realizing how close you were, you feel like you died and went to heaven. It was when his tongue slipped its way into your mouth that that confidence you talked about earlier started to kick in. You kick yourself up and straddle his lap, bringing your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself but never breaking the kiss. His hands find your hips, rings digging deep into your shirt, bringing them along to the slow steady pace as he starts with his own hips grinding up. You follow his rhythm and hum, starting to feel way too good.

And even though that confidence was built up for a few moments, your insecurities came rushing through. You part and separate yourself too quickly and mumble “no” ; Eddie looks upset as you stand up. “What’s wrong? Did I take it too far, I’m sorry-”

“No no it’s not you it’s just..me. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

You stutter, tears beginning to paint your cheeks. “It’s just-you never did any of this before. And-now you find out I strip and we’re suddenly making out on my couch. I feel like I’m in some stupid rom com where I took off my glasses and suddenly you see me differently.”

“Hun, I can promise you it’s nothing like that.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude Eddie but I think you should go.”

“But-”

“I just need space, if that makes sense? Can I call you tomorrow or sometime later this week?”

“Yeah of course, whatever you need. I know this is a lot for you.”

“Yeah-yeah it is.” 

He walks over and kisses you on the top of your forehead before leaving. 

“And that’s basically what happened.” You swirl around in an office chair, disappointed in yourself. You were a mess, you spent the whole next morning thinking about Eddie and what happened. Today is even your day off, but you felt like you needed company so you made your way to the club for some hopeful reassurance you weren't taking this too far or overthinking.

“I think it’s sweet he’s giving you space, he understands your concerns and he’s respecting it. You don’t see that a lot nowaday..” Your other co-worker and current security cam watcher Leah has been listening to your rants all day. She just came back from maternity leave but wasn’t ready to dance, so her shifts have been bartending and security watch, mainly the private rooms from the cameras. When you arrived at the club no private dances were happening, so Leah took you to the security room for privacy. “I’m kinda glad you came though, I want to show you something from the night he was here.” She holds up a VHS tape and puts it in the VCR. You watch with bated breath as Eddie shows up on screen.

“What does-”

She puts her hand up, “Just listen.” You watch the footage, as Eddie paces the private room waiting for you to arrive. 

“Hey so, I’ve kind of liked you since high school and…no I can’t start with that.”

>>FF>>

“Finding out about dancing? That is just a perk that will come in the soon to be hopeful relationship…no that doesn’t sound right. Soon to be hopeful relationship? Steve is a fucking idiot for coming up with that line.” 

>>FF>>

“So…wanna go out on a date? Bowling, dinner? …What am I, 14?”

>>FF>>

“Alright Munson, you got this. Just tell her you figured it out and that this doesn’t change how you feel.” Then he plops down on the couch and lays back just as you found him.

Leah stops the tape and looks back to you.

“He…likes me?”

“Guess he does. So much for your negative thoughts huh?”

“I can’t believe this. He’s never shown any signs of…anything.”

“Pft, guys are weird. It took my husband years to ask me out on a first date but I waited! Here we are three years later with a new house and baby. It was all worth the wait, and I’m sure this will be for you too.”

“But how can I make this right? I feel like I screwed it all bigtime.”

“Why don’t you invite him to our charity event in a few weeks? It’s how your story started. Maybe it’ll be a new chapter for him too. Show him instead of talking to him to make things right.”

You smile wide, “...Has anyone told you you’re a genius?”

“And I thought Mom-Brain was getting to me already. But I’ll take the compliment.” You give Leah a hug and head out to make a very important phone call.

Eddie (of course) agreed to attend the charity event, and even offered to pay full price instead of the family and friends discount. You went in a few hours earlier to help set everything up while Eddie arrived when the event began. You introduced him to your co-workers ; some already knew about what happened but for your sake played it off like they knew nothing, which you greatly appreciated. Eddie took a seat at the bar, wishing you luck for your performance later which he was secretly looking forward to. Just before heading to the dressing room you stop by the DJ booth.

