#clear liquid too MMMM

[jrueships]

6f4

how did you know i can never remember any song lyrics fully ....

[hoshigray]

suguru and choso making the reader squirt for the first time via reader receiving oral... please and thank u sm hoshibutt 👅

၇͜ᩘ𑁍 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - breast fondling + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - first time squirting! - pet names (baby, cutie, good girl, sweetie) - reader is a bit self-conscious - mention of saliva.

“How is it, baby? Feeling good?”

“A-Ahh…y-yesss, feels good…Mmmm, so good.”

“Ya hear that, Choso? Keep doing what you’re doing!”

You throw your head back to Geto’s shoulder, who’s stationed behind you, his hands nestled inside your shirt to grope your chest. Meanwhile, Choso kneels on the floor, the pony-tailed man going to town between your legs.

It was meant to be a typical date, spending the afternoon in your boyfriends’ apartment. You could’ve sworn that today entailed some delicious slices of local pizza, video games, and an action movie. However, you might have guessed somewhere down the line that the two men would eventually derail their attention from the television screen into a film of their own…

All three of you were in the living room, your back glued to the front of Geto’s red flannel shirt. The long raven-haired man’s hands fondle your chest lovingly while Choso feasts on your cunt, wet with his saliva lathering your folds with his tongue. He holds your legs apart so the focus on your chasm is easier to maintain.

You screw your eyebrows together at the flick of your clitoris by the wet muscle. “Ohhh, ohhh…!”

“Making cute noises for us, cutie?” Geto kisses your cheek and tweaks your nipples pleasantly. “Your nipples are getting stiff, too.”

Choso sucks your essence after spitting on your labia, flinging his tongue around to gather as much of your taste as he can. He then peers up to see that Geto has lifted your shirt, exposing your chest to the open. He swallows thickly and removes his lips from your vulva, bringing his lips to capture one of the buds of your mounds. You mewl at the contact of his tongue, now swirling around your nipple as he sucks sluggishly.

“Heh, must taste good everywhere, huh?” Geto doesn’t expect an answer from Choso sucking on your tit. Instead, he coats his middle and ring finger with his saliva and travels them down to your folds, pushing them inside with ease and immediately wriggling them around to feel your gummy texture. 

You cry out at the insertion, his digits going faster after a few jagged pushes and pulls. He dwells them further, scraping your insides with his blunt fingertips. And the pace becomes frantic, digging them knuckle-deep at a fast rhythm that has you gripping on Choso’s black tee for support. 

“Gaaahhh, w-wait, slow down!” You’re wailing in pleads. There’s too much going on: Choso sucking on your tit relentlessly, pushing your nipple to the top of his mouth, and grazing it with his teeth. And Geto, playing with the other mound while he pleases you with vaginal stimulation. “N-Naaahh, Christ, wait!” Your body wishes to jerk, but your legs are pushed to your chest, leaving your lower half squirming to no end. Something’s coming! “I-I caann’t—Dahaahh!” 

Geto’s sporadic movements have you whining until he removes them to lick, and Choso releases your nipple to return to your vulva, sucking on your clit and lapping around your urethra and inner lips. Shivers rock your core, and you–unforsakenly–let loose.

Between your legs, you unleash a clear, watery substance, ejecting it into Choso’s mouth. It takes him aback, tilting back to let the liquid spray slightly. However, he returns to lick the glands after a moment, secreting the surprising liquid that still exudes from your system and leaves a watery mess everywhere. Until it stops, it sprinkles all over your inner thighs and surely wets the giver’s shirt.

Violet eyes ventured down and witnessed the entire scene. “Oh, woah!”Three figures stay frigid for a few seconds, assessing what occurred within the past ten seconds. “…I had no idea you were a squirter.”

“Same here,” Choso agrees, licking his lips and wiping his cheeks with his shirt after straightening himself.

“Neither did…I?” You blink, a little too shocked to move. “I-…I’m sorry, I made your clothes wet!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Geto’s hands leave your chest and come to your inner thighs to massage. “It’s normal.”

“N-No, really, though; I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I could even do that; it went in your mouth, and I probably ruined this whole—“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Choso palms your cunt to smear the substance you squirted. “That was…pretty fucking hot.”You open your lips to rebuttal, yet impossible as they stun you. The pig-tailed man takes off his shirt and slides his jeans down to his knees, and your breath hitches at his long cock springing out from his bowers. 

“Yeah, it was,” Geto chimes in while the other takes a seat next to him and takes you by the hand. “I’m kinda curious if you can do that again now.”

Awkwardness still has you by the neck, but Choso coaxes you while massaging your ass, sneaking his finger inside to finger. “Mmmph…You–Are you sure?”

“Totally,” Geto chuckles as he stands and strips his flannel shirt. His arms are now out from the white tank top. “Can’t let this opportunity go to waste, right?”

“C’mere, sweetie,” Choso guides you by the waist, the glans of his erect cock pushing onto the entrance of your asshole. You gasp sharply once you feel him add himself, leisurely bringing your ass down to sit on him. After a few seconds of a few bounces on his dick, Geto brings your legs for Choso to hold so your wet slit is out for his vision.

Geto licks his fingers with a dark snicker. “Stay just like that,” the digits skim around your labia until they’re pushed inside. 

You jolt with a shriek, Choso right there to soothe you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Good girl.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[loneamaryllis]

So I was talking with @racfoam about her Harrymort Muggle AU, specifically this one, and I said I'd write Harry giving Voldemort a blowjob while he holds a knife to her throat.

And I did. Here:

The cold floor bit into her knees, but Harry was more concerned about the edge of the blade that was currently caressing her throat. Cold and sharp, it gently pressed into her skin, meandering up and down, the fine tip of it digging in, then moving on, in a repeating pattern.

Voldemort smiled down at her, his eyes glowing red in the light of the fire roaring in the hearth behind her.

"Good girl," he said, because Harry wasn't fighting, and Harry wasn't running.

No, Harry was kneeling before him, and though she hated every second of it, she was obeying him. She didn't want that knife to sink into her again.

"Undo my belt, Harry."

The knife emphasized the order with a little nudge, the blade rasping across her pulse point. Harry reached for his belt and opened it. The rigid line that was Voldemort's erection was very visible in his dark trousers, the bulge straining against the fabric. Harry really didn't want to be at eye-level with it.

"Take my cock out."

...unfortunately, she didn't have a choice.

She had seen his cock before, but she had never been this close to it, and it had never been erect. It was substantially thick, the shaft red and engorged, the tip nearly purple, and crowned with a small bead of liquid. A small shiver went down her spine, half-disgust, half-dread.

"Wrap your pretty lips around me, darling," Voldemort crooned.

Harry leaned forward and took his cockhead into her mouth. The knife followed, its edge feathering across her skin in another tender caress. Voldemort sighed in pleasure.

She licked at his cock, moving her head a little, hyper-aware that any wrong movement would end in blood. She nearly didn't register the taste of him, a salty, slightly bitter tang, though it did increase in strength when his cock leaked a spurt of pre-come right onto her tongue. A hand slid in her curls, seeking to guide her.

"Like that, yes... take a little more..."

He inched his hips forward, pushing more of his prick into Harry's mouth. She emitted a muffled sound of protest as he kept pressing more and more of his stiff cock past her lips.

"Shh, shh, you can take it..."

He groaned in audible bliss, rocking his hips forward. His cockhead breached her throat, and she gagged around him, spluttering. The knife teased along her jugular, cold, sharp, and in the hand of a man who had currently nearly his entire cock sheathed in her reluctant mouth.

"Mmmm-pphhhh," she said, tears stinging her eyes as Voldemort showed no sign of easing up.

She couldn't even breathe like that. His cock stole her air, stole her composure, stole everything from her, until she was just a trembling girl on her knees, a vessel for his dark perversions.

"You're doing so well," he praised, his hand twisting in her hair, adjusting the angle of her head so his prick lay more heavily on her tongue. "So well, Harry..."

Her vision erupted with black spots. Pressure mounted, her throat fluttered around his breaching cock, and she swore she could feel it throb, could feel Voldemort's excitement and pleasure as he forced her to take his cock.

Finally, his hips drew back, and Harry could breathe. She took a strained inhale through her nose, Voldemort's cock still occupying her mouth. He bared his teeth in a terrifying smile. Harry thought that might have been the smile his victims had seen before he had cut them into little pieces.

"Are you struggling, my dear? Shall I make this easier for you?"

He pumped his cock in shallow thrusts, staying clear of her throat. She moaned around his girth, and she didn't know if she meant to convey gratitude, or if she was protesting still. Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and her jaw ached, stretched too wide by Voldemort's massive cock. She moaned again. Perhaps if she moaned enough he would finish fast.

"Keep looking at me, Harry. I want you to look me in the eyes while I fuck your mouth."

She made an effort to maintain eye contact. He groaned, thrusting faster. Between praises (good girl, such a hot mouth, made for me), his breaths came with moans. The knife remained steady at her throat while his hips snapped faster and faster, the sloppy sounds of the blowjob getting louder.

"I'll come down that tight throat," he groaned, the lines of his face tensing up, his mouth thinning.

Harry groaned.

"No? Ah, very well..."

He suddenly pulled out, his glistening cock an inch from Harry's face. The knife pressed up threateningly.

"Then make me come like this.. Use both hands, little bird."

Harry complied, wrapping her hands around his cock and stroking. It glided easily, his erection wet with her saliva. She worked quickly, trying to put an end to this.

"Open your mouth."

When she did, he emitted a low, dark rumble.

"Mmm, yes... I'll come right on that pretty little tongue..."

Two more strokes of her hands on his stiff cock, and cum spurted in thick jets, coating her tongue. She flinched but kept her mouth open. He released more bursts of seed, each one aimed in her mouth, until a heavy pool of cum lay on her tongue.

"Swallow."

His semen slid down her throat. He smiled, the knife shifting up, the tip of it tracing the line of her jaw.

"Thank you, Harry. I know you'd be stunning on your knees, sucking my cock, drinking my cum... and I was right."

[etes-secrecy-post]

Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

Take a Taste: with a Can of Royal Crown Cola - 1905 Edition [Jun 2nd, 2024]

Hello! It’s time for another “Take a Taste”! The series is about delicious food with my two paper dolls.

And today, I will quickly review this cool "1905 Edition" of the "Royal Crown Cola", shortly known as "RC Cola"! 🥤😊 Unless, if you say "Remote Control Cola", then you're absolutely wrong, buddy. ❌ Nonetheless, will it taste better than the regular RC Cola? 🤔 Let's find out! 😁

IMPORTANT NOTE: You know, I was gonna submit my next topic from April of 2024, but I decided to post my recent photos.

If you haven’t seen my previous episode, then please → [CLICK ME!].

IMPORTANT NOTE: No #OnThisDay throwback post for this date, only exclusive post on the "Super Secret Blog".

So, without further ado, let’s get started:

1st to 6th Image(s) 📷📲: ↑

• [1st to 4th Images] First off, let's appreciate the look of this cool Royal Crown Cola design. It has some little information about the man (Claud A. Hatcher, Pharm.) who made the "RC Cola" today, since 1905. It may not be as famous as say "Coca-Cola" or "Pepsi", but you could tell that this cola had made of its own by copying the traditional recipe from the aforementioned two soft drink giants. Although correct me if I'm wrong, the can itself should be reflected in the first two colors of the "Royal Crown Cola", as well as the logo's inception. 🟥🟨🤔

Fun fact: The "ARC Refreshment Corp." was started in 2002, and they licensed the "Royal Crown Cola" (or RC Cola) from the "Keurig Dr. Pepper" company in the US for the Philippine consumers 🇵🇭🥤, a time when Pepsi bottles and Coca-Cola cans sold well and they need another competitor in the Cola wars 🥤💥. As of 2024, they're still producing "RC Cola" in the Philippines, with one "weird" controversial commercial that was already axed in the public, and you could only watch it on their RC Cola Philippines' official YT channel. And if you want see it, then here → [CLICK ME!].

• [5th & 6th Images] Nonetheless, I have my clear glass right here to see what color of this classic RC Cola. And of course, how can we not forget our beloved paper dolls to taste the classic "Royal Crown Cola"! 😁 Can't wait to see the taste, eh you two? 😊

7th to 11th Image(s) 📷📲: ↑

• [7th to 9th Images] Okay, the fizz was opened, and here's what it look like from the glass. The can itself is empty when I transfer it. I should be more careful when I holding my hands on a fill liquid glass. That said, it is a typical cola color. Nothing special here, but, what about the taste? Let me sip, then... 🤔

• [10th & 11th Images] *sipping* Mmmm... I'd say, I never tasted this super sweet soda before. In my comparison with the regular RC Cola, it doesn't taste like the 1905 version. I'd say, this is a different kind of soda taste for at least once before I drink a single bottle of mineral water to wash my sweet cola off my taste buds. Hey, would you like to drink the rest of my cola, you two? It's all yours. 😋

Overall:

• Well, this is A-Okay I suppose? 🤔 Although it's already too late for me to make a comparison with the "New Coke" from the 80s, or that special limited edition collaboration with the "Stranger Things" show on Netflix. All that aside, I'm not a fan of the Royal Crown Cola 1905's sweet taste. It doesn't suit my taste buds when I'm eating something, only Coca-Cola and Pepsi, or maybe a normal "RC Cola" should do the quench. So, overall, is worth the ₱30 💵 price can of "Royal Crown Cola 1905"? Maybe. 🤔 In case I'm tired of drinking the aforementioned iconic soft drinks in favor of a different approach. I should try the "No Sugar" variant, plus I'll get the normal RC Cola, too for a comparison, someday. In the meantime, I'll stick with nice clear water. 💧🥤😊

Well, that's all for now. 😊

If you haven’t seen my previous episodes, then I’ll provide some links down below.↓😉

Take a Taste:

○ 2021 Food Reviews: ○

• Popeyes U.S. Spicy Chicken Sandwich [Dec 6, 2021]

• Jollibee Chick'nwich & Crisscut Fries [Dec 21, 2021]: Part 1 [CLICK ME! #1], Part 2 [CLICK ME! #2]

○ 2022 Food Reviews: ○

• Mini Stop Chicken Fillet XL Sandwich [Feb 7, 2022]

• Minute Burger Cheese Burger(s) [Mar 1, 2022]

• Pepper Lunch Teriyaki Beef Pepper Rice w/ Egg (& Honey Brown Sauce) [Mar 5, 2022]

• Bacsilog’s Sulit Combo Bacon-Tocino & Samgyup Day’s Pork Herbs [Mar 12, 2022]

• Burger King Whopper w/ Sides & Drink [May 6, 2022]

• Marshmello’s Limited Edition Coca-Cola Zero [Aug 26, 2022]

• Cheesy Burger McDo with Lettuce & Tomatoes Meal [Recorded: Sept 16, 2022]

• Mcdonald’s PH McSpicy & Apple Pie (featuring their World Famous Fries) [Nov 14, 2022]

• Mcdonald’s McCrispy Hamonado Sandwich [Dec 31st, 2022]

○ 2023 Food Reviews: ○

• Foods from Delicious Restaurant & 1919 Grand Cafe [Jan 8th, 2023]

• Homemade Churros by my lil’ bro [Feb 12th, 2023]

• Lugaw Sisig from Mang Boy Alfredo Lugawan Restaurant [Recorded: Feb 18th, 2023]

• La Prato Stakehouse [Recorded: Apr 10th, 2023]

• Salt ‘n Light Snack Shack’s Cheesy Bacon Burger & Fries [Recorded: Apr 14th, 2023] (Published on May 5th, 2023)

• Delicious burger meal at Tokyo Tokyo Restaurant [Recorded: May 6th, 2023]

• Delicious meals at the Valenzuela Food Fiesta Christmas Bazaar 2023 [Recorded: Dec. 10th, 2023]

○ 2024 Food Reviews: (Chronological) ○

• Mang Inasal Pork Sisig [Recorded: Jan 10th, 2024]

• Mr. Shaw Shawarma Rice [Recorded: Mar 24th, 2024]

• Mang Inasal's Chicken Inasal - Pecho (Chicken Breast) [Recorded: Mar 26th, 2024]

• Uncle John's Chili Con Empanada and Sprite Lemon Plus [Recorded: Mar 30th, 2024]

• Chowking Spicy Chao Fan [Recorded: Mar 30th, 2024]

• Samgyupsal dinner night at the Samgyup Mukbang restaurant [Recorded: May 12th, 2024]

• Meals from the Next Door Noodles by North Park [Recorded: May 19th, 2024]

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad (Issue #7: Mega-Shark vs Magical Girls!!!)

