#enjoing my night in

[kingkatsuki]

Specifically thinking about long distance relationships today.

So tell me how you and your f/o would first meet online?

[catnykit]

AJUDJWIDID

SQUEAKING CRYING SCREECHING GUYS THEY KISSED ITS CANNON NOW AAAAAAAA

[1800titz]

HI BESTIES. Trivia!Harry x Shy!Reader part 1 ((based on THIS post))

The one where Harry hosts trivia at a small town bar every Thursday and you just can’t seem to shut up.

WC: 3.7K

This is part one of a patreon exclusive series — the rest will only be accessible through my patreon. You can already find part 2 up on my patreon (✿◠‿◠)

You take a long drink. It tastes like kismet and carbonated nothingness.

(Retrospect will tell you that it's meant to be— tiny town, diminutive ambitions, hulking potential. But now, the twinge of an uncomfortable fever crawls up from your collar and makes you want to squirm in your seat.)

“Alright, alright, alright.”

And the smooth baritone against the head of a microphone makes your insides squeeze. Close. Real close— his mouth is pink, hovering millimeters, and that brass is the kind that seeps over your nape, under your skin. Molasses-heavy, slinking the gaps in the meshed grill caging. You blink up at the portable four-by-eight platform.

It's the kind of squeeze along your guts, the heat simmering in your face the longer you stare, that'll taunt you in the ridges of the night. Boxed into this— tonight, under a parapet— comfort zone hovering beyond your periphery, in the nook of the living room you left behind to wrack your head and stare at sin-in-bulk on a mobile stage.

The lively chatter dulls as heads turn, and then swells in eager increments. 

“Alright,” he says, a set of green eyes flickering from the monitor he’s settled over a rejigged high top, bounding sharply to whoever’s just given an overly enthusiastic cry of yes from the horde.

A peal of sparse, scattered laughter blooms in the throng. His mouth quirks.

“Very enthusiastic. How are you?” 

His cresting gaze climbs from the glowy screen, casting light and carving shadow over the sultry features of his visage; an evenly straight slope of a nose, cheekbones feathered by long lashes, a bit of curl that traipses over his forehead. 

His chin swivels to his left, somewhere closer to the platform where a woman leans over the table— her designated team. The corners of his lips curl in response to whatever she’s said. He smiles. Nods. He tips his chin. Makes a creased face like something playful. Says something else, laughs softly, and turns back, shaking his head. 

You tuck the straw into your mouth and take another, long slow sip.  

In the heft of his hand, the stem of the mic nearly resembles a toy. A maquette between the thick of his fingers.

“Hope everyone’s having a lovely Thursday. M’Harry, I’ll be leading the trivia— as I do— so if you’re sitting there going, who is this obnoxious cock, talking into the mic the whole night? Hi, Hello. That’s me— I do trivia.”

You get it now. The infamous cynosure is fit. 

At first, you had been dubious to desert your romcom reruns and your cross-stitch project mid-way (despite the fact that your thumb now resembles a pin cushion) when your friends had swept you off into their regularly scheduled, mysteriously niche Thursday night schemes. Now, you get it. 

The destination— The Black Horse— is a fuggy little space that smells like spilt Michelob and fusty, weathered oak. There’s a no smoking sign pasted in a spare crevice of the backbar, but someone in the far right corner exhales a plume of vapor like they’ve hit their elfbar in the most nonchalantly covert manner imaginable. Shamelessly. It’s a small town— an islet in the heart of an archipelago— and you think you can make out your seventh grade swim team rival perched somewhere off in the front row. 

The Black Horse is nothing special. It sells cheap draughts by the pitcher and parallels a barbershop in the crux of the town, two blocks off the boardwalk, which is arguably the chiseled, shiny musgravite of Treah’s core— a roaring green sea that eats away at the borders of the isle, shrouding vibrantly hued cays, glimmering under the beam of the sun. The majority of the holm’s economy is dependent on tourism (a simultaneous bane— said tourists enjoy uprooting foliage, building infrastructures, and partaking in chunks of housing buyouts), but you can tell that The Black Horse has been …preserved to say the least. It’s four stone walls sewn into a plaza with three other natively owned businesses and looks like something straight out of a cinematic piece set in a rural village, planted into Treah long before you had her first wiggly tooth. 

The Black Horse isn’t what makes attendance worth it. It’s him—

“We’ve got a crowd tonight. If you haven’t played trivia with me here at The Black Horse before, welcome. S’a little different than your typical trivia, though, because it’s…”

The crowd hollers back, as if scripted, “Dirty trivia!” 

“Dirty Trivia,” Harry echoes, and when the edges of his lips crook, dimples burrow beside the corners, “Right, Dirty Trivia. This one’s rated R, so if you’re not old enough to be here, I dunno how you got here, but this is going to be your cue to head out. Any— any children in here tonight? …No? Wonderful.” 

He huffs into the mic, shaking his head and jostling his halo of curls. A jaundiced, warm beam catches on them. “I know that sounds ridiculous, but m’not even joking— a couple of weeks ago someone was sitting in here with, like, a little kid.” 

It’s Harry, with the divots burrowing into his cheeks, the croon into the mic, lighting the crowd alive on an introduction. Incandescent (speckled in stars, spelled out— you don't get that bit, yet.)

You cross your legs. Your friend raises her eyebrows from across the teak table top and says it with her eyes. Told you so; Trivia Man is a cream dream. 

“Yeah,” Harry confirms over the dispersed, appalled eruption of laughter, nodding down at someone seated at a table closer to the stage, “I was, like, …shit,” he blinks back up and motions out, a slow sweep with his free hand, “Friendly reminder, this is not a form of sex ed.” 

Pausing, (lips twitchy over the sown mirth), he brings the microphone back with a newfound seriousness and tacks on, nodding slowly, “…That kid won it for the whole team.” 

He smiles. It's a lopsided spall of a ruddy seam that shows teeth, and that's when you recognize the heinous, gurgling froth of a new addiction. Incipient, blooming along your shimmery, star-struck eyes.

“No, m’joking,” he clears his throat. “M’gonna pass out a sheet and some little note pads for your answers. You’re gonna use one of those little notes to jot down a clever team name, do the same in that team name spot of the sheet, and then pass the note up to me.”

Pussy Posse. A pre-established moniker you have had no jurisdiction over, merely perched as an addition to a settled cadre. Still, you gnaw into your cheek when you watch a friend beside you scribble in the title with a ballpoint. 

“I’ll be coming around between questions to pick those answers up, have a chat, whatever. We’re all here to have fun, yes?” 

You swear he sweeps you with his eyes, like a passing tide gliding the sea. Probably just the way the green in his sockets meets everyone else in the throng, but the moment it happens your molars chew in harder.

“On the topic of fun, let’s keep it nice and fair, yeah? Phones put away— no cheating— you’ll have plenty of time to check those when we have our break midway.”

It feels ignoble to eye-fuck him from behind the sheathes of your empty irises as he paces the stage— after all, this is just a wholesomely clad, virtuously upstanding guy leading trivia, but. The gears behind your skull are mottled with the amalgam of a fawning affliction— cerebrospinal fluid and sticky tar. It leaves you in a goop of thoughtless ogling that renders your head empty. Even when he makes his way to the bar-height table your team curls around, when his eyes linger on you— “A new face.”— you just...

Mindlessly stare. 

Dirty trivia, you learn, is dirty.

It hits you when Harry quips (dare you note, mischievously), “Hoo-hoo-hoo. Starting off strong with the first one.” 

He states, talc flickering from the LED display ahead to the bevy of trivia-players, “What country,” and pauses for emphasis, “has—“ pits grub at the smooth of his cheeks, beside the grin that splinters to show ivory teeth, “the highest average, in the world, for penis size?” 

There’s no source of entertainment like that of trivia held, on a Thursday, on a remote islet, in a poky bar that smells like stale beer and dust-coated, chipping leather. Evidently. 

“I actually don’t know this one,” Harry chimes, raising a wry shoulder, “So it’s trivia for me, as well.” 

“England,” Marina stamps a blow that the teak hasn’t warranted, whisper-shouting over the staggering peals of guffaw and chatter, “He’s hung, I bet you.”

“He’s not going to fuck you for writing in England,” Beth’s chortles clash with your scorned, “Marina.”

“That’s not even an answer,” Bee waves towards the flatscreen framed over the man’s head.

Senegal, Haiti, Ecuador, and Gambia. 

“Where the fuck is Gambia—”

You settle on Gambia. 

You watch Beth scribble it in and dot the i with an open sphere. The edges don’t meet. When Harry winds the rows of tables, plucking answer cards and making small-talk, you cast your inkpools into your glass, pyrexia across the bridge of your nose, brain-rotted with the insinuation of him being …hung.

“Lots of Haiti, lots of Senegal,” Harry states, once he’s smoothed the cards out with his colossal, ringed paws, and looked them over. 

You stare at the bob of his throat as he swallows, directing the mic back to his lips.

“Big reveal?” He pauses, as if for cataclysmic emphasis, riling the crowd enough for you to note restive shoulders and juddering feet. 

“Patience,” Harry says softly into the microphone, raising his eyebrows. It's a muted word that clicks in the speaker with a thump. Throbs between your ribs, under your cold hands.

With paltry warning, he reveals, “Ecuador! At,” squinting at the blue-toned LED, “—a whopping 6-point-nine-three. Solid for the average. Do we have any Ecuadorian men in the audience tonight? Anybody who’s added to that average? Congratulations. You beat us. You beat everyone.” 

There’s a dissonant slurry of responses, some ripostes flung along tables, some bouts of clapping, hollering over the rows, sloshing mugs raised in triumph. 

Harry’s deltoids climb in a shrug, and his head wags from side to side, “Some valiant contenders, those Ecuadorians.” 

“I told you it wasn’t Gambia—“

You ogles the way Harry tilts over the platform towards a table, brows kinked as if trying to pick up something audible he’d missed. In your periphery, Marina prods into Beth’s direction with a palmful of something claret in a pellucid martini glass. 

“What was that?” Harry coaxes into the microphone. 

The corners of his mouth have caved up, and by the time the majority of the trivia-players sink into a piqued lull, he’s slanted over toward the table. A brunette with long, shiny hair arches up out of her seat into her directions, braced to the teak high-top with planted, elbow-locked arms. 

“Where do you fall?” is undeniable the second time. 

Harry blinks. His mouth paints over with a smile. 

“Where do I fall?”

He blatantly bridles a sputter when he winds toward the laptop he’s set up, culls his glass of a golden, pale straw beer that’s lost its layer of foam, and takes a long drink. Clears his throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Very forward. Take me out to dinner first.” 

You discover that, despite the ubiquitously crude sexualizing, Harry is sort of like a bird. An Indian Peafowl, preening with its neatly arranged plume— he likes it. The flattery. His tongue peeks out and swipes along as he stares down at the screen. Little dimples pit when it tucks back in— ones he blatantly can’t contain. 

He chuckles and states into the microphone, “…Below. Don’t worry about it.” 

Somehow, you doubt it.  -

-

-

-

You plait yourself into the Thursday Fawn Sessions as a regular attendee, curling up at the same high top to ogle the same man pace a platform with a microphone. Watch him make jesting comments and ask things like, “Axillism is the act of using what strange body part during sex?” 

