#especially near roads??? it's insane??

[cowboyhat]

Just keep your dog on a fucking leash it's not that hard

[propertyofwicked]

speed demon - LN

warnings: speeding + dangerous driving, references to sex

short fluff :) fewtrell!reader -> can be read as a stand alone or an extra to the secrets series!

my take on a BTS of the quadrant athletes video with willne and bambinobecky :) p.s hey caitlin i know ur reading this

lando’s girlfriend was a concerning driver. growing up in the english country side, especially with her racing-mad brother max, she became very accustomed to driving at insane speeds down backroads, learning where the swerve potholes and where all the cameras were. honestly, put her in an f1 car with a good song and watch max verstappen crumble.

her brother and his friend could speed around race tracks, y/n preferred real roads.

the only flaw in her driving ability arose when lando, who notoriously hates being a passenger, sat to her left, gripping any hard surface he could as his girlfriend threw her car around a corner.

“y/n, angel, you know i love you - but why do you drive like you had somewhere to be 10 minutes ago?”

“this is a good song,” she answered with a shrug, which only confused him further, yet she slowed down, glancing at the man besides her, “it’s got a good bassline. you literally drive at like 200 miles an hour and yet you’re getting stressed about me going 80 on an empty road?”

“the difference between you and me is that i wear a helmet when i drive that fast.”

“no one is stopping you from putting a helmet on in my car, lan.”

“erm, i think the national speed sign meaning 60mph should be enough that i shouldn’t need to wear a helmet in your car y/n.”

“god you’re so dramatic, lando - has anyone ever told you that?”

“yes. you. the last time i complained about your driving, you little speed demon,” he said, finally laughing quietly at the situation.

in fact, they were late. they were supposed to be at a quadrant shoot in 10 minutes, but still needed to pick up will and becky from the station near to the warehouse they were filming in. when they finally reached the station, lando jumped out of the car to meet them, leaving y/n to sit in silence, queuing a few songs for the short journey to the shooting location.

“y’alright y/n?” will asked, climibing into the back seat of her car, becky climbing in from the other side.

“i’m good, thank you will. how are you?”

“im good, however i’ll let you know how i feel after ive experienced your driving,” he joked, earning a guilty chuckle from lando who was buckling himself back into the passenger seat. her hand rose, slapping his arm lightly.

“hey! my driving is not that bad.”

“let them find that out for themselves, angel,” he responded, dramatically rubbing his arm, feigning pain. she ignored him, shoving the car into gear before jamming her foot onto the accelerator, the loud engine loud enough to wake the dead.

when they did arrive at the shoot, will had gone silent, his face paler than usual. becky was still smiling and chatting, but her face conveyed the same level of fear as wills. the group of them walked into the warehouse, where max was already waiting.

y/n walked up to max, taking him in a small embrace before stepping back to let him greet the rest of the group.

“will? you good man? you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” max said, taking a step back to look at the man a second time.

“yeah, yeah, im good,” he responded, smiling sheepishly. y/n absentmindedly played with her car keys, the jingling of her key rings raising max’s attention.

“lando let you drive? jesus, no wonder will looks like he needs a fresh pair of trousers,” max laughed, doubling over.

“why does everyone think im such a bad driver? i have not crashed once. never. not a single crash. the same cannot be said for you or lando, max,” she exclaimed, beginning to feel offended at the accusations.

“in all fairness, lando warned me. i thought he was joking when he said she loved the accelerator more than she loves him,” will replied, the colour coming back to his face as he smiled. max shook his head at his sister again, before directing will and becky round to the sofas, running them through the plans for the day.

y/n felt a warm pair of arms snake around her body from behind, lando’s head coming to rest on her shoulder. he turned his head to look at her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“im not actually a bad driver, am i?” she mumbled to him.

“no angel, people are just jealous of your sheer ability to drive at dangerous speeds and do it safely,” he responded, he meant to be sincere but y/n could feel the sarcastic undertones.

she shook her head at him, pulling away from his embrace, but his hand reached out, latching onto hers, before pulling her back into him. this time her chest melted into his, her head tilting to glance up at him.

“i hate this scarf,” she announced, but stretched her neck up to presses soft kisses along his jaw.

“ouch. why? i like it.”

“’cos it covers your neck. i love your neck,” she said, smiling up at him again.

“i know you do angel. your love for my neck is the reason i have to wear a scarf for the shoot today,” he said, laughing, his hands moving from her back to push loose strands of her behind her ears. a blush rose up her cheeks at the memory of the night before, as her fingers moved to pull the scarf down slightly looking at the bruises beginning to darken on his skin.

she hadn't meant to, but she had found herself on top of him last night, legs straddling him as his pushed up into her. with max only a room over, she needed to find an outlet for the noises she wanted to make and his neck fell victim.

“whoopsies. but im sure the lando girlies would love to see you with hickies.”

“i’m sure they would,” he said, grinning at her still and nodding slightly, “im sure your brother would love it to,” he added sarcastically, glancing over to the man in question who was now handing becky a script.

she tutted in response, pulling his scarf back up to covering his neck. lando’s head tilted down to look at her again, using his hands on her jaw to pull her face up closer to his. his lips pressed soft kisses to her forehead and cheeks before finally planting a soft but quick peck to her lips.

“lando did you want to stop getting it on with my sister and come and do your job?” max bellowed from across the room, pulling the two apart.

lando decided he should probably drive the two of them home that day, and let max take the others back to the station, but the moment the car moved off from where it was parked, he stalled the engine.

"formula 1 driver but can't drive a manual without stalling it. that's embarrassing - now who can't drive?" she joked, laughing at him as he restarted the ignition.

"still you," he replied bluntly, his foot slamming down on the accelerator sending the car flying across the car park.

"please don't destroy my car," she begged quietly at the sound of her engine about to take off, "a man i quite like bought it for me and id hate to make him angry when he has to buy me new tyres."

"ill just buy you another car," he joked as he returned to the speed limit of the road ahead, his hand moving from the gear stick to rest on her thigh, grabbing lightly at it.

"you're not a bad driver, you know that, don't you angel?" he said after a few minutes of silence. he'd admit that she wasn't the best driver, but she was still skilled even if slightly reckless.

"i know," she said, her voice still heavy with the annoyance from everyone's teasing.

"you would be great at karting, you know?"

"stop it - i spent my entire childhood trying to avoid karting please do not bring it into my adulthood," she begged, albeit jokingly.

"why did you avoid it? im sure max would've loved to race with you," lando asked, glancing to his side to look at her face, her head leaning on the door panel.

"it was max's thing, i guess. i didn't want to do what he did. i wanted to be my own person. i still do," she said with a shrug. lando's hand moved from her thigh to grab hers, pulling it up to his face to press a kiss to the back of it.

"i'm glad you're unapologetically you. i don't think i could cope with two max's in my life. or two of you for that matter."

[moonlight-prose]

WONDERING WHY

a/n: this is for the logan promptober hosted by the lovely @silverskyeline! i'm not gonna do the whole list cause i would stress myself out to an insane degree. but a few caught my eye. so i've thrown together some small fics for the man himself in the hopes of scattering them throughout october. this is also late one day cause of well me having a shitty time in life rn. but i hope y'all enjoy!

logan promptober: day six - cowboy

summary: loving logan howlett felt like loving a ghost. he returned when the moon hung low in the sky and his time gave way for freedom. but when you needed him most, he arrived on your doorstep with the promise of giving you exactly what you want.

word count: 3.5k+

pairing: cowboy!old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI IT'S 18+ ONLY, romance, love, angst, longing, pining, they're obsessed with each other, filthy kissing, p in v sex, rough sex, spit, choking (sorta), calling the pussy her/she, he's an old man who fucks insanely well, feral old man logan.

Pale moonlight brushed across the Earth with strokes of paint. Stars were sprinkled along the night sky, glimmering in darkness as you leaned against the doorway of your home. The lantern flame flickered with each waft of cool air that breezed past you. Pooling inside where a fire cracked and sparked—offering enough warmth to keep you sated for the remainder of time.

At least until he returned home.

You listened for the familiar clop of hooves, the click of his tongue guiding the horse where to go. Hoping that eventually he’d turn the bend in the dirt road and find his way back to the safety of your shared bed.

This was a routine you knew well—one you found solace in as the days grew short and sunlight became sparse. In summer he often returned when the clock struck midnight; the weariness of a long day spent riding through towns and hunting with others was normal. If a little grueling. Although you never complained. You knew who he was when you met him—understood the ups and downs of what this relationship would be.