A cloud of burning ash settled over the Bishop’s eyes, and the world went dark. The ash slithered into his ears and up his nostrils, and the entryways to his mind howled with hot pain. Anger festered inside his skull, anger and shock and denial and pure, simple, logical, powerful hatred. Hatred of the person who’d attacked him, hatred of the demons who attacked his city, his world, who defied God’s good name. Hatred for the girls He tasked with protecting them- hatred of the degenerates Heather and Nicholas, hatred of the perversions they embodied; hatred of the other three, their arrogance and their apathy and their loyalty to the other two; hatred of himself for allowing them to prosper, for allowing them into His Holy Church in the first place. It dulled his senses, melted the barriers of his mind, and the burning ash settled in and polluted the water of his consciousness. The ash did not dissolve, did not settle, but overtook the clear liquid and turned it pitch black. The polluted water flowed from his mind into his soul, staining it with the demon’s essence, and the Bishop’s thoughts, his feelings, and his memories floated to the surface and mixed with the ashes. The filth saturated every fiber of his being, resonating with the Taint of Original Sin already present. The barrier between the demon and the Bishop blurred, and deep inside the darkest recesses of his soul, in the small place still sterile, the Bishop wept as his most private thoughts and feelings were cannibalized. 

Through eyes that were no longer his, the Bishop saw the woman in the devil mask approach him and reach a hand down into his shoulder wound. She tore off a chunk of flesh and removed her mask to slide the bloody meat down her throat. 

The woman was well into her forties, hair more gray than black, with olive skin and teeth that were too white and too sharp. “Mmmm,” she said, “Tastes like doves. And hubris and bigotry and… Greed? Now that’s interesting.”

The Bishop’s voice rumbled up from his neck and spoke without his consent, without his desire, without his mind, and said, “That right, babe?”

“Yeah, baby, it is,” the woman said. She leaned in and kissed him, and to his shock and horror and revulsion, the Bishop’s body kissed the devil-woman back. His own blood went from her lips to his and slid down his throat, and deep inside his own body, Bishop Marcus Roberts wept with abject terror. 

***

“Who are you and what do you want?” Nicole demanded as the young woman in the devil mask walked into the room and shut the door behind her. Nicole backed up, hands raised and palms flat, not taking her eyes off the cocked gun. 

“I told you, silly, just to talk,” the woman said. “About you, about me, about us-”

“Didn’t you lend me a bra yesterday?” Nicole asked. The girl’s voice was familiar, but it was ultimately a shot in the dark. 

“Think of it more as a gift,” the woman said. A dead-on target shot in the dark. Dang, aight. Good to know what I’m working with, Nicole thought. 

“So you live here, then,” Nicole said. “You’ve been posing as one of us-”

“One of what? A student? I am a student, sweetie. And I’m a sorority girl.”

“And you’re also, what, a Satanist?”

“That I am! Teehee!” the young woman chirped. 

“You can drop the mask, then, I know what you look like,” Nicole said. It was only partially true- Nicole could somewhat recall the girl’s face, but they’d only actually spoken for a brief snatch of sentences yesterday before the girl had unhooked the bra she’d been wearing, pulled it out from under her top, and handed it to Nicole. It was more her voice and her posture that Nicole recognized- she didn’t even know this psycho sorority sister’s name. “Your cover is already blown.”

“Yeah, but I never get to wear this thing, and I mean look at it, it’s so fucking cool!” the girl said. “Besides, it’s not like you’ll tell anyone about this.”

“Then kill me already,” Nicole said.

“I’m not here to kill you, silly!” the devil-woman giggled. “I’m here to ask if you want to join us!”

Nicole blinked. This girl wasn’t serious. She couldn’t be serious. That was just… so very absurd that… That… “Pfffftttttt hahahahahahah!” Nicole laughed. 

“Why are you laughing?” the girl sounded genuinely hurt, genuinely confused. 

“Because you think I’m gonna join your Satanic death cult or whatever this is? Blue Blazes, have you met me?! I was an altar boy, for crying out loud!” Nicole said. 

“So was my boyfriend before he joined up,” the girl shrugged. 

“Well that’s not me,” Nicole said. “And I am not ever, EVER going to join the forces of darkness, so you may as well just shoot me!”

“And why would you wanna stay with the people you’re with?” the girl said. “It’s not like they want you. The Church sure doesn’t. God definitely doesn’t. Your own family doesn’t, for fuck’s sake!”

Nicole blinked again. “That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is: they say they want you, but that’s only what they say to your face. What people say behind your back is vastly more telling: it’s easy for them to say to your face that they accept you, but in their minds they know that having you around will make their lives more difficult. They know that as soon as you become inconvenient, as soon as the bigots start to come for you, the only thing they’ll be able to do to stay alive is wash their hands of you like the filth they secretly think you are. Once the Archdiocese finds out about their newest magical girl, you know they’re gonna cut you loose, and once your little brother’s friends find about you, they’ll make him suffer. Once your father’s and mother’s coworkers find out, they’ll ostracize them. Once your little sister’s boyfriend finds out, she’ll be lucky if all he does is dump her. And the only way they’ll have any semblance of their old lives back is by cutting you out!”

Nicole blinked once more, and this time tears leaked out. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true, please God don’t let it be true. But… It made sense. She wasn’t of any real use to anyone like this- the way she was would only make life worse for the people she cared about. 

“Then kill me,” Nicole said. 

“... Wait, seriously?”

“If my being this way is gonna hurt the people I care about, then my death is the only thing that can save them from that hurt. Kill me,” Nicole said, her voice hollow and her throat hoarse.

“Fucking hellfire, girl, either I’ve gotta work on my negging skills or you’re just… Fucking pathetic. Satan, Sin, Death, now I just wanna put you out of your misery-”

Through all the doors and empty space, a knocking registered on the outside. 

“Nick?” Zack’s thin, reedy voice reached all the way through. “It’s your brother. A Priest named Father Gonzalez said I could find you here. It’s just me, and I just wanna talk. You in there?”

Nicole saw what had to be a smile bloom beneath the devil mask and reach all the way to the young woman’s eyes. “Answer the door. If you don’t, I’ll kill him and make you watch.”

Inside Nicole, the brittle twig of her patience and self-control snapped. As the young woman opened the bedroom door, Nicole charged. 

The gun fired. The bullet tore through the door. On the other side, Zack screamed in agony.

A flood of memories surged through Nicole, beginning in her mind and rushing down into her body. Her shield hummed, and she wanted nothing more than to extend it to Zack. 

A summer’s day eleven years prior, the air filled with pollen and salt water, the wind snaking between the trees around their driveway, Nicole holding onto Zack’s shoulders as he pedaled on a bike finally stripped of its training wheels. He was so eager, and Dad was away, and Mom was busy cleaning the house and watching little Monica. Nicole let go and clapped as he rode the bike up and down their asphalt driveway. He cheered and cheered and cheered as he realized he was doing it, and together they rode their bikes down to the ice cream store to celebrate. 

A fall morning ten years prior, on the bus taking the two of them to elementary school, packed to the gills with rambunctious children screeching and hollering, the stench of oil and sweat choking the interior. The younger kids refused to let Zack sit with them, yelled at him and called him mean names until he’d started crying, and so Nicole had walked up from the back of the bus and brought Zack to sit with them. Her fellow fourth graders hadn’t exactly been happy about that, but she hadn’t cared then and then she didn’t care now. 

A winter’s afternoon, fresh-fallen snow blanketing the whole town. School was off for the day, and the hill their house resided on was perfect for sledding. The two of them spent the whole day on their toboggan, up and down the hill as slivers of sunlight sparkled on the white expanse. Nicole was in middle school now, the pain of puberty driving fresh spikes through her heart every day. Only her shield kept her safe, and only taking care of Zack made her feel normal. When they were done, Nicole made them both hot chocolate, and they sat on the deck together watching the clouds drift away and reveal the stars of the night sky. The stars reflected on the snow they’d flattened beneath their sled, and woodsmoke aroma accented the area along with the scent of chicken stew boiling inside the house. 

A spring day, the first warm and dry one of the new year. Zack had started playing basketball that year, and hadn’t had a good debut season. Nicole found him crying, and he screamed when he saw her, told her to go away, but she hadn’t listened: she grabbed him by the scruff and led him outside onto the same asphalt where she’d taught him to ride a bike, and she taught him to shoot a basketball properly, how set picks, how to pivot. The whole day vanished into that practice, and by the end he’d gotten it, and she saw that smile light up his face once more. The air was clean and fresh from all the spring rain they’d gotten, their hands dirty from the wet grime on the ball, but it didn’t matter. None of that had mattered then, and it didn’t matter to her now. 

She taught him to shave. Had started teaching him to drive the previous summer. Taught him to shoot a gun and hunt a rabbit and clean the kill. Taught him to cook. Taken him to his first PG-13 movie, his first R-rated movie. She’d given him so much and no matter what happened to them, even if he hated her, hated what she was, who she was becoming, that didn’t matter to her. Not then, not now. Not ever. 

Pink light exploded from behind her shield, pulsing through her, reverberating through her each and every molecule and singing out into the world. A rod appeared in her hand, the solid mass manifesting from nowhere and tripling the power that surged through her. It was the feeling of being alive, one she’d barely felt before the past week, rising exponentially within her like a rising sun finally taking its proper place in the sky above. She hopped on her broomstick, and she flew. 

She slammed into her opponent, the blunt end of her broom crashing into the woman’s lower back. Nicole heard a crunching sound as she willed her broom to accelerate; it was linked to her mind, her soul, and the more she felt, the faster she flew. She kept jamming the end into the same spot where Amy had been stabbed the previous day and watched the woman’s legs lose contact with the rest of her body as she slammed into the floor face-first. Her mask shattered on the floor as she howled with animalistic pain. 

Nicole willed the broom to stop, and she jumped off and ran past her opponent to where her baby brother lay bleeding on the ground. The streets lay barren, people presumably hiding inside their homes at the sound of gunfire. The bullet had gone through his stomach, and his hand clutched the gaping hole that was now there. Beneath the harsh, clear sunlight, Zack Nygaard lay dying. 

Nicole approached him, channeling the pink healing light into her hands. She could fix this, it would be okay, it had to be okay-

“Don’t touch me,” Zack groaned. “Please don’t touch me. Please don’t-”

The words became her bullet wound, and her shield could not protect her this time. 

Part of her wanted to turn away, a hideous voice in the recesses of her mind that wanted her not to care what happened. It was safer that way, easier that way.

She didn’t listen to it- she knew the right thing to do. Knew what she had to do. 

She reached for him, and he tried to shimmy away, but once more she grabbed hold of her sibling by the scruff of his neck and channeled the light into him. 

When it was done, she collapsed onto the ground. She finally noticed she was wearing the full regalia, the pastel pink knee-length loose-fitting dress and matching witch’s hat. Her broomstick lay on the sidewalk next to her. 

Zack sat up, running his hand over the scarless tissue of his stomach that had moments prior been a mortal wound. Nicole gasped for breath as she smiled at him. 

He opened his mouth to talk. 

“Don’t,” Nicole said. “Just don’t. I already know what you’re gonna say. I’m not gonna apologize for saving your life.”

He closed his mouth, and his eyes went narrow and he looked at the ground. 

Explosions broke open the sky deep into the city, shaking the air. Nicole grabbed her broomstick and hopped to her feet. She turned around to where the Satanist lay flat on the ground and pried the gun from her hands. 

The Satanist looked up from the puddle of her shattered mask, her face cut up and bleeding. Her eyes, however, were normal. This woman was not possessed. Never had been. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Then go see a doctor,” Nicole sneered. 

“Heal me, like you did him, dammit!”

“You hurt my brother,” Nicole said. Realization poured through her, at what it all meant. She’d never been a big brother, not really, but she’d always been a big sister, and if she were being honest she’d done more than her share of raising the boy. “You hurt my kid. And you’re still trying to bark orders at me. I don’t know what kinda place you were raised in to get that level of entitlement, but you’re lucky I’m such a good Christian, otherwise you’d already be on your way downstairs.” She turned to her brother. “Zack. You got your phone on you?”

He nodded, still not making eye contact, still sitting in the street. 

“Call 9-1-1, tell them you need everything they’ve got. There’s been shots fired, and this woman tried to kill a minor, but you managed to fend her off.”

“I don’t… I don’t trust the cops,” Zack said. 

“I don’t either, but it’s either that or you fly into an active battle with me right now.”

“I… I’d rather do that.”

“Thought you didn’t want me touching you.”

His voice was ironed monotone-flat. “... I don’t. But I know I’m safe with you.”

Nicole sighed. “Entitlement. Everywhere I see. Here I thought I raised you better than that. You know Mom and Dad are probably losing their minds right now?”

“That’s… That’s probably true.”

“Not probably, definitely!” Nicole snapped. Saved your darned life and you’re still acting like this- at least Amy had the decency to thank me. “You ran off on your own into a city you’ve been to exactly twice in your life, one which has been having daily demon attacks for the past week. Aren’t you smarter than that?”

“I-”

“Rhetorical. Question.”

That was when a silver Toyota minivan barreled towards them. It screeched to a halt, and Mom and Dad and Monica all came bounding out. The family car had been with them for twenty years now- it was their parents’ oldest child, frankly. Nicole was amazed the thing still worked. 

“Zack! Nic- Nicole!” Mom whispered as loud as she could. She ran towards them and embraced them both, and before either of them could wriggle free, Dad and Monica joined the hug as well. 

Finally, they let each other go. “What on earth happened?” Dad asked. 

“Satanist,” Nicole gestured to the woman lying on the ground behind her. Then she gestured towards the cloud of smoke choking the sky and said, “Demons. Get Zack out of here- he was shot.”

“You were shot!?” Mom and Dad both said. 

“I healed him,” Nicole said. 

Monica beamed at her. “You can-”

“Yes! But right now I’ve got some more work to do.”

“Wait, what?” Mom said. “Nicole, you can’t just-”

“Honey,” Dad said. “She has to. This is who she is. What she does. Ain’t that right, daughter o’ mine?”

Nicole couldn’t hide the big, stupid, proud grin on her face. Nor did she want to. “Yes, sir.”

“Just,” Mom stammered, “Come back to us safe and sound.”

“Will do!” Nicole said. “We’re still on for dinner tonight, okay?”

And with that, she hopped onto her broom. She felt the ground beneath her feet, the strength of her family, of God, and of herself, flowing through her. This was who she was, and knowing that let her fly. 

The ground faded from beneath her feet, and she shot through the air. The wind bent around her, and the city below fell further and further away. The air peeled around her skin, warm from her friction, like an air dryer over her entire body keeping her awake and alert and yet oddly calm. Through what must have been magic, her hat stayed firmly in place on her head. The slightest shift of her weight turned her left or right, up or down, and the mere suggestion of greater or lesser speed adjusted her velocity. An electric excitement hummed throughout her entire body, and to nobody in particular, she said, “It’s like I’m some kind of human rocket!” 

Nicole flew, and she flew, and she flew. And she’d never felt more alive. 

***

Cass flew, and she flew, and flew, and she’d never been felt terrified for her life. The skeletal megalodon gave chase through the sky. Higher and higher and higher she soared, desperately trying to keep the kaiju away from the city below. Land-sharks appeared from nowhere and plummeted to the ground to gnaw off the legs of everyone in sight, while the masked man wreaked havoc. Heather, Debbi, and Amy would hopefully be enough to handle things on the ground. 