You find yourself learning a thing or two from each session, and you find that the emeralds seated in his sockets linger on you, sometimes— this absolute clam shell taking up a spot in the bar and chugging fizzy water (ogling his frame in lull every time he approaches your table), too. Pussy Posse is no good at the trivia, more often than not wheedling in second-to-last, but you find yourself much too entertained to mind. 

Franks is a self-explanatory hot dog cart. It stands midway on the boardwalk and operates through sunny mizzles and borderline hurricane cloudbursts, when the green salt chuck is choppy. High tiding. Those are the days you stand out in your jaundiced poncho, salty rain spittle beating at your cheeks, and watch the waves eat at the ipe in a nasty, wet hunger, no customers in sight. 

Midsummer afternoons, though, are good. Busy. When Treah morphs industrious and bustling — tourists like Franks on the boardwalk. 

It’s a slow coda for June. The sea is planate, swaying over steel supports mantled by barnacles. Gulls chortle, gliding low in the ether— it oozes yellow, something balmy like the goo of an egg yolk. You've sold two hot dogs, tallied three joggers (one eager speedwalker), and noted one couple pushing a baby in a stroller, who offered tight-lipped smiles and veganism. You don't entirely mind a slow day, because setting shop on the boardwalk means spending the day on the boardwalk. Breathing the sea until your lungs are full of salt and your eardrums reverberate the crash of the water behind your skull. You taste it at the back of your throat— something like home as home could get.  

There’s another jogger loping— a moving blip of skin color in chiaroscuro against wood paneling. In the distance. Drawing closer. You imagine him passing the cart, the soles of his trainers padding over the row of planks until he’s just another form of lines and shading, faced away. You check your phone. 

The jogger is still a good bit away. You swipe open Wordle. You're on your third attempt of elucidating something that goes blank, I, blank, E, blank (with a P that doesn’t quite fit where you've slotted it)—

“Hi.”

Your eyes crest. 

Treah is a really small town. Not in a prudishly, bible-bashing form of a pastoral village, sheathed in a bosky, wooded moat of thicket and then plains of nothingness for hundreds of miles. But it is an island enveloped by the sea from all sides, sequestered without a boat or a little plane, whose wheels bumpily kiss the asphalt of anearly comically small airport. Even the tourists lodging up in their summer homes, all the same months like annual clockwork, make reappearances. The faces are, nearly always, the same, and you see the same faces often. It was only a (limited) matter of time before you'd coalesced beyond the borders skirting The Black Horse.

In hindsight, you didn’t envisage that you'd be wearing a baseball cap emblematized with a weenie when it happened. Or that his tits would be out and about. 

“Have you got water?”

He’s panting. Casually slippery; coated in sweat that glimmers in the sun and carves the well-toned sinews of his torso, with sunglasses tucked up over his curls like a makeshift headband. He ogles expectantly with a set of jade that puts the hues of the lapping, green sea behind him to shame. A parted mouth, sculpted and cushiony, sucks in breaths from the liminal space divvying their atoms while your own become clogged, somewhere midway an esophageal prison, in limbo toward your lungs. A shaded lepidoptera scored over his tummy flutters, batting its wings in the swell and sink of his diaphragm expanding. 

His shorts are teeny. Tiny, little things. Cobalt. Mirroring laurels carving alongside his V-line peek from the waistband, and a happy trail climbs to kiss his navel. 

You blink. “Yes. Yeah. We do. Yes. …Is bottled okay?” 

“Bottled is perfect.”

He sticks a hand into his pocket, eyes flickering to your face, away, back. Slow-like. You trace the wisps in the sky with your eyes, heat searing up your neck and pooling in the flesh of your face. It’s a sudden, unforeseen stuffiness sweltering for such a beautiful day. You recognize your horrid blunder in his next words. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” 

You should have ducked your chin, tucked the visor lower, and hoped for the best. Instead, now, you blink, dazed and wide-eyed like a Red brocket saturated by blinding headlights.  

“Oh. I’m not sure. Um. Small …town— maybe?” 

“You come to, uh—“ a nudge with his chin in your direction as you arduously regulate the stuttery pace of your respiration. The jitter in your fingers, like a lovesick school girl. You cache them behind the cart and let them judder. “—trivia nights. At The Black Horse, yeah? I couldn’t forget a face like yours.” 

Harry grins, the way he does. Lopsided, so the left corner turns up a little higher— dimpled with a long flash of teeth. Except now, he’s slippery and half-naked. 

Folie. Miscalculated gaffe in a weenie cap. Your smile is tight.

“Oh—“ again, “…Yeah.” 

“Right,” Harry nods. Smiley. Lingering, looking you over. He buries an enormous hand back into his pocket then, brows creasing like he’s remembered something, and pulls out a little rectangle in cardboard paper. “Hey, actually. I’ve got this coupon here. S’what I do all the other days of the week, ah—“

He extends it out. 

Harve-y a free drink, on us! 

“M’a bartender over at Harvey’s. S’close to The Black Horse, if you’re in that area. Monday and Saturday mornings. Wednesday and Friday nights. If you come by, I’ll fix you up with a drink.” 

It feels impolite to leave him hanging, so you swipe out at the offering, cradling it with slow fingertips. 

“We can do some one on one trivia. Train you up,” Harry tacks on.

You swallow. Harry is an attractive man. His allure is apodictic— a sort of conventional, objective quality that leaves your throat parched when it becomes paired with his unfaltering eye contact. You're not a virgin, and you're an adept swimmer, but his presence feels like viridian saltwater that’s waiting to swallow her whole. The nerves that bubble, a fizz of chagrin, remind you why exactly you enjoy fawning from a distance. Because he makes you feel nervous, and when you're nervous, the dialogue spumes like miasmic word vomit. 

He’s got a thin sheathe of sweat that glimmers in the seat of his cupid’s bow, but it’s not in a gross way. In fact, it reminds you that the rest of him, his denuded skin, is slick, because he’s been jogging along the boardwalk. It reminds you how hard it is not to openly ogle the tattoos he’s got on show. You should have called out from your weenie gig, and you should have refilled her alprazolam prescription weeks ago. 

“Oh,” you tell him, slowly, face creasing, “I don’t— I don’t drink.”

Harry blinks. It’s a weird confession, considering you're a Thursday night regular at a bar that’s really only good for anything that has enough alcohol to shroud the stale taste perfuming the air. Still, nothing beyond open expectancy erupts along his features, and that’s worse. You feel them crawling up your throat, clambering up the back of your tongue like the words have knobby joints. They meet the backs of your teeth, waiting to spew. 

“—Not because I’m a recovering alcoholic or anything, I just don’t like the way it makes me feel. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Or drinking. I actually think it’s so admirable. You know? Like, to be brave… and… and a lot of times those people will attend support groups—“

Harry blinks again. 

“—And they talk about it. I can’t imagine sharing something like that— not that there’s anything wrong with it! But. Um. I always get virgin cocktails at The Black Horse. Or club soda. Or juice.”

Her lips seal over. You entrap the rest behind your traitorous teeth — a drawbridge that never should’ve sunk open. Despite your overly candid, overstated explanation, you don't stick the coupon back out in his direction. You harbor it in your hand, blinking slowly and gnawing into your cheek. 

“…S’okay. We do orange juice, too,” Harry tells her, entirely casual despite your discomfited speech, raising his brows. 

There’s the curbed efforts of a bemusedly mirthy grin at the corners of his mouth, and his nonchalant bearing only makes your face hotter. You feels like you're broiling under the shade of the awning. 

“And club soda.” 

“…Cool,” You settle on, tightly. 

“Sick.”

“…It’s, uh… two dollars,” you tell him when the reticence starts to suffocate you. 

You're going to go home and ram your head through a window. 

“Oh,” Harry casts his gaze to the water (it has the average, entirely typical proportions of a water bottle, but in his hand, it’s nearly miniature), as if he’s forgotten the chilly source of condensation coating his palm. That he’s in arrears. He sticks his free hand into the same pocket where the coupon was stuffed, “Right. I think I’ve got two dollars in here, somewhere.” 

Instead, when he stretches a bill out towards you, it’s worth ten. You avoid eye contact. You reach for the cash box tucked below, and you pry the lid up to delegate his change. 

“Oh,” Harry echoes, raising his enormous hand in effort of halting you, “S’alright. S’yours.”  

“Oh. I… can’t take tips. It’s, like. Against the code of conduct.” 

“Code of conduct at a …hot dog stand?” 

As if you needed to be reminded that you're donning a silly cap with an animated frank, standing on a boardwalk that’s practically empty of prospective patrons. The chagrin churns in your stomach and surfaces in the set line of your mouth. 

“…Yes.” 

Harry pauses, brows kinked like he’s ruminating, and then he inhales and decides, “Well. It’s not a tip, yeah? It’s just… you break it up, put two in the box, and then put the rest in your pocket.” 

“Oh. No. You— you’ve already given me the coupon—“ you argue, frenziedly waving out a mismatched wad of cash.

He raises his hands and ambles in one suavely, lengthy step back. “I’m going now.” 

“No!” 

He’s three away that would fit five or six of your own gait when he declares, “Yes! I hope to see you for that orange juice. On the house. Have a good one.” 

This is a patreon exclusive series. If you'd like to read more, part 2 is already up on my patreon! <3

[anykindofbean]

Deserving

Moondrop x Reader: Deserving

I wrote one like this for Sun, only fair if Moon got one too.

Genre: Suggestive

Warnings: Dom Moon, smooches, teasing

If you want to check out more of my works: Masterlist

———————————————————

" Moon?" You spoke cautiously, freezing all movements. You were at the security desk, just trying to find one thing you needed, when you felt Moon behind you suddenly.

" Yes, starlight?" He hummed; voice laced with honey as the back of his fingers slid across your cheek. Your breath was caught up in your throat.

The things this animatronic made you feel...

" What are you doing?" You whispered, so soft an average human could barely catch it, but Moon did.

He hummed once more, faceplate tilting as he did. " Whatever do you mean?" You are 100% sure that Moon is smirking right now just by the tone of his voice. It drove you mad.

You felt a shiver go down your spine as one of his hands trailed down your back, stopping right at your tail bone.

" That." You spoke, scared that he would notice how much this effecting you. Of course, he noticed though, how could he not? His focus was pinned on you and only you.

Moon chuckled in amusement. " What? This?" Suddenly both of Moon's hands were on your waist, spinning you around in a blink of an eye. He pressed you against the desk, leaning over you enough to tease. " Is this what's got you so flustered, my Starlight?" He spoke in a mischievous whisper, his faceplate right against your ear, sending one more chill down your spine.

Your hands gripped onto the desk as you gulped, speechless. Your eyes trailed to Moon's lips. You felt your breath quicken, one hand slowly coming to rest on Moon's shoulder. " Moon..." You almost whimpered out.

Moon was so visibly amused by this. " Yes?" He began to rub circles on your waist with one hand, while the other slipped under your shirt, just under your chest. Now both hands were on his shoulders, you leaned forward, attempting to give him a kiss that you oh so wanted, and just before your lips touched, Moon pulled back with a chuckle.

