#erik hassle

[notesofseptember]

Why can't it all be so simple?

Forever is yesterday

[sexandwistfulness]

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger; I don't know about that.

(What doesn't kill you makes you smaller What doesn't kill you makes you cold What doesn't kill you makes you wonder If all there is is nothing at all)

[gerec]

Is there any fic where one of the two is a mutant and the other isn't? Or at least one of them doesn't know he's a mutant, sorry if this request is too specific, it probably doesn't exist, I just want to be sure 😭😭

Here's a post with some great recommendations for Human!Charles fics!

And here are a few more to add to the list!

Magneto, Would You Fall In Love With A Human? by CherikDogFood

Erik Lehnsherr, better known as Magneto, is a famous activist of Mutant Rights and Leader of the Brotherhood. Unknown to the public, he's in love (and married) to Charles Xavier, a human. Erik strives to keep his private love life a secret from prying journalists, but there are bound to be slip-ups...

Or, 5 times Magneto almost (accidentally) exposed his love life plus 1 time he did it intentionally.

Let Them Talk by manic_intent

Sub/Dom pairs are created by imprinting. Mutants generally imprint on mutants and Erik who is the most powerful among them thinks that he will have equally powerful sub. Turns out that he imprints on Charles – a brilliant yet entirely human Professor. Cue Erik being disgusted and angry with his Sub, which Charles takes really hard. Erik is ashamed of him, and doesn’t want him to associate with other mutants, but slowly Charles charms his way to the hearts of everyone and one day another mutant (Logan pretty please?) challenges Erik’s claim over Xavier.

in time to change your mind by dizzyfaced

It took a bit of nudging from Raven, who had told Magneto that her brother is not like other humans, he’s totally different and he is so so kind, and Erik come on—he could clean the base for us?

And Charles had said, oh yes, in fact I could cook and do everyone’s laundry, please let me stay with my sister?

And Magneto, who could not have been any older than twenty-one at that time, had considered what a hassle it was to clean after a bunch of mutants, and said: Yes, sure. He can stay.

Hip to Be Square by seutedeern

The year is 1985. Humans and mutants have lived together for a hundred years and now co-exist peacefully.

That is, outside of high school. Charles Xavier happens to be an ordinary human being, but that's not the worst of his troubles. He's a true geek, with so few friends he could count them on two fingers, and he also happens to be the school's favourite victim.

Erik has always looked down upon humans without any powers, thinking he is superior to them.

Naturally, he's not pleased at all when for some unknown reason, Charles latches onto him after only one lesson of group work as though they were the best of friends.

[obsessing-over-fictionn]

just got my ears pierced so i think it’s fitting to address the whole foxes & their piercing and jewelry agenda. realistically, exy is a contact sport and therefore would not allow jewelry, and since they’re college athletes they probably play all the time & it would be a hassle to actually wear the piercings every day. but i digress! pls note that i have one (1) lobe piercing and nothing else so im probably not experienced enough to be making these hcs but idk it’s based on vibes so f it we ball

andrew: i think everyone and their mother agrees that andrew has an eyebrow piercing and a couple on his ear. personally i think he’d have two lobes on one ear & a helix(which is upper, outer ear), and then just one lobe on the other ear? he wears rings and then a chain w a ring on it (not necessarily a wedding ring, but it’s definitely one that he and neil match)

neil: idk to me neil doesn’t seem like he’d have piercings bc of practicality esp since he lived on the run and if they got infected it would be over, but i think later in life he gets a couple scattered on his ears. maybe a tongue piercing too at the guidance of allison and nicky, and if it helped that andrew likes it then that’s nobody’s business but his own. he also has his matching ring necklace and no other jewelry

allison: allison has her ears like completely done w multiple lobes, conches, helixes, flats, etc. like literally all of them on the ear possible. i could also see like a stud nose ring perhaps and a belly button ring too. likes necklaces and rings too. also she wears gold jewelry argue w the wall

renee: renee i feel like has a lot of piercings but she just doesn’t wear anything in them. i think she would’ve gotten a lot during her stint w the gang and everything and after she had her change of heart, she just wouldn’t wear anything in them. i think for her just plain lobes and maybe a nose (like the one that’s not in the middle of the nostrils yk idk what it’s called but it’s like where a stud would go??) but she has her cross necklace and that’s abt all the jewelry she wears

nicky: belly button and tongue, maybe a single lobe, but personally i just don’t see him w a lot of ear piercings. if anything he’d go for other parts on his body i feel, not rlly his ears. for other jewelry i think he wears rings and necklaces for like ‘fancier occasions’ but i don’t see him wearing them every day. maybe a necklace from erik?

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {17}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, panic attack - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || under construction

Ilies was kind enough to take Pierre, Addie and I to the airport early on Monday morning. Pierre had put his Audi on one of the car transporters heading to Alpine’s mechanical headquarters in Paris and he would pick it up from there later in the week when he returned for some training. With the next race being in Canada there was a two week break so he was going to spend a few days in London with us as long as he kept up his fitness routine. 

I was apparently the one in charge of making sure that happened but his personal trainer might have been shocked to hear that my idea of exercise involved us tangled in bedsheets. I kept that to myself of course and just agreed. As long as I got to watch while Pierre worked out in my home gym then it was a win-win to me.

“Thanks for the lift, Granny,” I said as I kissed her cheeks after boarding the private jet. 

“It’s on the way to New York so it’s no hassle, honey. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Fashion Week with me?”

I grimaced at the idea. “And have you try to use me as a model again, no thanks.”

“What?” she asked innocently as she buckled up into her seat. “You’ve got the legs for it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Pierre whispered in my ear. “They are very sexy.”

I elbowed him lightly but he just laughed it off and I continued on my way down the aisle. Two rows down I found dad, who was half asleep, and heading home to see mum. I sat Addie into the seat beside him and buckled her in before setting up her latest animated fixation, Mulan, on the screen in front of her. 

“Let mummy know if you need to go to the loo,” I reminded her before pulling the earphones over her head.

There was no reason to be all sat together so I passed the last two rows before sitting down. There was only the galley behind us but since the flight was a little over two hours I doubted anyone would ask for refreshments and we would be left alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked as we hit some turbulence coming into Heathrow and Pierre clutched the armrest between us. His eyes were closed and his lips pressed in a firm line as he nodded his head. He had been uneasy since takeoff but repeatedly lied and said he was fine. “You couldn’t have picked a sport with more travel if you tried.”

“I’m fine with flying…until it gets bumpy.” He let me pull his hand from the leather material and replaced it with my own as we watched the GPS of the plane inching closer to the airport. 

“Miss Vowles, Mr Gasly, if you could please fill these out before we land that would be wonderful,” the stewardess said as she handed me three Passenger Locator Forms before moving on to dad.

I filled out mine and Addie’s while Pierre did his but he took a little longer since he wasn’t a UK Citizen like us and had more pages to complete. I actually had dual citizenship through the ‘grandfather scheme’ which meant I was entitled to apply for citizenship where my parents and grandparents were citizens. Legally, I could hold a passport of Mexico, the USA and the United Kingdom but I preferred to use my UK one since it had the least restrictions.

If Erik ever tried to petition for access to Addie and won, then she could have all three passports and a Norwegian one too.

The thought turned my mood sour and as we touched down on British soil I began to rue my decision to come back. I knew I needed to be here to pack up the house for the move and visit Dr Pascoe in person but there was always a little storm cloud in the back of my mind when I was in London. 

The city was tainted of memories with Erik, the restaurants we had eaten at, the cinemas we have gone to. I couldn’t even drive near Islington because that was where our house had been. Just thinking about it had the walls of the plane closing in around me and I reached for the paper bag in the storage pocket.

The paper crinkled in and out with each breath, the speed too fast for any rational thought and shadows moved around me until two faces came into focus.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” dad said but it was hard to catch the slippery words as my head swam. “Deep breath, in through your nose. Do it with me.” I tried to copy him but my intake was as shaky as my hands. “Good girl, now out through your mouth, nice and slow.”

My clothes felt too tight and my hair clung to my clammy forehead and I tried to brush it away but my hands were shaking too much. The strands of hair remained and I grew frustrated.

“I’ve got it, Bri, just focus on breathing,” Pierre said as he brushed it back for me. A cool damp cloth came to rest on my forehead and I closed my eyes as I leant back in the seat. “Mama’s alright, princesse.”

My eyes flashed open to see Addie looking afraid and I opened my arms for her. “Mummy was just a little overwhelmed, sweetie, I’m sorry it scared you.”

“Was it a bad dream again?” she asked as she clung tight to me.

“Kind of. You know, I could do with your help.” She perked up at the idea of helping and listened intently. “We have no food at home, so I need you to choose where we will have brunch. You don’t have to tell me now, but why don’t you hop back in your seat and have a think about it while we land.”

“Come on, little bug,” dad guided her away, his own worried stare looking back at me as he went. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre asked when we were alone but I shook my head.

“No, I just want to erase the memories of this place.” I tipped my head onto his shoulder and looked up at him. “Tell me that it’s possible.”

He kissed my forehead and I cringed as I realised I was a sweaty mess but he didn’t seem to care as he wrapped an arm around me. “I don’t know about erasing them, but we can make new ones instead.”

–

We landed without a fuss and while we were taxiing to the terminal we started to say our goodbyes before we would part ways. Dad was already out of his seat, ignoring the seatbelt sign, and kneeling next to Granny having quiet words with each other before they both looked at me with concern. 

Dad rose to his feet and let Addie climb up for a hug, a bright smile deepening the wrinkles at the corners of Granny’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, honey. You let me know if you want to come visit alright? We’ll get rid of that posh accent in no time.”

“Don’t want you to go, Granny,” she replied with a trembling lip.

Betty sniffled and blinked away the tears that quickly built along her waterline. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

“You’d still look beautiful,” I said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the visit and the ride.”

“Of course, you’re welcome to use it whenever you need, especially trying to juggle work, motherhood and a long distance relationship,” she said looking between Pierre and I. “Take all the help you can get to make it work.”

Pierre’s hand took mine and gave it a squeeze while I answered through my widening smile. “I might take you up on that.”

The Gulfstream had come to a stop and I saw two cars parked outside the little window as the stewardess opened the door. Dad would take one to the domestic terminal for his next flight to Manchester while we would be in the other heading home to Twickenham. 

“Oh, and Damien, give my love to Otmar when you see him,” Granny said with a fond smile for the man she thought of as the second child she never had. “I’ll see you in Italy, unless I decide to pop by before that. Never know when I might need a holiday at my age.”

“Mom, you’re retired.”

She scoffed and waved him off. “I retired from designing but I still own the company, dear. I can’t trust anyone else to run it right, unless it’s family.” Her eyes darted to me and I held my hands up.

“Don’t finish that thought, Granny, I’m an engineer - I like tinkering with mechanics and engines.”