Cass just hoped she would be enough for the situation in the air. 

She pivoted left as the beast’s maw nearly snapped shut around her, narrowly avoided razor-sharp teeth and tongues of hellfire. 

Up, avoiding a swipe from the beast’s fin. 

Circling down as the shark redirected itself upwards. 

Left again. Dammit, I’m just leading this thing in circles. She gave the creature a shove with her telekinesis, and managed to hold in place as it hovered in the air and roared with black flames and unbridled rage. Cass hovered ten feet away, both hands extended, palms held flat, all her will pouring into keeping the shark from moving. Her broomstick wobbled, and her hands shook, and the shark moved forward an inch. 

“Shit,” she said as her broom began to sink lower, and lower, and lower, towards the sea of black smoke separating herself from the city below, from the people she was meant to save, from the handful of people she felt even a sliver of a connection to. 

Not that it mattered. She was expendable. Debbi was more of a leader, Heather was the muscle, Amy was the moral support, and now with Nicole as the healer they had a properly balanced party. The only thing that made Cass special was that she came first. That was it. It didn’t matter if she died. 

Lower.

Lower. 

Lower. 

The shark broke free of the telekinetic prison, the monster of cartilage and hellfire rushing at her as she fell.

Except she wasn’t falling. Something was holding her up. 

Nicole floated below her, grunting as she pushed upwards on Cass’ broom. She’d transformed, fully and completely. Hat and everything. “Nicole?” Cass said, half-convinced this was her dying hallucination. 

“Yup!” Nicole said. 

“You’re here,” Cass said, wide-eyed. 

“I am! And so is the big boy there!” Nicole said, pointing. 

“Oh shit!” Cass screamed. And she flew. She didn’t know where the will, the strength to do so, came from, but she flew high into the sky and narrowly avoided the maw once more. The two magical girls soared together, gaining as much proverbial ground as possible. 

“Well I’m glad you’re here, but I still have no idea how to beat this thing,” Cass said. 

“Actually, I had an idea when I saw it,” Nicole said. “It’s a gamble, but it’s the best I’ve got. Can you hold this thing in place again?”

Cass nodded, turned around, and raised her palms. Nicole was here. Her friend was here. And the rest of her friends were here as well, on the ground, fighting the good fight. She owed it to them to come back. 

The kaiju stopped short of them, jaws spread wide. Nicole flew straight for it, channeling white light into her left hand and pink light into her right. She struck first with her left hand, punching through hellfire and pumping holy light into the beast. The beast roared, and the flames extinguished, and a cloud of ash dispersed around them and dissolved into the air. 

Next came the pink light, funneling into the shark, more and more and more until a spire of radiance engulfed everything around them. Cass’ nose bled as she kept the shark locked in place, and she closed her eyes to keep from going blind. 

When the light faded, Cass opened her eyes, and the skeletal shark monster was gone. In its place was a fully-healed megalodon, floating in the air, scales and all. 

Cass floated up to Nicole. “Did you just raise a prehistoric shark from the dead?”

“No, it was already reanimated. I just purged the demonic influence from it and healed it. Whoo. Did it just get wicked cold? ‘Cause I feel…. ��� Nicole said, smiling but trailing off. She didn’t get to finish before she passed out and fell off her broom. 

Cass reached with her telekinesis and caught her before she could fall too far. She looked up at the flying megalodon, which simply turned around and flew away further and further into the sky. Cass breathed a sigh of relief. That was enough flying for one day. She brought herself and Nicole to the ground, where the others awaited them. 

Blood and injured civilians littered the street. Animal control officers wrangled the landsharks in elaborate nets, and Amy and the others spoke with the cops, glaring at them with contempt while trying to remain calm. 

Past the crowd, Cass saw three cars approaching: one was a van, red, with a blue stag logo for Hanazawa Beer on the side. It pulled up outside the sectioned-off crime scene, and out of it spilled Heather’s family: Mr. and Mrs. Keith and Reiko Hanazawa, a flannel-clad middle-aged couple, Keith with long white hair worn in ponytail and Regina with long, black bob, came first. Next came their two sons and two additional daughters: Jack, age twenty-five with his severe crew cut and broken nose and business suit; Shiro, age twenty-three, with his mophead hair and flannel that matched his parents; Ritsuko, age seventeen, long-haired with heavy bangs and clad in a designer dress; and Naomi, age fourteen, with her long, messy, unstyled hair and jeans and Fullmetal Alchemist��t-shirt.

Another car pulled up: Amy and Debbi’s family. Their father, a tall, lean white man in his early fifties named Patrick Donahue, wearing a thousand-dollar suit; their mother, a mid-sized, broad-shouldered black woman in her late forties named Victoria, her natural hair supporting a purple flower decoration, clad in a long black skirt and a cream-colored blouse; and their four sons, all dressed in gym clothes- Richard, age sixteen; Jason, age fifteen; Timothy, age fourteen; and Damian, age six. 

Another car, this time one Cass did not recognize. And for a tiny little sliver of eternity, she got her hopes up that maybe her mom had come, maybe she’d seen on the news what was happening and drive up from Providence in a panic, that maybe she’d cared enough in the first place to surprise her daughter on Family Weekend.  

A white family of four stepped out of the car- must’ve been Nicole’s relations. A Mom, a Dad, a very excited and concerned teenaged sister, and a very sullen and confused teenaged brother. 

Cass waited, and she waited, and she waited, and it wasn’t until the cops had left and the scene had cleared that she finally said, “She’s really not coming.”

Amy pulled her into a hug, then helped her shoulder Nicole and brought them over to the rest of the families. For a second, Cass wanted to hesitate, wanted to turn away, wanted to run and crawl into a deep dark hole that only existed in the most twisted parts of her mind and sob her eyes out. But instead, she blinked the handful of tears out of her eyes; half-numb and half-grateful, she walked towards the welcoming crowd of her teammate’s families. 

Nicole’s little sister ran up to her. “Hiiii! I’m Monica! Were you the first magical girl?”

Still dazed, still supporting Nicole with her telekinesis, Cass nodded. 

“You’re friends with my sister?”

Cass’ mind buzzed with choking, cloying anxiety as she struggled for an answer. 

She didn’t need to find one. Nicole’s eyes opened, just a little, and she said, “Yeah. She is. This is Cass. She’s the best of us.”

Cass gulped. 

“That’s awesome! Can I be friends with you too? Nicole’s friends have always liked me,” the younger teenager said with a hint of a shit-eating grin. “And why wouldn’t they? I’m effortlessly charming.”

“And immensely humble,” Nicole smirked before fainting again.

Cass said, “Yeah, we can be friends. I can always use… More friends.”

They kept walking, until they reached the crowd of their families. The entire Donahue clan, Amy and Debbi included, swallowed Cass up in a hug. 

And finally, for the first time in what felt like a long while, Cass let herself smile as the tears streamed down her face.  

BUY THE EBOOK HERE!!!!

[nightmarefuele]

Cool. Not burning, but tepid, the texture of it balmy salve. Mother's tan arms enfold him. Into the white chest, rock and tough, all fibrous null, he sinks.

Mmmm, soft hum from a bellied-out breeze, nausea in his nostrils running down, too, slow everywhere. He's trying to vomit up his eyes. A toddler's hands pushing them out through his asophagus, or chest, or

he gags on the edge of the sting slip. Cool, not burning. Water, there, tugging him down, away— awake, maybe, Here. I am. Listen to his own gush and fight the pillowy ache where it's pulleying his throat into a beached geyser, a deer with all the entrails pinked out, antlers all necklaced and shaven.

Paul thinks of thanking it. Tooth of Shai-Hulud. Under the blunt thumb, he quickens.

Something makes him watch. Dances him just far enough out, born-again through his sun-yellow'd asophagus, rippling, all newborn gel. He's staring down at twin ripples in a palm, watching his life go.

“Take it,” he whispers, half through his nose. Another drop goes stringing. “Don't want . . .” it.

The hook skins his mouth across. He's flexing like a spasm given body, knees tight on unsolid ground, a choke ripping out his throat. Soft, boy-soft, the sound. Bones wire down in spoke shapes from flat wet to ribbed roof, he's eating all of metal Giedi alive. Paul takes it inside him like the rain. Black behind his eyes with the stars in his face— burning, not cold, something hairless and crushed-velvet tickles and he pythons, his palate peppers with acidic.

He gags a second time twice over, or once long, something comes up that's clear and milked with red. He bites down on black ink and empty. He goes to liquid, slumping, breaking like the twine on Gurney's baliset, old man. White catches him a second, sweaty time. This one he shivers. He knows who it is.

“Have it. . . .” I don't want it anymore.

‘ Shhh. ’

His mouth puckers around it, jumping shadow. A golden scarab on its back is what he sees squirming, all dancing legs. The knife goes here, tipping underneath the elytron, to peel the plum skin off in a wet layer. Slowly. That would be... below Mua-Deeb’s golden shoulder. Where his wings forgot to grow out.

Feyd-Rautha’s wolf hunger kicks his jaw square. Its leather whisper skates Atreides’ O-shaped what is it, bad so bad it’s good——he’s never seen so much of it, so shiny:

‘ You’re drippinnnng. ’

Isn’t that a sin here? May the worm forgive.

Feyd-Rautha is scales-cool. He’s expanse and encased conservation, not a speck for the taking, not a hangnail to pull on if he doesn’t want one to be. Some come out better. Some...

he needs a better look at. The discs of his spine adjust.

He deserves to touch whatever Atreides is touching. Sweat-ing: down his pet nose and into Feyd-Rautha’s open palm before it dips.

Don’t worry.

Here. You are.

He fingers into Mua-Deeb’s oil-hot mouth, smearing raw spice over his gums in clots that can’t keep up. He slips himself deep on the body grease, past the tongue, pressing, pinning. Harder. So all of them gag in unison—Atreides Mua-Deeb the Mahdi, the would-be, whoever’s left. A cough squeezes him like the wet he likes. He watches it go down pink.

Better than water. He’ll say it. He’ll think it.

Tranced, Feyd sucks his fingers clean for just a shock of the real thing.

Now happen.

[kythed]

“teenage wasteland.” kuroo tetsurou x reader

4:08pm.

“yo,” kuroo says, opening the door quickly after you ring the bell, “you finally made it.” 

“what do you mean, finally?” you complain, kicking off your shoes and slipping inside. the dry heat of his family home’s living room assaults your bare face, a sharp contrast to the december frigidity outside. “you texted me like ten minutes ago.”

“felt like longer,” kuroo says with a crooked grin. “you want something to drink?” 

“water?”

“I kinda meant something stronger, but sure, water,” kuroo says, filling a glass at the kitchen sink. you furrow your brows.

“something stronger? I’m sorry, but last time I checked we were still underage,” you say, and kuroo laughs breathily — it’s almost a giggle, actually. for the first time since arriving, you notice an odd flush in his cheeks. “oh my god. are you drunk?”

“drunk?” kuroo gasps. “no, no. tipsy, yes. drunk, no.” 

“tetsurou,” you scold, reluctantly letting him pull you towards the hallway. “all those big, bad college boys can’t have been a very good influence on you.”

“I’ve had a stash of jack daniels hidden beneath my bed since sophomore year,” kuroo whispers conspiratorially. “those ‘big, bad college boys’ have nothing to do with it. speaking of which — you want some?” 

you shake your head vehemently and dig your heels into the carpet, realizing he’s trying to drag you into his bedroom. despite being kuroo tetsurou’s official best friend of a decade, you’ve never been inside his room before. you’ve never been inside any boy’s room before, actually — you’ve never been much of a rule breaker. 

(you suppose that’s why you and kuroo get along. you’re forever the straight-laced goody goody, and he’s forever the secretly bad, outwardly good honor roll kid.)

“I don’t drink,” you insist, and kuroo loops his arms around your neck. you stiffen. “and stop being so touchy. it’s freaking me out.”

“what?” kuroo says, feigning offense. “you don’t like my hugs?” 

“no!” you say, and he shoots you an exaggerated eye roll. “you’re being weird. I can probably count the number of times you’ve voluntarily hugged me on one hand.” 

kuroo ignores you, choosing to instead pick you up and toss you over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. 

“kuroo tetsurou, you’d better quit it before I call your mother!” you pound on his back, a little taken aback to feel his shoulder muscles rippling under your palms as he staunchly marches you into his room. “I do not want to enter your disgusting cave of a room, you teenage garbage troll!”

“getting real creative with the insults there,” kuroo laughs, setting you down and backing up against the door to block you from running out. “come onnnnn. I thought we could play a game of monopoly or something. listen to the radio. finish the bottle before my mom comes home and whips my hide.”

you sigh and perch your hands on your hips. “so that’s why you invited me over.”

“no, no,” kuroo protests, crouching to pull a clear bottle of amber colored liquid out from beneath his bed. “I also just vastly enjoy your company.”

“why not just throw it out?” you ask, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed. 

kuroo’s room is a lot neater than you imagined it would be — navy bedspread tightly tucked in at the corners, vinyl floor completely clear save for a small rug. his desk is probably the messiest part of the entire room, holding an old, chunky desktop that’s covered in post-its with smudged, scribbled notes, ranging from “email prof. miyazawa about missing grade” to “buy mom flowers to apologize for broken mug.” 

there are a couple posters on the wall, too, one for the japanese national volleyball team, and one for some punk-looking band dressed in an overabundance of leather, ripped denim, and hair feathers. 

“this shit was expensive,” kuroo says, gesturing to the bottle before screwing the cap off and taking a long draught. your eyes widen as he drinks down a quarter of the remaining liquid, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “I can’t let it go to waste.”

“I think you’ve probably had enough of that,” you say, gently twisting it from his hands. kuroo smiles angelically before coming to tower over you. 

“if you’re not gonna drink it, I will,” he says, reaching out to grasp the bottle’s neck. you hold onto it stubbornly.

“you’re clearly wasted, tetsu,” you say. “just let me throw it away.” 

“I may have a small drinking problem,” kuroo says, “but I’m sober enough to know I’m not about to throw away the fifty bucks I spent on that. give it.” 

“no!” 

“yes.”

“nooooo!”

“yes!” 

kuroo tries to wrench the bottle from you, and you spend a solid thirty seconds wiggling in his grasp before finally pulling it away. in an impulsive attempt to keep kuroo from getting even drunker, you bring the rim of the bottle to your lips and chug the rest of the whiskey.

kuroo’s eyes widen, and he guffaws loudly. “that was a lot of alcohol just now.”

you nod, wincing at the acrid taste, unwilling to swallow — the liquid is still swishing in your cheeks. you move to go spit it out in kuroo’s sink, but he grabs your arm.

“do not spit that out,” he warns. “that’s over two hours’ worth of minimum wage salary. I don’t work twenty hours a week in the wendy’s drive-thru just for you to flush it down the drain.” 

“mmmm,” you protest, breathing through your nose. “hrghhhh mmm mm mhm.”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say,” kuroo says, obviously trying to stifle his laughter. 

you gesture wildly to your face, and then to the empty bottle, and then back to your face. 

for a moment, kuroo wrinkles his nose, and then slowly smoothes out his expression. a small smile stretches across his lips, and he steps close to you. you’re acutely aware of your personal bubble being popped, as well of the fact that he smells strongly of old spice and mango body wash. 

“I’ll do it then.”

“mm?” you squeak in confusion when he takes your chin in one hand and guides your face close to his. you’re not sure if you’re smelling the alcohol on his breath or tasting it on our own tongue. you’ve never been this physically close to your best friend in your life, and you can firmly say you’re absolutely petrified. you shake your head vehemently as he slowly leans down, tilting his head. 

“calm down,” he says quietly, and in spite of yourself, you do. “I’m just taking a drink.” 

then he presses his mouth to yours, and you freeze. oh, shit. 

kuroo wedges his tongue between your lips, forcing them open, and then he sucks the whiskey from your mouth, one hand keeping your jaw open while the other snakes around your waist. your eyes widen just as his close, almost as if he’s enjoying the kiss. slowly, you close yours too, letting yourself melt into him as he keeps kissing you even after swallowing the liquid. 

it lasts for a good ten seconds before you reluctantly pull away, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. he’s smiling, evidently very pleased with himself. 