Logan wasn’t anything if true to his word right at the start. I’m not gonna be here every day sugar, but I’ll be here when you need me.

Eventually you’d have to blow out the lantern and amble back indoors. Calling it quits on yet another night spent alone. He didn’t like it when you were out past a certain time—raiders and hunters alike were more than willing to break in without remorse. Especially if they didn’t know who resided inside, who shared your bed on nights like tonight.

“I need you,” you sighed, shutting your eyes to the sight of an empty road.

They were empty words of hope strung together to make a wish on whatever star caught your eye. Rarely did they work. Although some nights you wondered if magic twined with your solemn prayer—summoning the man you so desperately wanted. It was wishful thinking, a well full of reverie you continuously drank from. Although maybe it was the poison that would one day cause you to drop dead. Maybe…Logan was a figment of all that you could never have.

He might not even exist.

Your eyes fluttered open, glancing up at the sky with anticipation of a falling star. The echo of hooves along dirt drew your attention from your nightly ritual—curiosity pulling you close and whispering promises of giving you everything you wanted. It was probably a stranger. Someone looking for an easy place to spend the night. Logan always told you to say no with a shotgun in your hands, and your body tensed in preparation to grab for the gun propped near the doorway.

Relief flooded your veins at the sight of a familiar dark brown leather coat, his hat tipped low enough to hide the eyes that loomed beneath—glinting with a darkness you'd only seen once or twice in your time together. Calloused and scarred hands gripped loosley at the reins as the horse trotted up the path—finding it's way home with ease.

There was a pull between the two of you. Insatiable and feral and strong enough to have him searching for you the second he drew closer to the house. Hazel eyes fatigued by the long trip back locked onto your form. Plush skin and curves hidden beneath layers of a dress you had yet to strip off.

You would leave that to him, knowing how much he enjoyed tugging at the strings of your corset—undoing the buttons to set you free.

"Gonna catch your fuckin' death," he muttered, his boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. You relished the sound, unable to stop your smile.

"I was waiting for you."

He huffed, wrapped the reins around the wooden fence he built steadily over the years—the leather bag on his saddle now strapped over his wide shoulder. "Shouldn't be waitin' on a man like me sugar."

"You always say that."

"And I'm always right."

"Would you prefer I wait on someone else?" you inquired, a challenge glinting in your eyes.

He bit back a growl, hand settling on your hip to drag you to the edge of the front step as he stepped to the one below. "Are you tryin' to tell me somethin'?"

The possession in his eyes made your heart race, your fingers digging into the soft leather permeated by the scent of cigars smoked in various saloons. He felt familiar, a home you didn't know could exist within another person. The house you two built resided in his heart; the missing piece you searched for on nights spent without him. But now you had it in your grasp—fitting it back into place with a sigh of bliss.

The picture of peace finally pressed itself to your soul, caressing a part of your love that left each time he mounted his horse—the promise of coming home on the tip of his tongue.

"I haven't found someone else yet, but I very well could-"

The rumble in his chest was layered with everything he'd never say with words. "Try it," he growled. "And I'll have to make a fuckin' graveyard out back."

Heat pooled rapidly into your stomach, elation fluttering through your heart. You knew an animal hid in the depths of his chest. Feral with claws and teeth that snapped at the thought of someone taking what was his. You'd never belong to someone else. You'd never want to. The echo of his words seared into your mind, a vow of forever etched into each vowel and consonant.

He was home. He was here. He was real.

"There's no one else," you murmured, leaning your forehead against his—lips brushing against his with each soft admission. "There could never be anyone else."

All that would go unspoken, all neither of you could say.

I love you. I'll love you forever. Whatever this is…it will only end when we're buried six feet under.

"Good," he replied gruffly. "Now give your old man a proper fuckin' welcome."

The smile you wore deepened as his warm hand cupped your cheek. His skin was dry from the leather and a few cuts were scattered here and there, but nothing could resemble this. The blooming heat that spread across your chest like the roots of an ancient tree. He held you with a tenderness that might have shocked you at first—the fear of harming you burning hot in his stomach.

But this was how he always touched you. With a love that couldn't be replaced. A promise soldified in the lines of his palm, fate driven and earthly bound, and yours forevermore.

Finding his lips beneath his hat, you let go of the breath held deep in your lungs. The taste of his cigars spread on your tongue. A familiar morsel of home you gravitated towards. Later in the evening—when you were both lethargic and naked and covered in all sorts of fluids—he'd puff on a brand new cigar. Giving you taste with lazy kisses and smiles traded in the dark of night.

"Missed you Logan," you mumbled, tongue sliding against his with a breathy moan. "I always miss you."

He chuckled, deep enough to vibrate against your chest—his hands sliding down to grip your waist. "You wanna show me how much?"

"You'd like that huh." Smiling into the kiss, you felt his teeth dig into your lips. He sucked it with a groan, fingers digging harshly into the layers of fabric.

"Mhm." His breath was harsh against your cheek, each kiss filled with a need to ravage what belonged to him. To prove he still held space in your heart. "Missed you every fuckin' day sugar."

You laughed, toying with the hair at the base of his skull—curling your fingers around it to tug him back. The moan he rewarded you with made saliva pool in your mouth. His eyes watched you, dazed with want, mouth parted and swollen from your kisses. And you burned the image of him in your mind.

"You wanna show me how much baby?" you breathed, brushing your lips to his with a teasing laugh.

A biting growl ripped from his throat. "Get inside before I take you out here."

"There's an idea."

The harsh slap to your hip dragged a peal of laughter out of your chest. Stumbling back, your hands yanking the hat off his heat and working the jacket down his arms, you kissed him as if you'd never get the chance to again. Wet and spit slicked. Until your teeth clashed together and his tongue was halfway down your throat. Each moan that dripped from his mouth into yours felt like a fucking reward.

A blissful reminder that you weren't alone; he stood before you, frenzied and aching to feel your skin on his.

Logan couldn't figure out how he wound up in this haven. A home, a lover that stole his breath with each look, and forever right on the horizon. Years spent alone only offered the promise of torment, of a life overflowing with an endless amount of pain.

But for some unknown reason, the sun that used to sear his skin now stood before him lighting the pathway home. The brilliance of you blinded him—warmed every cold aspect that resided in the depths of his chest. Yet he'd rather spend the rest of his life in your fierce heat than suffer in the biting cold again.

Oh how lucky he felt just getting the chance to burn.

Desire simmered sharply in the base of your stomach the further you got into the house—his teeth biting down to the column of your throat, fingers toying with the laces of your corest. He devoured you like a sweet thing to be had. A treat he rarely got to partake in tasting. And fuck if he wasn't going to take his time. You clawed at his shirt, pulling it up and off his body with a hoarse shout of glee—nails piercing the flesh of his shoulders as he yanked your leg around his hip.

He practically dragged you to the small bedroom, tearing off the clothing as he went with harsh snarls of want. You'd worry about mending the fabric later in the morning. Or perhaps the day after that. Given how you could feel the heft of his cock through his pants, pressing to your stomach with each small shift of your body.

"On the bed." The command was punctuated with a slap to your ass—a sharp bite against the skin of your collarbone drew a soft moan to the surface.

He tugged the front of your corset down, dropping to the ground with the remainder of your skirts. Baring yourself to Logan with a smile, you felt the emptiness slip down onto the wood of the bedroom floor. Expelling from your body with each panted breath and soft carress. He turned you inside out with the smallest of actions—the barest of touches.

The time he spent alone and wrapped in thoughts of you became all he lived off of. Your memory turned into the reason he stayed alive.

Unlike so much of his life he now held an answer to why he dragged himself home. Why he forced himself to keep going.

"Lemme see her." His hand wrapped around your leg, pulling open your thighs for him to catch a glimpse of what lay between.

You'd been dripping since he arrived. A sticky wet mess that begged for his attention. Logan salivated at the sight, his eyes zeroing in on the way you glistened for him. On any other night he'd sit you on his face in a quick attempt at gaining the close proximity he longed for when he was gone. Tonight served for a different want—a biting need that dug its teeth into his skin.

"She missed me huh," he mumbled, thumb sliding through your wet folds.

You moaned, breathy and restless. "She did baby."

"'M gonna give her what she needs."

"Logan," you sighed, hand outstretched for him to take. "Need you close."