" Naughty, Naughty Starlight. I didn't give you permission to do such a thing." His faceplate rotated, mimicking a head tilt. " Be a good girl and beg."

You felt your body heat up at his words. " W-what?"

Moon gave another one of his famous chuckles as he leaned over you, practically making you lay on the desk. He leaned down to your ear. " Beg for it. You made Sunny do it, now it's your turn." His voice so close to your ear made you shiver, your face heating up as you recalled making Sun beg for the same exact thing.

"...Can I have a kiss...please?" You looked away, clearly embarrassed. Moon grabbed your face, forcing you to look back at him. He made a sound that resembled tongue clicking.

" You can do better than that, my Star." he leaned down, your lips barely touching. " Go on, Beg me for it."

You had the thought to just grab his faceplate and pull him in to close the distance. But the other part of you knew things would go much better if you listened.

" Please Moon...I want a kiss, please?" You spoke shyly, trying your best to keep eye contact. Moon hummed, almost like he was thinking.

" But do you deserve it?"

You huff quietly, nodding slowly. " Y-yes...I... I've gone to bed relatively early every night." You try not to laugh at yourself. Moon just gave you a look, you couldn't tell if its amusement or genuine pride.

All of a sudden, Moon shrugged. " Good enough." He then grabbed both your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss that you both were craving. Your hands came to rest on his chest as the kiss went on.

Soon he pulled away and looked deeply into your eyes. " Now Starlight, before we continue, I need you to do one more thing for me." He glided his thumb over your bottom lip. You just sigh, still a little kiss drunk.

" Yes?"

" Tell me what you mean by 'relatively early'."

———————————————————

I could not take this seriously by the end.

Sorry this took so long to get out! I hope you enjoy it though!

[hailsatanacab]

@the-ghost-trader - ooooh, i love this! it has the potential to be so incredibly sad, too, like poor Damian just trying to carve out something normal for himself only for it blow up in his face

BUT, shockingly, i'm not about the angst today! not yet anyway 😇

---

“So, how was your day?”

Despite his answering groan, Damian likes this. This. This whole… thing he has with Danielle. With Ellie. 

And, yeah, he’s not exactly told any of the others yet, but can you blame him? For wanting to keep something, anything, to himself. Wanting to keep this small little slice of goodness he’s managed to carve out, untouched and unmarred by his family, by their other lives, by the rogues, the vigilantes, the assassins, everyone.

“That bad, huh?”

Being with Ellie is freeing. That’s the best way to describe it.

She knows. Damian surprised even himself when he told her—not about the others, mind, but he supposes it’s not hard to put two and two together and Dani has always been smarter than most—but it’s the best decision he’s ever made, and no matter what the niggling little voice in the back of his head says (the one that sounds suspiciously like Father), he can’t bring himself to regret it.

He won’t. Because having Ellie know gives him freedom.

She’s a safe place, a hand to hold, a warm, welcoming presence when things inevitably turn ugly. It’s the freedom to just be normal when everything else in his life spirals into stranger and more stressful missions.

“Richard is being insufferable again. I do not understand his incessant need to know everything about my life.”

“Oh? What’s he done now?” 

“I was subjected to an hour long interrogation about my love life, like it’s any of his business. It’s infuriating!”

“Ugh, tell me about it. I get the same thing from Jazz, constantly. It can be suffocating.” Ellie says as she curls herself tighter into his side. “But it’s just how they show they care.”

“Yes, well, sometimes I wish he wouldn’t—”

“Hey!” Ellie pushes herself up to glare at him, punctuating her shout with a soft whack to his arm for good measure. “What have I said about using that word?”

“Yes, yes,” he placates with a roll of his eyes, “‘Be careful what you wish for.’ I apologise, it won't happen again.”

“Damn straight it won't.”

She maintains eye contact with him for a second longer before tucking herself back into his side, squirming around with a long, contented hum that Damian can feel rumble through him. He smiles and doesn’t complain even when he has to shift to give her more room after a particularly strong elbow jabs him in the ribs. It means leaving the warm patch on the couch, but he’s rewarded with another long, happy moan as she settles and Damian can’t bring himself to mind.

Ellie constantly makes noises. Little mews and hums and laughs and songs known only to her. It reminds him of a cat, sometimes. He likes it. It calms him down; it means she’s happy, so he's happy.

They settle back into the cushions and Damian lets the subject drop, not wanting to spoil the moment. Outside, the wind changes direction and from where he’s laying he can watch as the snow starts to come down thick and heavy. Hopefully it’ll mean a quiet night's patrol.

“Is that why you haven’t introduced me yet?”

“What?” He can't help it, he stiffens at the thought of losing his secret, of the scrutiny he'll be inviting if he lets anyone know.

“Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”

Damian’s eyes snap down quick to reassure her, only to see her light, teasing grin. He lets out a breath of relief. It figures she wouldn't worry about that.

“Of course not, don’t be absurd. You could never embarrass me.”

“I don’t know,” she muses, her voice taking on a dangerous lilt, “that sounds like a challenge.”

“Believe me, having been subjected to Father’s Brucie persona at every gala I’ve been to, it would take a lot to embarrass me.”

“Alright, bet. I’ll get you, just you wait.”

“You’ve already got me.”

She flicks him on the nose. “You’re such a sap.”

He hums his agreement, enjoying the tinkling sound of her laughter. And then, before he can think otherwise, he asks, “Is that why you haven’t introduced me?”

“That’s different,” she scowls. “You know how hard it is to get there, there’s no signal, and Danny only gets a break like—oh, Ancients!”

Damian gets another elbow to the ribs as she bolts upright, a manic grin on her face that has him laughing.

“What is it?”

“It’s the holidays! It’s nearly Truce Day! You know I said I had a family thing around Christmas?”

“Yes?” 

“Well, do you want to come to it? I can introduce you then! I mean, it’s going to be a bit formal and you’ll have to meet everyone, not just family. There’s going to be some banquets, you’ll have to sit through some long speeches and you have to be on your best behaviour at all times, okay? Absolutely no fighting, it’s called Truce Day for a reason!”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’ll be perfect! I think Jazz is going in a couple days earlier to help with the preparations, so I’ll get her to let Danny know—and fair warning, he will try to give you the shovel talk, but this is great! It’s Truce Day, so he can’t actually do anything about it!”

“I’m sorry, but you're going to have to explain a bit.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much—but that’s family, right? Danny can get pretty protective over me, which is why going on Truce Day is the best time to do it! He can’t even command the Fright Knight to stab you! It’s genius!”

“Ellie, what?”

“Like, yeah, sure, he’s the king, but even he has to obey the rules of Truce Day—and then once you’ve spent all day with him, he’ll see that you’re a fantastic, wonderful, kind, brilliant, smart, strong, capable person and he’ll get over himself and everything will be good!"

Damian collapses down onto the couch, the wind knocked out of him. This is… He had not expected anything like this at all. For all that Ellie talked about her family, she had never mentioned this.

“Did you… did you say your brother is a king?”

“Yeah! High King Phantom, have I…” The manic grin slips off her face as she turns round and notices Damian. “Have I not mentioned that before?”

“No. No, you have not.”

“Ah. Sorry. Probably should clarify that I’m also a princess.”

“Right. Yes, that follows.”

“And I’m not really his sister, I’m his clone.”

“What?”

Damian blinks and tries to say more, but he has no idea what he’s meant to do with… any of this information. 

Normal. He thought she was meant to be his normal. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Not that it changed anything, of course, of that he was certain. It’s just… a lot to take in. Overwhelming. But it's okay! He takes a deep breath, and another, and a sense of calm washes over him. Ellie makes one of her little hums as she cocks her head to the side to consider him and he can't help but relax at the normalcy of the sound. It'll be okay, he's dealt with stranger and he can deal with this.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve told you that we’re half ghosts, though, right?”

“What?”

[minimoxha]

Kinktober 2023- THE ALBUM

⌆ sᴏɴɢ ᴏɴᴇ- ᴏʀɢᴀsᴍ ᴅᴇɴɪᴀʟ

⌆ ғᴛ: sʜɪɢɪʀᴀᴋɪ, ʙᴏɴᴅᴀɢᴇ, ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴɢ, ᴏᴠᴇʀsᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ,

ENJO

"Stop struggling ; it won't change the fact that you're in punishment," Shigiraki whispered, leaning into the girl's personal space. She could feel his presence even though she couldn't see him because of the blindfold that he had covered her eyes with. Even though his voice was raspy enough to make it seem like he wasn't as severe or as mature as he thought, she was the only one who knew that this tone meant business with her.

She shuddered as four fingers pried her legs open and tied them to the chair to which her hands were already tied. The woman let out a light moan, the entire situation making her cunt drip all over the chair. The way his hands sensually moved across her body as carefully as possible, decaying her clothes and tying her in intricate knots, gave her a rush of adrenaline that quickly sent a signal to her pussy. Shigiraki dug his fingers into her leaking cunt, giving the girl some pleasure before quickly removing them. She whined; the loss of pleasure being extremely unpleasant in her current state. He continued with that for a bit, fingering her in order to give her a false sense of pleasure before pulling out and sucking her juices off his fingers. When finally, she got tired of the overwhelming emptiness and started to beg the man. “Please- Please let me cum. I need to cum.” Her voice echoed throughout the room, the other villains outside could probably hear her pleas but she didn’t care. The only thing that went through her head was receiving the orgasm she ever so desired. To him, her begging was so fucking pathetic.

“You keep begging me to make you cum, it’s pathetic.” He sighed in between his words. “I guess i have to allow you to cum on my cock, hm?” His words excited her, her pussy growing wetter now as she awaited his cock to enter. He filled her up completely and then waited in her, waiting for her to beg for his cock. She did and he started with brutal thrusts. With every thrust, his cock dug into her walls, making his claim to her with his precum and her juices mixed together in her pussy. His brutal pace and his finger on her clit, rubbing it at the same pace he fucked her with was enough to bring her to orgasm. But before bliss could watch over the girl and she could feel the beat orgasm she had ever felt; the man stoped his assault on her body. In seconds, all of her pleasure was taken from he and she felt empty.

“What? I was so close!” She whined, so sexually pent up that she could burst. With all the ability she had while being tied to the chair she started to thrust her body up, begging for the man to do more even if it was just fingering her sloppy cunt. Shigaraki looked at the way she begged and let out a laugh before leaning down to the height she was in the chair and whispering into her ear. “I know you didn’t think i’d let you cum that easily.”

If she had the ability to let her eyes widen, they would’ve because deep down Y/n knew what kind of trouble she was in. It’s funny how that only settled into her mind now, not when she was flirting and playing around with other people. This was going to be a long night…

[akazzzaa]

hey there. I hope you are doing well and having a nice day or night.

this is my first request made and i read some of your writings which is really cool.

Anyway, I was hoping if you can do the Hashiras (you can chose which hashira) and/or Kamaboko squad member(s) reacting to reader who is childish in a way and doesn't take things seriously in a way. Though when it comes to slaying demons/having to go to a hashira meeting, the reader becomes more serious and their tone of voice changes. Which surprises (hashira/kamaboko squad member).

Hello thank you! I'm having a good day and I hope you are too : ) Thank you for enjoying my writing!