“what the hell was that?” you say breathlessly, searching his face. 

“I was thirsty,” kuroo says nonchalantly. “and a little drunk. and you’re very pretty, as far as best friends go.” 

you feel like you should be offended, yet you can’t quite bring yourself to be. you’re definitely flustered, though, and a little embarrassed. (okay, a lot embarrassed.)

“I think, um, I think I should go,” you say, breaking eye contact. kuroo raises a hand to stop you, but you brush him off, bounding out of the room to grab your bag and keys from the kitchen counter. “we can talk about this later, okay? you need to go take a nap or something.”

“no, hey, wait —”

but you’re already out the door and in the car, jamming the key into ignition. you just kissed your best friend. or did you? does that count as a kiss? or was that just kuroo being stupid? your mind spins with useless speculations on the drive home, and as you sprawl out on your bed for an hour afterwards. it’s not until later that evening that you check your phone, greeted by a handful of social media notifications… and a text from kuroo.

with shaking hands, you swipe it open, face immediately splitting into a grin.

kuroo: sorry about that

kuroo: ok, not really

kuroo: I’m not that sorry

kuroo: cuz you’re a good kisser

kuroo: a really good kisser

you: you too

you wait for a moment as the three little dots on kuroo’s side pop up.

kuroo: thanks

kuroo: I was still kind of stupid tho

kuroo: my b

you: you regret it?

your fingers shake in suspense as you await his answer, feeling all the world like a lovestruck fifteen year old. you’re a little disgusted to find yourself suddenly crushing on kuroo tetsurou of all people, but what can you say? maybe falling for your best friend is a little cliche. maybe it’s a little overdone. maybe the fact that you kissed him with a mouthful of whiskey belongs in a cheesy teen movie, but you can’t help but find yourself delighted that it happened. 

kuroo: nope. not at all.

kuroo: not at all.

[parkerlyn]

Maaaybe "kissing the other’s brow" with the Healer? ✨

💙👁👁💙 MINORS DNI and thank you for the asks! ❤️

Kissing the other's brow | playing with the other's fingers | picking up hugs/hugging while straddling their partner

The Healer's tattoos always draw you in first, providing easy to follow paths over their skin and guiding you - over their collar, down their back, over their sides and to their stomach - the markings and your hands led across the firmer parts of their body and dipping down dangerously close before rising over their thighs.

The ones around their fingers capture your attention tonight, as they busy themself between shelves and tables trying to organize for the next day. There's a tranquil darkness in their home, the hearth flickering beneath warmly lit crystals spread around the living room, reflecting yellows and oranges on the glass vials lined along the walls and into the shadows on the hanging herbs. Chamomile takes precedence over any other earthy smells in the air, the warm cup of tea in your hands spreading heat into your fingers and palms.

You're taking a sip near the end of the drink when a sigh floats over from the corner.

"Can you do me a favor?" The Healer asks tentatively, looking over their shoulder as the light casts a sunset over their skin. “Can you bring me over that bottle with the clear liquid and the oval looking leaves with reddish stones? It’s the- yeah, that one. Should have a trace of elemental around it.”

The energy echoes expectantly as you set your cup down against the wood and lift yourself from the table with bottle in hand. Smooth rocks clink quietly to the side of the glass with each of your steps, and you maneuver your way around the chairs and benches towards the Healer. They give a grateful smile in response to you holding your hand to them, taking the bottle and setting it against another group. A piece of cloth comes next to swaddle the lot, followed by their deft hands winding a strand of twine around the collection before setting it down on the table meant for tomorrow’s deliveries.

Shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, hands planting on their hips as they survey what they have left to do. With the absence of the warm tea in your hands, your own fingers seek theirs.

“You work too hard,” you murmur, letting your fore and middle fingers brush over their knuckles.

“Maybe,” they tease back, turning their body and gently placing their palm downward for you to hold in your own.

“For all the grief you give the Magesmith-“

“Alright, I mean-“ they say with a slightly louder pitch, a laugh and disbelief raising their brow. “I sometimes go to bed late. They just pass out on the floor at Sanctin knows when.”

“Mmmm…Slippery slope, etcetera -“

They chuckle again, distracted by your movements now. Their skin grows warm against yours, your other fingers carefully and deliberately tracing each tendon down the back of their hand, only to fall back to each joint, circling around the calluses and thin black tattoos that grace their fingers.

“Suppose I could take a break,” they whisper, your shadow darkening their chest while they move closer, gently lifting their hand from yours. Fingertips rest in the hollow of your collar as if to memorize its curve, before following the line of your neck to the back of your jaw.

“Suppose you could,” you respond, your hands already searching for the paths they know. The base of your palms smooth over the exposed skin by the black bands of cloth, curling with the lines over their shoulders and diving behind them to grasp for their shoulder blades.

When your hands disappear behind the horizon of their body, they move to meet you.

Soft lips to the side of your mouth, letting your head tilt to rest your cheek in their cupped hand. Their other arm snakes around your waist to pull you tighter, your elbows adjusting and angling down around their biceps, fingers still searching for the familiar markings. Their lips lay a trail back along your face, step by step, undemanding and unhurried. And when they reach their destination, the barest skim of teeth greets your ear, their fingers tensing against your opposite check.

There’s a blur when they let the arm holding your face drop, and suddenly your feet are in the air with a mildly undignified yelp, the strength of their arms squeezing around your lower back and their own face buried into the crook of your neck. They hold you there but eventually lean backward as you lift yourself with your hands pressed firmly into their shoulders.

Barely any strain is shown from the embrace as they smile, mischief clear even in the tender angles. The silence is comfortable, warm like the light in the room that seeps into the wooden walls and nestles into the corners. Heated like the fire of the hearth, a similar fever pouring down into your stomach and trailing lower into your hips. You place your forearms along their collar to lower yourself, giving your lips a chance to follow another path. Starting at their forehead, trailing passed their brow, moving to kiss along the thin markings outlining their golden eyes.

Arms shiver around your waist and you feel your body begin to slide down against theirs, friction infuriating and desire boiling.

Not one to be beaten by gravity, the Healer lets you find your footing for only a second, before their hands are wrapped over and around your legs and you feel yourself lifted again. But this time you’re able to help, legs straddling around their waist and feet hooking behind them, heels digging in tightly.

The room spins and the wall greets your back. But any pain from the impact is dulled by the sensation of their lips moving on yours, searching and aching, a soft moan growing in their throat. Their hands dig into the skin at the back of your thighs, using the leverage behind you to press into you further, but never close enough to satisfy. Somewhere else your hands explore behind their neck, over the shaved portion of their hair, rising to tangle in black strands quickly coming undone.

Eventually, unfortunately, they part but still keep you pinned to the wall, chests and lungs rising to meet each other as you both regain your breath. The same sordid smile is still present on their now swollen lips, half-lidded eyes observing your barely parted mouth before sweeping up to lock with your gaze.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind working for you a little while longer.”

[jayaury]

Berry Big Bimbo

A quick short story about a blueberry plant girl having some fun with a poor soul who wandered into her berry patch.

~ ~ ~

The cardinal rule of the Wire Woods was never trust a shortcut.

If Miles ever got out, he’d never disobey it again.

He shivered again as a wind swept through the forest, bringing with it the first chill of coming night. He glanced again at the sky, where a once blue horizon burned with evening’s reds and golds, peeking through the thick branches and leafy boughs. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He again shouldered his pack, putting on another spurt of speed. Day was bad enough in the Wire Woods, but night brought out the absolute worst. No one went near the forests after dark. Not unless they wanted to become the pet of some demon spawn residing within. Miles had no intention of sharing that fate. He just had to keep following the path. All paths lead somewhere!

He just hoped it wasn’t to the lair of a succubus.

Miles was looking up at the sky so often to check how long he had, that he didn’t notice the clearing until he was right in it.

He staggered to a stop, and not just because of the thick brambles that grew from the center of the clearing like a dark dome, but also because before him were a dozen paths spreading out of the clearing, spaced apart like the spokes of a wheel.

“Oh shit,” he groaned.

“Hm?”

Miles jumped, whirling about. “Who said that?” he demanded.

“Me of course!”

Miles turned with creeping horror towards the brambles in the center of the clearing. They were being parted by a pair of hands of a blue so deep it was almost purple. Skin of a similar hue came into view as the brush was pushed away, revealing a woman of jaw-dropping proportions, not the least of which was the fact her hips ended in a network of roots. She rested among the thorny bushes as if never even noticing their spikes, her breasts so large Miles wondered if she could even get up. Her hair spilled in richest green leaves, half covering her face, her lips a shade of purple they were nearly black, and so big and soft they made Miles blush just to see them.

He felt himself relax, but only just. Not a true demon. Merely a tainted. A melon or a berry girl. Weaker spawn of the demon’s taint. Though, he knew as well that the corrupted had threats all their own.

“Oh!” the plant woman cried, clapping her hands delightedly. “What a cutie came by to say hello. Hi! My name’s Tartiana. What’s yours?”

Miles felt himself blush a little when she said that, for her ample bosom tended to wobble distractingly whenever she spoke. “Um, Miles.”

“Miles!” she said, her tongue moving over her soft lips as if tasting the name. “Mmm. What a cute name. Perfect for such a cute boy.”

“Uh, thanks,” Miles said uneasily. He felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. He hadn’t been called cute since he’d turned twenty last year. He glanced nervously about the clearing. “Are you alone?”

“Yup! Just me. Which is why I’m just so happy I got a visitor! It’s been soooo long,” she cooed, and Miles couldn’t help but notice how she fondled her immense, firm breasts. Like two great blueberries swelling on her chest.

“Yeah, I imagine.”

“Of course! Nobody comes out to the Wire Woods. And so late! I get so lonely,” she said, fluttering her soft lashes at him.

Miles felt his blush return, but wasn’t too worried. Such a bimbo wasn’t really a threat. He could outthink her, if it came to that. “If you’ve been here for a long time, does that mean you know where these paths go?”

“Sure!” Tartiana giggled. “I know these woods like the back of my breasts!”

Again Miles’s eyes were pulled to those wobbling orbs before he managed to wrest them back to her face. “Oh, um, great! Does that mean you know which way leaves the forest?”

“Totes!” Tartiana giggled and pointed to one of the paths. “It’s that way.”

Miles fairly sagged in relief. “Great! Thank you,” he said, turning down the indicated trail.

“Or, um, maybe it was that one?”

Miles paused as she pointed at the path in the complete opposite direction. “But…”

“Or um… oh gosh. It might even be that one,” she said, pointing in a third, completely opposite direction.

Miles glanced again at the sky darkening through the boughs. “Look, do you know the way out or not?” he said.

“Um, oh gosh. I’m sorry,” Tartiana groaned, fondling her bouncing breasts. “It’s just um… I always have trouble concentrating when my big, bouncy berry tits get all stuffed with juice.”

“They… um…”

Miles trailed off, his jaw slowly dropping as he spotted a bead of blue liquid drip from Tartiana’s puffy nipple.

“Oh gosh yes. I grow soooo much juice, you know,” Tartiana moaned, continuing to bounce her plump tits, squeezing them between her arms. “And no one comes down the paths ever! I can never find a nice boy to help me squeeze my sweet, berry juice out.”

“O-oh,” was all Miles could say, his head slowly nodding with the bouncing of those massive, blue breasts.

“But I always think so much clearer when they’re all drained out. All squeezed out. Like it squeezes out all my thoughts. All my confusion.”

“Th-thoughts?”

“Oh gosh yes! Not that I ever have many,” she giggled. “All I’ve got to think about is how full my tits are. How bouncy. How a handsome boy would just love to watch and touch them. Stroke and kiss them.”

Miles couldn’t look away. What was more, he was becoming aware of a far from subtle pressure in his pants. He cleared his throat, trying to shake himself from his stare. “W-well, if it would help you think, I guess I could… maybe…”

“Would you?” Tartiana gasped, her large eyes shining. She shifted in her bed of brambles, her large breasts bouncing. “Oh thank you, thank you! I knew you were a good boy the moment I saw you!”

Miles again felt a flush at those words, but decided not to challenge them. What business was it of his if she called him a good boy? So long as she gave him directions, she could call him the Baron of Gula. Besides, so long as he kept his head about him, he’d be fine. She was far too dumb to trick him.

Still, he approached warily. One could never be too careful in the Wire Woods, after all. As he came closer, the sweet scent of blueberries surrounded him like a haze. The strength of it stunned him, but on he went, making his way carefully over to Tartiana, ready to bolt like a startled rabbit at the first sign of treachery.

Tartiana merely waited, smiling, her big, ample breasts pressed out on proud display, her arms crossed beneath them, lifting them. Miles reached for them, only to hesitate. Something… something about this seemed… seemed wrong.

“What’s the matter?” Tartiana asked in a singsong voice.

“Um, nothing.”

“You’re not scared of my big breasts are you?”

“O-of course not!”

“Aw, it’s okay if you are. A little, maybe. They’re so awfully big, aren’t they? So big and firm. I mean, look at them!”

She bounced them in her arms. Miles’s eyes followed. Gods. They were so firm. He likened them to blueberries at their ripest season, her nipples nearly black. He swallowed thickly.

“I…”

“Aren’t they the best?”

“Uh… uh huh…”

“They’re just so big!”

“Yeah…”

“So bouncy!”

“Mmm…”

“So big and squishy and such silly bimbo tits!”

Miles swallowed again. He felt oddly thirsty. His hands hesitated.

“I’ve got a big pair of bimbo tits, don’t I?”

“Well, um…”

“It’s okay! Like I said, they make it sooooo hard to think sometimes. Why, when they’re full like this, it can be so hard to concentrate on anything else but how big and wonderful and full they are. And my juice is just so sweet. So tender. It just melts a silly mind to nothing!”

Miles swayed a little. “Um…”

“C’mon, baby,” Tartiana crooned, leaning up, pushing her big breasts closer so he could see the taut smoothness of those orbs. “Give my big bimbo tits a good milking.”

She was so close, his merest twitch brushed a finger against her breast. Tartiana gasped, moaning, her breasts bouncing at her sudden intake of breath. But the motion didn’t dislodge Miles. His fingers remained, as if glued to her ample bust.

And slowly, he leaned forward, engulfing her breast with his palms, marvelling at how huge she was. How heavy. How firm and big her breasts were. How they twitched with her delighted whimper, filling his hands as he hefted them.

“Mmmm! Oh, that’s it. Really fill up your hands with my bimbo berry boobies! Aren’t they so big and firm?”

“Yeah,” Miles breathed, fondling her ample tits. Pressing them together. Watching them squish and bounce in his hands.

“Ooooh, yes. Oh baby, just like that. Massage my big breasts. Good boys love big breasts. Good boys love milking pretty berry girls. You’re being such a good boy. Ooooh, but… ah… but it needs… needs a little something… something more. Gotta milk my big dumb breasts. My big, dumb, bimbo tits. Oh baby, I need your help. A little more. A little something more…”

Miles wondered what that could be. But then her arms were around his head. Were easing him forward towards a dark nipple dribbling her sweet juices. His mouth was so dry. So thirsty. He didn’t think. Instinct guided his lips to that nub.

And had him suck.

And suck.

And suck, like a good bimbo boy.

Sweet wine drowned his mouth and what remained of his resistance. He moaned, flushing hot as Tartiana’s milk splashed into his mouth. Onto his tongue. He drank it down. Drank it like a man possessed, his head spinning. His body warming.

“Mmm. That’s it. Ohhhh, what a good boy admiring my big, dumb breasts. Oops! But you’re getting it all over your clothes! We can’t have them stain. We gotta fix that, don’t we?”

They did. Had to… had to… He stopped trying to think. It was so hard anyway. And drinking was so easy. Burying his face in her big bosom as he pressed her tits together, moaning and whimpering, his mind lost in a drunken haze of lust and the bounce of her tits, he struggled out of his clothes, shrugging them off with her help. He was naked. Naked was good. So good.