Every nerve lit like a fuse when he gifted you with a full smile. "I will sugar. Lemme just look at ya first huh?"

With a nod you let your legs spread apart, arms draped above your head. The sight of you stole his breath, but you didn't fare any better. His skin scattered with scars you kissed a thousand times over still rendered you incapable of speaking. Hell you weren't even sure you'd taken a breath since he walked through the door.

Though his body was worn and his hair was graying, you couldn't deny he remained the most beautiful man you ever set your eyes on.

"Like what you're lookin' at?"

Your grin was lazy, eyes overflowing with a language Logan once thought he'd never learn yet now could be considered fluent in. Love.

"I really do," you whispered, sharing the secret with him. The words rarely spoken were shouted at the top of your lungs in each loving praise.

He shook them off when you first met him. Claimed they were false words to make yourself feel better about loving an animal who walked and talked like a human. Although, over time he allowed them to sink into his skin, bathe over his broken and weary soul.

They held him together like a ribbon tied through his soul, placed neatly in a bow on his heart.

His hand was swift in undoing his belt, pushing the remainder of his clothes off to join yours heaped on the floor. And you drank in the sight of the man you adored climbing over your body with a hungry gaze. Your heart flipped, grip sliding along his back as you welcomed him in between your legs—the heavy weight of his cock a warm press against your thigh.

"Welcome home." The smile melded into the kiss he placed on your lips, tongue sliding in the curve along your teeth, to taste every bit of you he could reach.

Bucking your hips into his, you dug your nails into his lower back in the hopes that he'd move. He swallowed your whine, spit trailing down your chin when he pulled back to catch his breath. Moving slowly never worked for you—entirely used to the man who broke you with the intent of putting you back together—and right now was no exception. The torment of not having him tore at your heart, put a splinter in the longing simply to crack you in two even further.

"Hold still," he grunted, his hand shoving your hips back onto the bed. "Movin' so fuckin' much I'm gonna have to tie you down."

Your gasp was wet—needy. "Please. Fuck please-"

"Right." His other hand slid up your torso to rest against the base of your throat—thumb running along the smooth skin that covered your racing pulse. "I forgot who you are, sugar. You'd like that huh?"

Teeth tore at your bottom lip, eyes glazed and pupils blown wide the longer he held you there. Anticipation fried your nerves with each second that passed. But Logan wasn't a cruel man. He knew what you ached for—what you'd give up everything for. The closeness of the man you loved; a chance to have his body, heart, and soul.

Gripping himself, he tapped his cock against your clit, sliding through your slick with a stunted moan. A smile bloomed across his lips at your responding moan—fire streaking down your spine, curling along your limbs. He could drive you to madness and yet you'd thank him each time.

You would be grateful for anything he gave you.

"Don't get quiet on me now." His lips trailed along your cheek as he notched himself at your entrance. "Go on and sing for me sweetheart."

He sunk in with a smooth thrust, stretching you with slickened pain and a hoarse moan against the shell of your ear. And you forgot how to breathe. The pinch of pain quickly dampened with the roll of his hips—the head of his cock pressing snugly against your walls. This is what you missed, what your body screamed for.

The potent euphoria that drowned you under its vicious waves.

"So tight," he grunted. "Guess she really did miss me."

"Logan-" Your head tipped back into the pillows, a loud moan breaking the silence that curled over your bodies like a blanket.

"There she is." Pulling back slightly, he slammed back into you, nearly shoving you up the bed. "My pretty little songbird."

Nothing held you back from the sounds he drew out of your mouth. Each one louder than the last. Until the room was filled with a symphony of your combined pleasure, the vulgar echo of skin slapping against skin and your slick dripping down onto the bed, became all you could think about.

He thrived off it. The sight of you whittled down to nothing but a needy mess, begging for a small hint of his love. Maybe that made him an old man far too fucking dirty to be with someone as prescious at you. But he'd let the guilt eat him alive later. He'd worry about stealing your youth out from under you in the afterglow of feeling you cum.

A harsh thrust that struck against the sensitive spongy part of your walls had your knees clamping around his hips—your fingers scratching at his back to get him to slow down. You needed a chance to breathe, to regain some sense. Logan merely smiled, his fingers tightening around your throat to drag your head up. His lips slotting against yours in a messy kiss.

"Where do ya think you're goin'?" he growled, repeating the move with a bitten out groan. "Thought you wanted me to fuck you. Now you're running?"

"T-Too much-"

The angle changed sharply and suddenly he was no longer grinding into you but fucking right on that spot. A sharp sob of his name only added fuel to the quickly forming flame, quickening his movements until you felt your entire body begin to grow taut.

Slick smeared on the inside of your thighs, sticky and warm and loud enough to make you dizzy each time you heard it. He panted into your mouth, using the hold on your throat as leverage to fuck you back onto his cock.

Logan didn't love softly. He couldn't. Brutality was all he was capable of giving you and like the sweetest angel you took it with a smile. You let him use you up until his name was all you could comprehend. The heady scent of his sweat filled your senses, the salty tang of his skin spread along your tongue as you bit into his shoulder—your teeth marring his already marked skin.

Eventually it would turn purple, fading quicker than usual, but he'd wear it with pride. His own trophy after tearing you apart beneath him.

"Gonna cum?" he asked, mouthing at your breast, moaning at the taste of your skin. "I can feel it."

You nodded frantically, body going taut with each slap of his hips on yours. "C-Can I?"

"So fuckin' polite," he groaned, sucking on your nipple before letting it loose with a pop. Spit dripping down to your stomach. "'Course you can sugar."

Tugging at his hair, you felt the tremble in your thighs spread to the rest of your body. His other hand slipped between your bodies, thumbing at your throbbing clit with a soft moan, dragging you right to the edge of a cliff. A sharp grind of his hips broke the dam within you, flooding you with a mind numbing bliss that scorched your skin.

You cried his name until your throat went raw, tears spilling hotly down your cheeks that he licked up with a smile. The fluttering of your walls dragged a hoarse shout from his chest, his teeth clamping down onto any part of he could reach. He followed you instantly, shoving his cock deep enough to hurt as he filled you with enough cum to spill out.

The echo of your breaths resounded off the wooden walls, his hand dipping down to smear his cum along the inside of your thighs. Coating you in his essence; claiming you with his scent that burned the inside of his nose.

"I did you know," you mumbled, kissing the newly formed bruise on his skin. "Miss you."

He sighed, his forehead dropping to yours. "I know sugar. I missed you too."

"Will you stay this time?"

A grin pulled at the corners of his lips, hips rolling into yours to pull another weak moan from those pretty lips he longed to kiss. "As long as ya want me."

The hesitancy clamped around your heart, filling your stomach with anxiety. You wanted to beg him to never leave again, to spend each moment in the safety of this house. But Logan had always been a ramblin man. He'd never stay in one place too long. Even if eventually he found his way back here, back in the safety of your home.

"Forever?" you breathed, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Logan's heart twisted at the sight. "Yeah sugar," he replied, dipping down to drag his lips along yours. "I like the sound of that.”

[mapis-putellas]

[ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴇᴀᴛꜱ ]

Summary: You never intended to meet the love of your life on a random Friday at work, and you definitely never thought she’d be world famous footballer Alexia Putellas.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Your date with Alexia ends up lasting the entire day. After getting ice cream -the second activity Alexia had planned- you'd ended up taking a small road trip to the nearest beach just a few miles away. Due to the time of day it was still relatively crowded, but you'd managed to find a small unoccupied area near the water where Alexia had promptly laid out the hoodie she'd brought from the car for you to sit on.

She'd sat herself opposite, cross legged, just like you, with her knees flush against your own. It was kind of perfect honestly, just sitting with her talking about anything and everything. She even teaches you a few more Spanish words, high-fiving you and intertwining her hands with your own whenever you got something right.

Had it been just an excuse to touch you? Maybe? But you certainly hadn't minded.

You'd then spent at least an hour walking hand in hand down the shoreline, comfortable conversation still flowing smoothly between you. It was only when the sun had started to set did you make the joint decision to call it a day, the car ride back feeling a lot quicker than the initial journey there. She'd pulled up outside of your apartment just as the clock strikes nine pm, leaving the car running as she unbuckles her seatbelt and steps out. You watch her round the vehicle before reaching to your open door, not hesitating to take the hand she offers you and allowing her to help you out of the car.