“I’ve heard Pierre’s a man of fashion and business or so the internet tells me. You could always marry him. Just an idea, honey.” She sent me a wink and I stumbled over my feet, nearly sending myself out down the steps. “Take care of my precious babies, Mr Gasly.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” he replied with such sincerity that I missed the step in front of me and his hand shot out, catching my arm and pulling me back. “Was that a test?”

“No,” I sighed and blew a strand of hair out of my face with a huff. “That's just how clumsy I am. Let’s go before I break my neck and never get to walk down the aisle Granny’s busy daydreaming about now.”

“I’ve had the design of your wedding dress waiting since you were 18. You tell me when to start sewing it.”

“Bye Granny, bye Matthew!” I concentrated on walking down the stairs with an amused Pierre behind me carrying Addie and dad coming down last. 

“Your mother said she’s blocked out her calendar for Wednesday if you can come to dinner.”

I looked at Pierre since he was meant to be flying to Paris on Thursday morning and Addie and I would be flying into Rouen to meet him on Saturday. “It’s a four hour drive.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to change my flight to leave from Manchester instead, if you want to stay the night?”

I nodded to dad, “it’s a tentative yes but I’ll let you know once he’s checked the flights. Addie say bye-byes to grandad.”

Our farewells were far quicker and our luggage had already been put into the cars by the time we were finished and going our own separate ways. I would have preferred to have my own car but it was at home after getting a cab to the airport when we left two weeks ago but thankfully it wasn’t peak rush hour and it wasn’t too far to get home.

“Addie, have you decided where you want to eat?”

“The dog park!”

Pierre looked aghast as he spun in his passenger seat at the front and I laughed at the face he pulled. “It’s just a cafe that happens to be on the same block as a dog park. It’s called Ivy and she knows it too,” I said as I tickled Addie’s toes for being a little trickster. “It’s just around the corner from our house so we can drop the bags off first and walk.”

He relaxed back into his seat knowing he wasn’t going to be eating in a dog park and I scoured the inside pockets of my handbag until I found my keys. I gripped the remote to the front gate as the driver pulled onto our street and suddenly had a new fear - had I tidied the house before we left? No. The answer was, no. I had been running around like a madwoman trying to get Addie ready so I decided the toys on the floor and unfolded washing on the couch could wait for my return.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and Pierre’s eyes shot to me through the little mirror on his sun visor, his eyebrow cocked in a silent question. “My house is a fucking mess.”

Click here for chapter eighteen.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @anotheroneiforgot

[nocturnalazure]

Cam you elaborate more of Ahn/Laurie? So far I don't see any chemistry between them and it's bothering me (so much I needed to write lol - this is not a critic to you, just my perspective as a reader!). Ahn is so uptight and idealistic, it makes her a good hero but a bad romantic interest imo. Her ideas and fantasies about Laurie (the good and the bad ones) seem too childish, it's hard to connect with her. Laurie doesn't seem too open to romance either, his relationships so far are closer to convenient, hassle-free (Chikage) or outbursts of emotion (Erik), and that's exactly what Ahn isn't.

Hi anon! First of all, your ask is not bothering me at all: it is considerate and well thought out, and it is an honor to have smart and respectful readers like you! Even if as an author, I would instinctively prefer my readers to be onboard with all of my plot elements, I also try to write complex characters whose actions are left for the reader to interpret by themselves. Your comment is therefore a compliment to me, because my characters, whether you're bothered with them or not, brought up such strong feelings that you felt the need to send these messages, and for this, I thank you. <3 I would draw the line at character bashing, but this is not at all what you are doing. <3

On to the actual response! Apologies for the wall of text, I have a lot to say! :D

Your analysis is a shrewd one and if you feel like something's off between Laurie and Anh, you are completely right. Anh is indeed fantasizing over Laurie, and she is herself aware of it. She is stubborn and inhibited, very strict with herself and with others, she clings to her values as a way to make sense of her world, and she is emotionally naive. She attaches way too much importance in the way she's perceived, and is obsessed with appearing strong and unbending. Laurie on the other hand is a master at pretending, and even he has trouble understanding his real feelings. He feels duty and responsibility very strongly, but that leads him to cut himself off from people. You are entirely right in saying that his relationships are "convenient". With Alesha (we will see her again soon), he was looking for something simple and stable, even when he knew he would leave her at some point and when lying to her wore him down. With Erik, he refused to go beyond a single night because he was hoping that by releasing the unresolved sexual tension between them, they would get over their infatuation with each other (and it didn't solve anything, on the contrary: it almost ruined what they have). And with Chikage, their arrangement can barely be called a relationship since they're basically using each other. He acts the same in friendship: Romeo and Omar are not quite friends to him but business partners. For all he tries to be honest in business, Laurie has an issue with being honest with himself.

Despite their massive differences, I see Laurie and Anh as struggling with very similar issues: they are both afraid of emotional connection, yet they are craving for it. They don't want to lose control, and they both wear a mask of unyielding effectiveness that sometimes cracks. They both like intellectual challenges and have similar brain patterns. The trust that Anh mentioned is real, and it is mutual because they recognize deep down that they are made from the same mold, although Laurie may see this more clearly than Anh (who is in a rather confused state of mind right now).

I'm not going to spoil anything about what's going to come, but Laurie and Anh's forced journey together is not over and they will both have the opportunity to further explain their inner thoughts and feelings. I believe that they have a lot to give to each other: Anh needs reassurance on so many levels but doesn't want to admit it, and Laurie needs someone to be vulnerable with and who would force him to face up to what he keeps hidden. And with such thick heads, becoming lovers is the only way for them to fully experience that kind of intimacy. But whether Anh and Laurie are meant to be or not, my intent is not to write perfect matches and ideal relationships. Reality is a lot more subtle, and relationships often simply don't work out for a whole variety of reasons that can't be blamed on anyone in particular. Sometimes it is the right moment, sometimes it's not.

And it's perfectly fine if Anh doesn't come out as relatable to you. I also have readers who find her very relatable, so it really is a matter of perspective and all perspectives are welcome! You are totally allowed not to like a character and to keep reading as long as it doesn't ruin the story for you.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Don’t Look Under The Bed.

What happens when you don’t believe in your imaginary friend anymore?

PART TWO

Kinktober Fest Submission

Monster!Erik x OC

Warnings: Smut, Exhibitionism, Auralism, Helplessness kink, Amaurophilia, Spectrophilia, Size Kink, Somnophilia, Erotic Wrestling

kinktober fest fic challenge  part one

“Because…there was always this small part of you, Sasha, that still believed…that still wanted me around. If you truly didn’t believe in me anymore, then the bogeyman would have fully consumed me…and I would have eaten you. That’s what the bogeyman does, Sasha, it crawls from under your bed at night…snatches you in your sleep…and takes you back to their realm where they…they eat you.”

Waking up the next morning was a hassle, not because Sasha is lazy, even though that’s true, but because she was up all night tossing and turning. What happened shocked her in a multitude of ways. She went from fear, to arousal, to frustration all because of this bogeyman. The bogeyman; the monster beneath her bed; was her imaginary friend. He was now an imaginary monster often believed by children. Sasha could remember her parents using the bogeyman to threaten her into going to sleep on time. It never actually worked by the way.

Sasha looked over the edge of her bed until she was peering beneath her bed upside down. Her eyes scanned from left to right, staring at nothing but clean space. Where did this bogeyman come from? Did a portal just open up beneath her bed at night? there was no trace of a bogeyman hibernating beneath her bed. No claw marks. No smelly monster ooze. Nothing to indicate that a bogeyman lived under her bed.

The bogeyman has a nearly endless number of incarnations, as anything frightening or repulsive will suffice.The monster is usually said to live under a child's bed or in the closet and to appear at night, although in some regions of the United States, he scratches on the window of a child's room. Usually, the bogeyman is more or less humanoid, although he may be much larger or smaller than regular people. He is often dressed in black and may carry a sack or basket with which to kidnap children.

Sasha checked her walk-in closet and there was no sign of him. Sitting on the edge of her bed now, speechless, Sasha couldn’t get the image of the bogeyman crawling towards her, or feeling his lips and tongue all over her pussy out of her mind. He’d probably wanted to do that for so long. She wanted him to finish but he’d edged her instead and it pissed Sasha off. The best goddamn head she’d ever gotten, putting all of her exes to shame. Oral sex from a monster. A kink Sasha never knew she really had—well, technically she has a thing for Venom, Werewolves, and Sex demons showing up in her dreams.

A hand clamped down over Sasha’s mouth. She had a eureka moment. If the bogeyman had been under her bed all this time, then it must have witnessed her having sex. Of course he would know that she liked to be choked. Her ex-boyfriend did it often—in missionary with her legs over his shoulders, in doggy-style with both hands wrapped around her neck from behind while he pounded into her opening, from the side at 5am while he whispered into her ear. The bogeyman probably watched with his coal-black eyes over the edge of her bed, learning what she’d liked for his time with her. Probably felt the bed dip lower in a repeated motion when the sex got rough.

Night fall couldn’t come fast enough. She plans to confront oogie boogie herself and demand answers. After sitting for an hour, Sasha got up to get herself together for a productive day at her studio. She switched on the light in her master bathroom and expected to find a message waiting for her but the mirror was clean and the only thing staring back at her was her reflection. Sasha freshened up and dreaded looking through her unpacked clothes for something appropriate to wear.

“Perfect! Just perfect, Evan, you’re doing great!”

Sasha moved back and forth, camera flicking from different angles to capture the new male model that officially signed a contract through the agency she worked for. He was serving Afro punk realness with his long, slender locs, septum piercing, and chiseled jawline. Sasha couldn’t stop snapping pictures of him.

“I think we have plenty to choose from now. You were made for the camera, Evan,” Sasha let her camera dangle from her neck, “you want to take five before the next shoot?”

Evan stood with his arms out while the oil girl did her job covering his ripped torso with grape seed oil. He peeked over at Sasha through his curtain of locs and flashed a charming smile made for the camera.

“Nah, we can keep going. I’m amped up.”

Sasha nodded her head and turned to her crew to get the set ready for a new shoot. This one required Evan to be damn near naked. It will be black and white.

“Sasha,” Evan’s hand pressed into her lower back, “I should thank you, really, you’re like…the best photographer.”

Sasha’s fingers fumbled clumsily with her camera when Evan started running circles into her lower back. Even through the thick material of her sweatshirt she could feel his long fingers.

“No problem, Evan,” Sasha gave him a weak smile, “Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” He spoke with a hushed tone that made her shiver, “Just let me know when you’re ready, baby.”

Sasha felt like they were talking about something else entirely. One perfectly threaded brow arched in question and Evan chuckled slightly.

“…let me know when it’s cool to take you out to dinner. I really want to spoil you, Sasha.”