“Mmmm,” Tartiana moaned. “Such a good boy. A good boy who loves my dumb breasts. And you know why he does?”

“Mmmnoooo,” Miles fairly drooled.

“Silly!” Tartiana giggled, booping his nose. “It’s because he’s a silly, dumb bimbo too! But oh gosh! Look how late it is! It’s all dark, and we can’t have such a silly boy wandering around the Wire Woods! All sorts of nasty demons would just love to play with you. Don’t you worry, though. Momma Tartiana’s gonna take good care of you.”

Some sense of uncertainty trickled through his mind. Miles lifted lips stained purple from her nipple. “But… um… I…”

“Don’t worry,” Tartiana giggled, guiding his head back down to her breast. “You can go anytime you want! Just as soon as it’s light out again. How’s that sound?”

Light out. Yes. Right. Light. He could wait for light. Miles smiled dreamily as he resumed sucking. Resumed sinking into the berry girl’s big, blue tits. Resumed being a good bimbo boy for his new, berry beautiful mistress. His cock sinking into the pleasured tightness of her pussy. His whimpers swallowed by her moans, his thoughts steeped in her bouncing breasts. He could do this. He could wait in her breasts for light.

And the brambles knit above their heads, steeping them in a pillowy darkness that would never end...

[putas-in-suffering]

This ask was accidentally deleted but the prompts were for EZ with “I know you can be louder than that” and “do you like that? Like being in control?”

Thank you to whoever sent it in! 💗

“Oh come on, baby...I know you can be louder than that.” You purred from your spot at the end of the bed.

Your eyes dared EZ to disobey you as he sat propped against the headboard, body naked and already perspiring. His cock was hard and swollen in his own hand as he jerked himself off to your instructions. On a normal day your husband was a panty dropper. But caught in the wild waves of passion as he fought to restrain himself? He was dangerous. Downright criminal.

He furrowed his brow in response to your taunting as his jaw clenched, his hands struggling to keep the pace you’d set for him. You watched on in delight as you began to cup your now bare breasts, teasing.

“Let me hear you, baby...” You breathily demanded, a delicate finger trailing down your body and to the throbbing apex between your thighs.

His body shifted as he stared, his fist tightening around his own flesh as an almost imperceptible groan left his pouted lips.

You released your own strangled moan once your finger met the slickness that coated you. You could feel your body begging for more, yearning for EZ’s hungry touch. You bit your lip when you noticed the clear drops of liquid at the head of his cock. You salivated at the thought of tasting him.

It would have to wait. You were far too impatient to indulge your craving.

Instead, you climbed onto the bed and began to crawl towards him, all while he still touched himself. His eyes burned across your skin as your fingers danced up his calves, the muscles twitching. You bent forward, letting your mouth hover dangerously close to his rigid length before pulling back at the last second, making EZ release a disgruntled growl.

“Quite teasing.” He begged, hips angling upwards so that his naked body could graze yours.

You laughed at his impatience, settling over his thighs and licking your palm. You made a show of it as you replaced his hands with your own, the flesh now wet and hot.

“I like you like this though.” You murmured against his lips, a faux pout decorating yours.

“You like that? Like being in control?” He asked, hands gripping your ass as he rocked his hips into your hands. His eyes grew dark as he bit his bottom lip, his nose brushing yours.

“Mmmm...” You hummed in response as his eyes fell closed, his breaths coming out fast as your rhythm increased. You peppered kisses along the sharp lines of his jaw, his facial hair tickling you. His hold tightened as you massaged his sac and sent him further into ecstasy’s awaiting arms.

You let his cock slid against your slit, the added sensations enough to make your inner walls contract. EZ grunted as he tilted his head back, a strained curse hitting your ears as he began to let go. A rush of warmth filled your hands as droplets landed on your stomach and thighs. You continued to jerk him off as he came, his body spasming beneath you. You watched it all in rapt fascination.

Minutes passed before his breathing slowed and his eyes finally cleared. He chuckled, that one that said you were in trouble. Heat pooled within you as you licked your fingers clean. He hissed as his cock began to come alive again, emboldened by your actions.

“You gonna let me have you now?”

You shivered at the low baritone of his voice. His touch began to travel your body, leaving no stretch of skin untouched.

“Whatever you want.” You dutifully replied, arching your back as he began to mouth at your nipples.

Again, he laughed. Low and slow and menacing as he made eye contact with you.

“That’s right, baby girl.”

[fandom-strumpet]

Game Night Confession Part 3

Summary: You and Kai are ready to take your relationship a step further. Turning over a new leaf comes with some consequences though and trouble strikes the town.

Word Count: 3,364 (Its a long one folks)

Warnings: Swearing, temporary character deaths, angst, basic TVD violence

You and Kai had been dating for a few months now and you were ready to ask him the question. You both were close enough now in your relationship anyway with the apartment so there were no more noise complaints from Elena or the Salvatores. Not that they had much room to judge. Kai was in the kitchen making breakfast and he greeted you over his shoulder when you made the floorboards creak in the hallway.

"Morning baby girl, I made breakfast. Figured I'd surprise you and let you sleep in."

"Awww thanks, it smells delicious," you gave him a hug from behind and snatched a piece of bacon off the plate. "Mmmm," you moaned, bacon was truly a gift from heaven.

Kai looked over at you and grinned, "I'm glad you like it."

Kai absolutely loved making you happy. Knowing this gave you confidence in asking him for things and having heavy conversations. You loved him more than anything and he, you.

"Kai?" he raised his eyebrows, encouraging you to continue your question.

"Will you turn me?"

"You know I already love turning you, but maybe not with pancakes on the stove," he winked playfully.

"That's not what I meant," you giggled and ran your hand up his arm onto his bare chest, "Will you turn me?"

Kai froze, the pancake sizzling after just being turned over.

"Pleeeeease," you stuck your lip out, batting your puppy eyes at him.

He stood for a moment, his lips pursed. "Yes."

"EEEEK!" You squealed.

"But-"

You stopped squealing, you knew there would be something he demanded in return and you were ready to give him whatever he wanted.

"I want to surprise you when I kill you. I'll give you my blood but I won't tell you when or where, it'll be fun. I promise it won't be anything too painful. It will be quick." You felt nervous for a second but pure euphoria overtook the feeling in a heartbeat as you realized just how close you were to spending eternity with the love of your life.

"So for almost 24 hours you're going to let me live with the anxiety and suspense of dying unexpectedly?"

"Yep," he tilted his head studying your reaction to his proposal.

"Alright." you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Mmmmmmm" he hummed against your lips, breaking the kiss with a smile, "Is my baby ready for breakfast?"

You bit your lip trying to contain the joy screaming through your veins, "Yes! And thank you babe, for breakfast and for saying yes."

"Anything for my baby girl," he winked and set the plates of food down on the table. You blushed, hearing him call you baby girl always sent butterflies into your stomach. The nickname would never get old and you absolutely loved it. There was an excellent mood in the atmosphere as you both finished off breakfast. He cut his hand open and squeezed blood into a glass cup for you. The fluid looked so beautiful in the sunlight ad you grabbed the cup slowly, taking in what was about to happen. Raising the glass to your lips you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the iron flavored drink enter your body. Kai admired how fragile and beautiful you looked sitting there drinking his blood. It was weirdly attractive to see you like this. Standing up you head over to the bedroom doorway and look back with a devious smile.

"I'm going to shower, care to join?"

"Love to." Kai grinned back with lustful eyes.

--------Later at Lunch--------

"Y/N you can't be serious! This is not a life you want." Elena harshly whispered in the restaurant.

"I think it would be interesting to see you as a vampire," Damon said cooly but changed his tone and sat up when Elena shot him a glare, "Elena has a point though." He pulled her closer with his arm around her shoulder as a make-shift apology.

"Come on Damon, weren't you the least bit excited when Elena became a vampire so you could spend eternity together?" The couple looked at each other but remained silent.

"I think it's a good idea and I support you," Caroline stated. Elena's jaw dropped upon hearing Caroline of all people support you on this decision.

"Thank you Care! Thank you!" you leaned over and wrapped your arms around her in a hug. Caroline rested her chin on your head, "But Y/N?"

You looked up as she continued, "Just be careful okay?"

"I am, I know what I'm doing. Now all of you know not to be surprised if Kai kills me while I'm with you."

"Whatever." Elena mumbled and shook her head sliding out of the booth. Damon followed her lead but gave you a quick thumbs up and wink before disappearing. You were so excited, nobody could or should ever feel this way about being killed but to you it meant something different. Dear god, am I a psychopath for wanting this?

Stepping out of the grill, an arm wrapped around your throat and pulled you back. Instinct kicking in, your hands flew to grip the arm. You recognized the fabric and felt relief knowing what would soon be happening. Caroline looked on with a look of concern and possibly disgust on her face. With one swift movement his hand was on the side of your head and the world went black.

You woke up on the sofa in your apartment. Your head pounded, your lips felt cracked and your throat hurt like you hadn't drank anything in days.

"Good Morning sunshine," Kai grinned hopping off the barstool. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple blood bags. "Here, drink up. You need it."

You fumbled and opened the blood bag as swiftly as you could. You could feel the black veins on your face appear. Downing the first bag in a minute you ripped open the second one and wolfed it down as well. You gave a sigh of relief as the headache and pain faded away. You must have been out for a couple hours, based on the amount of sunlight making its way in. It was almost sunset.

"Better?"

"Much." You smiled, everything felt so much more heightened. Tears started to fall down your face, "Oh Kai..."

Kai's face scrunched up in concern, "What is it baby girl?"

"I love you so much," you sobbed.

Relief crossed his face as he understood what was happening. "Your emotions are heightened right now with the change but soon you'll have them under control."

You nodded and leaned forward to hug Kai's waist who was now standing over you. His arms wrapped around you and he rubbed your back which he knew always helped calm you down. His hand traveled to your chin to tilt it up so you were looking at him.

"Baby?" he wiped the last tear off your cheek/

"Yes?" you whimpered.

"How about we go out and celebrate tonight?" your brows furrowed at his proposal. Kai noticing your look continued, "I don't mean let's go and feed off people, I mean let's celebrate and go out to eat." He tilted his head waiting for your reaction.

You stood and wrapped your arms around his neck, "Yes! Yes I would love that!"

"Good," Kai smacked your butt, "Now go get ready princess."

Kai watched you skip off to the bedroom and smiled, his heart soaring at being able to spend forever with you.

-----------Later that Night-------------

You were so angry, you could hear the bartender's heart pounding and her blood, delicious blood coursing through her veins as she continued to beam at Kai. You glared and cleared your throat, catching the blonde's attention. Upon catching your look she huffed and turned away to check on another attractive brunet down the row. Kai turned and studied your face bemusedly.

"What?" you tried to shake off the look but it was too late.

"Are you- jealous?" he smirked.

"Ugh, I- I am not jealous. I just need some air."

Kai cocked an eyebrow, "O-kay."

Stepping into the alleyway you took a big swallow of the cool night air. It was only 8 but it already felt so late. You started to pace, taking your frustration out on the trash.

"I am not jealous, especially of some stupid blonde," you grunted and kicked a bottle hard sending it smashing against a brick wall. The back door of the bar opened and you jumped, expecting someone to come out yelling about the racket. Instead the blonde bartender stepped out a little too coolly, moving almost mechanically.

"What are you doing here?" you snapped.

"I don't know. This guy told me to come out here and for some reason I listened." She looked puzzled and your curiosity started to grow.

"Was it the guy I was with?"

"No. It was some other guy."

"What else did this guy say?" You inquired, allowing yourself to walk closer and closer to her.

"He told me not to scream." The girls voice trembled with this sentence.

Dear god. She had the most beautiful throat, you don't know how you missed it before. If only you could have a taste. No. You promised Caroline to be careful, you were a new vampire with limited restraint. You wanted to kill her. With every fiber of your being you wanted to drink her body dry. Almost as if she were reading your mind she tilted her head, moving her hair and exposing her neck more. Slowly she took a knife out of her apron and brought it to her throat.

"No! Don-"

But your plea was cut short when you saw the bright red liquid start to dribble down. You could feel your eyes change and teeth pop out. With a hiss you lunged toward her, sinking your fangs into her warm beating flesh. After drinking for so long, you entered an almost drunk like state. Stumbling back to your apartment, you manage to shower and clean yourself up, tossing the dirty clothes in the trash before finally passing out in bed.

Meanwhile back in the alleyway, Kai storms out looking for you.

"Y/N?" He stops walking when his shoes squelch. "Oh shit..." He looks down to see the dead blonde bartender from earlier, blood surrounding her neck which looked like it had been sloppily torn open. Black veins appear under his eyes and he looks up fast, taking a sharp breath in. After gaining control of himself, he covers his mouth and nose with his shirt diving in to clean up the mess you made.

"They're going to freak when they hear about this," he muttered, dragging the girl backwards down the alleyway.

You woke up with sunlight streaming onto your face making you groan and pull the sheets up.

"Good morning sleepy head." A husky voice drawled.

You froze, afraid to look at the guest in your home. "What are you doing here?" You asked, blanket muffling your question.

"Heard you had a wild one last night, just wanted to stop by and uhh ya know, check on my buddy."

Smiling painfully you pulled the blanket down to see Damon sitting on a chair across your room.

"I don't know what you mean."

Damon's fake smile disappeared and he frowned.

"Kai called last night after you 'stepped out for air' and he found a dead blonde in the alleyway."

You stifled a groan and he continued, "But that wasn't all, nooooo you had to go and continue the party of one around town."

"What?" Your nose wrinkled. You remembered drinking from the bartender and coming home, not going around town. "I did not do that Damon, you have to believe me."

"I don't." He snapped, "I believe your bloody clothes you half ass attempted to shove down the garbage disposal." He shook his head in disbelief.

You groaned and plopped your head back down onto the pillow.

"Alright, I drank blood from the blonde but I didn't hurt anyone else, I swear! I came right home and tried to clean up."

"You killed her, Y/N. There are three other dead people around town and you don't think that looks a little suspicious considering the circumstances?"

You paused, a look of grief sat on your face. The bedroom door opened and Stefan peered in, Kai leaning over his shoulder,

"Knock knock." Stefan called.

"Just go in Steven. Geez." Kai said exasperated, making you chuckle.

Damon's stern face cut your laugh short.

Stefan stepped in and turned to glare at Kai, "I don't know what Kai was thinking taking you out when you've just turned and still need to learn to control your bloodlust."

"I didn't kill all those people, you know." You cut in gravely.

Just then it dawned on you, the girl. You sat up quickly and grabbed your head in pain. It was like having a hangover with booze and blood. Ugh.

"Guys the bartender last night, she was acting weird."

"Yeah because death by vampire is a little weird." Damon rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm serious. The way she came out into the alleyway. Someone compelled her to come out, she said she wasn't allowed to scream and then she cut her own throat to get me to feed from her."

The Salvatore brothers stiffened and looked at each other.

"What? Do you two know something?" You looked between them frantically.

Stefan looked down and asked, "Did she say who compelled her?"

"Some guy in the bar but nothing else."

Damon ran his hand through his hair and blew out air, "I think we need to have a talk with someone."

Stefan nodded in agreement and in a flash, the Salvatore brothers had left your apartment. You looked pointedly at Kai who was now standing in the middle of your shared room. He shrugged his shoulder signaling to you that he had no idea what was going on. Huffing, you pushed yourself out of bed and walked past him to the kitchen. You needed a strong coffee for a day like this.

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

"ENZO!" Damon bellowed,

Stefan followed Damon into the boarding house, ready to acknowledge the guest who had been staying with them recently.

"Hello there." Enzo stepped out from the kitchen wiping his bloody hands.

Stefan raised his eyebrows at the sight and Damon cleared his throat.

"Oh- sorry about the mess I was just prepping dinner." He smiled innocently.

"Cut the crap Enzo." Damon snapped, Enzo's smile remained plastered on unnaturally.