“Hey Cassie, here’s my tape for my dance. It’s Track 8, and I go on at 11.”

“Got it. Thanks love!” She looks at the cassette and ponders to herself, “huh, who’s Corroded Coffin?”

Your turn couldn’t come soon enough. Eddie was only two drinks in, constantly looking at the clock waiting for 11 to strike.

“You okay babe?” Leah, (or in tonight's case since she’s working, Carmella), comes over to check on him.

“Huh-yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course, she’ll be on in a few. Excited to watch her?”

“Ohyeah-yeah,totally.Can’t wait.” He takes a large sip of his drink.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

“Can I be real with you for a second?”

“I’m a bartender, I’m here to lend an ear to your problems.” Leah leans in, “talk to me.”

“I’ve liked her forever, I’m just stupid and have never asked her out properly. And I don’t want her to think I’m asking her out now because of all this,” he motions his arms around the room.

“Well maybe she won’t think that.”

“But she does, I know she does. And I just feel like a fucking idiot.”

“Eddie, I can assure you by the end of the night you’re not going to feel that way.”

“How do you-” Just then the lights dim ; Eddie looks at the clock ; 11:00. 

Cassie takes the microphone and introduces you, “and now ladies and gentlemen one of our veteran and favorite dancers, Lilith!”

You take the stage ; back turned towards the crowd, grabbing onto the pole ; a beautiful black outfit snug to your body ; and your music hits the stereos, a loud guitar solo opening the song. 

Eddie thought his eyes were going to fall out of his sockets, immediately recognizing the solo as his own. ; And when you turned your head to face the crowd making eye contact with Eddie and giving him a wink, he knew he was done for.

He watched you in awe, he couldn’t believe someone in a strip club was dancing to his song. But in this case it wasn’t just anyone, it was you. Someone he’s known almost his whole life, someone he’s been trying to ask out for way too long but had doubts because of his own stupidity. When your performance was over he whistled from his seat and immediately turned to Leah, “are any of the private rooms taken?”

When you exited the stage and headed back to the dressing room you were met with cheers and hugs. Everyone loved your dance and gave you your praises. 

After a few moments of celebrating and thank yous, Leah came in, a smirk across her face ; more or less as a ‘I told you so’ look. “Room #2. Go, now” The girls all gave a collective “ohhhhhhhhh”, as you rolled your eyes and left.

Eddie is standing in the middle of the room this time. You shut the door and lean up against it. You're the first to speak up ; “So,” you start to walk closer, “what did you think?”

“Don’t come any closer.” 

You stop, baffled at his words. “Why?”

“Because if you come any closer I’m going to lay you on this couch and do unthinkable things to you.”

You blush, hard. “You sure you wanna do that with a security camera in the corner?”

He looks up at the camera and waves, “free entertainment, no?”

You chuckle, such a typical Eddie answer.

“Well-”

“If you wanna know what I thought, I’m seriously never gonna get you out of my head now. How the hell am I going to ever perform that song without thinking straight?”

You look down shyly, rocking on your heels. 

“And as much as I would love to give your friends some content, I do want to do this whole thing right.” He brings himself to stand right in front of you, “let me take you on a date, a proper one. Pick you up, dinner-”

“Maybe…bowling?” He brings his head to the side, giving you a bewildered look.

“I mean, if you want too-”

“I’m joking, but dinner would be great.”

“Cool-cool. Can I pick you up tomorrow at 6?”

“Sounds like a date.” You stand more on your heels, placing a small kiss to his cheek and leaving him alone in the room.

Quick Notes - Didn't expect this to get as much love as it did so thank you again! Reblogs are appreciated! :) also yes I have an idea for a Part 3 but we'll see!

[amongemeraldclouds]

sober solutions to drunk discoveries

After a drunken kiss blurs the line of friendship, you and Mattheo get in the way of your happiness, prompting Enzo to play matchmaker.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader

Part two to nine shots of firewhiskey, can also be read as a standalone.