A blush crept up Sasha’s neck and she giggled. Evan smelled so good and he was so handsome. Sasha couldn’t even stare him in the eyes for more than two seconds without looking down at her feet or playing with her hair.

“Just say the word and I’m there.” Evan said.

Why not? Sasha was single and she hadn’t been on a date in a while. There was no telling where things would go. If Evan wanted to come back to her place, she would agree. If Evan wanted to drink some wine and talk for a while, Sasha would be down. If he wanted to make her cum with those smooth, moist lips of his she would be ready and willing—

Fuck, the bogeyman, Sasha thought.

“You okay, gorgeous?”

Sasha focused on Evan’s worried expression.

“Oh! I’m cool. Just spaced. Thinking about something I have to take care of—”

“You ain’t gotta explain yourself, beautiful.”

Sasha made up her mind.

“You can take me out tonight, actually,” Sasha said bashfully, “Are you busy?”

“Shid, not for you,” Evan licked his lips, “I’ll pick you up around 7pm?”

“Good with me.”

Evan was called back to set but he didn’t leave Sasha’s side without grabbing her hand and placing a kiss on it like he was Prince Charming. Sasha felt tingly all over and especially between her legs. Fat mama didn’t want to behave!

After the discovery of Evan’s interest in Sasha, whenever she took a picture of him, it felt intimate. Like he was posing for her. Especially during one particular shoot. He wore loose, flowing, black linen pants that were soaked from water and his third leg sat chubby and semi erect against his thigh. The black and white didn’t help situations because it made his dick print pop out of the photograph like it was 3D. She wasn’t the only one on set with a wet pussy and hungry eyes for Evan apparently. His stylist was extra with every touch to his skin whenever he went to switch wardrobes. She acted like his woman and Sasha wondered if he’d given her some long dickin’. Before shutting everything down for the day, Evan and Sasha exchanged numbers. She could feel envious eyes on her back from almost every woman in that studio.

When Sasha got home after, she found a pile of packages from Wayfair, mostly decorative things for her living room and home office. She had some time before her date so she decided to unpack as much as she could before getting ready. Box cutter in hand, Renaissance on repeat, Sasha went to work. As the day stretched into night, the bogeyman beneath her bed appeared. His shadowy body remained hidden while he listened to Sasha sing off tune.

A part of him wanted to eat her alive, and another part of him wanted to wrap his imposing arms around her and snuggle her close. If only she knew how much he needed her. He took a whiff of the air in her bedroom and took her scent into memory. Shea and vanilla. His claws began to drag along the legs of her bed frame. His monster dick expanded and lengthened rapidly. Sasha entered her room wearing the shortest pair of sleep shorts and a tank top that’s been cropped so high you could see under boob. Her loud, shaky voice bounced off of the walls as she walked back and forth in her room. The bogeyman watched her pretty feet move across the carpet, waiting for her to come a little closer to her bed.

She’d grown up to be…words couldn’t describe. Her curves looked soft and firm at the same time. Her lips reminded him of Betty Boop. Her eyes were big and dreamy. Her skin was perfectly smooth and reminded him of cinnamon. She really grew to love herself and appreciate her beauty. The weight she put on suited her and she looked happy. Happier than she’d ever been. When she was with her toxic ex-boyfriend, she hardly ate and her slender frame didn’t look healthy.

“Evan! Hey!” Sasha said with an obnoxiously joyful voice, “I didn’t even realize what time it was…it won’t take me long to get freshened up. Just let me know when you’re here and I’ll buzz you up…okay…see you soon.”

Sasha stopped at the foot of her bed, only centimeters away from oogie boogie’s clawed hand. She did a little shimmy and her shorts dropped to the floor. A second later her tank top joined the pile. As his sharp, deadly clawed hand reached out to wrap around her narrow ankle, Sasha walked away and in the direction of her bathroom. He growled deeply and instead dragged her clothes beneath the bed with him. One monstrous hand brought the crotch of her shorts to his nose and took a big whiff. Tangy. Slightly sweet. A pleasant musky scent that felt damp to the touch with a faint stickiness. Was she aroused? He could smell it through her pheromones.

Who the fuck is Evan?

Sasha took one last look at herself in the mirror of her walk-in closet, happy with the result, before switching off all the lights. 

Grabbing her bag, she did one final sweep of her room to make sure everything was in order just in case something went down. In her bathroom, Sasha cleared away makeup, not even recognizing a new message written in the condensation on the mirror. A slither ran up her spine and something told her to look up and when she did she went as still as a statue. There was a heart drawn on the mirror, then the words I Love You.

The bogeyman. Sasha grabbed a paper towel and rubbed the mirror down until it was nothing but smudged glass. She didn’t have time to entertain the monster beneath her bed. Stepping back into her room, only the light from the bathroom illuminating her space, she stared at the darkness beneath her bed with trembling fingers. Her glossy lips lined with brown lip liner parted and a tiny breath escaped.

“Erik…I know you can hear me. Listen, could you please behave this one evening? I have a date with a nice guy and…I just want things to go normal…at least until he leaves…okay?”

Silence is all she received in response.

“Are you messing with me right now?” Sasha spoke with a shaky voice, “Answer me, bogeyman!”

Sasha wasn’t prepared for what happened next. She was lifted from the ground by the darkness itself. Her eyes snapped shut and the sound of deep beast-like growls flooded her ears. She opened her eyes slowly and stared down into the shadowy face of the bogeyman with his sunken, onyx eyes and threatening body.

“Who is Evan?” He spoke with a very deep voice.

“Just a friend from work who wants to take me on a date!” Sasha replied frantically.

She could hear buzzing from Evan ringing for her. Sasha began to panic.

“Tha–that’s him. I–I have to go. I promise, I’ll be back home and we can do whatever you want! Just don’t hurt him!”

Sasha gave her best pout and sad eyes in hopes that the bogeyman would sympathize with her. He stared at her for a long time, and Sasha was afraid Evan had left because she didn’t respond. When he finally let her go, Sasha was placed on her feet gently and she backed away with wobbly knees.

“You’ll be back?” He questioned, his voice laced with anger.

“Yes.” Sasha replied.

“Then I suggest you go now before I make you stay. And if I were you, I wouldn’t bring him back here. Unless you want me to kill him, Sasha.”

Sasha left her room and grabbed her things from the kitchen island. She checked her phone to see three missed calls from Evan. Sasha returned his call and as it rang, she took calming breaths.

“Hey sweetheart, everything alright?”

“I'm sorry about that Evan. Why don’t I meet you downstairs?”

“Anything you want, love.”

Sasha took one final look down the hall and into her pitch black room before turning away to leave it all behind for now. When she found Evan, he was waiting by a parked all black Acura. He gave her a hug before opening the door for her to get inside. The ride over to COTE Korean Steakhouse was filled with questions. Evan wanted to know everything about Sasha, from where she grew up to what made her become a photographer.

“I was born and raised in Newark, New Jersey…my is a teacher and my dad is a retired veteran.” She said, “I always dreamed of living on my own in NYC. I saved enough money and worked two jobs to be able to afford my first apartment in Brooklyn.”

Evan told her a little bit about himself. By a little, she meant very little. He shared that he was born and raised in Philly and that he went to an HBCU. He didn’t seem to want to share his childhood or past in general. Sasha found that to be odd, like he was hiding something.

She’d told him that she always had a love for photography. Her father used to take pictures often and he had his own studio and development room at their house. Her mother got her into modeling as a child, and she even recalled being on a few perm boxes. She had long hair to her waist and that alone landed her modeling gigs. Sasha then took more interest in being behind the camera when she was gifted her first digital camera for her birthday.

“…Photography has become the main outlet for my self-expression. It relaxes me, it helps me escape from the stress of daily life and the boredom of routine. It calms my nerves and allows me to be present to the moment. Photography is like meditation for me, and it makes me happy.”

She didn’t realize how much she’d shared from the car to their reserved booth seat.

She sipped her Martini while listening to Evan talk about his time during Fashion Week and how amazing New York City is. He definitely did spoil her. Whatever she wanted from the menu, Evan would order it. He even bought her a bouquet of white and red roses. He’s very touchy-feely, always reaching for Sasha’s hand or stroking her arm. She noticed he had expensive taste, which she didn’t have a problem with. She liked to dress in designer too.

“You know, you should definitely consider modeling, Sasha,” Evan said between sips of wine, “You have that face and the body for it.”

“I do. It’s just…I enjoy being behind the camera more.”

Evan licked his lips, “I’d like to be your photographer sometime…just me and you.”

He didn’t hold back at all.

“Oh, really?” Sasha giggled.

“You think I’m playing?” Evan teased.

“No, I don’t think so,” Sasha’s eyes fell to her lap.

They ate their food and talked, Sasha getting looser from her three martinis, the primitive part of her brain stimulated from the alcohol. Her sex drive was on another level and she wanted to fuck Evan. Nothing soft and intimate, but hard sex with her face in the pillow.

Not with the bogeyman under your bed, Sasha, She thought

He wanted her to come home tonight. If she decides to go home with Evan and not return to her apartment, that would anger him. She didn’t want to find out what he would do if she didn’t. For now, she would have to calm her lust until she could take care of it herself.

Or, the bogeyman could take care of it.

Why was she thinking about that long tongue on her pussy while sitting across from her date?!

“Sasha, you good?”

Sasha blinked rapidly to snap out of it.

“Yeah, all good.”

“Finished,” Evan pointed to her half-eaten food.

She hardly ate her Filet mignon.

“I think I’ll take the rest to go.” Sasha said.

After paying the expensive bill, Evan and Sasha went back to the car. He asked her if she would like to go out for drinks and she kindly declined, checking the time on her phone and seeing that it was past ten. Evan drove her home and insisted on walking her to her apartment. On the elevator ride up, he crowded Sasha’s personal space and started kissing her neck.

She closed her eyes and let the feeling of his soft lips on her neck take over her body.

“I can tell it’s been too long since you’ve had a man kiss you like that, Sasha,” Evan whispered against her ear, “Maybe I can put my lips in other places…”

His hand with long fingers and trimmed nails palmed the under cuff of her booty. He was convincing her to let him stay the night in her bed. The bogeyman wouldn’t hurt him. He had plenty of opportunities before to cause bodily harm to her ex-boyfriend.

“Your ass is so soft, Sasha,” He murmured.

She felt her clit jump.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to her floor. Evan grabbed Sasha’s hand and walked her towards her door. She let go of his hand to get her keys while Evan made himself comfortable behind her. She could smell the cherry champagne on his breath and it was sweet and pleasant.

“I guess this is goodbye for now,” Sasha turned to face Evan, her eyes raking over his body, “Thank you for everything Evan. I love the flowers too.”

Evan stretched his arms out and braced himself in the archway of her door, leaning in to take a peek at her new apartment.

“Hmm, looks spacious,” He smirked at her, “Plenty of space to use every surface…”

Sasha tucked her chin bashfully. Evan reached out to lift her chin so that she could focus on him.