"What's the matter, Damon? You look like you've had a very busy night."

Stefan stepped forward, "Come on, we know what you did. Stop stalling."

Throwing the towel down the vampire sped over to Stefan, "You know what I did huh?" He sneered.

"You lot have known how I feel about Y/N. Since the beginning and I thought by now you would have gotten rid of the Parker bastard. So what did you do mate?" He spit out.

Damon put his hand between Enzo's and Stefan's chests to calm them down. Enzo had been Damon's friend long ago and he was still willing to stick up for Enzo and give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Okay, but why frame Y/N for this?" Damon shook his head in question.

"If I can't have her, then Parker shouldn't either. She'll leave him when she realizes he can't help her. I'll just keep going until she breaks."

"We can't let you do this," Stefan started to grab Enzo's shirt when Enzo vampire sped behind him and snapped his neck.

"Now what? Are you going to try and stop me too?"

Damon bit his lip and grimaced at his words. Enzo had been in love with Y/N's doppelganger long ago. This fact that she was a doppelganger was unknown to her and the Salvatores had hoped to keep it that way. But with Enzo's new fury and determination to have her, things could be taking a turn for the worst. Without another word, Enzo stormed out of the house leaving a dead Stefan and a conflicted Damon. A few hours later Stefan woke up to find Damon sitting by the fireplace in his chair drinking his favorite bourbon.

"Augh" Stefan groaned, "Did you stop him?"

Damon remained stoic for a minute before responding, "No. I froze. He used to be my only friend." He swirled his drink looking down into it for answers.

"I get that he used to be your friend, I do. But we can't let him do this to Kai and Y/N. It's not fair. So you need to help me and our friends come up with a plan to stop him."

Damon furrowed his eyebrows and looked up, "Okay."

--------------At your apartment-----------

Enzo had been watching your apartment for a while now. Waiting for the man he so despised to leave and give you two time alone. At long last, Kai stepped out into the crisp night and headed off into the darkness. Waiting until he was clear out of sight, Enzo stepped out of his car adjusting his shirt and pulling the lively bouquet of flowers out.

"Ding dong," Enzo called out, knocking on your front door.

You creaked the door open slightly to see who it was, the door chain stopping you from opening it much further.

"Who are you?" You raised your eyebrow. Kai had told you not to let anyone in while he was out getting more blood bags.

"My name is Lorenzo St. John but you can call me Enzo." He smiled.

"Okay Enzo...And what brings you to my apartment?"

"Well darling, I thought it was time we were properly introduced. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Okay..." you said hesitantly. You closed the door to slide the latch over and opening it slowly, allowed Enzo to stride in like a gentleman.

"I brought you flowers," he held them out for you to grab.

You smiled at him with a curious look in your eyes, "Thanks. I'll go put these in a vase."

He followed you to the kitchen, looking around and taking in all that was your apartment. Digging around under the sink you finally found the curvy glass vase that you always wanted to use. Your anxiety started to build. Why is Kai taking so long? He should be back by now. Something about Enzo seemed off to you and you prayed that Kai would be home soon to help you deal with the charming stranger. You were itching to reach for you phone on the side table but knew that if Enzo suspected something was up then he might do something rash. Turning to face him you crossed your arms to find him seated comfortably at your table. A little too comfortably.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Do you have any blood bags, love?"

"No, sorry." You smiled weakly, "My boyfriend went out to get some more."

Enzo raised his eyebrows begrudgingly, of course you would mention your boyfriend. "I'll take a beer then."

"Sure thing." He rolled his eye as you turned to the fridge.

Speeding up behind you, he grabbed you around the throat and whispered, "Sorry about this, love." All went black.

When Kai arrived home he found the front door open. Panic rose in his chest as he yelled out for you.

"Y/N! Y/N?! Princess this isn't funny, where are you?"

Walking into the kitchen he found the fridge door wide open. He shoved the grocery bag full of blood bags in a shut it quickly. Speeding around, he checked the entire house but you were no where to be found. He ran his hands through his hair and that's when the vase caught his eye. A vase full of fresh flowers and a note attached.

For the most beautiful of all flowers and with much adoration,

Love, Enzo

Growling, Kai crumpled the note in his hand. He was going to rip this man to shreds when he found him. No one gets to take you from him. You were his and his alone.

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

@ellaoleck @rome5683 @sxturn-stars @1-800-khaleesii @imagine-that @genevivetaylor

[jobean12-blog]

Finders Keepers

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,344

Summary: Oreos, Bucky’s Henley and scary movies...

Author’s Note: This is for the continuation of the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the super fun prompt sent in below. It’s very hard for me to pass up red Henley beefy bucky prompts of any kind. Thank you for this one! I hope you like it! Thank you all for reading! Much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: Fluff, scary movie with CLOWNS!, flirting, teasing, sassy and sexy Bucky :)

You love being a part of the Avengers team. It had only been a short time since you joined but they accepted you like family. That’s how you found yourself currently sandwiched between the arm rest of the couch and Bucky during movie night. It was Steve’s brilliant idea to watch the remake of ‘It’ and although you told them a million times you were terrified of clowns, they insisted, team bonding and all that.

So now you’re curled into a ball with your head hidden under a pillow and Bucky’s warm body next to yours. A sudden streak of light invades your safe space as Bucky lifts the pillow and peeks his head under. “You ok in here, doll?” You crack open your eyes and focus on his bright blue ones. “Um. Yea. I think. Is the clown gone yet?”

Bucky looks out over the pillow, quickly sneaking back under. “No. He’s not.” You close your eyes again and just nod, hoping he drops the pillow soon. Instead you feel his strong arms wrap around you, turning your body into his and pulling you to his chest. Without looking up you snuggle against his soft tee shirt and take a deep breath, your fingers instinctively gripping the material.

His metal hand combs through your hair, gently twirling the strands around his fingers and you start to relax. At one point he taps your shoulder and you look at him. He smiles, motioning toward the TV and the scrolling end credits. You sit up with a bolt. “It’s over!?” you shout in glee. Bucky throws his head back in laughter and curls his finger under your chin, “yep, the clown is gone doll.”

His gaze drops to your lips before he clears his throat. “Want something to drink?” Not trusting yourself to speak you simply nod a yes, watching as he walks to the kitchen. He reaches the counter and grabs two glasses from the cabinet, filling them with cold water.

You find it hard to tear your eyes away from his body, the tight tee shirt doing nothing to hide his broad chest and bulging biceps. When he sits his shirt rides up and your eyes widen as you catch a glimpse of the soft patch of hair just above the waistband of his pants.

Grabbing the glass of water, you chug half of it hoping to cool yourself off. “Thirsty?” he asks with a chuckle. You almost choke on your drink, realizing that he probably knows you’ve been enjoying the view. “Yea, I didn’t drink anything the whole movie. Too scared to come out of hiding,” you say, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. “I really hate clowns.”

His metal arm rests on the back of the couch and his fingers brush yours as he asks, “any particular reason or just the obvious?” You try to focus on talking but your body is making it difficult, practically humming under his touch. “No childhood trauma or anything like that, just the fact that they are obviously terrifying!”

“I get it. If I had to pick, I’d rather fight an army of aliens!” You laugh, loving how his eyes crinkle around the corners at the sound. “A big, strong guy like you. I think you could take on some clowns.” You say the words while your eyes roam across his wide shoulders, smiling again once your gaze meets his. “So, you think I’m…”

“Hey Bucky. Have you seen my Oreos? I know you’re always stealing and eatin’ ‘em!” You look over Bucky’s shoulder to find a very pissed off Sam standing at the island in the kitchen. Bucky’s jaw clenches as he turns to look at Sam. “This time it wasn’t me. Check Parker’s room, last time I stole them he was eyein’ them too!” Sam stalks off in a huff, mumbling under his breath and Bucky laughs turning back to you.

He opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off again, this time by Peter’s screech as he flies into the common room, Oreos in hand. “HELP!” he shouts, sandwiching himself between you and Bucky. “What the hell Parker! What has your underoos twisted?” Not a second later, Sam walks in the room in a flurry of flying hands and curses. “If you don’t give me back my cookies…” he threatens Peter.

You discreetly reach out, snatching the Oreos from Peter’s hands and running for your life. You manage to make it to your door, opening and closing it so quickly you make wind. With a click you lock it, leaning against the wood. A loud knock vibrates through your head. “Y/n, if you don’t open this door and gimme back my cookies.”

With a snicker you press your face to the wood. “Nope. I’m gonna pour some milk right now and enjoy a few. You’ll get back what’s left later. You all need to learn to share!” You walk away from Sam’s loud knocks and shouts, putting on your music and getting the milk. After enjoying a few cookies, you turn down the music and listen at the door, hearing no sign of any of the boys.

Smiling to yourself you change into your pjs of a tank top and shorts and quietly open the door. Cookies in hand you creep down the hallway toward the kitchen. No one is around and you set the cookies back in Sam’s usual hiding spot, laughing to yourself at the fact none of them realize you knew where it was. You make some tea and go to sit on the couch.

Plopping your butt down you feel something balled up beneath it and quickly stand, picking up what looks to be a shirt. You unravel the material and smooth your hands over the soft red fabric. It’s huge so you’re guessing it must belong to one of the guys. Bringing it up to your nose you inhale, a familiar smell washing over you. You’re still not positive who it belongs to though, so you fold it nicely and set it down on the table.

Settling on the couch you drink your tea while watching some cooking shows, enjoying the quiet. Placing your empty teacup down you shiver, the hot liquid no longer warming your body. Your eyes land on the red Henley on the table and you shrug. Taking the shirt, you unfold it and slowly place it over your head. The soft material feels amazing against your bare arms. It nearly falls to your knees and you giggle, wrapping it closer to your body.

“I see you like to take things that don’t belong to you.” Your body stills at the sound of Bucky’s deep voice, his hot breath next to your ear. You snap your head around and come face to face with him, his lips curled up into a smirk. “I didn’t take it. I’m just…borrowing it.” He slowly walks around the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh yea. Usually you ask people before you borrow their stuff.”

Crossing your arms over your chest you huff, “well! I don’t know who it belongs to. I was cold. So.” Bucky inches closer, his tall frame towering over you. When his body brushes against yours you’re enveloped by the same smell from before. The same smell that’s on the shirt you’re wearing right now.

“This is your red Henley isn’t it.” It’s more of a statement than a question and when you look up at his face you know you’re in trouble. The best kind. “Mmmm hmmm.” His hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down your cheek. “You can keep it though.” Your face lights up but not before he continues with, “on one condition. Tell me how you figured out where Sam hides his cookies and let me take you out on a date. Whaddya say?” Standing up on your tippy toes you place a soft kiss to his cheek, whispering, “that’s two things. And the answer is yes to both.”

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @addikted-2-dopamine @azurika-writes @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-broody-muffin @devynsdiary @emilylyoness @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @breezy1415 @kaosera @yansi1923 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @scarletsoldierrr @softpeachbarnes​ @the-wayward-robot​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ 

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Whisky and Cheap Wine | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Smut

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Losing Virginity, Mentions of Drinking, Curse words? 

Time/Era: Modern AU, Both characters are of age

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Y/N and Edmund were high school sweethearts that broke up before going to university. When they run into each other at a mutual friends’ New Year’s Eve party, unfinished business and old feelings are brought to life.

Request: Please do a first-time fluffy smut where he’s super nervous but also very reassuring and sweet. Edmund would try to be so confident and snarky while secretly being a nervous mess.

A/N: Happy New Years! Ending the year with some smut hehe. Enjoy!

masterlist | read on ao3 | edmund playlist | narnia playlist

“So, erm, university going well?” Edmund spoke into his glass of whisky, scanning the room to avoid eye contact. His long, slender fingers grasped the fake crystal in such a way that it made the glass appear tiny. 

“Great,” Y/N responded, painfully aware of how her short skirt was hugging her ass. Edmund’s eyes followed the curve of her breasts down the slope of her hips against his better judgment. “Finished the semester with high marks. You?” 

Edmund choked, “Yeah, same. Just in visiting family for the holidays. You know how they are.” He peeled his eyes from the shortly hemmed material in favor of Y/N’s eyes. 

“How’s Lucy? I miss her a lot. Sometimes I felt like I had a closer relationship with her than I did you.” 

The pair shared a laugh. 

“She’s great. Torn that you didn’t come to Christmas this year.” 

Y/N took a sip of the cheap wine in her glass. “I’ll have to text her I suppose.” 

A tension-filled silence overtook the pair as they gaped at each other. Edmund had matured in the short months he was away; his jaw sharpened, his hair now fell in loose curls across his forehead and his muscles had tightened. Even the way he dressed changed. Where a beat up, old flannel once laid held a dark brown leather jacket that hit right above his hips. His beat up converse were exchanged for a pair of lace-up dress boots and his jeans no longer hanging off his body in favor of black skinny jeans. But, the smirk that plastered over Edmund’s features was the same sexy smile Y/N remembered. His eyes had the same mischievous glint to them, too. Oh, the hours she imagined looking down in between her legs and seeing those eyes looking at her. 

“Have you found anyone else?” Edmund casually asked, his hand now resting in his pocket. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how strong they looked. He brought his glass to his puffy pink lips and drank, caramel-colored liquid flowing down his chin. Edmund’s hand broke free from his pocket and ran his palm across his lips, a chunky ring brushing his soft skin. “Is that a weird thing to ask?” 

“No, it’s not.” Y/N tore her gaze from Edmund’s lips and cleared her throat. “I kissed a boy named Alex at a party, but other than that, not really. He was nice and cute and all, but he didn’t exactly do anything for me.” 

“No?” Edmund’s tone rose from casual conversation to somewhere between surprised and cocky. “Alex couldn’t compare?” 

“I guess you could say that. What about you?” 

“Not much time, pre-law is a bit harder than I anticipated.” He twisted the ring with his thumb and brought his glass back to his lips. “Couldn’t get my mind off of a certain girl back home, I suppose.” 

“I miss talking to you. The number of times I had to stop myself from clicking your contact-” 

“- I would have answered, Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” 

Edmund smiled, “Yeah.” His eyes scanned the room before grabbing Y/N’s elbow lightly. “It’s a bit loud in here, let’s go somewhere quieter to talk.” 

Edmund’s rough hand guided her across the busy living room and towards the stairs that led to the bedrooms. 

“Here we are,” Edmund turned on the light of one of the bedrooms. “Caspian won’t mind us high jacking his room for a while.” 

Y/N took a gentle seat on the bed and looked around the room. It was simple and clean; much like how Caspian appeared in most situations. 

“Let’s hope not,” Y/N watched Edmund nervously wipe his sweaty hands on the front of his jeans. 

She paused for a moment, placing her wineglass on Caspian’s bedside table. Edmund threw his jacket onto the desk chair. “You look good, Ed. Never thought I’d see you in anything but straight leg.” Y/N gestured lazily to Edmund’s jeans. They hugged his toned legs perfectly and left very little to the imagination. 

“Eh, yeah, I figured it was time for a change. New school, new me?” Edmund’s pearly teeth shined bright as they came forward to bite his bottom lip. “You look as stunning as ever. Dare I say even more beautiful than I remember.” 

Y/N blushed and looked down. “Always such a charmer, Ed. I’m glad some things never change.” 

Ed took a seat next to Y/N and placed his whisky next to her wine on the table. 

“Why did we break up?” Edmund asks, his voice slightly strained as he spoke. “Neither of us wanted to.” 

“You said that it would save us heartbreak in the future. That we would drift apart anyway and that you wanted to set me free.” Y/N turned her head and watched Ed’s facial features change. His tight jaw clenched, his brows furrowed and his lips fell into a pierced line. 

“I was stupid. God, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He shook his head and made eye contact with the girl sitting next to him. “Being away from you only made me yearn for your presence more. Made me fall in love with you even more.” 

“I never stopped loving you, you idiot.” Y/N’s fingers brushed away a curl from his forehead to reveal a look of pure love and admiration. “You look so fucking good tonight, Ed. Like, Jesus fucking Christ.” 