You'd stared at one another for a few moments before you had step forward to loop your arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug, Alexia responding almost immediately by securing her arms around your waist and lifting you slightly off of your feet.

You cup the back of her head, effectively bringing her with you when she sets you back down and pressing your lips softly against her own. A few murmured assurances about a second date had briefly filled the silence, and then you'd both bid one another a rather reluctant goodbye, you waving her off from your place on the sidewalk.

You had entered your apartment feeling both ecstatic and sad. Ecstatic because this was officially the best date you'd ever been on and sad because it was over. That continues as you get ready for bed, but a text from Alexia sweetly bidding you a good night immediately cheers you up.

Throughout the remainder of the week, you and Alexia text pretty frequently. It's mostly in the evenings when she was free and the conversation was mostly pretty friendly with the occasional i hope to see you soon thrown in. It bums you a little that nothing had been brought up about a second date; especially when you'd asked her to let you know when she was free so you didn't plan something when she was busy. But it could simply be the fact that she had no free time and was waiting for a day to be available. That's what you've been telling yourself anyway, so not to drive yourself insane with the what ifs.

About three days after your first date is when she FaceTimes you for the first time. It was a little after eight at night, so you were in the bathroom getting ready for bed when your phone buzzes softly against the counter. You pick it up, blinking a little in surprise when you see the name on your screen but not hesitating to press accept.

"Hey." You smile, propping her up against the back of the sink as you continue wiping off your makeup.

She was in her car, you think, though it didn't seem as though she was driving. It was slightly dark, but you could make out the fact that she was wearing the same football kit she'd been wearing the day you'd met. Man, she really liked football huh?

"Hola, amor." She greets, reclining her seat back slightly so she could get more comfortable. She props her elbow up on the door, resting her head in her hand. "How has your day been?" She wonders.

You shrug slightly as you wet your face before uncapping your face wash, pouring some out onto your hand and rubbing it onto your skin. "It's been alright," you shrug. "work was long but productive. I ate some dinner and read my book and now I'm getting ready for bed. How was your day?" You quickly rinse off your face before drying it off with a clean towel.

Alexia sighs softly. "My day was good, gracias, amor." She offers you a tentative smile, one you don't hesitate to return. You bend down a little, resting your elbows against the counter and resting your face in your hands. Alexia tilts her head to the side, looking inquisitive as you stare at her.

"What is it?" She whispers after a few silent moments, and you sigh softly as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Is it weird to say that I missed you?" You admit a little more bashfully than you would have liked, your cheeks flushing a light shade of red.

Alexia's features soften as she holds her phone a little closer to her face. "No," she shakes her head. "It is not weird. I missed you too. I have been trying to find a free day for our second date but I have been..."

"Busy," you nod, letting out a soft sigh as you pick up your moisturiser. "I know, I understand. I just wanted to tell you."

She nods. "Actually, I call because I have a question...for you."

"Ask away." You assure.

"I have training tomorrow, and I want to ask if...you could, wanted, to go with me?"

"Football training?" You ask, turning off the bathroom light and making your way into your bedroom.

"Sí." Alexia nods.

"You want me to go with you to training?"

"Yes. If you want to. Of course you do not have to, it will be boring, just sitting in the stands but..."

"I'll never turn down an opportunity to see you Alexia. Of course I'll come with you." You were quick to say as you settle against her headboard of your bed, propping your phone up with a pillow in front of you. "Just know I have no idea how any of it works." You warn somewhat seriously.

Alexia laughs. "That is okay. I will explain it to you." She assures.

"You will, huh?" You grin, reaching back to pull your hair back into a ponytail. Your tank top slips up your body at the action, slightly exposing your torso, and you pretend you don't notice the way her eyes not so subtly flicker down to get a look. She clears her throat softly just a few seconds later, a sheepish smile slipping onto her lips when she realises you'd caught her in the act.

"Promesa." She says after a few seconds, and you hum softly as lean back against the headboard of your bed.

"Wait," you abruptly sit back up. "does training count as a second date?"

"Uhhh..." she sends you a guilty smile.

"Alexia! I was supposed to plan the second date!"

*

It was only when Alexia pulls up outside of a large looking stadium the next day do you realise that maybe this whole football thing was a lot more serious than she'd been letting on.

You look around as you exit the car, seeing many others in matching football kits as Alexia grabs a large duffel bag out of the trunk. Some look right at to with a look of confusion on their faces, making you wonder if Alexia really had permission to bring you here after all.

You turn, ready to question her, but Alexia subtly shakes her head as she gestures you towards the entrance of the stadium. Though your confusion deepens, you comply and follow her inside, your eyes widening when you take note of people with cameras and phones filming everyone who passes as Alexia grasps your hand and pulls you out of the way of everyone.

"Alexia, what's going on? You said this was football training-"

"Sí," she cuts you off, squeezing your hand. "It is football training. I...I play for Barça."

"I-okay? I don't know what that means. Why are there people taking pictures? Why are there cameras?" You whisper the last part, not wanting anyone to overhear.

Alexia sighs lightly. "Vale. I...I am Alexia Putellas."

You raise an eyebrow as you lean back against the wall, shoving your hands into your pockets. "I know your name, dummy."

"No," she shakes her head. "I do not know how to explain in English. I do not know the right words. You have your phone, sí?"

You nod, your eyebrows furrowing.

She swallows heavily as she gestures for you to pull it out, and you comply. "Google my name. That will explain and I will answer the questions you have."

"I am so confused." You mutter, unlocking your phone and typing Alexia's name into google. Your eyes widen in disbelief at the results that greet you, lips parting in silent surprise as your body becomes entirely still. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the fog of bewilderment that had clouded your vision.

Alexia Putellas didn't just like football like you had assumed. She was a famous footballer.

You jump reflexively when you feel her hand gently come to rest on your arm, wincing a little when Alexia rips her hand away a though she'd been scolded.

"I..." you have absolutely no idea what to say.

"I know," Alexia murmurs. "I am sorry, I should have-"

You shake your head, holding a hand up to stop her from talking. She complies, but grows more antsy the longer you remain silent. You swallow heavily as you lock your phone, stuffing it back onto your pocket with a little more force than was maybe necessary.

"You're...famous. You're a famous footballer and you didn't think to tell me before bringing me here?" You didn't sound mad, just...confused, and maybe a little hurt too.

Alexia adjusts her kitbag on her shoulder before softly clearing her throat. "I wanted to," she promises. "but, I did not know how to say it. So I thought-"

"That bringing me here would tell me for you." You cut in, and Alexia visibly winces.

"Sí." She murmurs. "I am sorry."

You sigh lightly. "It's okay. I have...more questions, but you apparently have training and I don't want you to be late."

Alexia nods. "Are you still..."

You nod. "I'll still watch." You say, smiling a little at the breath of relief that slips from Alexia's lips as she tentatively holds out her hand. You take it, feeling the way she squeezes tightly as she leads you outside and towards the stands.

She offers you any of the seats, and you decide on one that was close enough to be able to see what was going on but far enough away where you wouldn't be too easily noticed. The last thing you wanted, or needed, right now, was questions. Questions you had no idea how to answer. You sit down with your bag on the seat next to you, expecting Alexia to head off to training but blinking in surprise when instead she crouches down before you and rests her hands on your knees.

"I am sorry, again," she murmurs, still evidently feeling bad. "I did lot mean to lie to you. I was just-"

"I know," you assure. "Like I said I'm not mad at you. Just confused. But you'll explain everything to me later, right?"

"Sí. Yes. Promesa," Alexia nods, "but I still-"

"Ale." You gently cup her cheeks, trailing the pads of your thumbs over the warm skin. Brown eyes flicker up and meet your own, lips quirking up into a hesitant smile. "we've only known each other a week. Been on one date. It's a big thing, telling someone this. I understand, truly."

Alexia shifts softly as she leans into your touch. "But you seemed upset," she whispers. "You jump when I touch you." 

"Because I wasn't expecting it," you admit with a soft smile. "I didn't flinch because I was upset. I flinched because it genuinely made me jump."

"Oh," Alexia mumbles, "vale. That is good then. I-"

"Alexia!" Someone calls her name.

You both turn your heads, spotting Mapi's familiar face staring right back at you. You wave, genuinely happy to see her again and Mapi grins widely as she returns it before she once again gestures for Alexia to come over.

Alexia nods in acknowledgment before turning back to face you. "I have to go now, you have food yes? And drinks?"