“Just say the word and we can make it happen, gorgeous.”

“I—”

Sasha was cut off by Evan’s lips pressing into hers. He engulfed her mouth with skillful lips and a thick tongue. Sasha fought for control but the more Evan kissed her, the more she surrendered to him. One of his hands rested against the side of her neck and he surged his tongue in her mouth deeper. Evan started pushing himself against Sasha, attempting to enter her apartment, but one of Sasha’s dainty hands stopped him in his tracks. She broke their kiss with a loud smack and stared him in the eyes.

“I can’t tonight, Evan.”

As much as she would love to let this man do things to her body, she couldn’t risk him finding out about the monster living with her.

“What? You have no furniture right now. So?”

He leaned in to kiss her again and Sasha allowed him to give her a chaste kiss.

“Did I do something wrong? I thought we were vibin’ love. Are we not?”

His thick brows snapped together.

“We are, we are! I’m just…so tired. I promise, I like where this is going. Maybe, another date can end with us in bed, or on whatever surface is available.”

Sasha played with the end of one of his locs, rolling it around her fingers. Evan exhaled and gave her a gentle smile before planting a kiss to her forehead.

“All good, baby girl. No worries. So, that means there will definitely be a next time?”

Sasha nodded her head, “Definitely.”

Evan groaned and it caused Sasha to laugh.

“You promise?” Evan said with the cutest pout.

“I promise.”

Evan kissed Sasha on her hand before backing away towards the elevator, still watching her from her doorway, uncaring if he knocked into something or someone in that hall. Sasha noticed a bulge in his jeans and felt bad that she had to send him away. She had to tell herself that it’s all good. Next time, Evan can have ALL OF HER.

When he finally left, Sasha closed and locked her door. She pressed her back against the door and took some time to gather the courage to confront the bogeyman. Thanks to him, her kitty will be without dick again. No, a vibrating dildo didn’t count. A real dick. Sasha folded her arms and on her way to her room she made a stop in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water since she was tipsy. Sasha left her flowers on the counter in her kitchen and made that eerie walk towards her darkened bedroom, preparing herself for another encounter with her bogeyman.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Sasha kicked off her heeled mules and sat her purse down on her dresser. She knew that it hated too much light, so she only kept the light on in the hallway. Sasha stood there, heart beating so fast, waiting for the monster to show himself. The sound of heavy breathing ghosted over her like chilly air and she shivered. She could hear his claws scratching at her bed, the sound growing louder the more he surfaced. What she hadn’t noticed until now, was smoking billowing from beneath the bed.

Sasha was stunned when the monster finally stood at its terrifying height, almost making her fall to her knees. She should be scared right now. Similar to last night, he’s cold-blooded, shadowed, and his body hovered over hers. His hand quickly moved up, a long, inhuman finger with the sharpest, blackest claw pressing against her glossy lips for her to keep quiet and not to scream. His dark eyes scanned her face intensely before staring deeply into her eyes once more. His finger on her mouth kept her quiet.

If it were anyone else, they would have run for the hills. The reason she didn’t, despite her situation, was because she knew who the bogeyman was before he’d turned into a monster. Her friend, Erik, was once so kind and loving. Maybe, if she believed again, she could help him. A strong manly smell wafted from him and it wasn’t unpleasant. Suddenly, he leaned down, his lips nearing her ear. Sasha began to shiver in anticipation when feeling his short breaths fan her neck. Her hand instinctively reached up to grab his shoulder, but was instantly stopped by his cold, gruff hand gripping her wrist and pushing it back down. The finger against her mouth slid down her cheek and caused a soft whimper to escape.

He softly chuckled, and it embarrassed Sasha.

“What’s so funny?!” Sasha cried, lips trembling.

“Your attempt at being unaffected by my presence. I know better than you know just how much I turn you on, Sasha.”

“Please,” Sasha said with a weak voice and a roll of her eyes.

He backed off to show her his whole stature. Yes, he does have a male body. Sasha scanned his entire body from head to toe, his body very toned with a muscular build. It’s true when they say sex appeal can change your mind instantly. Sasha was near drooling after eyeing him up and down for a good minute. Too bad those torn up pants covered his lower half.

“Point proven,” He chuckled, his voice still very frighteningly deep and feral.

Sasha held her breath when the bogeyman walked around her, leaning over her bare shoulder, taking one claw to lift her necklace.

“Isn’t this the gift that your grandmother gave you before she passed?” He asked with a low, guttural sound.

“It is…you said you wanted to make amends…what does that mean?”

The monster made his way back around to face her.

“It means that I want things to be what they used to be. I want to be your friend…your lover…”

“You were never my lover.”

The bogeyman growled.

“I know…you let some inexperienced boy take your innocence. Then, he broke your heart and you cried for days after that in your bed. I wanted to kill him.”

Sasha closed her eyes. She wanted to forget that piece of shit.

“That could have been me,” He said.

Sasha rolled her eyes with frustration and confusion, “How could it? You don’t truly exist. And what would you know about pleasing me?”

Sasha attempted to walk away but the bogeyman gripped her by the elbow. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What you fail to realize, Sasha, is that I’m a part of your imagination. Whatever you want, I can do. And you willingly opened your legs for me last night. Do you need a reminder?”

He didn’t give her time to respond when his sharp claw cut her top and skirt in half. The fabric fell to the floor in shreds and Sasha was just standing there in a black, lace, push-up bra with matching panties.

“What the fuck?! Why did you do that?!” She exclaimed.

“I did what you truly wanted me to do, Sasha. And you smell like him…like Evan.”

Sasha’s bottom lip trembled. She was sweating profusely. Sasha flinched when his cold finger caressed her chin tenderly.

“Did you have sex with him, Sasha?”

“No!” She yelled, “I only kissed him. That’s it!”

Even the knowledge of her kissing him angered him.

“Good thing he didn’t come in. I would have clawed a hole in his chest.”

“But you didn’t kill my ex…why?”

The bogeyman gave her a sharp glare, his black eyes searing right through her. Sasha’s heart stammered as he moved in on her closer. Desire swirled around her, deep into her core as he finally placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up to straddle him. Memories of last night were scalding in her mind, flashing across her body like a furnace set in flames.

“Were you thinking about Erik when you were with your ex? Remember, I am a part of your imagination. That part of you is what’s keeping me around, Sasha. I’ve always been here, just weaker…unable to act.”

The bogeyman placed Sasha on the bed, his body over hers. She stayed very still, nervously waiting to see what he would do next.

“You wanted to have sex with him, didn’t you Sasha?”

Sasha remained silent. But the answer was written all over her face.

“It’s been too long for you, Sasha,” his claw lightly dragged between her breasts and down the length of her body, “I can give you pleasure, Sasha. I can smell your scent…I can still taste you on my tongue.”

That tongue he was referring to poked out at her and it was as long as Venom’s if not close. She gasped at how wet and slimy it looked. His tongue disappeared and he smirked devilishly. There was a small part of her that told her not to do it, not to give into this monster's request. But, Sasha couldn’t ignore how aroused he made her feel. She wanted him to eat her pussy and possibly fuck her brains out.

When everything felt overwhelming, Sasha pounced, kissing him. He seized her, aggression in his actions before meeting her with a hot-blooded kiss. Heat burst inside her as she grabbed him, her hands roaming his ripped body, feeling every inch of his throbbing muscles. Sasha wrapped her legs around the boogeyman's waist and practically melted underneath the kiss that seemed to go on forever. It was a rough, penetrating kiss that was going to leave her lips bruised.

Sasha moaned when his long tongue slipped inside her mouth, tasting her. Her eyes went wide when she felt the tip of his snake-like tongue at the back of her throat. His teeth pricked her bottom lip and now Sasha could taste blood. She needed him to soothe the heat growing between her legs. Goosebumps crawled around her body, forcing the tiny hair to stand straight as the monster pressed her down, against her own bed. His giant hand stiffened around her jaw as he brushed his lips over hers. Her skin prickled, and his touch became unbearable.

Sasha pulled away for a second to catch her breath but he grabbed her face and slid his tongue back inside of her mouth, meeting with hers and tasting the sweet martini she had an hour ago. She was lost and all she could think about was how monster dick would feel inside of her. Sasha saw hunger in his eyes when he pulled away, and removed her bra with one rough stroke. She didn’t bother covering up. He wanted to see, she would let him. Her breasts, the size of honeydew melons with pretty brown nipples, stared back at him.

“I’m pleased that you didn’t hide yourself from me,” he growled in her ear before his tongue flicked her earlobe.

Taking hold of her hips, the bogeyman’s claws hooked into her lace panties and with a small tug they were ripped from her body. Taking hold of her legs, he dragged her back to him and hovered over her. His head went down to her left breast and that tongue of his licked all over her breast from top to bottom. A soft breath came out of her as his tongue flicked over her nipple. Her stomach dropped at that sight and her pussy clenched hard. His teeth grazed over her nipple and he pulled it into his mouth. She was afraid he’d bite down harder but he was careful not to.

Sasha gasped again when he started on her right breast, body crawling back. The bogeyman didn’t allow her to move. He grabbed her throat and kept her in place before going back to suck and lick her nipples. Sasha’s hips began rocking into his, rubbing her bare self against him. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, silently begging him to go lower. He growled in response and kissed his way up towards Sasha’s neck.

The monster smiled against her neck and murmured, “Don’t worry, I’ll stick my tongue in your pussy next…only if you’ll be a good girl for me, Sasha.”

“Yes!” She shouted, “I’ll be a good girl. Just please, bogeyman, do what you did to me last night…and finish this time.”

He lifted one leg over his shoulder and knelt down, “I’ll finish…but you have to take everything I give you, Sasha.”

Just fucking eat this pussy already.

He drove his slimy, long tongue inside of her wetness and thrashed it back and forth, sending waves of coaxing pleasure down her thighs. The scent of her arousal was thick and he could sniff it out. Sasha held her breath as his tongue twisted inside of her like a tentacle. She clenched tightly around his appendage repeatedly, walls convulsing out of control. She squirmed and grew wet at the feel of his tongue teasing and exploring every crevice down there. He grasped at her hips, lifting them off the bed as he buried his face deeply into her pussy. She ran her fingers through the ragged hair he had on his head, pushing his mouth against her pussy more. He licked and suckled away at her until she was putty in his hands.

“Fuuuck!!!” Sasha couldn’t find another way to express how good it felt.

The monster growled and grunted deeply in response.

He gently pressed the flesh of her labia between his lips, pulling gently, running his tongue back and forth across the tender surface. The monster pushed her thighs up and out with force, her hips lifting from the bed slightly, thrusting his tongue deeply into her, more deeply than she would have thought possible, exploring and tasting, unleashing sensations previously only dreamed about. He slowly extracted his tongue and drew it up to tease her clit. That beastly tongue of his loved in a languorous circle, Sasha’s breathing quickening and tiny jerks consuming her body. So much of her natural lubricant flooded his tongue.