Content: fluff, slight angst, spicy but no smut, characters aged up

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 2.5k words

The faint smell of alcohol invaded your senses, growing more pungent as seconds ticked past. The moment you dared to open your eyes, regret flashed through you along with the bright sun that assaulted your vision, hammering drum beats into your skull.

You shifted, burying your face in the pillow, its softness welcoming you back. Except you shouldn't have spun so fast for the entire world itself spun around you. You could have sworn you've never been caught in a tornado before, yet that's exactly what it felt like.

You grabbed the first thing within reach: a muscular arm. It was enough to steady you, anchoring you in place. In the sudden calm, you could finally hear your thoughts: why was there a well chiseled arm wrapped around you? Why did it feel good? What were you doing feeling up someone's arm?

Oh, this arm belonged to Mattheo Riddle. Words drenched in alcohol dripped into your mind like lazy morning dew, "you don't want to fuck me?" You asked Mattheo last night, your eyes wide and body burning with lust and inebriation.

Now it burned with shame. Forget coffee and tonics. Never underestimate the unbridled force of humiliation to knock your senses back into you.

Not for the first time, you wondered which gods you had angered to have incurred another set of misfortune. It was bad enough to be that heartbroken girl who got stuck in detention, sunk her grades, and nearly got disowned by her parents. You also had to be the girl who practically begged your best friend to fuck you.

You shrunk, cringing inwardly as you inched away from beneath the blanket, careful not to wake Mattheo. You breathed a sigh of relief when you landed clumsily with a thud on the floor. The cool air kissed your skin, reminding you to retrieve your blouse from where it lay crumpled on the bed.

A figure stirred from the other end of the room, a bleary eyed Lorenzo stared at you with his sleep-toussled hair. You instinctively wrapped your arms across your chest.

"You didn't see anything!" You whispered, trying to get ahead of him.

He blinked then repeated your words, "I didn't see anything."

"Stop screaming!" you hissed, moving away from Mattheo, blouse in hand.

"I'm not, I'm whispering!" Enzo shot back, arms raised.

"Well whisper softer!"

You turned around, fastening the blouse back on. You had been friends with Enzo long enough to feel his eyes roll from behind you.

"Just use my coat," he whispered and you nodded.

You turned back, "thank you, go back to sleep. I was never here. I'll return this later."

You snuck off, leaving behind the sleepy boy and the boy you love. It was too early to deal with the weight of your feelings. Feelings were reserved for midnight musings. When the sun was up, you had to lists to cross off, grades to earn back, a reputation to salvage, and feelings to avoid. For starters, you desperately needed a shower.

Enzo looked at the spot you just vacated then watched Mattheo, wondering what happened last night. It wasn't like you to sneak off that way, but he knew better than to get involved. You and Mattheo were bound to drag him into it anyway, the least he could do was be well rested for the chaos.

As he went back to sleep, Enzo smiled. You seemed back to your usual self, if a bit jumpier. It was still a win.

The second the bell chimed, you snapped your book shut and were halfway through the classroom, robe fluttering behind you in style. You were eager to be the first one out so you didn't have to run into Mattheo.

It did not add up. Mattheo was your safe space, your confidant, and partner in crime. And yet, something had changed last night. Insecurities swarmed through your head faster than you could outrun them.

What if Mattheo only said he'd be yours because he felt sorry for you? What if it was just a drunken illusion that vanished with sobriety? What if you were better off as friends? You couldn't risk another heartbreak so soon.

A sudden collision brought you back to the present moment as your books crashed onto the floor. "Sorr-" you started when you saw those familiar curls again. Except you now knew how soft they felt between your fingers and you ached to reach out. To be close to him again.