Summary- Reactions to reader being childish then serious when the situation calls for it

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None

Tengen Uzui

Tengen is amused by the your silliness, finding it endearing and refreshing. He appreciates your lighthearted nature and you both can be silly together. However, as he spends more time with you, he begins to see the depth and strength hidden behind your playful facade. This realization intrigues him, and he becomes increasingly drawn to your serious side. As their relationship deepens, he finds their balance of silliness and seriousness to be a perfect complement to his own personality.

Shinobu Kocho

She appreciates your ability to bring lightheartedness into such a cruel world. However, one day, during a mission, when your goofiness temporarily fades as you both face a life-threatening situation. Shinobu is pleasantly surprised by your sudden shift to a serious and determined attitude, which only deepens her admiration for your resilience and strength.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro Rengoku initially finds your silly antics quite amusing. He appreciates your lighthearted spirit and even shares a few chuckles and remarks. However, when your demeanor suddenly shifts to seriousness, Kyojuro is taken aback but also deeply impressed. He admires your ability to adapt and be focused when the situation demands it, and he finds your balance of playfulness and determination to be endearing. In those moments, he sees a unique strength in you that he truly respects.

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu Tomioka is initially taken aback by your silly and carefree nature, finding it hard to understand your lighthearted approach to life. He often sighs at your antics. However, one day, during a particularly dangerous mission, your sudden seriousness and determination in the face of danger surprises Giyu, making him appreciate your strength and dedication even more.

Tanjiro Kamado

Tanjiro Kamado finds your silliness endearing but perplexing. He admires your ability to find joy in even the most dire situations. But when you reveal your true depth and seriousness, Tanjiro is impressed by your inner strength and determination. He realizes that beneath the playful exterior, you possesses a strong sense of purpose and unwavering resolve, deepening his respect and admiration for you

Zenitsu Agatsuma

Zenitsu Agatsuma often finds himself playing along with you and you both get to have a lot of fun together. He starts to appreciate your ability to bring joy and laughter into his life when everyone and everything seems so scary and serious for him. One day, when you suddenly becomes serious and focused on a demon, Zenitsu is taken aback by your sudden determination and strength. He realizes that beneath your silly exterior, there's a hidden reservoir of courage, which inspires him to be more serious and resolute when it truly matters.

Inosuke Hashibira

Inosuke Hashibira initially finds the your silliness irritating and confusing. He often wonders why you don't take things more seriously. However, over time, he starts to appreciate your lightheartedness and realizes that it brings balance to his intense personality. Eventually, he becomes more open to your silliness and even joins in on your antics, creating a unique bond that allows both of you to express your serious and silly sides when needed.

Thank you! Hope you enjoy!

[cupidsrrott]

Hi i would like to request a neymar x reader where the reader and neymar like the reporter of psg and one day one of the player in the other team say something perv about the reader and neymar get angry and get into a fight with him .And i just wanted to say that i really liked your story with joão .

𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖; NEYMAR JR.

𝙄𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃, they’re in a relationship that hasn’t been shared with anyone yet until a certain comment has been made by a player on the opposing team.

author’s note; i hope you don’t mind if i changed a detail or so. but i hope this is what you were somewhat hoping for! and thank you so much that means a lot!! (p.s this is not proofread and neither was jungle, so there will be some errors so sorry!)

“Yes, they looked great Gio” I told my cameraman through my phone referring to the clips he sent of the team and some of me last night as I was sat in the car on the way to the stadium. “Okay that’s great so you’re all good for me to send them over?” “Yes, 100 percent I’m all for it, thank you” I told me with a smile.

“Yeah no problem! I gotchu love” he laughed a little through the phone. “I’ll see you in a bit before the match yeah?” “Of course I’ll see you there and I have some notes that I want us to go over.” I told him pointedly as he let out a grumble of a few words.

“Alright, alright see you” “see you” I replied hanging up the phone. I searched through the bag quite violently for my notebook and pen hoping I placed it in my bag last night. “You alright meu amor?” Asked Neymar who was driving the both of us to the stadium.

I didn’t answer for a moment until I found what I was looking for. I let out a breath “uh yeah, yes, yes everything is okay” my ragged breathing became steady after a moment. “Always so worried” he said with a shake of his head a small smile toying on his lips.

“I have every reason to be, also remember-” “remember to use the back exit because no one should see us together” he interrupted saying my little bit that I tell him quite often. “Alright, alright anyways how do you feel about the match?” I asked him putting a fake microphone to him.

“Good” he shrugged simply, I was always the anxious wreck with a conscious. While he went head first into everything no second thought. “Well that’s good I suppose, not nervous at all?” “Not one bit” “Okay, okay” I chuckled a little. As he grabbed my hand in his placing a sloppy kiss on it.

I immediately retracted “you are so gross!” I laughed amusingly as I wipe my hand while he giggled to himself about his antics. I then pull his hand into my lap keeping both hands clasped against his one. We then just watched as buildings and structures zoomed past us as we finally made our way to the stadium.

Neymar drove towards the secluded back exit and we made our scheduled walk down separating from each other him to his team and me to mine. But he didn’t leave me without a kiss to my temple and a whisper of endearment. I found my usual way to Gio and some team co-reporters.

We were on the pitch and I talked about said notes earlier to Gio and the others. And we finally began to commence with the production. Gio held a thumbs up as I began to introduce and speak to those watching.

While doing so I could feel eyes on me but the stadium was only starting to fill up and my co-workers were busy amongst themselves. While speaking to the camera as I didn’t leave my eyes off of it. I found in the corner of my eye a player on the opposing team parallel to me and his raked over me.

I held my composure until my very last word, the player finally leaving. I gulped as Gio finally held his thumb up signalling I was good to end there. I looked to where the player once was shuddering a little and went through the scripture that I was supposed to base today’s production off of.

I interviewed a few players whilst on the pitch and planned to do so after the anthem during warm ups for a minute update on how they felt pre match. These were my favourite of days I enjoyed game days even if I was all over the place and my nerves were everywhere. But they typically did bring me joy especially post match (if we won of course).

We finally ended warm up interviews and I said my lines before I transitioned into the focus of another reporter. Sighing I fixed my mini skirt as I watched both teams warm up on either side of the field. I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear as I focused on Neymar.

Whom was running with ball and passed it to a team mate who then continued with drill and Neymar ended the warm up drill by shooting in the net. Smiling afterwards revealing all his teeth and I couldn’t help but smile at him.

Neymar catching me through eye contact gave me a small wink unbeknownst to anyone catching it, as I shook my head in amusement. Neymar continued with the warm ups alongside his teammates and I took a glance over to the other side.

Seeing the same player with the number 12 on his jersey look me up in down with a smirk at the end. I turned away from him and tucked myself away into the building to prepare for the match notes I need to take on my laptop. But not without a little smile to say good luck to Neymar whom a immediately caught it and nodded his head with a grin response.

I sat behind glass windows reporters from sports channels and the other teams reporters sat along there as well. As we saw a clear view of the field and everyone in the stands. Soon after my fellow reporters for PSG found me and took their seats.

“I hope they win this one” “I have my fingers crossed” said my co-workers as I looked up from my laptop with a tight lipped smile. As I just waited for the match to commence.

—

NEYMAR

My breath was ragged as I continued my chase with the ball towards the net but I didn’t let anything stop me. Dodging some players and a rainbow later I shot my shot to the net and successfully made it in. Running with excitement I celebrated with my teammates.

Patting my back as everything died down slightly we went to our respective positions. And the game went back into play. As we were playing number 12 on the other team was on my back up until half time, even after the many times I shrugged him off he wouldn’t get off of me.

But I myself let it go knowing this was the sport. Once half time had ended the score read 2-3 in our favour. I just needed to see Y/n’s face before we started again just a look but I knew I couldn’t. I knew she could see me through the reporters area but I just needed to see her for myself.

As I had the neon vest on to signify that I wasn’t on yet, I looked to my side seeing 12 hoping slightly to warm up and then turn his neck to result in cracking it. I looked away and put my focus on the match in front of me waiting to be put on again.

And finally I was eventually put on the field number 12 also made his way up onto the field. As we stood quite close to each other in order to defend the ball. We waited for the referee to call and a mere minute before he blew his whistle.

“Hey you know that fine ass reporter you got. Y/n right? She got an ass I’d hit” he said smugly into my ear the whistle was then heard but I couldn’t careless and neither could he. “The fuck you just say?” I said as I turned my jaw clenching so tightly I felt like I was seeing red and I got closer to him getting to somewhat eye level.

He was most definitely taller but he made himself much taller by puffing his chest out. “What? You can have her first man. I’ll take her next” he shrugged like what he was saying had no value. I shoved him hard as he stumbled a little backwards. He balanced himself out and shoved me right back.

That was when I threw a punch to his jaw causing him to fall backwards. Ready to throw some more punches and I was even ready to step on this asshole’s face with my cleat. But before doing so I was pulled away by Hugo, a fellow forward on my team.

The ref made his way over raising up a red card, I sighed loudly through my noise. There was a slight crowd of both teams forming us but everyone was definitely in earshot. “Tell Y/n once she’s bored of you to call me up, I’ll give her what she needs in every way.”

He said from the ground as he fixed his jaw a little, I loosened myself from Hugo’s grip about to throw another punch at him but was caught again by the ref this time as he pushed me back. “Fuck you!” I shout at him as he stood up pushing past my team and his as all I could really see was red.

My jaw was clenched as I pushed the referees arm off of my chest and made it back to the sidelines on my team’s side who looked at me in shock at the information that was just shared about Y/n and I. I kept my jaw clenched as I was being filmed and knowing full well the news about Y/n and I was being shared at this very moment.

—

I gulped still in shock at what happened on the pitch today it was now almost 9 o’clock the sun was completely set and was now pitch black. I unlocked the door to my apartment Neymar following behind me still silent just like car ride back. Locking the door behind me I then placed my bag on the kitchen island.

While Neymar went into the bathroom slamming the door shut as the shower was heard a moment after. I was still left in the dark about what was said on the pitch. The news of Neymar and I had been leaked during the red card. But why Neymar threw a punch couldn’t have been because of this reason.

I sighed before running a hand across my face, I went into my bedroom changing into much comfier clothes. As I walked out from my walk in closet I was face with Neymar in solely just sweats which I assumed he pulled out from my dresser before going to the bathroom.

He took a spot on his side of the bed, I tilted my head to the side looking at him with sympathetic eyes. As he refused to meet my eyes I walked over to him placing my hands steadily on his shoulders. Refusing to look up at me I started to speak, “do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“It isn’t important” he shrugged I wrapped my arms around his neck as I stood in between his legs. “Yes it is, you broke that guys jaw” I swallowed still in disbelief. As he only looked the wall in front of him trying his very best to mask his emotions, if I hadn’t known him I wouldn’t of said anything. But I knew better.

“Neymar” I said softly stroking his cheek with my thumb as my hand cupped his cheek and then moved his face so I could see his eyes. “Why?” I asked simply continuing to hold his face in now both of my hands. “He was saying shit about you” he admitted after moment of silence.