“Fuck…oh fuck…oh shit…oh…fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Unable to resist any longer, Sasha came helplessly and sweetly into his insistent mouth. Her back arched and she gave a strangled cry and spread her legs wider, affording him a better taste of that which he had worked hard to release. She was quickly spent, he violently pushed her legs to her chest, exposing the glistening folds of her pussy, engorged with blood and electric with sensation. He hungrily thrust his tongue into her slick warmth, savoring Sasha’s flavor. Her core thrilled.

“Please…please stop,” Sasha’s words landed on deaf ears, “I can’t take anymore…oh…no…please…oh god!!!!”

The sound of his growls and grunts and the obscene slurping and licking the bogeyman was doing between her legs had her nipples stiff and her cum dripping from his lips. Even the sound of his claws dragging along her sheets aroused her. She was so small and fragile and all she could do was lay there and let him continue. She couldn’t count how many times he made her cum with his tongue. Sasha couldn’t feel anything between her legs and he hadn’t fucked her yet.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, Sasha….”

Her eyes lids dropped shut and she drifted off to sleep.

Sasha moaned in her sleep slightly as her head lolled to the side. She was asleep on her back with her thighs slightly parted and her pussy exposed, freshly waxed and swollen, clit peeking out, and soaked. The cool air of the room had her nipples hard. She looked delicious. The bogeyman watched her sleep for fifteen minutes, enamored with her beauty. Monster dick throbbing, he leaned forward to kiss Sasha. He was careful not to scratch her with his claws as his hand slid up her thigh.

Sasha moaned into his mouth and the insistent throbbing of his dick was killing him. Almost unbearable was the urge to touch her silky folds and bury himself up to the fucking hilt. A few more strokes to her thighs and he stopped caring that she was out cold. Unable to wait any longer, he tore what was left of his pants from his body and straddled her. Sasha was dead weight in his arms as he brought her legs to his broad shoulders, the difference in size between them intimidating. The biggest dick she’ll ever take arched towards her pussy and his swollen head twitched at her entrance.

She was too weak and too tired to fully engage him, but the way her body squirmed beneath his touch told him that she desired him even in her half sleep state. Fuck, she tasted so good. And there was something about how he could just lap at her folds, over and over again. Like she were on display just for him. He could still taste her on his tongue and now he wanted to feel her wrapped around his big, veiny dick. The bogeyman pulled Sasha’s legs up one by one and hooked them over his arms. His enormous dick head slid up and down her slit, wetting it.

Sasha’s face scrunched and her eyes opened slightly and before she could say a word a deep breath released from him before he pressed into her soft opening and her pink insides yielded to his penetration. He only had an inch inside before sliding out. Sasha was fully awake now and her thighs shook out of control. He wasn’t going to let her go and he wasn’t going to stop. The bogeyman thrust back inside two inches or so, then pulled out again. Sasha’s moans were loud and each time he went to enter her again she shivered.

“Sasha…you need to keep still for me to fit as much of this dick as I can inside of you…”

Sasha gawked at the dick in question. There was no way all of that—girth and all, would fit. The veiny ridges were threatening on its own. His balls were as big as her fist. His dick was curved upward and throbbing viciously. He was almost as thick as her wrist. If she had to guess, he had to be twelve inches long or more.

“That’s so much dick…it’s so big…” Sasha spoke with uncertainty.

“You will open up for me, Sasha. Just stay on your back and keep your legs open wide for me…good girl.”

The bogeyman had her by the ankles and pushed in again and again, adding another inch or so to every thrust. Soon, he had ten inches inside of her and that was enough to fill her to the hilt with monster dick. He rested his weight on his arms on either side of her as he pushed in and out, his eyes never leaving her face. Sasha’s entire body convulsed and the way she was clamping down around him felt suffocating. She couldn't form words or speak full sentences. Only sounds and uneven breaths.

“That’s it, Sasha…take me…cover my dick in your juices…you feel so good, Sasha…you’re so warm and wet for me…such a deep pussy…”

In and out, in and out, his pace would increase as he fucked her. Sasha ran her hands across his chest. In and out, he fucked her. In and out, in and out. He rotated his hips and Sasha’s mouth dropped open and her eyes crossed. Her nails scratched at his sides and the bogeyman arched his back and pushed inside her so deep. She gasped, he repeated the deep penetration several more times, going slowly inside and pulling slowly back out.

Fuck, yes,” Sasha choked out, shuddering.

The bogeyman pulled out for a second and then thrust back in so deep. Sasha felt her insides shattering along with her soul.

“Look at me, Sasha,” he said, ordering.

Sasha did her best to meet his piercing gaze. She felt lightheaded. He pumped into her faster now, listening to her breath quickening and watching her breasts bounce. His thrusts caused his hips to snap into hers sharply. At this point, Sasha was taking his dick like she’d done it before.

“Feel me…feel me in your stomach, Sasha.”

“I feel you…fuuuck, I’m about to cum!”

“Cum for me, Sasha,” He spoke with a growl.

Sasha cried out and clear liquid pushed him out of her pussy and all over his chest. He didn’t give her time to recover. He wanted to see her do that again. The bogeyman entered her with his curved dick and pulled out, a long stream following soon after. Her hips jerked on a loop and stream after stream covered him.

“And you were going to give this to Evan? When I can make you do this?”

He was back inside of her and bottomed out until she squirted on him again. He watched her body convulse as she orgasmed. No man has ever made her do that. She did it on his monster dick.

“I’m going to turn you over now, Sasha,” The bogeyman wasn’t asking. He turned Sasha around and put an arch in her back so low her ass was high in the air, “Don’t run, Sasha. Just give in to what you want and cum as many times as you want.”

Sasha wasn’t going to fight him. He sinked into her in one motion and even though she felt his dick in her chest she didn’t move. A single tear rolled down her cheek and he bottomed out so very, very deep.

“Are you filled now? Daddy are you done pushing inside of me?” Sasha asked with a panicked voice.

She felt a bulge in her belly and whimpered. More tears flooded her vision.

“Yes,” He hissed out, claws resting against her hips, “very filled.”

Sasha stretched her arms out in front of her and gripped the sheets. She smashed her face into the sheets and cried. Her tits swung from the force and her hips snapped forward as it ricocheted. The monstrous and deafening growl of the bogeyman was music to her ears. He loved her pussy.

“Oh, Fuck! Oooooohhhh!!!!!!”

Sasha cried out, up on her hands now, biting her lip, taking his dick. He could feel her pussy throbbing around him, pulsing with her fourth big orgasm of the night. He tried to undulate his hips so that he was still stimulating Sasha but she pushed at his abs. He grabbed her by both of her arms and pounded into her pussy for trying to stop him.

“I told you to be a good girl for me, Sasha!” He roared.

“UHHHH!!!!” She cried.

Her breath came out harsh.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take it anymore? Too bad…You’re going to take this dick until I fill you with my cum.”

“Please! Cum for me! I want you to cum for me!”

He withdrew his hips and Sasha fell to the bed in a heap.

“We’re not finished, Sasha, until I get mine,” He reminded her.

Sasha turned onto her back, body aching all over. The bogeyman pressed forward, picking her up with his arms hooked under her knees, lifting Sasha into the air. He tilted his hips and brought her down and around his dick in one motion. Sasha grabbed him by the neck and he laughed at her attempt at choking him. He bounced her in the air, dick filling her up so much. He had her folded in half, legs over his shoulders and his hands cupping her butt.

“Mmm…mmm…mmmm…” He moaned.

Sasha could do nothing but allow her body to sink down on his dick. She was like a rag doll. He rocked her body back and forth, controlling her motions. Despite how exhausted she was, that angle made her feel the length of his curve stroke her g-spot. Heat crept up her body and she seized, her cum coating his dick.

“Th–this feels so good,” She said, moaning when his tip hit an angle inside of her.

“Good…that’s what I want…I want you to feel good, Sasha…now, I’m going to go faster…I need you to cum for me one more time…I’m so close…”

On the edge of the bed now, he instructed her to hold her pussy open as he thrust his hips to fit as much dick inside of her. Her mouth finds him and they kiss, his tongue causing her to gag. Carefully, he reached up to wrap his hand around her neck. He didn’t apply too much pressure, which was the proper way of choking her. The bogeyman fucked her hard, his forehead resting against hers, his powerful hips moving at a pace Sasha couldn’t keep up with.

“I’m gonna cum!!!! Fuck me with that big dick!!!! Uuuhhhhh!!!!!!”

Sasha gave a weak cry.

“Oh…oh, Sasha…this good pussy…here it comes…keep that pussy open…Good girl…good girl!!!!”

“I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!”

The words left her mouth so fast.

“I BELIEVE! I BELIEVE!”

His hot jizz painted her walls. It was a lot, so much that when he slipped from inside her, more hot spurts painted her pussy lips. Sasha played with his cum with lazy strokes, eyes closed and body utterly spent.

“That…that was…that was…so good.”

The bogeyman stared at her with shock and what he felt was a complete transformation. Right before her, his appearance changed with a glow, all going unnoticed by Sasha once again put to bed by the monster beneath her bed.

@goddessofthundathighs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @nobodybaby93 @theegoldenchild @afriicanhoe @19jammmy  @abcdestinyyyy @whorderofthepheonix @shaekingshitup @tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh  @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold  @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser  @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @thehomierobbstark @abluesforlyssa @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions  @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara @honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @soulshinechronicles @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns  @jaysaidhi @shawnstacksss  @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102   @amyhennessyhouse @chaneajoyyy @dameshaemonique @glittermakesmesmile @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored  @ambthegamer @efonteno  @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog  @asweet-serendipity @ajspencer1892  @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21 @woah-express @bbgiirrll  @forbeautyandlife @cecereads209 @queenbetter @daddys-baby-girl-t @lovinthemelanin @ladymac82 @t3mporaa  @iv0rysoap  @naysianaee @nyleveeee  @woahthatshitfat  @scarypumkin23  @vikki240401 @enigmadivine @gingerylimonte @counterfeit-recherche @unholyxcumbucket @xdezaraex @missgigglesmoultrie @dashhoney25 @oversorry  @admirehermind @wassuduoo @kaykay0829 @woahitslucyylu @xsweetdellzx @amorestevens @tinystudentfirepurse @suburbanblackhoe @keiosha234 @bewitchedtbaby @crestsmile83 @dollfaceddom @majesticbrownjawn @lovelymari4 @endlessmockery @meunearthed @blackpinup22 @im5ftbutmythroat66 @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl   @richonne4life @alookintohersoul @youcantkillamutant @riveristhenameofhersong @queenfaithmarie @sourbabynaee  @dessianna1 @msincognito67 @themeirajay @toni9 @joanna-doe  @cool-fancyone @kehlaniswifee @bugngiz @soulfuljas @tinystudentfirepurse @childishgambinaax @callmemckenzieee @thesandbeneathmytoes