He scoffed, “Says you! When you walked in the room it took everything in me to not tackle you to the ground.” 

“Tackle me to the ground?” 

“Shut up and stop raising your eyebrow at me! You knew what I meant!” 

“Make me.” 

Edmund’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced at the door before kissing Y/N’s lips for the first time in months. Y/N sighed happily at the feeling; after craving Edmund for so long, the sensation of his soft, warm lips were enough to make her body give out. She gripped his jaw in one palm and grabbed his silky black hair with the other, successfully deepening the kiss. Y/N could feel herself getting drunk off of the taste of coffee and whisky that was left on her lover’s tongue. 

Edmund’s fingers padded against the fabric of Y/N’s dress to distract himself from the ever-growing tent in his jeans. They had never gone as far as sex during their relationship, and since they were newly reunited, he didn’t want to test his luck. But, he had to admit, the feeling of Y/N pressed against his body and the sensation of her nimble fingers tugging at his hair was better than all of his fantasies combined. Edmund groaned into her mouth before he could stop it. 

Y/N giggled and moved so she was straddling his lap, both arms laid lazily across his shoulders. 

“This is new,” Edmund choked, shyly bringing his hands to rest on either side of her waist. 

“New year, new me,” Y/N responded, dipping down to press kisses along his neck. 

“Certainly- shit - certainly is new,” Edmund’s hips bucked to meet Y/N’s involuntarily, causing both to whimper. Y/N took this as a green light to start grinding against his now fully hard tent while she sucked Edmund’s hot skin into her mouth. On instinct, Edmund’s large hands moved to her ass, squeezing handfuls of her dress-covered skin into his palms. 

“Y/N,” He groaned, “Sweetheart- we’ve never -” He gasped and leaned his neck out further so Y/N could lap at his pulse point. “We’ve never done this before. Are you sure?” 

“What? I’ve never grinded on you before?” Y/N grinned into the skin and bit down lightly. “Cause unless my memory fails me -” 

“- No, you know that’s not what I meant. I meant have sex, love. I know we’ve gotten close but I don’t want to pressure you into it.” 

Y/N pulled away and looked at the deep purple bruises on his neck before regaining eye contact. 

“Edmund, I want this. Do you want this?” 

He smiled a lopsided grin, “Fuck yes. I’ve been fantasizing about this for years.” 

“And yet you’ve never told me of them? Rude.” 

Edmund grinned giddily and flipped the pair over so he was towering above her. 

“Well, I’ll be able to show you if you ever shut up, darling.” He grinned and grabbed the back collar of his shirt, pulling it off with one hand. 

His chest was mesmerizing; a few dark freckles littered his sunkissed skin beautifully and his strong shoulders flexed as he moved. He must’ve been working out during his time at university because a few veins protruded from his hand up through his forearm. Under Y/N’s hot gaze, Edmund shuttered but quickly recovered. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He purrs in her ear and kisses her temple, his body now hovering over hers. 

“Since when did you get so… that.” Y/N ran her fingers across his collarbone and up around his neck to his locks.  

“I could say the same for you. What gives you the right to wear such a dress?” Edmund groans, “And to pull my hair?” 

“The hope of seeing you and the reaction I get from it.” She tugs harshly, prompting another deep moan to fall from Edmund’s lips. 

With one swift moment, he pushes Y/N’s dress up above her waist with a shaky hand. 

“Even planned the underwear, cheeky girl.” Ed’s mischievous eyes caught hers. 

Y/N grins bashfully and looks away. “I had to go to war with proper armor.” 

“That you did, baby,” He slinks down her body and rests his head in between her legs. “Now, these fantasies… I spoke of.” 

Y/N hums, enjoying Edmund’s mouth on the inside of her thigh. “Mmmm, yes, seems like we share a few.” 

Inch by inch, he licks and kisses his way up her inner thigh to her desperate pussy, growing more eager to devour her as each second passes. He can see how wet she is through her soaked underwear, making his mouth water at the thought. 

“Please,” Y/N moans, hands gripping in his hair once more. He looks up from in between her legs and grins, eyes hooded and smirk lopsided. Whether he was stalling or teasing, Y/N didn’t know. 

In one fluid moment, Edmund licks a stripe across her clothed heat. Y/N’s body arches up at the sensation and she tugs at his hair. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, Y/L/N,” Edmund groans into the material. His first two fingers hook under the fabric and he pulls it down. “There she is.” 

“Edmund, I swear to god.” 

He ‘tsks’ and shakes his head, eyes teasing and lustful. “Patience, darling. I’ve waited years for this. I’m going to take my time.” 

Edmund continues to bite and suck on Y/N’s inner thighs as he watches her get wetter and wetter, and hears her get breathier and breathier. His hands shake as he ponders how to go about giving head. 

“Fucking hell, just do it!” 

“Your wish is my command, Princess.” 

Edmund begins with slow, sweeping motions across Y/N’s clit. He laps up all of her wetness, humming contently as he tastes her on his tongue. Soon, his tongue circles her sensitive nerve barely brushing against it, making her back arch sinfully. Edmund devours her as if she were his last meal; his huge hands wrapped around her hips to keep her in place. 

Inserting his middle finger inside of her, he curls his finger upward into the rigged flesh of her gspot. His honey-colored eyes watch as Y/N mewls in place; one hand in his hair directing his head in circles, the other gripping the headboard, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open. He releases a deep, sultry moan seeing the pleasure he was giving his love. 

“Feel good?” He asks, unsure if what he was doing was satisfactory. She nods quickly, shoving his face back down. 

“Another finger, Ed,” Y/N gasps, grinding her hips to meet Edmund’s warm tongue. “Please.” 

Edmund pulls out of her completely, only to add his index finger next to the middle. 

“Good girl,” Edmund’s voice was raspy and full of sexual desire. “You gonna cum for me?” 

“Close, don’t stop, please. Y- Yes! Just like that. Don’t stop.” 

Edmund closed his eyes and bobbed his head against her, soiling his nose, cheeks, and eyelids with Y/N’s arousal. His fingers curled inside of her at a quick pace and his tongue swirled against her clit. 

Edmund had never seen Y/N - or anyone - cum right before him. So, when she did, it was the most magical experience of his life. The dirty sound of her screams, the feeling of her clenching around his fingers, the way his name fell so sinfully from her tongue made his dick twitch in his boxers. He could only imagine what her tight pussy would feel like around his needy cock. 

Ed moved from between Y/N’s legs and kissed her on the mouth, hard. His lips were exactly what she needed and the taste of herself on his tongue made her pussy clench all over again. Her shaky hands found the zipper of his jeans and hastily pulled them and his boxers down. 

Y/N brought Edmund’s hard cock into her hand without breaking the kiss. Edmund moaned and bucked into her hand as she pumped and ran her thumb against the swollen, red tip. 

“I need your cock inside of me, Edmund. I need to feel you. Please.” Y/N whimpered, hand jerking faster. 

“Fuck, okay,” Edmund groaned, leaning back and pushing a hand into the back pocket of his jeans. 

“Seems as though I wasn’t the only one who came prepared,” Y/N giggled, taking the condom and ripping open the package. 

“I had to go into war with the proper armor.” Edmund bucked into Y/N’s hand as she rolled the condom on. 

Edmund lined up with Y/N’s entrance and pushed halfway in, resisting the urge to push further. 

“Fuck, more, Ed,” Y/N moaned, throwing her leg over Edmund’s shoulder. He shut his eyes and bottomed out, before pulling out and thrusting in again. 

“Y- Y/N, you feel so good. B- Better than I could have imagined- fuck.” He gasped, finding a comfortable speed. Y/N’s core tightened, building from her first orgasm. Her eyes rolled back and she swore she started to see stars. 

Edmund’s fingers found Y/N’s clit a few strokes in, instantly increasing Y/N’s pleasure. 

“I won’t last,” Edmund grasped, harshly rubbing Y/N and keeping his thrusts even. 

“Good, go faster, please.” Y/N puled Edmund’s lips to hers. 

Y/N’s orgasm was better than the last. Her core tightened against Edmund’s cock delightfully and her teeth ground into Edmund’s bottom lip. At the same time, Edmund was riding out his own orgasm, basking in Y/N’s cunt tightening around his cock. 

“Holy shit,” Edmund murmured as he pulled out and sat up on his knees. 

“Yeah, holy shit.” Y/N laid limp, giggling at Edmund’s messy hair and flushed face. “Let’s never break up again, yeah?” 

Edmund sent one of his famous smiles Y/N’s way. 

“Never again.” 

[holdmyowos]

Your New Boyfriend (Shigaraki x Reader smut)

Shigaraki x Dom!Reader

Includes: gore, angst, cussing, watching p0rn, masturbation, oral

Author's note: I feel like Shigaraki's naturally a dom, but I like to think that he would be a sub because he really doesn't want to hurt you accidentally with his quirk. Also, I found the song, 'Your New Boyfriend' after writing this so I added bits.

"He's in your bed, I'm in your Twitch chat"

Your POV:

Your boyfriend had been too late to save you. The world was starting to go blurry. That damn hero had snapped both of your arms. Not a very heroic thing to do. They hung uselessly, blood trickling down all over. There was no way you would ever use them again. You stared up at the sky. A quirkless nobody like you never should have been in the league. The only reason you were was because All for One had saved you from the rubble of your house. You had no one else to turn to. You looked up at the stars. Wasn't it supposed to be daytime? You must be hallucinating. Hawks descended, the moon shining on his beautiful feathers, looking angelic, and scooped you very gently in his arms. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have protected you." He nuzzles your head. You see the tears falling off of his cheeks. Your arms dangle. He takes a few deep shuddering breaths. "No! You can't die on me! Fuck!" Your vision dimmed and you fell limp in his arms.

"If I could change a single thing, I'd make it me and not him."

Shigaraki's POV:

The battle was over, and the League had finally won for once. Hawks had said that there was something I was supposed to see, and it was important. Usually, we never really talked, so it must actually be important. I ran after him, flying ahead of me. He swooped down next to an unmoving mass. "It's Y/N. They didn't make it." My jaw dropped. Y/N? How? They were the only one that didn't ever make fun of me. They were my reason to live. "Leave. Now. I'll take care of this," I harshly said to Hawks, making him flutter away, not wanting to defy me. I delicately raised them with a pinky in the air, putting my ear to their chest. There was a faint noise, but perhaps that was from somewhere else. "This can't be. You aren't dead." I stared at my hand in confusion. My hand was covered in blood. In the dark of the night, I had failed to realize that they must have been severely injured to make Hawks think they were dead. "Kurogiri!" I snapped. He appeared almost immediately. Upon looking at the person's body, he said, "My condolences. They meant a lot to you, right?" I said nothing. "Don't tell me that. They're not dead. Or... are... are they really gone?" My voice ended sounding almost like a whisper, hoping that it was not so. Kurogiri knelt down next to them, and took a pulse. "It's your lucky day, they're not quite dead yet." My heart fluttered. Hawks you dumbass bastard. Didn't even check for a pulse? "...like I said, yet. If they don't get severe medical treatment very soon, they'll bleed out. None of us have the expertise to fix wounds like this. Both of their arms appear to be broken in multiple places, I severely doubt that they'll live and-" I stood up. "Damn it, Kurogiri! Do what you have to to keep them alive. Anything." Kurogiri nodded, and teleported away, leaving me to scream at the sky.

"I thought when I get older, I'd marry her"

"A half Nomu? You're sure it can be done?" I stared up at the giant cylinder of blue liquid that was keeping them alive in it. Their arms had been amputated. The doctor nodded. As secretive as he was, the guy was totally loyal to All for One, and therefore loyal to me."All we have to do is fix the arms using the process we use for making the Nomu. It should work out perfectly." I nod. That would have to do, as it seemed to be the only way of them getting out of this unscathed. "Well, there could be a few side effects, but nothing too major." He said, ruining the moment. "Like what?" I snapped. "Well, there could be some mental side effects, such as body dysphoria. I mean, there is always the chance that it won't work at all, or that perhaps it works too well and the Nomu part takes over the rest of the body." I scratched my neck. The stress had given back my old habits. "But they'll still mentally be themself, right? I don't want them to end up just like another Nomu." He nodded. "Likely. Still, I'm not sure why you are going through such lengths for one of your minor lackeys. Unless you want to program them to be totally loyal to you or something. But the resources alone for a quirk less nobody-" I put my hands around his neck, making sure to not touch him with all my fingers. Program them? That had to be crossing a line. I took a few deep breaths trying to calm down, but it made it worse. It took all my self control to not disintegrate him for saying such a horrible thing about my love but I needed him to save them. I glanced up at their body, seemingly lifeless in the canister. I tightened my grip. "Never. Never ever talk about them like that. Unless you want to die here and now." I released him to let him go do his work.

After getting the call from the doctor that the treatment had worked, and the healing was done, I immediately had Kurogiri teleport me to see. They looked perfectly fine, their arms free of even scars and blemishes that were there earlier. Something still bothered me. "Why aren't they waking up?" The doctor backed away, no doubt fearful of me turning him into dust."They just need a little time. Take them back to the hideout, and they'll be fine." I did just that, sitting by the side of their bed. "I hope someday you'll realize how much I love you. Enough to bring you back from the dead."

"Your new boyfriend's an arsehole"

Your POV:

You woke up. Groggily, you opened your eyes. How could you have woken up? Weren't you supposed to be dead? You moved your arms. Totally unbroken. In fact, they felt strong. Seeing Shigaraki next to you, you said, "How did Hawks get me to the hospital in time? I thought I was a goner." He sneered. "Pfft. That hero saved you? Please. No. Sorry sweetheart, it was me. He thought you were deceased, and left you for dead. The dumbass should have checked for a pulse. Anyway, after your... boyfriend," he sneered. "...thought you were dead, he abandoned the cause, and revealed that he was a fucking secret agent for the heroes." You shook your head. "No way." He got up. "Whatever princess. Just happy you're fine." He left the room, gently shutting the door. Looking around after getting out of bed, only Kurogiri and Shigaraki were at the league's hideout. How could you be alive. Your arms were supposed to be broken. It was obvious that Shigaraki did not want to talk about it, so you went to his second in command. "Kurogiri, how did you guys get me not dead?" That was a dumb way of putting it. His pupilless eyes turned towards you. "I am programmed to not answer that question. Oh, keeping secrets, are we Shigaraki? There was always a way around, and you would find out. "Do you know how?" He nodded his head yes. "Ok then, what did you do yesterday that had to do with me?" That seemed to work. "I took you to the doctor's lab where he fixed you." He was silent for a moment, then added his two cent take on it, something he rarely ever did. "Shigaraki seemed really concerned for you, Y/N. He loves you. He saved your life. You are in his debt. You must repay him." His words sent chills down your spine. Kurogiri never talked like that. He was always monotonous, giving only the requested information. You backed away, creeped out.

"I just think that I deserve A little bit of what I earned"

You sat behind Shigaraki, on the couch behind his gamer chair. The game blared boss battle music. "Do you wish to fight me, mortal?" That was an odd phrase. Must be the end game boss or something. He kept muttering little things under his breath. It was kind of cute. He won the game after two tries. A smile was on his face. You hardly ever saw that. He started a new game when you sneezed. He turned around, startled. "Oh, Y/N. How are you? I didn't know you were there. How long have you been there, exactly?" Since Kurogiri had said Shigaraki was in love with you, that had to be true. Kurogiri always told the truth. Since Hawks had backstabbed the league, you were open for a new boyfriend, right? You surveyed him with new eyes. Even though he wasn't heather most handsome, with his chapped lips, he wasn't that bad either, his hair was fluffy sky blue color, and something about his eyes entranced you. "Hey, what's with that look? Are you okay?" He seemed concerned for your well-being. This relationship could work out. You shook your head as if clearing the thoughts out. "Fine, thanks." He looked away from you, back at the game. You went over the couch, making a few quieter footstep sounds to make him think you were out of the room, and ducked behind the couch, peering out at him. What did he do in his alone time? He glanced around to check that you had left, and popped a different game into the CD drive. This game was very different from what he had been playing before. Instead of his, shooting, taking-over-the-galaxy-type game, the intro screen had girls in bathing suits... and some without. He started the game up, and immediately a very lewd picture of a girl showed up. He played the dumb game for a bit. Really? The second you leave the room he goes to play that kind of game, and fuck with some cartoon girls? That was actually kind of cute. Did you make him that horny? "None of them are as good as Y/N. Fuck."