"Hey," Mattheo breathed out. Your eyes travelled straight to his lips, his usual smirk now skewed and awkward. You already missed how they felt against your lips, tender and wild. Your breath caught in your lungs. As luck would have it, you bumped into the very wizard you were trying to avoid. With all your effort to evade him in class, you had completely missed the fact that Mattheo had been skiving off.

You lowered yourself as a distraction and started collecting your books as you gathered your thoughts.

"Mattheo, I-" you started and reached out when he handed you your book. Without meaning to, your fingers brushed against his and your heart was picking up speed again, drumming to the beat of his name. It was too much to handle. "-have to go." You ended your sentence and walked away, resisting the urge to run.

"You have got to stop torturing Riddle," Enzo plopped down the chair beside you.

"I did no such thing," you shot back, your friendship long past the usual pleasantries of 'hi's and 'hello's. "What's he up to this time?"

"He's been prattling on about you at the Astronomy Tower, an entire bottle of firewhiskey in hand. We've got to get him back down," Enzo explained.

Concern spread through you like wildfire, but you hesitated, your insecurities weighing you down. "I don't know if I'm the one who can help him."

Enzo sighed, "What really happened last night?"

"We maybe sort of kind of," you began, "kissed."

"Fina-fucking-ly!" Enzo slammed his hand on the table, the bang echoing across the library. Annoyed faces were directed at him and the librarian's stern gaze burned through his skull. He smiled at them apologetically, turning on his charm.

"What do you mean?" You asked, bringing him back to your conversation.

"Oh come on, y/n," he rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows you and Mattheo are end game, even Cedric could see it too. Fuck that twat for how he dealt with it, you didn't deserve that. But you and Mattheo, it's bound to happen like snow in winter or snakes shedding skin."

"You did not just compare me to snake skin," you scoffed, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Stop deflecting, I said what I said. He likes you, you like him. I don't see the problem," he opened his hands wide to emphasize his point.

"Great, now I feel stupid," you exclaimed.

"And Mattheo's being a tosser up at the Astronomy Tower, you two were truly made for each other."

"Lorenzo Bekrshire, you're a wonderful friend, aren't you?" You replied sweetly, your words laced with sarcasm. "Come on, let's rescue that wanker."

You slowed as you reached the final steps of the Astronomy Tower, the evening breeze cooling you down while your heart pounded in your chest. There was no backing out now, certainly not after going up those long flights of steps. Your legs were jelly from the effort and the anticipation of facing your fears.

You looked tentatively at Enzo, who nodded his support. Just before you took another step, he gently placed his hand around your arm.

"This is where I'll leave you two to figure things out. Lay it all out and don't hold back. It's good advice for sharing your feelings and throwing up. You'll feel better afterwards."

Your eyebrows crinkled, "but I can't haul his drunk arse down the stairs myself."

"Just follow my advice, that'll sober him up. Except for the throwing up part, that one's for Riddle," he smirked.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Enzo quickly raised his finger.

"No more stalling. Look, I've got this date tonight and I won't be back until tomorrow morning. So have fun, yeah? Tell Mattheo, he better not screw it up. I'm running out of coats." With that, he turned and started walking downstairs.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. It didn't make sense that your entire world just blew up months ago. Being with Cedric felt like a lifetime ago, and there in front of you, was your potential future.

Your heart ached at the memory of your kiss. A kiss more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey in the way it breathed life into your world again. A lonely garden now teeming with the butterflies in your stomach and the blossoming of hope and desire. Feelings you had nearly forgotten about.

You approached carefully, crouching down across him as he took another swig from the bottle.

"Oh there you are again," Mattheo slurred, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Your eyes followed the movement as you resisted the urge to reach out to him and kiss him again.

Before you had a chance to respond, he continued. "Of course you're there too, I was just talking to you here," he gestured to the empty space beside him. "I tried not to think about you, you know? You're my fucking best friend. To which I mean that as a cuss word, not that we're best friends who fuck, because we're not. Even though I want us to, which you do too!" He dramatically gestured to you and that space beside him again before going on.