"Sí." You nod, taking the hands on your knees and giving them a soft squeeze. "I have entertainment too. I have a book, my iPad. I'll be fine. Go do what you gotta do."

Alexia nods, leaning forward to kiss your cheek before standing up. She goes to walk away before abruptly stopping and unzipping her bag before rummaging through it, turning back to face you just a few seconds late with a hoodie in her grasp.

You shake your head softly. "Ale, it's hot. I don't nee-”

"Just in case, amor," She folds it up before placing it on your lap. "I do not want you to get cold."

You know full well you wouldn't get cold, but the thought of Alexia worrying that you would and offering you her hoodie fills your stomach with butterflies.

"Okay," you accept. "Thank you."

Alexia nods, sending you one last smile before hurrying down to the large field. She was immediately greeted with Mapi's knowing smile, Alexia rolling her eyes playfully as the rest of her teammates approach her. Someone says something promoting every single pair of eyes down there to meet your own, and you stare wide eyed for a second before bravely bringing your hand up for a cautious wave.

Some wave back. Some smile. One in particular; a brunette with her hair tied back into a ponytail slips away from the group, a wide grin on her face as she makes her way towards you. You wince internally when neither Alexia or Mapi seem to notice, hoping to god your terror wasn't noticeable as she makes it to the seat next to you and sits down.

"Hola," the brunette grins. "Soy Aitana. Eres la novia de Alexia?"

You stare at her blankly.

She frowns. "No hablas español?"

You somehow manage to understand this and promptly shake your head.

"Ahh," she nods before pointing to herself. "I am Aitana." She says slowly, accent thick, before pointing to you. "You are?"

"I'm Y/n."

"Ahh. And you are Alexia's girlfriend, sí?"

"Aitana! Vuelve aquí!" A voice you don't recognise calls out, but Aitana ignores it as she looks at you expectantly.

You swallow heavily before shaking her head. "Um, no. I'm not her girlfriend."

"You are not?" She frowns, and you shake your head again.

"We've only been on one date. This is the second." You explain.

Her frown deepens. "El entrenamiento de fútbol fur su gran idea para una segunda cita? Idiota, Alexia." She grumbles to herself.

You didn't understand the first part of her sentence, but you sure did understand the second. She thought Alexia was an idiot.

"Aitana! Ahora!" Calls that voice again, and Aitana waves them off as she sighs heavily and turns in her seat a little to face you.

"I will talk to her." She reaches her hand out to pat your leg in what you assumed was an action of reassurance, and though you didn't quite know what she planned to talk to Alexia about, you find yourself nodding your head in hopes it'd get her to head back to training before she got you both in trouble.

"Aitana!"

"I am going now, but we will talk later, yes?" She questions as she rises to her feet, and you nod somewhat dumbly as she turns makes her way back down to the field. She skips right over to Alexia who was in the middle of talking to someone, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. The second she has it, she begins talking, waving her hands about animatedly as she gestures from you to the field around you placing her hands on her hips.

Alexia watches on in mild concern and confusion before her eyes flicker over to you. Her eyebrow raises in silent question, and you nod assuringly, not at all affected by Aitana despite how enthusiastic she'd been.

Her other brow raises, almost as though she was asking if you were sure, and you nod again, this time throwing her a double thumbs up for good measure.

Alexia nods, turning back to face Aitana. As she begins to talk, you rummage through the small bag you brought and pull out your iPad. You'd download a few new books this morning that you knew would occupy you for the entirety of the time you were here, and as you select one, you lean back a little in your seat in hopes of getting a little more comfortable.

*

Alexia's training ends up lasting a little over four hours, and you surprisingly manage to keep yourself appropriately occupied for little over three of them. You read your book, play a few games and even make a good dent in the snacks you'd brought. It was part way through the fourth hour that you start becoming a little restless.

In an attempt at distracting yourself, you try and follow along the little scrimmage match that Alexia and her teammates were having, but it ultimately proves ineffective when you have absolutely no idea who was winning or what was even going on.

Eventually, you're forced to stand, shrugging on the hoodie that had been on your lap ever since Alexia had put it there before beginning to pace, subconsciously bringing the sleeve to your face to take in her scent. It smelt just as you remember.

You manage a total of five laps before your name was called, your eye's immediately flickering towards the direction it had come from. It was Alexia. She was stood at the edge of the field, gesturing you over with a smile on her face, and you hesitate for only a second before grabbing your things and making your way down.

She immediately throws an arm over your shoulder the second you were close enough, pressing a rather sweaty kiss to your forehead in which you just about manage to refrain from wiping away. You completely miss the smirk that graces her features at the sight of you in her hoodie.

"They want to meet you. Is that okay?" She murmurs quietly, gesturing to her teammates who were talking amongst themselves just a few feet away. You glance between them and Alexia as you lean slightly into her side, a rather hesitant look on your face. Alexia's facial expression was much the same, almost as though she'd tried to talk them out of it but had ultimately failed to to do.

"You can say no, amor. I will not be mad, and they will not either.” she assures softly, and you let out a quiet exhale through your nose before nodding your head. Getting it over and some with would be the easiest option, right?

"Vale, come on then."

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @marysfics

[lixiesfreckless]

Into It | b. c.

➸ synopsis: the california sunset looks pretty damn good when you're on the hood of Chan's car.

➸ starring: bang chan x female reader

➸ word count: 3k

➸ general content: best friend!chan, car sex, drunk sex, chan is lowkey obsessed with you, mutual pining, dirty talk

➸ warnings: lots of swearing, sexual content, alcohol consumption, mentions of california(LMAO east coast on top)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: another oldie but goodie! also I don't even bias chan but I literally went insane writing this so what does that mean-

♫ into it- chase atlantic

Far away.

You feel like your mind is so far away.

The engine roars in your ears as you and Chan zip around the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles, convertible top down to let the wind whip through the vehicle. 

Your hand dangles outside the car door, lazily twirling a half empty bottle of beer in your fingertips as you fully sink into the car seat. Your thoughts are fuzzy, his music is loud, and the breeze is enough to keep you from getting too hot. 

This is as close as you can get to bliss.

Palm trees lining the road, orange and magenta in the sky, hell— if heaven didn’t look like this, did you even want to go?

The car slows down enough for Chan to make a right turn, angling the two of you to a desert close to where they host raves and concerts every summer. By the time the current song stops playing, Chan is pulling the convertible off the road, driving over hardened clay and rocks until he’s about 50 yards away from the asphalt.

“Pass me one of those,” he says, putting the car in park and slumping into the seat. You reach down to the six pack of beer near your feet and pass one to him, bringing your own bottle up to your lips as he takes it.

The guy sticks the cap between his teeth, cracking it open with a sharp twist of his arm, and flicks the cap into the cup holder.

“That’s one way to crack open a cold one,” you chuckle, taking another swig.

“Too bad I’m not with the boys…” he sighs, narrowly dodging a swat from your hand as he laughs.

“Hush, I’m better than the boys.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the troubles of the week dissolve under the tangy taste of the alcohol and the bass from the speakers.

You can’t remember exactly when you started spending your Friday nights like this, driving to random places in the passenger seat of Chan’s car. Usually you’d prefer to spend your nights indoors, but with him, it was never overwhelming. He was your weekly dose of adventure, and you became addicted easily.

But how could you not when he was so…Chan?

He always knew what songs to play, what you felt like talking about, what kind of view would cheer you up— he became someone that knew you better than your best friend, even.

And there was something so disarming about his vintage band tees, beat up converse, blond curls and dimples— especially his dimples. They were a weapon and he used them.

And they reappear right as you notice you’re staring at him. Serves you right for zoning out in his general direction.

“Something on your mind?” He chuckles, and you pop the passenger door open, shaking your head.

“Nope. Just need to stretch.”

You walk around to the front of the car, and the shell dips slightly once you perch on the hood.

This beer is defective, you decide. Alcohol is supposed to blur your thoughts, not sharpen them.

And yet all you can think about is the man moving to lean against the front of the car, standing just a foot away from you.

Your mind pretends not to notice the way Chan’s gaze lingers on your lips, almost glazing over every time you take a swig from the bottle in your hand. Your body however, burns. Reacts like water on hot oil. It feels like every cell is dancing in the remnants of the sunset when he looks at you. 

It might just be the alcohol though.