"When I'm only one click away from insane"

He drummed his fingers on the desk. Slowly, you heard the unzipping of his pants. This was wrong. You shouldn't be listening in on him. But you couldn't help it. He had a crush on you, and the feeling was mutual. He started making little sounds, no doubt masturabting. Too bad he was turned away from you. "Ugh! Yea, mmmm. Just like that you little slut. Take it real good." Now that was too much. You felt your own panties behind drenched at ugly of him saying such dirty words to you. You slowly crept up on him. Somehow, he must have realized that you were there, because in one deft motion he zipped his pants, turned off the monitor with the naked girls, and stepped in front of the screen as if covering it. He turned to face you, a hand against your throat. "Kinky," you said. Realizing who you were, his hand slowly relaxed from the tight grip he had, letting it fall off of you. He stood there for a second, unsure what to do, unsure of how long you were there.

"'Cause she's living the dream"

"Poor Tomura. Did I stop you from cumming? I know what you did for me, and I want to make it up to you." His scarlet eyes widened and you slowly pressed him back into his chair and straddled him, holding his wrists with your strong arms. "Don't deny it. I know you want this." He looked away, unable to look at you in the eyes. "Yea, sure whatever." His words didn't match his actions. You felt him growing against you, straining against the fabric. "Naughty boy, looking at others for pleasure. They aren't even real. They can't make you feel like I can." You gently pressed your lips against his, and he went along with it, moaning softly. You rolled your hips onto his, giving him a little friction. "Fuck," he muttered softly. You grabbed his hair and made the kiss deeper, his rough lips against yours. You stay like that for a while, content with tasting each other. He finally backed off. "Y/N, you don't know how much I craved you, how much I wanted this." "Oh, I haven't even done anything yet." You very slowly unzipped his pants, and he blushed furiously under you. When you were finally done, you revealed his underwear, soaked where his head met the fabric. You got down on your knees and licked him through the fabric, and he shuddered, digging his nails into the soft leather of the chair. You gently stroked the tip, then slid his pants and briefs down to reveal his cock, which twitched when you blew cold air on it. "I want you so badly. Please. Please." You took him into your hands and licked it a few times before shoving his length into your mouth. He became a sobbing mess beneath you, calling your name as you sucked him off. His words became a string of incoherent praises. You knew he was getting close, so you finished him off and he came onto your hand. After a couple of shuddering breaths, he returned to normal, yet his dick was still erect.

"Love isn't quite what I thought it'd be"

"Please, I want to taste you. Let me, please, let me eat you up," he begged. You took off your lower clothing, and he went onto the couch. You slowly descended onto him, and he spent no time waiting. He grabbed your hips, digging some of his broken fingernails in, making sure not to touch you with all his fingers. You let out a squeal of pain, but that did not stop him. He covered you with his mouth, his tongue making lewd sounds. You let out moans as he did it, and soon you were ready to cum. Surprisingly, he took it well and swallowed it all, still licking you as if a puppy, desperately wanting a last bit of milk from its mother. "You're so desperate, babe. Lighten up." You fluffed his hair, but he kept going. His eyes were half lidded. How was he enjoying this so much? "Dirty little bitch, you just love sucking me, don't you?" He just vibrated his lips against you, and shuddered. "You look like you're fucking possessed. Stop it." He just kept licking and sucking until you came another time, and he came with you.

"I've got the key, and he's just the doormat"

You got off of his face and he gasped for breath, clear and whitish liquids coming out of his mouth. "You make a cute ahegao face," you said, taking a pic. He swallowed, wiped off his mouth, and frowned. "Did you just take a picture?" He tried swiping your phone. "Uh, no?" You replied, keeping the phone out of his reach. You laughed, and whispered in his ear. "I'm keeping this for blackmail until I know we'll do this again." You kissed him on the cheek, and he leaned against you in an attempt to take your phone. You clicked the power button, so he'd have to guess your password before he could delete it. He growled, up in your face. "Fine then, let's go right now."

"Cause she moves on pretty bloody quick"

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Blood in the Library

Well, I finished it even though I was planning on posting it tomorrow. Not my grandest piece, but to me it has a delectable taste of whump and a little comfort seasoning. Mmmm yum. You can tell I'm hungry. Anway, this is shorter than normal, but, not to be a spoiler, still has my classic cliffhanger.

Warnings: gorey descriptions of blood, collapse/loss of consciousness, descriptions of murder, begging, descriptions of someone's lack of weight and muscles

~

Then he just... collapsed?

Fell down the stairs in epic slow-mo, eyes turning white just before his head cracked against the concrete surface. Face growing into a snowy blanch as his injuries caught up to his rapidly tiring body.

Civilian rushed forward in a desperate attempt to catch him, but it was an effort close to pointless. He had already fallen deep into a pit of blackness and painless sleep.

Civilian scooped up his fevered body and hugged him close. His bloody head lolled limply across her chest until it settled in the crease of her shoulder, content to just rest there for eternity.

Civilian's eyes scouted his body, taking in the countless bruises and pools of blood. It was a horrendous sight- one that would make a squeamish person retch with revolting nausea. But she wasn't one for that, so she pressed her hands firmly against the worst of the bubbling blood geysers to staunch the streaming flow.

When the blood flow minimized to a manageable amount, she grabbed her phone and proceeded to call the ambulance, but a weak hand stopped her.

Civilian looked down to see fluttering indigo-colored eyes meeting her own rustic browns. They were, indeed, more than beautiful- dare say, gorgeous to some degree. Civilian couldn't help but admire them. The way green swirled into navy... it was a sight that she didn't want to stop seeing.

But of course, her wish was denied when the poking and prodding of the situation reminded her that the injured man was awake and quite distressed.

"No," he begged. "No...nnn, no stop stop... phsl-phslease please no." His shaky hand floated about aimlessly, but the dark azure eyes guaranteed the intensity of the weakly said plea.

For a split second, Civilian was dumbfounded before realizing that she needed to comfort and soothe the man.

"Hey," she set down the phone. Immediately, the man's anguished features relaxed, looking approvingly at the laid phone.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," she told him, not quite understanding his sudden placidity- the painless look of serenity in those irises. It was as if all agony faded with the simple gesture, but the quivering of his lips and sporadic twitches determined otherwise.

"Not that," he slurred in incomplete syllables, his eyes closing despite his best efforts to stay conscious.

"Okay," Civilian went to pick up her phone again, to call the much needed paramedic, but a sudden outburst from the man made her drop the phone, startled.

"No amb'lanch," he cried, but it was a waste if energy. His head dropped back against her, eyes rolling backwards once again. Civilian shook him to the waking world.

"Who are you?" She asked as if that would give her some clearance about not calling the ambulance.

"Villain..." He mumbled, slurred and incoherent, but Civilian heard it as if it was screamed at her. Then, his eyes shut all the way and he was lost to the world.

Civilian dropped the man and scurried to her feet, hands grappling at her cheeks. It was... Villain. One of the most feared criminals in the whole city. The one who strung people up by wires to slowly kill them in the most gruesome way possible.

The one that even heroes didn't dare to cross.

And he was passed out at her feet, bleeding and barely breathing.

She should've turned him in. Turned him in so that the proper authorities could finally arrest the menace that plagued the city- especially now that he was subdued and probably very compliant.

Yet... he was shivering. Shivering from the cold, exhaustion, and pain. It would be merciless to leave him to suffer- possibly die- alone. Civilian had some morals affer all.

Villain didn't. That much was clear from the way he razed cities to the ground. It was clear from the way he mercilessly slaughtered innocents. And it was more than clear when he threw bombs in front of traffic to kill and destroy everything within a half mile radius.

But he was injured.

But he had killed so many others without even blinking an eye.

No one else had to die.

Now, Civilian was not a model of muscles. She was more accurately described as a "bag of bones". Heck, some people even told her to go to a doctor- she had grown in size since then, but still.

So, linking her arms and dragging the villain a foot unlocked new muscles that she didn't even know she had. Not that she had the muscles, but after walking just a little bit, she was exhausted and sore.

"How?" She sighed and slumped down to the ground. The villain was still asleep, not bothered by the ninety degree turn Civilian maneuvered him in.

The library that Civilian volunteered at was lazily sitting itself against the sunset in a silhouetted painting. The stairs leading up to it- the ones Villain fell down- weren't too tall... ish? No, they towered over the pair, guarding the marbled building. White pillars supported the small tiled canopy with vigor, giving the quaint building a classic Roman Empire vibe.

Inside was a small isolated office where Civilian spent her lunch break. It had an expresso machine to satisfy her zealous cravings for the brunette liquid with white creamer topping.

It also had a couple comfortable bean bags that were perfect for the villain to recline upon until he woke up. It wasn't like Civilian was planning on actually tending to the vibrant red gashes. Dragging him to a heated room was enough- a gifted treasure to the villain, she believed- and it would be unlawful to go any further.

It took maybe an hour until the fit figure and skinny one barged through the glass door- the only portion of the exterior that did not hold that Pompeii look. Civilian was dripping with sweat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Villain had not moved. His face was still and lubricant.

Civilian laid Villain upon the red castle-like carpet that spread through the hallway of the library before shutting the dark sky out, closing the door and locking it.

She then took Villain to the earlier mentioned office with more ease for the red carpet made him slide like a bolt drenched in WD-40. She opened the office. Thankfully, unlike every other room in the building, the walls barricading it were made of plaster, not transparent diamond-shaped panel windows.

She laid him upon a gray beanbag and assessed his wounds before turning to leave.

But a small whimper made her spin back around.

Villain was awake, taking in his surroundings with dazed interest- not really understanding, but realizing his situation, or dilemma, depending on what his half-delirious mind thought. Finally, after a few slow moments of searching the walls for some hidden answer, those dazzling- and slightly familiar- eyes landed on the tiny body of Civilian.

Civilian didn't know what to say. Any statement her mind conjured was shot down with a contradicting question of "what if he asks this" or "won't that make me seem like I care for him".

So she settled on a simple question that anyone would've ask anyone.

"How are you feeling?"

The villain took a while to make sense of the peculiar question. He was, in fact, never asked that from anyone.

Not even-

He shuddered, not wanting to think of the one person who might've once cared for him.

"Weird," the villain replied, eyes shifting downwards to study the masterpiece done on him. Like paint, once it dried on the flesh-covered canvas, it would be an artist's hard work.

The end result.

"Like how?" Civilian wondered, despite her natural instincts to leave.

"Dizzy? Pain, hurts. Don't know," Villain forced himself to meet those kind looking eyes.

"You lost a lot of blood," Civilian answered, setting her body next to his. "I'm pretty sure these need stitches."

Villain nodded, blue eyes ragged with an uncharacteristic emotion. Fear, almost.

"You... Civ'lian?" Villain slurred, his body threatening to shut down once again.

"Yes," Civilian replied. "I am. And you are Villain." The words tasted like hot sauce in her mouth. She just admitted outloud to herself that she was caring for a villain. The most notoriously evil villain in the city, if that fact wasn't stated enough.

"Know you..."

"No, I think you are delirious."

"No. Know you," the villain asserted.

"Okay... who did this to you?" Civilian asked, watching the rapidly fading Villain's face.

"My boss and m' brother," the villain responded, his eyes slipping shut. "...Hero."

The world seemed to stop as the last word was uttered. Hero?

Those eyes. The familiar captivating gaze held in those blueberry-flavored irises. The notable green swirls, speckles of black dust... those were Hero's eyes.

Those were her boyfriend's eyes.

[m-calculus]

Image source: https://twitter.com/tonys219/status/1046820392470556673

Virgil’s Birthday

Virgil sat in the sand wearing only his board shorts, squishing the sand between his toes after returning from his swim.

The waves lapped at the shore just a few metres away, crashing before receding in small ripples. The small fire he’d built smouldering in front of him, orange embers against the black coals.

The sun was setting, creating a rainbow of pinks and orange across the horizon, as Virgil stared out over the ocean.

He shivered slightly, poking at the fire with a stick and adding another log to keep it burning, before pulling his beach towel around his shoulders.

Between the roaring of the ocean and the bird calls as they returned to roost on Mateo, Virgil could hear stumbling footfalls coming down the path. They had to belong to John, he’d not yet been earth-side long enough to come to terms with gravity.

Sure enough the Astronaut soon appeared beside him, his ginger hair shining in the fading light, as he slid off his shoes and settled down in the sand, a thermos and cups in his hands.

“Cocoa?” he started to pour a cup.

“Yes, please,” Virgil accepted the warm liquid gratefully, blowing on it gently before taking a sip.

They sat in silence as the moon and stars appeared in the sky, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Virgil drank in and absorbed the peaceful energy as the gentle salt-laden breeze caressed his face, which he intended to later express on a canvas in his studio.

John picked out his favourite constellations in the night sky, running through the various facts he knew about them in his head.

Thunderbird 1 roared above them, disappearing further up the Island and down underneath the pool.

John got to his knees in preparation to stand. “Are you coming up to the house? It is your birthday dinner after all.”

Virgil smiled. “Well, when you put it that way...”

He extinguished the fire with sea water using a bucket they kept tied to a palm tree for that purpose, and offered John a hand up, as he was still wobbly on his feet.

By the time they reached the house, and Virgil threw on some clothes, Scott was already unpacking the containers of Chinese food, direct from one of the best restaurants in China. They didn’t usually serve take-away, but received the largest tip of the year for being so accommodating.

Gordon and Alan were bouncing impatiently in front of the counter, taking in the smells of the food which were now wafting around the room.

“You know the rules, it’s Virgil’s birthday so he gets to plate up his food first,” Scott reminded them, pointing a finger at Gordon before sneakily grabbing a spring roll.

“Hey!” Gordon rounded the bench, jumping up onto Scott’s back and grabbing his shoulders like a baby koala as Scott held the spring roll out of reach.

“You’d best get your food quickly, Virgil,” John smirked.

Alan was laughing so hard that tears ran down his face, as both Scott and Gordon fell to the floor with a crash.

Virgil shook his head, plating up a selection of his favourite dishes.

“Now we can eat!” Gordon dove into the containers, with Alan not far behind.

Scott and John waited for the whirlwind which was the terrible two to move away to the table before plating up their own food, by which time Kayo, Grandma and Brains had joined them in the kitchen.

Gordon and Alan had eaten their food so quickly that Virgil wondered if they’d even actually tasted it, before going back for seconds.

Brains was impressed. “I haven’t had food like this since a visiting colleague cooked a traditional Chinese dinner for us!”

By the time they’d all cleared their plates, with enough leftovers in the fridge for lunch the next day, everybody started meandering into the lounge for birthday cake.

Virgil couldn’t believe his eyes. In the centre of the room was a GINORMOUS cake, in the shape of Thunderbird 2, taking up the entire coffee table.

“What?! How?!” Virgil looked around at his family.

Alan did a small first-pump, “See, I told you he’d like it!”

Scott laughed, ruffling Alan’s hair, “It was Alan’s idea to have a cake made in the shape of Thunderbird 2. I’m glad we managed to keep it a secret getting it back to the Island,” he winked.

“Now let’s sing happy birthday!” Grandma started them off. “Happy Birthday to you...”

Virgil blew out the candles, hesitating slightly before cutting into the cake, it almost looked too good to eat, before slicing right through.

“You touched the bottom, you need to kiss the nearest person!” Gordon piped up from the other side of the room, waggling his eyebrows.

Virgil laughed and gave their Grandma a peck on the cheek, as Scott took over cutting the cake into slices, passing one to Virgil.

“Mmmm, chocolate with mint frosting!” he exclaimed, taking another mouthful.

“Happy Birthday, Virgil.” Scott wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33252112