"But you were drunk and I didn't know if you'd still want me when you're sober. And can I be honest? I didn't want to just fuck you. It sounds crass and I know that's ironic coming from me, but..." he trailed off as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry, look at your eyes! You're so beautiful and for the first time, I don't want to fuck. I want all the soppy bullshit poets write about divine dances and souls entangled. Load of bollocks if you ask me, but it makes sense with you. Why is that?"

You blinked, trying to catch up with his drunken ramblings. "So last night, you didn't think I was pathetic?"

"What? You are many things y/n, but never pathetic," he replied. "Anyone would have broken down if they went through everything you did and I wanted to hold you together, but you just got up. Day after day, you got up and you went on. You cried and you screamed and we drank, but then you went on. Do you have any idea how brave you have to be just to do that?"

Tears filled your eyes at his words. He was always more honest when he was drunk but it still caught you off guard how the boy with dark eyes and a dangerous smile hid an entire universe within him.

"No, no, no, hey hey," Mattheo reached forward as a tear slipped down your cheek. "I always fuck things up, don't I?" He said, cupping your face to wipe off the tear. "This is why we're better off as best friends even though I've liked you for a while now. I'll just drink my whiskey and talk to this imagined version of you."

You suddenly quirked an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. He was so adorable, you hated the roller coaster of emotions you were on but no longer wanted to walk away from. "Can figments of imagination cry?"

"Well they never did except for you, so that's new. Unless..." he trailed off, the gears in his head spinning albeit rusty from the alcohol. You watched patiently as his eyes widened and crimson flooded his cheeks. "You're real, aren't you?"

"Only one way to find out," you said as you closed the distance between you and kissed him. Of course it was a lie. There were so many ways to find out, but fuck it you just needed to kiss him. And there it was again, more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey. It was an eternity you could live in forever.

The weight of the kiss sank deep in Mattheo's bones, grounding him from the drunken haze in his head. Your kiss was sobering and intoxicating at the same time, a delicious cocktail of emotions that far outweighed the experience of drinks and drugs. You may have ruined it for him forever and he didn't mind it one bit.

Mattheo held you close as he kissed you, one hand at the back of your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you straddled him. It was always inevitable, wasn't it? Falling for you. You with your beautiful face, the way you made him laugh, and how he felt at home with you. His heart never stood a chance.

For once, he wanted to move past his flaws and fears, so he could finally allow himself to want you. He felt it with the intensity at which he sucked your bottom lip, asking to be let in. You gasped at his boldness and his tongue darted in to explore your mouth. He may be good at fucking shit up, but for you he wanted to try.

A grunt escaped his throat when you rocked your hips against him and you were rewarded with the growing length you felt in his pants. Your fingers were wrapped in his curls while the other moved around his arm, feeling up his muscles again.

You needed to finish your conversation before you allowed yourself to go further. Reeling in your desires, you broke up for air. You were surprised when this didn't deter Mattheo as he kissed your jaw instead, planting delicate kisses down your neck. You sighed in pleasure, ready to let go of the words, but you needed to reassure him.

"Mattheo Riddle, my sweet Matty, you should know you don't just screw things up. You bring so much life and energy wherever you go and I'm so happy I get to be around you a lot. You're a firecracker, Riddle."

"For you darling, I'll be a fucking nebula," he said, his lips swollen and hair disheveled. You took a moment to drink him all in and admire your handiwork.

Tiny fireworks exploded in your chest at his words and you giggled at how sweet he was when he was drunk, both on alcohol and in love. "Now what was it you told me last night? I'm sober and I still want you so"

"I'm all yours," he completed the sentence, kissing you again.

In between kisses, you asked, "and what exactly did the poets mean about divine dances and soul entanglements?"

Mattheo gave a low chuckle, "oh princess, I'm no fucking poet, let me show you instead."

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

A/N: This is the first time I've written a part two for a fic. Matchmaking Enzo is my fave!