You lean back and lie on the hood of the car, using your hands as a makeshift pillow behind your head as you watch the sky turn an even deeper shade of pink. Chan takes one glance at you and takes a long sip of beer as he quickly looks away, pushing the sight of your shirt riding up your torso far back into his mind. The…things he could do there-

“Shit, how many of those have we gone through,” you mumble, lazily shifting your eyes up to the sky.

“Uh, four?” Chan glances back at you, mentally cursing at the way your face matches the sky above, dusted with pink. He doesn’t know it’s from you staring at his arm veins. “We have water in the back if you want some-”

“No, no I’m good.” Your voice sounds like honey to him; maybe he should pass the bottle back to you, just so you’ll stay quiet. “Just feeling more than a little buzzed.” 

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, and the huskiness in his voice practically pokes you in the side. “Now would be the best time to do something crazy then.”

“Something crazy?” You laugh out loud, then sit up slightly on the hood, leaning back on your elbows. “There’s nothing but desert for miles. What are we supposed to do-”

Your sentence stops dead in its tracks as your eyes meet with Chan’s, the heat rushing to your gut all at once as the wind blows his blond curls into his eyes. He doesn’t even hesitate this time; his eyes wander lower and lower on your face until they land on your bottom lip, trapped between your teeth. 

“God, why do you always do that…” he whispers, shifting his gaze back to the road.

…What? 

The wind whistles in your ears as you feel them growing hotter, unsure what to make of his sudden statement.

“Do…do what?” He looks back at you with tortured eyes, as if you’re the only water in the California desert.

“Bite your lip like that; it makes me think-” he stops and drains the rest of the bottle in his hand, then leaves it on the hood and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m gonna turn the music up.”

Your eyes follow him as he trails along the side of the car, and you feel a certain window of opportunity beginning to close. Summoning most of your courage, you jump off the hood and walk up behind Chan, waiting for him to finish messing with the stereo before tapping him on the back.

“Yeah?” He turns around and barely has any time to think before you’re pressing on his shoulders, pulling him down slightly as you crash your lips onto his. He immediately catches your waist, letting out a surprised muffle that dissolves into a sigh as he pulls you against him.

You break apart after a moment, lips still tingly and buzzing with excitement, but you wonder if you’ve made the right decision as you look up at Chan, who still has his eyes closed.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers, finally looking down at you with a flushed face.

“Not drunk enough.” You twist the shoulder seams of his shirt between your fingers in consideration. “I’m sober enough to know that look. And if you don’t do something about it, then I-”

“You want me to do something about it?” He pulls your hips tight against his, and now that you’re leaning on him, you can feel the bass from the car reverberating through both of you. That combined with the buzz of the alcohol and his hands on your bare midriff nearly sends you over the edge, but you keep your composure.

And by that you mean you pounce on him— you love his voice, but you’re tired of talking about something you could be doing.

If you both were a little less tipsy, the kisses would probably be less frantic. But neither of you seem to care, hands grabbing at each other desperately as you search for better ways to pull each other closer.

“You have no idea,” he pants between kisses, “you have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You shudder into his lips, raking through his blond locks and tugging at the ends as Chan’s grip tightens on your hips. He takes a sharp inhale before picking you up, waiting for you to latch your legs around his torso before he slides his arms under your legs. As he walks around the car, you both never separate; you’re actually surprised when you feel the cool metal of the hood come into contact with the backs of your thighs.

He nestles himself between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs and tracing the distressed hem of your denim skirt as the bass of the song picks up. You’re lucky you’re on the hood and not the trunk; the subwoofers vibrating against you would have been too much for sure. 

He pulls away from your lips, dipping his head to catch his breath as he pants into the crook of your neck. To him, this is insane. He has you on the hood of his car. He has you on the hood of his car.

How is a man supposed to think straight in this situation? 

Meanwhile, his hot breath on your neck is driving you to the brink of insanity. Just a raise of your shoulder and he’d be kissing it. Shoot, he could make you crazy with his fingers just an inch higher too.

“Chan,” you whisper, not realizing how close your breathy voice was to his ear, and the last of his resolve practically evaporates off of him.

“Y/n…” his nose follows the curve of your neck as he makes his way up to your face, “tell me if I need to stop, I just…”

He hooks his hands around your knees and pulls, effectively pinning your hips together in a casual display of strength, and you gasp before he seizes your bottom lip between his, sucking and biting until a soft moan slips from your lips.

“Fuck, make that sound again,” he groans, hands sliding back up your thighs to the hem of your shirt. You relent, no longer keeping your sighs and sounds of pleasure to yourself as his hands slide under your crop top, around to your back.

He makes quick work of your bra, releasing the tension around your ribcage before sliding his thumbs along the underside of your breasts. Just thinking about all of the things he could do to you has both of you buzzing with anticipation, panting against each other’s mouths.

His thumb just barely grazes your nipple and you swear you see the world begin to tilt.

You don’t know what it is; normally a gesture that small wouldn’t elicit such a reaction out of you, but the alcohol in your veins and the bass under your thighs seem to bring every motion of his straight to your core. And usually you’d be embarrassed at how loud you are, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he continues just like that, both thumbs barely putting any pressure on the peaks under your shirt.

Your head lolls back slightly, and Chan wastes no time in licking a thin stripe up the column of your neck, stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“Ideally, I’d want to take my time with you, but right now…” his voice is thick with lust as he flicks both of your nipples, and you jolt forward. “I don’t think you’d want me to.”

“Chan, please,” you gasp out, wanting to press your thighs together, “get on with it already.”

He obliges you, hands sliding down to your skirt and then back up under it, looking for the edge of your panties. Once he has them, he pulls them down and over your Nike blazers, tossing them into the convertible onto the passenger seat.

He then reaches behind you, pushing two empty bottles off the car as he presses you flat against the hood. The sound of the bottles breaking against the rocky terrain is barely registered by you though, you’re more focused on Chan’s free hand snaking back up your skirt.

Curses slip out of his mouth once his thumb brushes across your clit; he’s more than shocked to feel just how soaked you are, but you shake your head vigorously, catching his attention.

“Skip it,” you say breathlessly, looking directly into his eyes. He understands instantly, coffee colored eyes practically turning coal black seeing your desperation.

The sky seems to swirl different shades of purple and pink as the wind feathers over your body, and just past the contrails in the sky, you can see the stars beginning to poke their faces into the rosy backdrop.

There is a very real possibility that you are dreaming all of this.

But the sound of his zipper being pulled down snaps your senses into focus, and the possibility of Chan fucking you under a sky like this seems more urgent.

The next minute flies by, and before you know it Chan is lining himself up at your entrance, checking that the condom is on properly before lifting your skirt to your hips.

His eyes flicker to yours momentarily, and you nod before relaxing fully, letting your head rest against the hood as he holds onto your hips tightly.

And then you instantly tense up once he starts pushing into you.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to slide in without really touching you, but the hiss he draws between his teeth tells you he’s not really focusing on that.

You’re focusing on how you didn’t catch a glimpse of him before he put it in, and now your entire lower abdomen is tingling in excitement over just how much of him there is. Silly how you were trying to sober up for this moment, only for you to feel high all over again with him fully inside you.

“I- shit, okay wow,” he hisses, dragging himself out and back in slowly. “You’re so warm, god-”

You can’t even respond, you’re so occupied by the feeling of his ridges along your walls that your fingers are already looking for something to grab onto.

Somehow in the haze of it all, you still want to urge him deeper, so you wrap your legs around his waist and watch as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering closed mid-thrust.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, picking up the pace and holding your hips tighter as you whine, feeling him finally start to brush one of your sensitive spots.

Chan cannot process the scene playing out in front of him. You’re draped over the hood of his car, taking what he’s giving you so easily, face flushed and hair falling over your face from the wind. Your shirt is halfway up your torso, but your skirt is up six inches too high, high enough to see where he's sheathing himself inside of you. He couldn’t make this up if he tried.

The pressure building inside of you jumps to the next level once his hand slides up your shirt again, gently rubbing circles over your nipple as opposed to the faster thrusts down below. Your back arches into his hand as you gasp, squeezing your thighs around him tighter as you do so.

“Chan,” you whine, scratching your nails against the car, and a few more curses tumble out of his mouth as he stares down at you. 

“You’re so good y/n,” he pants, snapping his hips against you now, “better than I- ah, I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this before?” You’re cut off by another moan; it’s a miracle how you can even speak.