“So I wasn’t gonna sit there and take it you know I mean he was disrespecting you in every goddamn way possible.” He spat now holding onto my waist, “you know you’re my girl, I’m not gonna let anyone say shit about you. Even if it causes broken bones, meh amor. I’m always gonna be by your side.”

Placing a kiss to the top of his head he spoke lowly “you’re not mad?” “No I’m not mad” I told him speaking into his freshly showered hair. He pulled me into him securing the grip around me as his hand rested on the small of my and held his head to my stomach as I kept my head on top of his kissing it once more. The both of us remaining in this position for a few minutes of silence.

I pulled back a little to straddle his waist and kept my arms wrapped around his neck and his hands remained firmly on the small of my back. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck giving it a small kiss as well. “Thank you” I whispered “What?” He replied quite shocked.

“Just thank you he obviously didn’t say anything good about me to have you break his jaw. So thank you for doing that for me” I said softly playing with the hair at the back of his head. “You don’t have to thank me meu amor I’ll always be there for you” his accent thick as he said this. As I then smiled into the crook of his neck.

[holylulusworld]

top three fics you've writen that you enjoed writing?

&

3 that you wished would have gotten more love?

Hi, lovely. 💗

Let's see...top three (notes)

Don’t fear your kinks Masterlist This one is still ongoing. I'm working on the next parts. Dean Winchester x Reader explore different kinks.

Ours Hmm...one of my fav Steve x Reader x Bucky a/b/o stories.

Babysitter for one night Dean Winchester, a bratty reader. What can go wrong?

_____

The ones I wished people had gotten more love.

Deep Abyss masterlist I stepped out of my comfort zone and wrote a new ship for this one (Winterbones). I really like writing for them but, people don't seem to like it because there is no reader insert.

A new dimension of crazy Masterlist This one was a request. It's crazy. It's different. People didn't like this one.

Darkness and Light Curtis my beloved. I had this idea for years. YEARS! I love this story with all my heart. People didn't show much love to it, and sadly, I lost the motivation to share more for a very long time.

[unpopularbunny]

Heeeeeyyyy been hitting rock bottom, but it still has a bottom 💃

Did my best for yandere kirishima 🗿

You already know what it is: chubby reader, everyone is 18+, lmk if you want a part two, not beta read so pls don’t @ me about mistakes or I’ll throw up and cry. Reblogging makes u sexy and irresistible 👁️ 👄 👁️

Minors stay in the mines pls.

(This lowkey got away from me so readmore.)

🌺 🌸 🌺

Kirishima never thought he could have a fanclub

He always saw those endeavor fans and groupies as….kinda cringe. The way they’d wear shirts with his face plastered on them and gush and squeal when endeavor would grace them with his presence and do meet and greets. The mere crumb of attention to them and they were stoking endeavors ego like no tomorrow. He was genuinely curious as to why the seasoned hero would give them any form of fuel to keep up ridiculous obsessions.

When he got the confidence to do it, he asked him why he even gave them attention and gratification, he was met with a deep rumbling chuckle.

‘You’re young kid, wait till you get a fanclub.’

He laughed with him, albeit a bit nervously, but doubted he’d ever find the real charm in a fanclub.

That was until he had one of course, all it took was you.

You were the head of his first fanclub, so short and precious in his eyes. You approached him after he’d saved some kids and asked him for an autograph. Your eyes were glittery and face deeply flushed as you held out a framed photo of him shamelessly. It was off putting at first but the way you were borderline cardiac arrest when his fingertips brushed yours. It Made his smile twitch at the corner. He played it cool, asked your name, you sputtered it out and then boldly added that you were the head of the first official red riot fanclub!

He almost choked on the air he was breathing.

Maybe endeavor had a point.

He sought you out first, finding your website and reaching out to arrange a meet and greet, what kind of pro hero would he be if he didn’t show love to his most loyal fans?

Despite your and embarrassing collection of red riot merchandise (don’t worry! You made sure to hide the body pillow under your bed!!), kirishima found himself on your couch with you firing out meet and greet dates and plans. You chattered so endlessly and freely, injecting facts about him here and there that he didn’t even notice himself (it honestly made him feel so….exposed and vulnerable.). When it got too late he let himself out but promise you two would come to an agreement of something.

Late night patrol felt longer than usual, he kept thinking about you and all the hard work you put into knowing him, noticing him. He’d never had someone be so….. infatuated. He felt kind of bad, you’d put so much effort into knowing him and yet….all he knew of you was your name and main interest: Him.

It was so rude of him, he had to make an effort!

So in an attempt to match your enthusiasm, he did a little….harmless recon.

For the next two weeks every spare moment was spent watching and noting when you left, where you went, your job, your friends, and when you went to bed. It wasn’t weird!!! The way you’d draw your curtains before going to shower and open them back up after you’d finished. He saw almost every expression you could make; the joy of scoring an ultra rare edition red riot figure, the anger of losing a betting war on eBay, the way you’d stomp your way home after a long horrible day at work, and even the way you’d cry at a sad movie. Your laugh was getting to be intoxicating and don’t think he missed the times when you’d cuddle up nice and tight to that body pillow. Where the hell did you even get that?

He had to know more about you-

Not in a weird way! He just wanted to be kind to his number one fan! You worked so very hard for him and he took it to heart, there wasn’t anything wrong with giving you a little….special attention.

🌸 🌺 🌸

The first meet and greet went well! His fans were just as energetic as you and he genuinely enjoyed it. His fans weren’t like you though, they were nice of course, but they didn’t seem to pay attention to detail like you did. He shook hands, signed so many things his hand cramped and would every so often glance at you handing out free drinks and snacks. You looked so good in red, his red. You were dressed casually, a red riot shirt and some jeans. Like you were publicly claiming to belong to him.

He busied his mind with his fans and before long it was over and he had stayed to help clean, what hero wouldn’t? It was baffling the way you noticed all his little personality quirks and twitches but couldn’t notice when he was standing close enough to smell your sweet perfume.

You kept rambling off about how well he did in capturing the villain in last nights news, he was amazed at how you spoke so fast without tripping over words when he was around. At the small comment that he was proud of your improvement, your bashful reaction wasn’t missed on him. The way you were speechless for a moment, how you licked your lips and did everything possible to look anywhere that wasn’t him. Rambling about the work you’ve been putting in to be more worthy of being in the presence of red riot-

“Kirishima eijirou” he corrected.

“Huh?”

“You can call me by my name you know! We’re friends after all!” This only set your nerves more on fire.

“Okay….uh….Kiri-Kirishima” Your voice was so quiet, as if you felt like you were telling a secret. He took notice of this, how you seemed more….reserved? Bashful? He had to pull more from you.

It was brief but he reached for the same empty cup you did and let his fingertips brush along your hand, you snatched it back as if he’d burned you and apologized profusely. Almost as if you were….afraid? Not of him, of course not. This wasn’t fear…..what was this? Flushed face and nervous smile as you chattered away to drive attention away from the newfound contact.

He hadn’t seen this reaction before.

He liked this reaction….to him it was….borderline erotic.

He wanted to see much more.

You were too busy avoiding his face to notice the look he was giving you. His eyes were clouded and unwavering, boring into you in an unnerving manner. There was an odd feeling in his stomach that climbed to his chest and threatened to come out of his mouth as if he were throwing up. Kirishima almost reached for you, to do what? He has no fucking clue. He excused himself, saying he was paged by his manager regarding some brand deals. This wasn’t a complete lie, he did get the page, about two hours ago. Your smile was kind as you waved him off and said you could manage the cleaning by yourself. He had to get away from you. You were suffocating him.

Your voice, your smile, especially the way you acted around him. How desperate you seemed for his approval and praise. You worked so hard to impress him time and time again. It was all he could think about. It made his heart beat thump so loudly in his ears.

He ducked into the closest bathroom and did something so foul and shameless. He locked himself in the stall furthest from the door, muttering incoherent things under his breath. His shirt was pulled up an held there by his teeth while his hands undid his pants, his hands were sloppy and after two failed attempts he growled and yanked until the button snapped and fall somewhere he didn’t care for. He braced one hand on the wall next to him and the other to jerk himself off. He was thinking of the smile on your face, the bounce in your walk- fuck- the way you bounced when you had a good day- you, bouncing. He wanted to see you bouncing in his lap.

Or maybe underneath him, he could even fuck you on-top of your precious red riot body pillow. He wanted to trap you somewhere dark where no one could see the things he’d do to you, how deep he’d try to get himself inside of you. It would be too easy to have you all to himself whenever he wanted, his own personal fan that he could pump love into whenever you begged for it. He was trying so hard to keep his noises to his self, muffled whimpers and groans. Tears were brimming his eyes from overbearing stimulation but he couldn’t stop now, not like this, his mind was rushing.

You were his precious fan, a girl so blindly devoted to him without question. Sure, girls had confessed to him before and even slept with him, but it never lasted long and the more they found out about him the quicker they seemed to leave. Calling him immature and childish. But you. You knew endless things about him and still had the audacity to open those cute lips of yours and ask him questions while fluttering your eyelashes at him. He wants to know if you’d say his name if he had you helplessly pinned underneath him, if you could still list off his accomplishments while bouncing in his lap. He wanted to pinch and grope every part of your soft supple body he could get his hands on, he wanted to bite and suck on you in ways he could be arrested for just to see you cry or make a mess of yourself just for him-

His legs shook as he came, he was doing his best not to pse right then and there as he came down from the rush of adrenaline. What the fuck was his problem? What had he just done? He’d hardly ever touched you and here he was like some deranged pervert, hunched over in a public bathroom with his shirt in his mouth fisting his cock to the mere thought of something that would never happen. The shame set in and he wanted to apologize to you but how the fuck could he even do that? ‘My bad, I jerked it in the bathroom to the though of your body that I’ve hardly ever seen before.’ ??? Then again, what harm could it really do? If you were such a devoted fan as you claimed, you wouldn’t think he was disgusting and weird. You’d embrace it and welcome him. You had to and he would make sure-

Kirishima jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket, it was texts and missed calls from his manager. He cursed and called his manager back post haste. He did his best to clean up whatever mess he left while his manager chewed his ear out for ignoring him. It was all in one ear out the other as kirishima dumbly apologized inbetween rants. He was only partially listening, he was back to reflecting on you, he realized something.

He had no idea what your quirk was.

In all the days and hours he spent doing his ‘innocent’ recon, he’d never once seen you use or do anything that would indicate what your quirk would be. He didn’t want to outright ask you, that would be so very rude of him! He’d have to figure it out somehow, mostly so he could know how vulnerable you really were-Not that he was planning to do anything to you, nothing bad of course.

He just wanted to know more about you.

🌺 🌸 🌺

Around the corner from the bathroom that kirishima had just exited, you stood with your hands clasped so tightly around your mouth and nose you were suffocating yourself. Your eyes were wide and you had no idea what the fuck you’d just heard. You were leaving the conference room to find more cleaning spray when you’d heard something…..something you don’t think you were supposed to hear.

You weren’t a hero because 1. You never wanted to be and 2. You didn’t think ‘super hearing’ had an actual use in the hero field other than espionage. It took you years to learn how to ‘tone the noise down’ to manageable levels that didn’t give you ample opportunity to listen to others conversations. You could still let go of the hold you had on it to let yourself relax, mostly when you were alone.