 @quirkless-lil-babygirl @bettybellecool-blog    @kendrastraphouse​ @thebaddien  @anafricandaydreamer  @mia-faith​ @beautifulgolden​ @satabando  @kokokonako @sexysativa605​ @thatssostallion​ @motheroffae​ @ordinaryornate @hoeboat101 @xunfriendly-black-hottiex    @quietstorm-73​   @jamaicanqueenaa  @lovelymari4  @theoneandonlynah  @lmxxo​ @kellseeysample @mrsgiveon @waveynaee @gloglamsparks @gigafaex @chcblndnrd75 @geemamii @pinkhandcuffs @kayyybeezzzzz  @itssbrie @mannarn  @kingillumination @kkrown    @lemmewritesomeish  @ispywithmylileye @queengodiva619 @retrochick350 @pink-calypso @miamormilan @tchallasbabymama @readingaddict1290 @novaniskye @theeblackbratzdoll @smokingangelhoe @beelyffe @koriireads @lishabaybeee-blog @chiddybangchiddy@tbmfanficreviews  @retrochick3500 @smollettmajors  @bombshellbre95 @kiabialia  @ah-blossom @koriireads  @phenomenal1500 @sensitivelegend @raviebechiefin @enigmadivine @ratedbadgal @richgirlaesthetics  @ursome890

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Puppy Boy - Animal Shelter Sihtric Long Fic

Ch 1 - This Fucking Kid

"Heya kiddo." Finan ruffles his young tennant's hair. Sihtric groans, almost spilling his milk. "I am not a kid, I am 21!" He yells. "You're a kid, kid." Finan chuckles, sitting opposite the young Dane. "How was yer day?" He asks. "A lot." Sihtric murmurs. "Oh?" Finan furrows his brow. "Kinda overstimulated right now." Sihtric replies.

Finan owns a construction company, he's well off and unattached. He lives his best life in a house he built himself and works from his home office. He's Irish and does everything his Catholic upbringing forbids.

Sihtric is all but a decate younger and rents Finan's attic. He works at the local animal shelter and could not be more different from Finan even if he tried. He's shy, peculiar and more often than not straight up bad with people. He gets along much better with the animals he takes care of. And he hasn't had a girlfriend since he was sixteen. He is not at all unattractive, though somewhat dorky and clumsy in the way he dresses. Even the glasses he wears are kind of cute.

"Need to leave ya alone for a while?" Finan asks. He knows how Sihtric is by now. Sihtric peers at his watch. The thing looks like he's had it since he was twelve. "When's Uhtred gona be here?" He asks. Finan throws a glance at the digital clock on the oven. "In half an hour or so." He replies. Sihtric groans softly and gets up. "I'll go take a shower and try to decompress a bit." He says. "Just be down by dinner. And it is okay if you go back up when it gets too crowded." Finan assures him.

Sihtric nods and heads upstairs to shower.

He let's the hot water run over him, pictures it washing him clean from all the stimuli of today. He takes Finan's body wash, liking the scent of it, much better than his own. He can't afford the luxurious products Finan has, but he knows Finan doesn't mind if he uses them from time to time.

Once's he's cleaned up, he allows his mind to wander.

At first, they don't go anywhere in particular, meandering to the pretty woman who adopted one of the bunnies today. Sihtric liked the look of her freckles and full, round breasts. His cock swiftly hardens and his hand wanders south. Groans tumble from his mouth as he strokes himself. His imagination runs wild, picturing warm, full breasts, leaking with milk. "Mama, please." He whimpers, tugging firmly on his cock. "G-gods." He sputters.

He cums quickly, painting the tiled wall of the shower generously with his seed.

He comes down for dinner, find Uhtred, Halig and Leofric already there.

"Hello boy." Uhtred purrs, eyeing Sihtric up and down. Sihtric flushes so brightly his glasses almost fog over. He knows Uhtred well, but never really gets used to the covetous way he's being looked at. Especially considering Uhtred has a wife and kids. "Heya nerd." Halig grins at Sihtric as the youth sits down. Sihtric smiles a small smile at him. Leofric just grunts at him. Leofric is in his 40s, he's got nothing in common with Sihtric. But it's fine, Sihtric does not mind.

Over dinner, Uhtred starts whinging about his employer and Leofric, who works for the same firm, assures Finan it is not that bad. Sihtric just sits by, shoving Finan's superior cooking into his face.

After dinner, the others pile in. Aethelwold, Edward, Aethelflaed and Erik, Haesten, Dagfin, Aldhelm and Aethelred, Eadith and Ragnar and Brida. Sihtric is pretty sure Finan wants to shack up with Eadith. The Irishman can barely keep his eyes off of her.

Sihtric joins in for a few round of whatever card game has been brought out, but quickly gets overstimulated, so retires to his bedroom. Only Aethelwold hassles him for it, but Sihtric doesn't care for that guy's opinion.

He puts his headphones on and listens to Valhalla Calling on repeat for half an hour at first.

He touches himself again after that, his jumper between his teeth, abs glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he strokes his thick, long cock. He doesn't really fantasize about anything. He just focusses on the feeling of fucking his fist. But of course he can't keep his mind on track. He wonders what it would feel to fuck a warm wet pussy, or a tight hot arse. To just slip into another person's body, feel their heat and pressure. "Oh Gods." He groans. He imagines what it would be like to drown in another person's scent. To press his face between two warm breasts or a firm chest and just inhale. He feels his climax building, his mind wandering further to suckling on hardened, sensitive nipples. To feel fingers rake through his hair and be praised.

It is the undoing of him. He spends himself all over his chest and abs.

It isn't that Sihtric is unattractive and he's had a few girlfriends in high school. He's kissed a boy in a club once. It was the only time he'd ever been to a club. And he made out with Uhtred when he got genuinely wine drunk. But all of that has been at least two years ago. He hasn't gone to a club in aaages. He hasn't made out with anyone in what feels like a decade, which it of course is not.

He's not a virgin, but the first time he's had sex, when he was seventeen, was uncomfortable and he just avoids it now. Not because he does not want to fuck. Gods he wants to fuck and be fucked in return. He has desire in spades. But he gets anxious when he thinks of the discomfort. He isn't even sure what the discomfort stemmed from, all he remembers from the entire ordeal was a fierce rash on his cock, but a clean STI test.

He doesn't have to work weekends. But still he spends all his time at the shelter. The animals never judge him for being odd. And the other people working the shelter got used to him being a bit a lot peculiar by now.

So eh heads out to the shelter saturday morning, after his morning work out. He works out twice a day, before work and before dinner. Working out makes his mind calm. He does the hard labour, bringing in heavy bags of kibble, cleaning the kennels and wrangling the big dogs. The weekend volunteers are very grateful that all they have to do now is feed the animals and socialise them.

After lunch he takes the dog for a run, each in turn. Running makes his head empty too. And the dogs love to get out of the kennel and show their best side. He does not draw too much attention, with his thick glasses and oversized hoodie. No one would suspect those hoodies hide rockhard abs and behind those glasses are mischievous eyes.

"Ah, Sihtric, there you are." One of the volunteers calls out, once he comes back from walking Tusker, a young staffie husky mix.

Sihtric quickly puts Tusker back into his kennel and goes up to the volunteer. "What's up?" He asks gently. The volunteer gestures him to follow into the office. Sihtric obliged, following to the elder lady in charge for today. "What can I do, ma'am?" He asks politely. "I need you to take Pretty to the vet, that hairball has been bothering her long enough now." The elder woman says. "Yes ma'am. I'll grab a carrier." Sihtric says diligently. "No need to, we already have her ready to go." The volunteer mixes in.

So he is brought Pretty, in her carried. "Thanks." He mumbles. Pretty hisses, she is uncomfortable. "Yeah yeah, I know." Sihtric cooes soothingly. He takes the carrier to his beat up old ford. Carefully he secures Pretty on the passenger chair and drives to the vet office in town.

You hear the front door bell chime. A walk in!

"Be right with you!" You cry out, making sure the file you were working on is saved. You get up from your desk and head into the waiting room.

You stand eye to eye with possibly the cutest boy you have ever seen. Holding a crate with the angriest cat you have ever heard. "Hi, who's this?" You ask. crouching before the crate. You peer into the crate, facing a moody calico persian. She hisses at you and you cast your eyes up at her person, waiting for an answer. You gaze up into dual coloured eyes, through glasses that magnify his long lashes. He looks so innocent it almost breaks your heart.

"What's her name?" You ask sweetly.

The youth swallows thickly. "P-pre- .. Pretty." He stammers. "And what is going on with Pretty?" You get back up and smile up at the young man. Fluster dusts his cheeks. "She .. she has a hairball stuck in her tract." He stutters. "Oh goodness, that is why she is so crabby, huh?" You cooe. "No... no, she is always like this." The youth shakes his head.

"How about we start with some paperwork, I'll get Pretty comfortable while you fill it out.¨ You cooe. "Yeah.. s-sure." He nods, extending you Pretty's crate. You take the crate and smile sweetly at him. "Come, follow me." You lead him to the treatment room. He eagerly follows after you.

You pull out some papers, handing them to the young man, while you put the crate on the sterilised table.

"Come here, pretty Pretty." You cooe. The persian hisses. "Alright, you take some bribery, I see." You chuckle. You grab a tube of chicken paste from a drawer and open it, holding it for Pretty to smell. Pretty cranes her neck and takes a little taste. "Good Gal." You cooe, slowly pulling your hand back. Pretty follows along to keep licking the chicken paste.

Sihtric feels his ears burn when he hears you praise Pretty. It unlocks something inside him and his jeans tent. He swears under his breath. This is not a bodily reaction he needs right now. He does his best to will his boner down, but you again praise Pretty for being so cooperative in exchange for yummy snacks. His cock throbs eagerly and he pulls his hoody over his crotch.

"I .. erm..." He has no idea what to say anymore, handing you the paperwork. He pointedly avoids looking you in the eye. "Thanks." You cooe, quickly reading through the form. "Sihtric Kjartansen?" You ask, to verify his name. "Yeah, I work for the local shelter." He replies. "So, Pretty is a shelter cat?" You ask. Sihtric nods. "Y-yeah." He stammers. "Why hasn't she been adopted yet?" You asked. "Cuz she is a bitch to everyone." Sihtric replies. You can't help a soft giggle.

"Now what is going on with Pretty?" You. "Hairball, won't pass. We have tried everything." Sihtric replies. He finds that it is easier to talk when he talks about the animals. Though he can't look you in the eye. "Are you giving her baths?" You ask. "N-no.." Sihtric stammers.