Chan doesn’t reply; instead, he hooks his hands under your knees and drops them on his shoulders, then scoops his hands back under your hips and pulls them to his with a quick snap.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he says with a wicked grin, hitting you at just the right angle to pull a sharp gasp out from your lips.

“Oh my god, there-” you moan breathlessly, pressing your hands flat onto the hood of the car as he pounds into you relentlessly.

The sky is spinning. Your heart is pounding. You wish you could focus on something, anything other than the spongy part of you that Chan is hitting to the beat of the song under you, just so you could last a little bit longer. 

But the sight of him with your legs around his neck, eyes closed with strands of gold wisping across his face, the look of pure ecstasy painted across his cheeks, ensures that you have close to three seconds before the knot in your stomach unravels.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you say as you feel yourself coming undone, back arching into your release which only makes Chan pound deeper, heightening the intensity tenfold.

He cries out once you clamp down around him, spitting out random strings of curses until he’s emptying his restraint into the condom, slowing down his thrusts as he finally opens his eyes again, locking gazes with you.

He looks nothing short of ethereal with the now purple backdrop of the sky, framing his blond locks with lilac clouds as he slowly pulls out of you, doing his best not to overstimulate you. You almost tell him not to; being that full was nice, something you’d probably never admit unless you were actually drunk.

“Wow,” you breathe out, watching him lower your legs down to the hood. “That was…”

“Crazy, I know,” he laughs, still trying to calm his breathing as he looks at you. “But you were amazing, holy shit-”

“…better than the boys?” You tease, smirking up at him. 

He gives you a knowing look, picking up on the funny way you worded the question. But instead of getting flustered, he leans over the hood, caging you against it with his arms.

“Hmm…I don’t know. I think I’d have to try this a couple of times before I can give you a definite answer.”

[tan1shere]

Who Is She

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: the extra of tanns kinktober I hope you enjoy it 😁

Summary: you were new in town, being warned about the mysterious girl and how she was insane. Little did you know you'd absolutely love her and the mysteriousness.

Warnings: smut, stalker billie, vampire billie ! Fingering <3

Masterlist - Halloween ML

"A misty memory..."

"A haunting face..."

That's the constant warnings you got of her. Ever since you moved here 2 months ago. You didn't even know her name. No one dared to utter it. You honestly didn't care if it came out of your mouth. You just really wanted to know who this mystery girl was. The people never specified why she was so aloof, just that whenever anyone would be around her they'd go missing. You personally didn't believe that one bit, as if someone could just do that so randomly. Someone known.

The friends you had made so far were the ones warning you, the town was small so many people knew of her. And that is exactly why you went to the friendly old man that worked at the sweet shop down the road. You'd go in there often and he'd have all these fun stories to tell you. Especially back in his day, his wisdom was intriguing, so he was most definitely the person to go to. The bell jingles as you open the door to the shop. "Hey jo!" You smile at him. "Hey toffee!" He smiles cheerfully. He had started calling you that soon after he realized your love for it.

The nicknames just stuck around, but so have you. "How are you today?" You ask kindly, grabbing some toffee fudges. You then go to your forever spot on the end of the counter. Sadly not many people would visit him, it saddened you because he was always so lovely to everyone. "I'm amazing, how are you hun?" The smile never left his face which always made you feel 10x better no matter the day you had. "Not too bad! Hey, could I ask you something?" You say, unwrapping the sweet. Passing him the wrapper to throw away for you alongside money that was way more than it actually costed.

He always would say to keep it but you never listened. "Fire away." He leans back in the chair he'd always sit in, watching as you plopped the fudge into your mouth. "Mystery girl. Who is she?" He looks at you carefully. "No one, knows who she really is. But I do happen to know more in depth details that nobody knows." AhHA! You knew he'd know something, after all he's lived in this town his whole life. He knew everything and everyone, so there was no surprise. "Billie, I knew her parents way back before they left." He cuts himself off, you had a feeling he knew alot more than he was about to tell you, but you just let that go. "Shes lived in this town for years, and years."

He stops again, was he giving slight clues? Jo was never a fast talker he'd constantly take small pauses. But it was the way his voice changed at the end of each sentence, as if he was leading you on a scavenger hunt. Maybe he was. "Shes never seen by anyone, and if she is its always in that forest near those older houses." You nod your head, listening. "Interested are we?" You purse your lips. "Maybeee." You then smile slightly. "Not scared?" You shake your head, leaning back against the pillar behind you. "Far from it honestly." He now nods, taking in everything you said.

"I knew her when she was really young, like I said I knew her parents years ago, quite well actually. But she would always keep to herself." Your eyes wander down on the counter in thought. "So you don't know why she's so mysterious and 'scary'?" He's still, shrugging just a bit. "If you really want to know you could find out." You laugh slightly. "She must not be that dangerous if you're saying that." He shrugs yet again. "You said it yourself, you're not scared or anything. And who knows what she could be."

"You do." You then say with a tiny grin, he mirrors the action. Putting a finger on the side of his nose. "Go find out, toffee."

And so you do, after a long day on a shift at work, a few days later- Or a few weeks per say. You hadn't gotten the chance to do it. You go down to the forest Jo had mentioned. It was in the evening so things weren't especially light.

I call her name.

"Billie!?"

Across an endless plain.

"I hear you've been looking for me?" -

She'll answer me... wherever she may be.

- She says, lurking in the darkness. Still unable to see a face until she comes into view, she was beautiful. Just a regular young woman. You ignore the fact she knew about your inquires on her, pondering if you should ask who on earth she is but you just have to. You have to know. "What are you?" Was the main thing rattling around in your mind. Her head tilts slightly at the question. "You're very brave, I must say." The thing is, you were never scared. Not even now, she could turn into an ugly ratty demon and you'd still be interested. "Y/n? Right?" You blink at her a few times.

"How do you know my name?" She shrugs. "I've been watching. Observing your every move ever since I found out you were looking for me. And to say the least you intrigued me deeply." You intrigued her? You were quite baffled. "Nobody's told you what I am no?" Your head shakes. "Why don't I show you angel." Your curiosity takes over as She comes closer to you. The situation was endearing, intense within a small gap of time. Her hand goes to your face and you just let it. You look at her lips and they're on you in an instant. Attaching to your own, your jaw, slowly. Your neck.

You hear her breathe in near your pulse point, and it's like something clicks in your brain. You knew exactly what she was, and you wanted to truly find out. "Don't wanna hurt you sweet girl. In any way." She then pulls back to look at you. "I've grown to like you, even if i don't know you fully. Your cute smile when you're laughing with your friends or that happiness when you enter Jo's shop. I just know you're special." She finishes, moving her finger to a strand of your hair, putting it behind your ear. "I want this." You say positively. She thinks for a moment. "I haven't told you what I am-" "I know." You say putting your hands on her face.

She was slightly hesitant, everyone was scared of her, all she wanted was a feed. To keep her well. And you were gladly going to give her that. Her lips were on your own again, the kiss being hungrier than the last. This time you were getting into it more. Gasping just slightly when her hands meet your waist, gripping tightly. Your hands slide down, resting on her neck as she pushes you against one of the many huge trees that were surrounding you currently. The kiss only deepens, making you moan just slightly into her mouth.

"I can smell you." She breathes against your lips. "Taste me then." You say, giving her every bit of permission there was to give. Extending your neck out slightly for her to do just that, taste you. Her lips make contact with it, everything was delicate until you felt a slight piercing in your skin, her sharp fangs seep deep. But yet keeping a careful eye on how much she takes. She meant what she said earlier. You're the only human being who hasn't seen her for something hideous. She admires you. Your hands move to her hair as one of hers move into your jeans. You gasp again as you weren't expecting her to.

Your mind goes numb, blank. Feeling her fingers find their way to your aching clit. It was driving you insane with both tactics at once. The sharp twinge in your neck, and the antagonizing touches on your pussy. Her fingers inch lower towards your hole, slipping in eventually. Your brain turns to samp, closing your eyes shut as she inserts two. "F-fuck." You breathe, completely breathless by every motion. "That feels, good.." You mumble out. The taste in her mouth was intoxicating, you tasted delicious.

She devours the sweet red, coming out of the vein she punctured. Her tongue swipes along the two teeth marks keeping it there for a second, before she comes back to face you. Sticking her free fingers against it. She feels the pulse, slightly weak but still pumping. Her eyes had a slight red tone to them, insanely different from when you first saw her before, her veins were sticking out like crazy under her eyes. Red smeared along her lips. Your mind was hazy. Eyelids drousy as her other fingers make work on your cunt, speeding up now she can see your face. Others would look at you and think you're dying. But that really isn't the case, you were so blissed out. You felt like you were on cloud 9. She smirks. Watching your features.