Like when kirishima left.

As soon as you were in the hall and rounded the corner you could hear something….lewd. Panting, wet noises, muffled moans, ect… It wasn’t like you’d never…seen porn. You knew sex noises when you heard them. You were frozen where you stood, to your left was the door to the mens bathroom. There was no way. Who had the audacity to be so vulgar and disgusting in a public setting? You had half a mind to get your phone and alert the authorities. The only thing that held you back was that the voice sounded….familiar. It sounded kind of like-

There was no way-

Absolutely not-

He wouldn’t-

Kirishima was not like that.

He was good, pure, and heroic-

And cumming in a public bathroom stall like a pervert.

You weren’t sure how to feel, honestly, why the fuck was he even doing it???? You listened to him pant and catch his breath and when you heard movement you darted back around the corner you came from. You pressed yourself against the wall and covered your mouth with both hands to stifle any chance he could hear you breathing. He answered a phone call, his manager was mad he ignored his page two hours ago? Didn’t his manager just page him? Why would he lie to you? Your face felt so hot and you were so very, very confused.

After hearing the door open and close, you waited a bit before lowering your hands and taking a deep breath to keep from passing out. You still needed to find that cleaner so you waited a bit longer before trying to go back around the corner, there wasn’t any time to dwell on what you’d just heard, nor was it even your business.

Upon turning the corner you were cut off by him. When you dared look up, you wished you hadn’t. He was still on his phone but the expression on his face was as if he couldn’t hide his joy and glee at seeing you. His smile twitching at the edge and spark in his eye that threatened to incinerate. You took one step back, he took one forward, why did you feel so scared? He was a top ten hero, he was your number 1 hero. He saved countless lives and was a shining beacon of camaraderie and bro-ness! Right now he didn’t resemble anything like a hero.

“My bad man, I gotta go! Something came up, I’ll make it up to you I promise.” He didn’t wait for a response and hung up, how did you not hear him??

“I-I’m so sorry-“

“What are you sorry for sweetheart? Did you do something wrong?” He sounded…threatening, “Did something happen?” He leaned down and was so close.

“No it- it’s just I thought-“

“You thought what?” He was pushing you too say it, to mark you squirm. Your fight or flight was in high gear now and you itched to take off running.

“I thought I had enough c-cleaner but I ran out so I came to get more.” Pleasebuyitpleasebuyitpleasebuyit-

“Ohhh,” He leaned back and you exhaled, “Well let me get outta your way so you can get back to it then” He smiled and you gave a nervous smile back before he left.

Once you were absolutely sure that you were finally alone, you collapsed against the wall and let out a breath you were holding. What even was that? What was with the look on his face? You shook your head and continued on your search for cleaner, you had to keep your mind occupied so you didn't dwell on whatever just happened.

just....what the fuck???

[thesmutsworld]

HONEYMOON

It was the night of your honey moon.

You and Jeff had been in love since middle school , but after the accident , It was difficult to understand that he was now different.

You guys arrived at your new house , tired from the wedding ceremony.

You went to bed and changed into a black and tight night dress.

Your now husband came into the room and slowly hugging your from behind.

"See my dear…i kept my promise even after the accident"

He began to kiss your neck and your shoulders.

He left wet kisses along your neck and shoulders.

His kisses turned into bites and from bites…became hickeys.

He left bite marks along your neck.

"oh baby…you're getting me so worked up"

"shall we take this on the bed?"

"gladly my love"

He throw you on the bed , pinning you down on the bed.

His hand slowly moved down your dress and moving up to your breast , squeezing It gently.

You moaned as his hands went lower.

He took of your dress and you were in your underwear.

He got undressed and he was in his boxers too.

He took of your bra and kisses your tits…biting them without mercy.

He licked down to your sensitive flesh as he started rubbing his finger against the fabric of your underwear

He took them off and gently started to lick and kiss your flesh.

You moans grew louder as Jeff was enjoing your moans.

"fuck baby…let me use myself…let me fuck you well"

You couldn't answer due your panting but you nodded in respons.

He slowly penetrates you sensitive flesh and started to move inside of you.

His thrusts were so fast and hard that you could barelly think.

His moves melted your thoughts, his hands wandered up and down your chest and thighs.

He starts kissing you again and spanks you playfully only to make you moan and stick his tongue in your mouth.

"oh my love…you're so tight"

He stops kissing you and starts biting your neck.

Your moans got louder every time his teeth dug into your skin.

Your nails left marks on his skin, his voice sounding hoarse from his moans.

After minutes and minutes of this, he came into you, I had screamed a moan together and you were both tired.

"thank you my love…"

"you're welcome my dear"

And with that you fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, resting after a pretty intense make out session.

[taradiddled]

Porny sneak-peek. ALMOST finished with this chapter. Probably be done by tomorrow night. Maybe. Don't hold me to that.

—

"I love you," she said against his chin, placing a kiss there. "I love you," she said to the nape of his neck. "I fucking love you," she hissed to his chest, right at the center, her teeth nibbling at the alabaster-white flesh, mouth sucking to leave behind an orange-flushed hickey, and a moaning King of Hell, who had to relinquish his hold on Adam to dig his claw-like fingers into the bedding upon which he lay.

"Fuck, I love you, too," Lucifer panted, red eyes boring into Adam with utter refusal to look away. Adam had never felt so seen, straddling the King of Hell's waist, half-naked, her hair a mess, and yet, feeling so utterly beautiful. She ducked back down to Lucifer's mouth to sear a kiss upon his lips, moaning in tandem when Lucifer released his hold on the bedding, instead grabbing Adam's shoulders and reeling her in even closer (if such a thing was even possible with the way their bodies were pressed together).

This kiss was wet, their tongues twining, with Lucifer's serpentine tongue brushing against Adam's canines in the process, swiping along every inch of Adam's mouth. He still tasted of their meal's spices -- apples and cinnamon and something spicy that was wholly Lucifer in every way.

His hands slipped from Adam's shoulders, down to her breasts, which he cupped ever-so-carefully through the shirt's fabric, mindful of their sensitivity. His fingers then traced down Adam's sides, until they dropped to the hem of Adam's shirt.

"Nice design," he commented, looking at the front of the shirt. He read the lettering, grinning salaciously. "I think I will duck you."

Adam groaned, rolling her eyes. "Took you long enough." She raised her arms over her head to help Lucifer take the shirt off her, the king tossing the shirt somewhere on the floor once Adam was free of it. He took a good, long, awe-filled look upon Adam's body, from her breasts, to belly, all round from bearing their son. He careful ran his hands down her front, pausing at her breasts. Lucifer was delicate as he brushed his fingers across the soft flesh, tweaking her nipples, before his hands continued traveling down.

"All mine," he hissed, starting to kiss Adam. He kissed her as if she might perspire if Lucifer stopped kissing her, their mouths only parting the barest meters to let pass little moans and sighs, just enough space for oxygen to enter. "My mistress. My partner. My Ada." His next kiss lasted longer, with Lucifer leaning back towards the bed, slowly lowering himself down, taking Adam with him. She followed willingly, knees pushing into the bedding, her belly pressing against Lucifer's torso, her back having to hunch slightly so their mouths could continue their frenzy. One of his hands snack back around her waist, clenching one of her buttocks, and encouraging to start thrusting against his clothed dick, her own sliding against his still-vested chest, the texture of his clothing rubbing against Adam's cock.

"Oh fuck," Adam moaned, moving her hips faster to pick up more friction. "Get the fuck out of those stupid pants so I can ride you already."

Lucifer huffed out a laugh, continuing to encourage Adam's movement. "As my mistress wishes." With the snap of his fingers, his clothing vanished, and he was as naked as Adam. His dick out of its clothing restraints, it knocked right into Adam's crotch, brushing against her folds, right to the tip. Adam had to restrain herself from grinding down against it, eager to get Lucifer inside of her already. But she wasn't going to do that unless Lucifer made a move. This was about him, after all, and Adam had been learning to be a more gracious partner.

Still, she rubbed herself against Lucifer's cock, wetting it, as well as dripping a little cum from her dick onto his chest.

Fuck. She was ready to go.

"You going to fuck me, Your Majesty?" The answer was obvious, but Adam and Lucifer both enjoyed the dirty talk.

Peeling his eyes from Adam's breasts, moving practically in his face, Lucifer's eyes went straight to meet Adam's, a naughty smile curling on the King of Hell's mouth. His hands went to Adam's waist, gripping her there.

[averysillyhexagon]

I think I've finally been a JSaB/TPC fan for a full year!

Lemme tell yall the story.

One night me and my Little Sister and I were watching some cookie run kingdom animations Brittany made

My sister opened up her channel to watch more cookie run animation cuz I loved em.

Looking thru her channel to find more CRK vids, my eyes caught the "Circubits Past" video, and I was interested.

The next day, I was playing outside, and I watched the video (I absolutely loved it!)

Around my bedtime, before I went to sleep, I watched episode 1 and got obsessed

The next day, a friend of mine came over, and I was binge watching it (I skipped episode 2 around that time 🙏)

A few days later, I showed my lil' sister the series, and while I was doing my schoolwork (she was on the episode with the quintagon song, I forgot which episode it was) and I told her about the "Quintagon Song" being in the episode, and she LOVED the song.

Getting into the month of September (or beginning of October) I discovered JSaB, I watched the recommended gameplay and LOVED the music, I cried thru dome parts (like the after Close To Me Song and Before/During Till its Over), In about October, I discovered TikTok! I made my first video on Halloween (It was just a happy halloween post). I cosplayed Cubic on halloween because I discovered ItzFriday's JSaB cosplay videos, me and my lil' sister, and I would pretend to make our on lil fan stories in their way, We played as Cubic and Iris.

In November, I discovered some cool roblox games and enjoed em (I started playing roblox around the summertime after not playing for a few years)

In December, I found out JSaB was on switch, so for starters, I got the demo, and it was fun. My lil' sister got the game too, and we helped each other thru the "Hard songs." I was the first sibling to beat the demo

Around New years, I got a Micro SD card (my switch data was corrupted at the time) and a 20 dollar bill, and before countdown my mom bought me and my lil' sister the game, I hopped straight into "Party Mode" while my lil' sister just played the story until Close to me because it was hard for her.

And there's, more to the story, but my fingers are tired.

[zhouxiangs]

get to know the blogger

tagged by @gaym3bo1 🤍 and a bunch of other people i forgot, i've been saving my tag games for months and now i can't find half of them but i remember this one was there at least twice </3

last song:

(currently playing)

favourite colour: black and pink, but also lavender and teal

currently watching: 25 ji akasaka de (bc i haven't watched today's ep yet), club friday love bully, deep night the two of us, knock knock boys, love sea, my love mix-up!, my marvellous dream is you, my stand-in, sunset x vibes, the legend of heroes, wandee goodday, we are

sweet/savoury/spicy: a bit of everything ideally, but if i have to pick one savoury

relationship status: no

current obsession: my stand-in 🥹

currently reading: fangs (billy balibally), sukeban to tenkousei (fujichika), saezuru tori wa habatakanai (yoneda kou), usagi no mori (enjo), hikaru ga shinda natsu (mokumokuren), and i'm about to start my professional body double (shui qian cheng) reread <- for realsies this time

last thing i googled: the phone number that was calling me sdkfsjf

i think everyone has done this already, so feel free to consider yourself tagged if you want to do it 🤟🏻

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Broken promise

warning : hurt, angst, hurt/no comfort, tiny comfort, fluff, implied/referenced smut, mention of sex (fivesome), kissing, hugging, major character death, tw death, blood/wounds, no use of Y/n, emotional

Summary : You come back to Santa Carla after a trip to your parents' house. Your four friends have missed you and you have missed them too. A sweet reunion and a few events happen. But what happens when things are left unsaid? What happens when you don't tell everything? What happens when you make promises and they are...broken?