[apassingbird]

music tag game 🎵

rules: put your music on shuffle & list the first 10 songs + tag 10 people

chiquitita - laleh

fuel to the fire - rationale

november - azure ray

natural born lovers - erik hassle

say the thing that you forgot - king casio

all is violent all is bright - god is an astronaut

nostalgia locomotive - the mo

dougou badia - amadou et miriam (ft santigold)

lemon tree - fools garden

dying for a name - hannes aitman

thanks for tagging me @neverevan <3

i'm pressurlessly tagging: @mandycantdecide @magentamee @kalizawake @evnnkinard @comfortingevanbuckley @kinardbuckleys @canonbuck @ectonurites @foodiewithdahoodie @glorious-spoon

[putnamcapital]

S1/E3 Notes

The scene with Felice and Rousseau, and Rousseau refusing the jump, then the instructor says, “oh Rousseau is just nervous, we’ll let him rest.” When clearly the issue is that Felice is not riding well. It seemed insignificant but that whole scene is then about boundaries — the instructor never actually helps Felice to improve, because he doesn’t set a a boundary (you’re not doing it properly, here is how you can get better); whereas then Sara says, “my father is not coming to Parents’ Day because i have no contact with him b/c of what he did.” And Felice is stunned — stunned by being confronted by other people living with and setting boundaries. It made me realize how being a rich kid in this world is actually a state of profound abandonment. No wonder they go off the rails.

That whole phone call with Erik, Edvin does “kid brother wants floor to open also wants approval” so so well it makes my teeth hurt.

Gym hearteyes Wille i will love you forever, Simon can you roll my yoga mat tight like that but ALSO this is one of the many, many, many times that Wille runs after Simon. And he grabs him by the upper arm - which is … well … close - a close way to touch someone even when you’re ‘like that’ but you actually don't know each other that well. And Simon doesn’t flinch at all - despite all the ways he has been manhandled by people.

Blocking: Simon is made to fight his way through the wait staff when he’s hassling August; everyone moves out of August’s way.

Smysan: so expensive In the national anthem idiots-in-love segment, it finishes with the same frame / shot of Wille’s face as we get of Simon’s face before he kisses Wille — except here the aural context is “Sweden” (i.e. the Crown) and how it is Wille’s entire universe / problem When they file out of the pews, Wille looks back to where Simon was on the risers and our boy licks his lips. Right there. in plain sight. I have always thought the “there is no table for you” was a set-up by August. He knew the Erikssons would be there because of the choir. He had every detail of the dining arrangements sorted out, down to the flowers. By ‘forgetting’ these seats, he could then magnanimously ‘offer them’ to Simon as payment in kind for the money he owes him. Just like the whole speech at the gym was meant as payment in kind. Rosh: this is who you want you next to you in trench warfare - she gets to her feet the minute Simon goes for August. When Ayub and Rosh take Simon home, this is love as accountability (contra how the rich kids’ parents treat them). And Simon is left standing in the alley, and the shot is the same as when Wille later has that horrific phone call with his mother. But Simon isn’t alone in the same way. Simon and Sara, “you kissed the Prince” - and Simon brushes that one strand of hair out of Sara’s eyes and i melt every single time … and even more so now that I’ve seen Omar do that a few times for his mother. We’ve all seen s3 Wille’s bare shoulders all over the TL for weeks and i FINALLY saw why the image is so familiar and (for me at least) so deeply unsettling — because almost the entirety of the “he is about to find out Erik died” scene is the same shot - right up close to his shoulders, right behind him, the shoulders fill most of the frame, the camera is choppy — and then S1/E3 finishes with Wille alone, wrapping his arms around his own shoulders. Hence i am further convinced that that shot we got from S3 (where you also see the watch so clearly) is about Wille carrying the burden of the Crown and what it might do to (squash/smother/seduce) Simon.

[nevzatboyraz44]

Sahara desert,Africa

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

[satashiiwrites]

Snippet sunday/wip whenever

tagged by @outtoshatter for a wip whenever/snippet sunday. Tagging the usual suspects: @monsterrae1 @missanniewhimsy @quietborderline @westernlarch @rosieposiepuddingnpie @whimsyswastry @tkwritesdumbassassins @alyxmastershipper with no pressure tagging—this is just for fun.

From my July Rough Trade.

Title: Scintillation, chapter 4B

Pairing: main Winteriron, one sided Stucky, Erik Killmonger/T’Challa

Fandom: MCU

tags/warnings: canon typical violence, covers a lot of the events of Iron Man 2 with Tony’s inner commentary. First draft. Non-linear storytelling. Sentinel/guide AU. Tony is not a fan of Natasha atm.

Someone goes through a lot of effort to break Vanko out and make it look like he died.

Tony’s money is split between Senator Dickwad and North Korea—he’s leaning toward Stern, with maybe someone like Justin Hammer whispering bad ideas in his ear.  

Rhodey is smarter than doing something this dangerous and stupid, and he immediately messages saying it wasn’t him. Unfortunately, Rhodey also has zero idea which dark and damp hole Vanko has disappeared into. 

Tony instructs Jarvis to keep digging. Eventually, someone will make a mistake, and he’ll know where the Russian is. In the meantime, Tony gathers as much information as possible on Ivan and Anton Vanko. It turns out dear old Dad had known Anton, but the son is a thief and sold weapons to terrorists—even the Russians felt he deserved to be locked up and the key tossed away. 

Russian prisons are brutal. Tony’s been around the block before and met former prisoners, but Vanko makes his skin crawl more than usual. 

His data mining is interrupted by Rhodey warning him that he’s on thin ice with the military. Stern is doing everything in his not-inconsiderable power to try and force the turnover of Tony’s suits to the military, which Tony’s been trying to prevent for the last year. 

When will everyone understand that it’s the man within the suit that makes Iron Man special—not the prosthetics he wears? He wasn’t kidding in his senate testimony when he called the suit a prosthetic. It’s an extension of him and gives him possibilities, but it’s still his decision to pull the trigger and his brain marking targets. 

Take away the human element, and you’re looking at something worse than what happened in Gulmira. 

He won’t let that happen. 

So… he maybe wrecks his own party and house—it’ll make it easier for Pep to redecorate later so she can remove the parts that are too painful to remember about him. He has to push Rhodey to do what Tony needs him to do. If he just asked Rhodey, the man would focus too much on trying to save Tony that he’d defer taking what Tony wants him to have. 

He’s known Rhodey for a long time, and Tony is very aware of exactly when he crosses the line and can’t be ignored anymore. 

Tony needs to know Rhodey will take the shot when it matters. 

Rhodey does, and he takes the suit—or, as Rhodey later puts it, commandeers it. 

You stole it, Honey Bear, and I let you.

Tony is sleeping off the battle and maybe has a slight hangover when he wakes with a craving for donuts. His donut time is interrupted by none other than his royal sneakiness and wannabe pirate, Nick Fury. 

Fury gets in his face and is unimpressed by Tony’s chatter that’s designed to irritate and confuse. 

“I’m the realest person you’re ever going to meet,” Fury insists, but the effect is ruined by the smell of cherries coming from his mouth from the donut he’d just eaten. 

He’s also infuriatingly observant and points out the taint from the palladium that’s starting to creep up Tony’s neck. “What is that? It doesn’t look good.”

Tony is maybe hiding behind his sunglasses like a petulant child. He has a plan and wants to die in peace without being hassled by the spy of spies. 

“I’ve been worse.” He means hangovers, but Fury doesn’t take the line he’s selling. 

Of course, that’s when Natalie Rushman—I’m sorry, Natasha Romanoff—makes her presence known. She’s one of Fury’s pets. He should have known. That’s why she felt like silk stretched over solid steel.  

Tony thinks her ass looks good in her leather suit, but the hair hanging loose in curls is impractical. Pep would be on his side and snarkily observe that capes and long hair are terrible if you’re going to be in the superhero business. She-spy should take note. 

“We’ve secured the perimeter, but I don’t think we should hold it for too much longer,” she informs Fury, ignoring Tony. 

He immediately fires her, which she smugly informs him isn’t up to him, sitting next to Fury and snagging one of Tony’s donuts. 

Uncharitably, Tony hopes she chokes on it. 

[gerec]

Valentine’s Day Ficlet - Accidental Valentine’s Date

Anonymous asked: hm maybe have them end up on a date on valentine’s day by pure accident?

-----

Charles finally picks up the phone after the third emergency of the day, when Hank tells him about the ‘minor’ explosion on the third floor. Though he’s the CEO of Xavier Pharmaceuticals he’s still mostly a scientist at heart, and is very invested in the research that he helped to pioneer. He’s going to be very cross when he finds the culprit responsible for blowing up his lab, a state of the art facility he built to his custom specifications.

The phone connects after the first ring. “This is Lehnsherr.”

“Erik, hi, it’s Charles, Charles Xavier—”

“Charles,” Erik says, cutting him short. He can’t tell by the tone of voice if the man is wryly amused or genuinely annoyed by his call. “You’re not calling to reschedule again, are you? This is the second time in less than a week. I’m beginning to think you don’t actually want to go on this date.”

He bites his lip to stop from blurting out something rude, like how he doesn’t really have time to date, and that he only agreed to being set up on a blind date so Emma and his sister would stop hassling him about his sad personal life. And based on the short conversations they’ve had so far, he’s not sure he and Erik really have that much in common, besides how dedicated they are to their respective careers. Maybe he should just politely beg off so he can go back to putting out the fourteen fires he’s got going at once—

“Look,” Erik says, and this time he definitely sounds put out, which, considering he’s been mostly curt and dismissive every time they’ve chatted is pretty galling. “If you don’t want to go, just say so and stop wasting my time. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.”

Oh, the absolute nerve of this man – “Sounds like you’re the one looking for an out, Mr. Lehnsherr. I mean, my lab exploded today which is why I’m calling but if you think that’s not a good enough reason to reschedule than by all means, we can cancel outright.”

There’s a beat of silence before Erik asks, “An explosion? Was anyone hurt? Are you alright?”

“No, no one was hurt thankfully and I’m fine, thank you for asking.” He exhales loudly and adds, “Look, I really am sorry for cancelling tonight. Let me make it up to you. Tomorrow night, 7pm at Armando’s Bistro. The food is excellent there.”

“Tomorrow? Are you sure you can get us a table on such short notice?”

Charles bristles, but pushes down his annoyance at Erik’s incredulous tone. “Yes, yes I know the chef; he’s a good friend of mine. He’ll get us a good table.”

“Alright…tomorrow it is then. 7pm at Armando’s; I’ll meet you there.”

“See you tomorrow night.”

He hangs up and sighs, then immediately calls his assistant, Alex.

“I need you to get me a table for two at Armando’s tomorrow night at 7.”

“Tomorrow? You have a date on V—?”

“Yes, tomorrow, and please let Darwin know I want the works.” Charles is a catch, dammit, and he is determined to impress his sullen and (probably) judgemental date even if nothing comes of it but a good meal.

“Okay, boss. You got it.”

“Thank you,” he says before hanging up and promptly forgetting about it for the next 24 hours.

----

Charles gets to the restaurant five minutes early, only to be told that his date has already arrived. The hostess Angel smirks at him as she leads him to their table, which is at the back of the restaurant with a stunning view of the river. He notices a lot of besotted couples holding hands and smiling dopily at each other – even more than usual – and wonders if Darwin is offering some kind of Prix Fixe special for two on the menu.

He's momentarily stunned when he finds the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his life, seated at their table.

“Erik?” “Hello, Charles,” the man says, and oh, now that he’s close he can read intense interest radiating from his thoughts, impossible to glean during any of their previous conversations over the phone. Or perhaps the interest exists only now that he’s laid eyes on Charles for the first time, a little ruffled and still in the blue suit he wore at the office. “Nice to finally meet you,” he adds with a sly smirk, sharp eyes taking Charles in from his head to his toes.

“Likewise,” he answers, and when they reach to shake hands the touch electrifies him to the core. Charles finds himself completely entranced by the brilliant mind inside the lithe body, his focus so fixed on Erik that he barely hears what the waiter says, nor does he wonder why they’re given no menus to peruse.

“We didn’t order this,” Charles says, when the waiter – Sean – arrives as they exchange pleasantries, delivering a bottle of Dom Perignon and two crystal flutes. He returns immediately afterwards with two lovely plates of appetizers; a dozen raw oysters with trimmings along with another dozen baked in butter, breadcrumbs and Grana Padano cheese. “Is this on tonight’s fixed menu?”

“Oh no, Mr. Xavier. This is a very special meal the chef designed just for you and your guest - a romantic and sensual journey for the senses! Happy Valentine’s Day to you both.”

He has no idea what expression he makes, but Erik starts chuckling, and reaches to pat his hand. “You had no idea today was Valentine’s Day, did you, Charles?”

Truthfully, he can’t remember the last time he looked at the date on the calendar, since he relies almost exclusively on Alex to get him to meetings at the right place and the right time. Of course, now the ambience and the clientele in the restaurant make perfect sense, though he’s a bit mortified that he’s essentially forced Erik to agree to a blind date on Valentine’s Day of all days.

Then, he remembers asking the restaurant for ‘the works’ and groans, realizing he all but demanded the outlandish meal Darwin has clearly planned for the evening.

“No, I’m so sorry! I know this is way too much for a first date—”

“So…now’s maybe not a good time to tell you that I’m Jewish and can’t eat shellfish?”

“Oh! Oh, no, Erik! Oh my god—”

Erik grins at him with all teeth, which Charles finds stupidly attractive even in the midst of his rising panic. “Charles, Charles! I’m just kidding! I don’t keep Kosher.”

“You—” He starts laughing, embarrassment and annoyance deflating at the way Erik is radiating warmth and genuine delight over Charles and his predicament. Maybe the date is still salvageable, he thinks, if they go somewhere with less pressure and expectation for full throttle romance with a capital ‘R’. “Ugh, this is a disaster. Do you want to get out of here? Maybe go grab a beer and wings?”

Instead of answering him, Erik merely waves to get their waiter’s attention.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Can you tell us what else we’ll be having for our ‘romantic and sensual journey for the senses’?”

Charles snorts, barely holding back his laughter as Erik gives him a conspiring wink. Entirely unruffled, and pointedly ignoring their snickering, Sean dutifully recites the rest of the menu.

“For the main course, a 40 ounce, Prime Angus Porterhouse steak for two, aged 45 days and served rare with foie gras sauce as well as ‘His and His’ lobsters. And for dessert, Swiss chocolate martinis alongside a Madagascar vanilla soufflé for sharing.”

Erik leans in and gives a considering hum. “I don’t know about you, Charles, but I think that sounds too good to pass up. Plus, you owe me a nice meal for rescheduling on me twice. Why don’t we stay, and see what the rest of the night brings?”

Then he feels the press of Erik’s thoughts directed right at him – a skill taught by Emma no doubt, considering their close friendship – the words accompanied by images of after dinner, with a confidence that Charles finds utterly charming, Do you think they’ll make us some chocolate dipped strawberries to go?

“Yes, that’s an excellent idea,” he says, letting Erik know he’s answering both questions with a cheeky smile. “Can I pour you some more champagne, Mr. Lehnsherr?”

[les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques]

A little more of what I’m up to:

If I ever let you leave Mazanderan, Behrouz once said, wind rifling through his hair, you must promise me there will be no more reckless violence. No more death upon your hands. There is a worthy man somewhere inside of you. Make something good with him.

At first, Erik laughed—right in his little Daroga’s bonny face, blessings on its memory—at the impossibility of such a promise. A man composed of death from head-to-toe had a right to his natural trade; take a sailor off the water and he will stumble around terra firma on his sea legs, after all.

But as the decades began to creep up on his tenure in Paris, Erik was mildly pleased to learn that there was little difference between killing and making art; perhaps it was why it had become so easy to replace one with the other almost entirely, save for a necessary indulgence. Destroy a sheet of newsprint, or else smatter it with carmine lake, rich as blood. Squeeze the life from a metal tube of paint, grind a pencil into a useless stub, and watch them slowly crumple into uselessness before your eyes. To say nothing of how hanging or stretching out a canvas was a considerably tidier affair than hanging or stretching out a men. Canvas did not piss itself or beg for god, did not leave behind wailing widows or round-eyed children. You were its god. You, its lover. You, the one who remained behind to witness their legacy.

Besides, it is not the inherently good man who makes art, or so he told himself, whenever his past sins slinked up against his memory like a cat. Rather, it is the man searching for his own meaning who does.

And ashamed as he was to admit it, music seemed to only bring pain these days. For though his violin inevitably found its way into his hands on a regular basis, song always blew through him like wind, biting and fast-fleeting. Such was first love grown cold, or so the poets said. Yet despite his crimes, he was young enough to believe a part of him was still capable of creating some sliver of beauty. Architecture had returned to him naturally in this phase of life, yet the Opera was Garnier’s child, however much he might interfere and hassle the man otherwise. And at the end of the day, whatever else he designed on his own terms, he was still building worlds for other men to inhabit. Men who still could live in this one unmolested and admired, despite their transgressions.

Such were the hard truths to confront in trying to exist like those men, nevermind the nightmare of his face: that music was ingrained and inevitable, impossible to forget because of the way it had woven itself around the tragedy that was his existence. That destroying buildings required a level of violence which he told himself was no longer within him. But drawings—paintings—ah! They were like mirrors. Easily smashed, highly forgettable if you saw enough of them in this world. And every day, a new luminary rose amongst society, only to be forgotten amongst a fresh wave of other image-makers. Fair play, then. Let him be a creator and an iconoclast—it was a step above being a monster.

It was in keeping with this train of thought that he dragged himself to the Salon that spring of 1865, false nose in place, ready to brave the brunt of a Paris thirsty for meaning in this rare period of bucolic nothingness. He’d been out of the world for most of his life, yet never had Erik felt the longing to finally join it so keenly; it whispered, low and lovely, that such a world was only just slightly out of his reach. And why should he believe otherwise? He’d a beautiful home on a quiet street in Montparnasse, a small office staffed with a handful of spineless but otherwise competent yes men, and a contract to one of the most important projects the city had seen in decades—perhaps centuries. Barring his ugliness, he was almost a gentleman. And modern gentlemen, it was understood, were men of art.

All of the chatter around that season’s exhibition concerned Manet’s latest ode to Paris: a massive vignette depicting some lady of ill-repute and her maid, the former staring directly at the viewer like she was Venus herself and not some stunted, stubby-legged creature summoned from the depths of Pigalle; he laughed when first saw it, delighted in the fact that most people in the room were horrified enough by her presence to ignore his entirely—despite the fact that a million such women floated in and our of their lives as easily as the breeze. Despite the fact that such women fucked the attending husbands, enraged their poor wives, and spent the money that might have gone to their children or good names on whatever it took to survive and, perhaps, survive well.

From beneath the wide brim of his hat, Erik glanced around the gallery; he imagined spotting his darling Behrouz’s amused scandal, found himself hoping to spot a convivial smile, or some other scrap of kindred humanity. Something to tell him that he was not completely alone in the world as he always knew was, deep down.

That was how he first saw her: a tall camellia amongst withering irises, dressed from head to toe in black silk despite the delightful May weather. Beneath the little veil on her hat was a face worthy of Marianne—a straight, patrician nose; wide, almondine eyes; a mouth that looked as if it were sculpted for the sole purpose of indiscriminate, egalitarian kissing. But as beautiful as she was, it was the expression on her face that arrested him so. It was hard to describe, save for that it was something like a mixture of humiliation and proud understanding—the same emotion he felt as the crowds of Nizhny Novgorod showered him in gold in praise of his ugliness. Her spine remained ramrod straight all the while, despite the large man on her arm chortling and whispering something in her ear, the corner of her mouth downturning ever so slightly. Even as her chaperone walked away, she remained fixed in that position, save for the occasional nervous swipe of a gloved thumb over her parasol’s handle.

And somewhere, above the offended din of the masses, Erik heard a music he’d long forgotten—the awful thumping of his heart.

[pencilofawesomeness]

Who was gajeels partner for s-class exams in your htryds au?

Levy! In the X783 trial that Gajeel won and earned S-Class, Levy was his partner. I can't remember if I mentioned it or not, but I definitely had it in mind. (Though he asked Erik first, since Erik "won Jellal his seat" the previous year, but Erik refused, because those trials are too much hassle, and he "only did it for Jellal because he was being an idiot".)

For that matter, Erik also had to refuse Natsu, and it *almost* set a no-sibling precedent (at least for that year) except Sting and Happy ended up dueling via rock-paper-scissors, and Happy won because he has paws and he is also a little liar.

As for Levy, Gajeel pretty much asked point blank, because they're friends and he also thinks her magic is versatile. Jet was offended that he wasn't asked for .3 seconds until Gajeel reminded him that the trials started at butt-early in the morning, and Droy wished them luck before Levy even responded. She was nervous at first because she thought her and Jellal's stint went badly because of her own doing (it wasn't), but helping Gajeel win was a good confidence booster. One she certainly needed because her time in the trials is next, mwuahaha.

[aviesims]

Erik bought the kids their very first bikes. He initially wanted to get one just for Jaden because his pent up energy made bedtime a hassle, but decided to get one for all of them.

He instructed them all on what to do with the help of Momo. Jaden picked it up the easiest but all of them were thrilled to play with their new bikes. After having some trial runs on their backyard Erik decided they were ready to go out.

Momo was tasked with cycling with them and teach them the ropes, which forced him to ride his bike he last used at college. Momo thought this whole thing might've been an elaborate scheme to get them to exercise. At least the kids were very slow and didn't tire Momo out that much.