Poly!Lost Boys x fem reader

masterlist

Info : (Originally named Broken promises) I hope my dear reader you still like it, despite the hurtful things and enjoye the reading. I enjoed the writing but even I had to admit it, it was a though one. Have fun

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon shone especially brightly on the night of her arrival. The planet seemed to rejoice as well as the four vampires. They all knew that their beloved was coming back today. Knew that her heartbeat would fill them again. Knew that their beloved was finally coming back to Santa Carla. They could hardly wait. But the young woman at the wheel also drove faster than allowed down the long road towards her four friends.

She turned up her radio and listened to loud music and hummed. A smile played around her lips. She had been away too long to visit her family for a long time. She had stayed here for the last few years since she graduated from school and came back to her hometown for a few weeks to visit her parents.

It was a good time, no question, they had a lot to talk about, what the job was like, studying and of course if she had a boyfriend yet. You could say that, she had told her mother with a small, mischievous smile as she pushed the homemade muffin into her mouth. ,,You could say that," she muttered after her words and her finger tapped lightly on the steering wheel before she drove on faster. She still knew exactly where she was going, knew exactly where she had to go. Knew exactly that they would all be waiting for her.

The light shining from the front of her car illuminated the streets well. Even though she was not a creature of the night, she swore she could drive the roads better at night. It was easier, fewer people on the road and the night offered so much more. She didn't know what had happened in the last few weeks.

Didn't know about the new residents of Santa Carla. She didn't know what had happened. But she was sure that her four friends would tell her everything. She turned off the radio before parking her car near the entrance of the cave. She pulled out the key and took her small bag of clothes.

She hurriedly got out of the car and, with one last look up at the moon, went into the cave. She heard her footsteps echoing inside, as if she were chasing herself. But she knew it wasn't like that, knew that the cave had its own peculiarities.

She knew where she had to go. She had taken the path too often to stumble. Before, with one last big step and a leap, she finally reached the inside. The usual musty smell with its mix of leather, perfume, cool night air and metal was in the atmosphere. Nothing had changed. If anything, only more spider threads and pigeons had been added.

She looked around at the individual nests under mountains of pillows and blankets. But none of them seemed to be there. Not even Star and Laddie were there. Where are they? she asked herself, guessing that maybe they were out for a walk or on one of the rides. She was not a vampire, her heart was beating, her warm blood was flowing through her body and her teeth were not made for killing.

But still she could feel them watching her from the darkness. They seemed to be watching her as if they were trying to play with her. Testing how far they could go. You're welcome she thought and a smirk came to her lips before she put the bag down on the couch and positioned herself in front of the fountain. A little show couldn't hurt.

She knew the four of them were watching her, suppressing their lust and love for her. They only seemed to be waiting for something. She slowly took off her jacket and laid it carelessly on the edge of the fountain. Before she gradually felt the relative cold of the surroundings.

She felt the goose bumps spreading. ,,Is anyone here?" she asked playfully into the darkness, but heard only a giggle. Paul. She recognised the giggle above all. She had missed him and wanted to hold him in her arms again. She had missed his loving yet slightly clumsy romantic nature. She had missed them all. All of them.

Before she took off her thin jumper that was almost the last instance. Carelessly laying it on the edge, she wore only her thin top. Which clung to her upper body and yet gave a good view of her body underneath in the right moonlight.

Only a few moments later she saw a small flame flicker up, followed by smoke coming out of the darkness. David. The charismatic leader. She had almost missed the little smell of smoke that always seemed to be everywhere. She missed him, his laugh, his seductive words that made her heart beat faster.

Before she decided to let the boys wait a little longer. She moved to the edge of the fountain and walked a few laps around. Moving slightly spinning and slightly dancing as if she could hear the music on her radio. Moved her arms and hips slightly to it, got lost in a rhythm. Sinking into the melody of love. Saw a pair of eyes flash in the darkness. Dwayne. The black-haired tall quiet one.

She felt the intense gaze and a shudder go through her body. His looks always told her more than words, his looks had already persuaded her to do many things. Many things she inwardly wished she had done earlier. Before she moved on and her fingers played lightly with her hair.

Down to her neck where she felt her aorta. Before she saw the grin flash out of the darkness. Marko. The smallest and yet most bloodthirsty of the four. She had missed his way of showing her things that had evoked something in her. It was unbelievable.

They were all there. Wordlessly she turned one last time before spreading her arms and jumping backwards off the well. For a moment she felt herself fall before she felt the cold hands of the four vampires on her. ,,Coming straight into our arms, huh?" Marko said and grinned at her as the four of them lowered her to the ground and were finally together again. ,,I missed you all so much," she said, spreading her arms to simulate the need for a hug.

Before Paul was the first to throw himself into her arms followed by Marko and David who threw his cigarette away carelessly before the round was completed by Dwayne who hugged them all almost to death. But it did feel good. It was good to have their four friends with them again.

She seemed to finally feel her life through the others again. Their love was reunited. ,,The five of us together so close brings back sinful memories," she heard Paul, who was pressed closest to her. Before David laughed slightly, Dwayne sighed and Marko just grinned wider before they all broke away from the embrace. The four of them had not changed as they were immortal. They all still looked beautiful.

She felt Paul's hand still around her though. She had missed his hugs, his sweet and energetic way. She felt Marko playing with a strand of her hair and his fingers almost innocently stroking her neck every now and then. Saw that David already had a new cigarette between his lips and Dwayne didn't take his eyes off her.

They all hadn't changed. ,,We thought you weren't coming anymore," the leader said and she actually thought she saw something like worry flashing in his ice-blue eyes. She saw Paul nod and the other two seemed to agree. Her heart beat faster knowing that the four of them had missed her. It touched her. A soft smile came to her lips before she laid a hand gently on the leader's cheek. Cold. As always.

She took the cigarette from him, took a puff of her own before she said, ,,Did my boys miss me that much?" before she gave him a kiss. She felt him respond, a grin on his lips.

He deepened the kiss and seemed almost proud. As Marko tightened his grip on her hair and Paul's hands slowly moved over her body, she sighed. She had missed the touch of the four of them.

She lost herself in the kiss and wanted to get closer to David. Before Dwayne suddenly detached her from him and kissed her instead. More gently, less impetuously, and yet she felt goosebumps come over her body as she looked up at him. They all seemed so incredibly attractive. They always did.

Ever since she had run into the four of them and asked for a motorbike race with her car. Which she had almost won. But she had never drunk the blood from the bottle. She didn't want to, she loved life. She loved to have a heartbeat and to be really alive. She would decide for herself when she wanted to be transformed.

But she was torn from her kiss when she felt Paul's kisses on her neck and Marko's light, not deep bites. Knew what the little one was getting at. Felt her heart beat faster at the thought. It had been a long time. ,,I suggest we move our lovely reunion over there," David ordered, taking a last drag on his cigarette. He finished it before taking her hand and pulling her and the three boys towards one of the many nests full of blankets and pillows.

The night when the moon was so brightly lit had been over for a few days. The long night of love between the five had passed. But she seemed to still feel them all. How Paul had placed himself between her legs, bringing her to ecstasy.

How Dwayne had pulled her onto his lap and whispered sweet words to her. Marko bit into the soft skin of her thighs again and again. Before she felt the sweet tug on her breast as the icy blue of David's eyes seemed to devour her. It was a night of lust and sin.

But the love between them seemed stronger than ever. The days had passed and slowly it would be day again. Star, Laddie and the four others were all with her in the cave. They were all waiting to go to sleep.

Laddie was already under the covers, dozing lightly even though he was not yet completely asleep. Star was also sitting on her bed reading a book, but something about her seemed different. She seemed happier and yet sadder. Something had happened. But her friend had not really had time to find out everything.

She only knew that David had made a young man named Michael drink his blood. But she had not met him yet. She was curious what he would be like. She sat on the couch with a book between her hands and read the pages halfway attentively. Even though her attention went to the four of them every now and then. David sat in his wheelchair and smoked quietly.

Every now and then he chuckled about the events. Dwayne looked at Laddie's bed and seemed to just watch everything, even though he seemed to be in thoughts. Paul made himself another joint for the coming night and she wondered if it would really be enough. While Marko talked to his pigeons and put another patch on his jacket. It was a calm, relaxed atmosphere. It was caring.

Before, after a few more minutes, David rose from the chair and finished his cigarette before saying, ,,Time to go to sleep". There was a rolling of the eyes from Marko and a grumbling from Paul, but they all rose and slowly walked towards the passageway that led further inside.

Their mutual friend also stood up and put the book away carelessly before she joyfully placed herself in front of the passage. Before she gave the boys a hug and a goodnight kiss. First Paul, then Marko before Dwayne and finally David.

She had just pulled away from him when she felt his hand on hers. ,,You sure you don't want to sleep with us?" he asked quietly and looked briefly at the rest of the mattress and blankets. They had offered her to sleep directly under them. But she shook her head slightly. ,,It's fine, really, I like sleeping on the couch, closer to Star and Laddie in case anything happens," she replied, squeezing his hand lightly.

She saw his blue eyes run over her, searching for something. ,,If anything is, you know...we're all here to protect you, I promise," he said before kissing her hand and disappearing into the darkness himself. ,,Good night!" she called into the darkness to the four of them before sitting back on the couch to get a few hours sleep herself until noon before running a few errands for the group and planning to take care of the pigeons. Slipping happily under the covers, she sighed at the comfort before falling asleep with thoughts of the night ahead.

The sun stood brightly over Santa Carla at noon and she slowly woke up again. The light did not reach every corner of the cave, but it was bright enough to see more than just everything. Yawning, she had already bought the most necessary things in town and was already on her way back to the cave. She took another entrance, so she didn't take the stairs. It would bring fewer questions if she was seen less.

And not always a young woman disappearing in the cave. Humming a song to herself, she put the box down and wiped her hands on her jeans. Before she looked around and noticed something. Or rather, didn't notice something. Is she under the covers? she asked herself and walked over to Star and Laddie. But the closer she got, the more clearly she saw that the two beds were empty.

Discomfort and fear rose up in her. That was not possible, they were both asleep in an almost comatose state. They could not be gone. ,,Star? Laddie? Where are you two?" she asked into the cave as she turned over and scattered all the blankets and pillows. They were gone. She knew not to worry about the sun. ,,They can't be out," she muttered, knowing that they were asleep and wouldn't wake up any time soon. Something or someone happened.

Looking around she tried to spot signs. Before she hurried back to the couch and reached in her pocket for her knife. Strictly speaking, it was a gift from the four of them for defensive reasons. They knew that as soon as the sun came up they could not protect themselves very well. She took it in her hand and grasped the handle, looking at the blade for a moment.

Sharp and deadly if need be. The more she searched and looked around, the more nervous she seemed to get. She knew she could hardly defend herself alone. Especially not if it were the Surf Nazis. She bit her lip and cursed inwardly. They must be people she thought nervously and looked around.

She had just arrived back at Star's bed when she saw two figures scurrying towards the doorway.They're heading for them, she realized in a panic before running after them. ,,Stop!" she shouted and reached out a hand in the half-light. She felt a collar catch her hand and she yanked on it with all her might.

The person was lighter than she had thought, which is why she flew back out of the shadows with the person and went to the ground. ,,Shit, you're bitten!" she heard a childish voice, a teenager barely older.

Picking herself up but not letting go of the knife she saw who was standing there. The Frog brothers. She knew them from the comic shop, she had bought something there a few times. ,,No, just a scratch," the other replied, a small bloody scratch on his arm from the impact.

He was about to run back to his brother when she grabbed him by the collar again. ,,What are you two doing here?" she asked, looking at them uncertainly. They can't know, can they? she asked herself, but when she saw the weapons the younger two had, she shuddered. It would be enough to kill all four of them. ,,Let him go! We should have known, you're her bride like in the comics, you're keeping them alive!" Edgar shouted, his red bandana already drenched in sweat.

They were all tense and fucking terrified. ,,Just shoot!" the other one yelled and tried to get out of her grip. But she continued to hold him out firmly before she pressed the knife against his neck as gently as she could in the situation. What am I doing here? she asked herself and knew that her hands were trembling slightly. That her heart was beating far too fast and she was afraid. She was threatening children...and yet only to protect her love. She would do anything for them.

She had fallen for them, but of her own free will, they all loved each other. One does everything for love. She knew the dangers that would come. ,,They love me! And I advise you whatever you think you know, they are not here...leave and be glad that I don't call the police!" it was a weak lie and yet a warning. A warning that would come true and become reality when night fell. She thought feverishly about what to do.

She looked at the stake gun and swallowed. One shot to pierce her and she would be dead too. ,,Lie! We know you're here, we've already got the little one and the girl. We'll get your bloodsucking mates too and then you'll die, you half-vampire!" Alan shouted and his brother aimed at her. But she moved Alan in front of her and if Edgar pulled the trigger he would hurt his brother. He wouldn't risk it.

Her eyes wandered searchingly for David's bottle. All she had to do was take a sip and, if she was lucky, bite one of them. All she had to do was turn and she could win.

Before she saw the bottle lying next to the wheelchair. Something she could not know. ,, They are not here for the last time! If you don't want him to die then get out now!" she shouted and pressed the knife harder against the younger man's throat. There was no sign of Alan winking at his brother to draw his attention to something. She didn't see Edgar reply silently. She only heard the click of the gun but it was not a stake coming out. Instead it was holy water.

But the surprise effect was there. She flinched, pushed Alan away, lost the knife and ran towards the bottle. It was only a few steps away. She had already reached out for it when a shot echoed through the cave. A single shot. ,,Come on, let's go!" she heard Edgar say muffled as he pulled his brother out of the cave with him.

She had fallen to the ground from the force of the shot. The rush of her blood seemed too loud for her to hear them any more. Slowly, apppathetically and trembling, she looked down as far as she could. She lay lightly on her side and her vision blurred by the tears in her eyes.

The wooden stake had pierced through her middle. She only partly felt the pool of blood spreading beneath her, only partly felt how heavy the wood actually was, only partly felt her strength leaving her. She looked at the bottle and reached for it. Empty. She sobbed painfully as she realised what it meant. Death.

Tears ran down her cheek to the floor mingling with the pool of blood. No-No...I don't want it to end like this she heard her inner voice and looked towards the doorway. Rescue. ,,My...love" she murmured as she pulled herself up with a scream. She almost fell to the floor again if she hadn't supported herself. Everything hurt, her tears wouldn't stop and she could feel her blood escaping.

She lost more and more and left a trail behind her. She limped, walking far too slowly towards the passage, always thinking that the four of them would save her. You said it David she thought of his promise and groaned painfully as the wood shifted slightly due to her movement.

It hurt so much. ,,Help me...please" she cried out and tried not to look at the wood. It would only have made her cry more. It would have stained her hands even more with blood. It would only be a few more steps, but she began to stumble. The weight of the wood and her lack of strength were too much.

She collapsed and went down again, crying out again from the impact. She seemed to bleed even more from the collision, but she was only half aware of it. Her body could not hold out much longer. ,,Ju-Just...into the darkness," she gasped and heaved herself towards the passage.

But it didn't work, she had no strength left, she lay powerless and on the verge of death in front of the darkness. She had not reached the darkness. She had not reached the four. She had not reached her love. It was the end. ,,David...Dwayne...Paul...Marko don't leave me alone...I'm scared" she murmured before her vision became more and more blurred and her heart stopped beating.

══════════════════════

The moon seemed to glow blood-red that night as the four awoke from their sleep. But they all seemed to feel something. That something had happened. David saw the same uncertain look in the eyes of the three. It was the same uncertain look in his blue eyes as they were unaware of her heartbeat. Immediately they ran out of their section and the short way back to the main cave.

The light of the moon shone darker into the cave, not illuminating every corner. But before they could even enter, they all stopped in shock. Wordless, powerless, powerless, they stopped in front of her.

The vampires fixed their gaze on her corpse as if they were still dreaming. It seemed to be a nightmare. This could not have happened. Then it would have happened. ,,What...What happened?" said Dwayne first, who seemed to have banished any sign of his feelings within seconds.

He put a hand on Paul's shoulder when he saw the blond shaking slightly. He was crying. Paul was the first to cry bloody tears. His crying was the first to turn into sobs and he hid his face in his hands as he knelt down beside you.

He reached out his trembling hands and clasped yours. He held you convulsively as if he was afraid you might disappear at any second. He would have given anything to hold you in his arms again. Dwayne also went over to you and knelt down next to you.

The tallest one wanted to be closer to you, even though he loved to just kiss you on the head or forehead. Now the thought seemed to hurt him even more. Dwayne was the second to shed tears of blood. He did it silently, quietly, not to be heard. He put his hand so unspeakably carefully on your leg, he was afraid he would hurt you. He had always been afraid of hurting you.

A loud crack went through the cave as Marko punched one hole after another in the stone, his knuckles had long since burst open, but it didn't hurt. He felt nothing. He felt nothing more because you could only give him that feeling.

You made him feel something again. More than just a thirst for blood. He hated himself at that moment more than ever before. Marko was the third to cry bloody tears, trying to hold them back but it didn't work.

Dwayne opened his mouth but closed it again. He had no strength to nag Marko to let it go. For the first time he didn't care. ,,Marko" said David after the smallest one had cut a particularly deep hole in the stone and a complete rumble went through the cave. It didn't bring you back. It wouldn't do any good.

The usually grinning vampire turned to you. His face full of sadness and anger and hate. Anger and hatred for the one who had done this to you. Before he came to you and knelt beside you as well. His fingers slowly went to your hair, just holding a strand. He had felt fear for a long time. Fear that he might hurt you.

He cried and seemed to want to say something, but instead he just sobbed. David. David was the last one to come to you. His attempts to light a cigarette had failed. His fingers were shaking too much, his lighter wouldn't light and he wanted to scream.

He knelt down next to you. He saw your battered body. Saw the wooden stake that went through you. ,,She...protected us," Paul whimpered in response to Dwayne's question and only sobbed more. David swallowed, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. ,,Protected," he mumbled, his voice seeming to break every second.

The three did not take their eyes off you and yet they listened to their leader. Then it was David's turn to cry one bloody tear, he was the fourth and last. Before he realised what he had done. He had broken his promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[willowpenguinwritting]

Roses--- Enola Holmes oneshot short thing.

Enola was on a walk with Tewksbury to "clear her head" at his suggestion. So far he had already stopped to smell five flowers, examine six and stroked at least two and they had only left 5 minutes ago.

It wasn't that Enola was specifically counting but she wanted the walk to be over and get back to thinking about her case. It was an interesting one and not quite what she expected.

Tewksbury stood up straight again after smelling another flower, "It was a petunia I had to." he tried to explain.

Enola shook her head, "Save it, I did not come on this walk for you to go on about flowers and expect me not to want to think about my case."

They walked a bit more, Enola was ahead and not speaking a word. Tewksbury was failing to cheer her up despite his desperate attempts his funny faces and voice impressions hadn't worked. Enola continued to lead and didn't seem to notice when Tewksbury stopped to admire a dandelion.

Enola paused in her path to look at some roses, "It's full of thorns."

"Well there are two ways to see it, you can be grateful that thorny plants have beautiful roses or ungrateful that roses have sharp thorns." Tewksbury smiled as he pulled out some gardening gloves from his back pocket.

She sighed, "I need to get back to my case." she said filling with agitation.

"Oh you need to get back to your case." mocked Tewksbury with a laugh.

Enola's response was simple and easy, jokingly punching him in the arm, "Oi, I am trying to pick you some nice flowers here."

"I have enough flowers from when you got me some this morning," Enola complained.

"If we still have spare vases we can have more flowers," Tewksbury said as he began to smell the petals.

Enola scowled "Last time you said that you used glasses and mugs and we had no drinking vessels other than bowls."

Tewksbury turned his puppy dog eyes to try and convince her.

"Stop looking at me like that," Enola said confused.

Tewksbury grinned, "Like what?"

"Like you're about to kiss me as if it will solve everything."

He grinned wider before leaning in to kiss Enola's cheek and gradually planted kisses along her cheek before reaching her mouth. It still felt as if there were fireworks exploding every time they kissed and for the marques of Basilwether, it was perfect.

Enola couldn't help but find herself smiling as they pulled away, exchanging grins filled with more happiness they lighted the fireworks again whilst kissing for a good few more minutes.

"Come on," Enola grinned, "I really do have to get back to my case now I've had my walk."

Tewksbury shook his head, he poked her nose gently before kissing her for a bit more. The firework show began to end as he knew Enola would only get more fed up if she wasn't to return to her case soon.

Enola held her hand out which Tewksbury took and together, hand in hand they headed back to the flat. It wasn't their flat as they didn't live together. It was Tewksbury's yet somehow Enola spent almost every day and night there.

When they arrived back on the doorstep were Tewksbury's seeds from his plant newspaper he was subscribed to. Enola smiled as she saw that they were roses. She was full of joy that her rose didn't seem to have thorns.

Enola set instantly back to her case board and finished off adding the string when she saw something had been added. It was a small piece of paper right in the middle with the words I love you written on it. It was in a cursive that couldn't belong to anyone but the Vicount Tewksbury, her Vicount Tewksbury. However, if her mother asked he was still a useless man. Well, it was still only a man on occasion. There were most certainly times when he would seem like a toddler hyper from too much sugar, which mostly occurred when they ended out near any sort of flower show.

Well, my previous Enola Holmes thing kind of went insane so I felt obliged to write another. I don't know if I quite got the character's mannerisms quite right but I tried to. I hope you enjoyed reading this!!