Hers begin to ease, veins subsiding, eyes not as red, fading into that ocean blue again. Her other hand is removed from your neck to wipe the excess of your blood from her mouth.

She noticed just how blissed out you were, and God she was enjoying the sight. "Still with me baby?" You nod, biting your lip. "S-still with you-" You exhale a tight moan, feeling your back arch as she hit the right spot. "Good girl." The spot that's going to make you gush. Just for her, on her. She watches everything so carefully not wanting to miss anything. "Cum for me." She then says, and with a few more strokes of her fingers you do. Cumming right on her fingers. She takes them out and instantly puts them in her mouth. "Everything about you is so tasty my god." She says, a low moan leaving her in the process. You try to regain your breath, looking at her and realizing soon after. "Wait you mentioned Jo before-" Her eyes are on yours.

"Yeah, course. He's my uncle."

[haunted-planes]

Some train facts that may help for your living train oc:

(From a dude who is a train mechanic and casually drives subways and city trains for years.)

Trains eat a lot of sand, some prefer mixtures with oil and other minerals but no matter what train you choose for your oc, sand is a crucial substitute for a healthy and happy train.

Rails are lubed by trains. The more trains drive on the same track the smoother the ride. (Fun idea if you wanna follow a train’s traces.)

Trains, including electric trains require a variety of oil, lubes, fluids and other liquids to operate. (Fun ideas for food or cosmetics products for trains. Fr, some materials look so freaking delicious)

Sudden and fast movements are painful for trains and can bend trails. Trains are powerful but they need more time to build up speed.

Subway trains have a burning hatred for pigeons. The amount of dead pigeons in tunnels is INSANE, despite all efforts to stop them from entering tunnels, pigeons are very passionate about flying into their dead trap.

The newest generation of trains panic about little intervention. Very anxious and scream at lot (at the driver)

All trains have graffiti on them. If it’s not outside then it’s on the inside.

Street trains or bims are like chihuahuas in my eyes. They may be small but they are thought and ready to fight anyone.

Modern Trains have several cameras inside and outside, they can see all around their body or what their passengers are up to.

Some trains are whiny bitches and constantly need service while others never complain about anything for years. (There is a fucked up reason for that but that’s a deep rabbit hole I won’t go into the details)

You don’t want to meet train drivers, they’re insane.

You absolutely don’t want to meet subway drivers, they’re insane beyond measure.

Trains honk at everything that’s near their trails.

Trains are surprisingly quiet while moving on trails. They can take you by surprise. (They did many times) Please stay away from trails.

Stopping a train is difficult, it’s nothing like a car or truck, When they arrive into a station, trains hit their brakes way before they can see the station. That’s why trains can’t stop in time when there is an obstacle on the rails.

All trains have ONE head. Most modern trains rear and front end look exactly the same, both ends have cockpits with very similar controls but their main controls are located on the head. They look like that to confuse predators.

This is optional but it makes sense to me that trains are very sensitive about their rails, they treat them like it’s part of their body, especially the ones in their region and base. You can’t compare them like cars on the road, it’s a completely different dynamic for trains.

That’s all for now, I started writing this in July and collected ideas over the months from my personal experience with driving and fixing trains. I will probably do a part 2 since I still have a lot to learn. You should be able to look up everything on the internet.

Feel free to add your own ideas below.

[wileys-russo]

cold snap II l.williamson x reader

I have no idea where this came from or what it really is besides a whole loft of softness cold snap II l.williamson x reader

the early winter cold snap came as no surprise to anyone who'd spent a few years living in england, and if you'd lived there your entire life it was just another unfortunate but expected consequence of the dreary uk weather.

that wasn't to say that though you always knew it coming that it wasn't unpleasant, from the plummeting temperatures, icy roads, snow covered yards, frosted windows and the icy chill of the wind as it pricked at any and every sliver of skin it could find like tiny little pin pricks.

but though it had its downsides there were some perks to the temperature drop, to you the key thing being the fashion. you'd always loved the feeling of being bundled up in a multitude of clothing. hoodies and jackets and coats and scarves and beanies, you had it all and would near drown yourself in layers like a burrito.

not that you really needed them when you had the best defence against the cold you could ever hope for, leah.

leah who loathed the cold, hated the temperature drop and detested winter with all her might. any chance she got she'd whisk you both off for a weekend away somewhere warm, which was seldom given her career choice and insane schedule.

but the best defence against the cold snap was her body pressed up against yours, arms tightly squeezing you as you'd melt into her embrace, warmth flooding your body as her rosy pink lips gently peppered tender loving kisses against any sliver of skin they could as if trying to protect it from the incoming cold.

it was routine to find yourselves wrapped up together in a mountain of blankets on the sofa wearing one anothers hoodies and limbs entangled. your body cradled between leahs legs as her hands would creep up your top to find your stomach, tracing gentle patterns on the skin with her fingertips.

the gentle lull of her heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of her chest would reward you with a sense of safety and security you knew you'd never find with anyone else, not that you ever felt the need to test the theory.

leah was perfect, and she was yours as much as you were hers.

you'd always been a morning person by nature especially having valued your studies as a teenager you were always early to school, hidden away in the library with your nose buried in a book or scribbling down notes.

leah who was your best friend at the time ribbed you relentlessly for it. but the blonde was hardly ever on time for class herself and you'd often teased she was even late to her own birth which her mum roared laughing at.

but over the years you'd tried to break her out of her sleeping habits leah learned that those little pockets of time alone with you in the library before school were some of her most treasured memories.

she'd watch you over the top of the book she was pretending to read, eyes flickering down to the page when you'd look up and almost catch her with a smile.

leah loved how you looked those mornings, your eyebrows furrowed and glasses nearly slipping off the end of your nose as you'd quietly mumble along to what you were reading, finger tracing along the words as you went.

to leah you'd always been an anchor point. reliable and dependable and endlessly endearing, and yet always seeming just out of reach as you'd flit from relationship to relationship never really settling down with anyone long enough to allow them to get to know you.

but that was where leah knew she'd always won because there wasn't a single part of you that you'd not opened up and shared with her, and much to the infuriation of your partners over the years leah was always your go to person for everything and anything, and the first person you'd go to with any sort of news good or bad.

it didn't take leah long to realise that she was in love with you, but fearing that if she stuck her foot into the rotating door of partners you'd spun over the years that her feelings might not be shared and she'd be rejected or worse lose you entirely, so it took her a long time to be honest with you.

her mum had known of leahs true feelings for years and was forever encouraging leah to open herself up and be upfront with you, and there were too many times to count where leah was sure she was about to do it but then she'd chicken out right at the last minute.

but as leahs football career began to grow and afternoon trainings and weekend games turned into her missing days and sometimes weeks of school for camps, tournaments and academy commitments it had finally clicked.

you were just as much in love with leah as she was with you, though neither of you were yet to actually realise this.

but what you did both learn was that distance makes the heart grow fonder and the more time you had to spend apart the more you silently yearned for one another.

it was your final year of high school and leah had just returned from a tournament in morocco with the england under 19's squad. with the yearly cold snap having just kicked in and the blonde having coming from scorching temperatures you'd died laughing as she turned up to school in about ten layers.

"yes miss i've been told and i've already been given my warnings! but its fucking freezing and these don't do anything." leah snapped at your english teacher who warned her for the grey hoodie she had on beneath your uniform, yanking at the paper thin blazer covering her.

you'd grabbed her knee beneath the table and squeezed gently, giving her a warning look as leah mumbled an apology and your teacher hummed but let her outburst slide much to your relief.

"hey you need to calm down you can't afford an afternoon in you've got training." you warned quietly, her head falling to your shoulder as you shared your textbook, leah having overslept and turned up late she'd forgotten almost everything bar her head.

but with her mood only worsening as time went on you'd opted not to tease her for it, rather doing everything you could to try and make her first day back easier. "i wish i was in bed." leah mumbled with a frown, tapping her foot against yours to signal to turn the page which you did.

"you and me both lee, you and me both. lunch is next anyway, then two more classes and you get to run around and get all dirty and sweaty like you love!" you pinched her cheek and again turned the page as her foot knocked against yours.

"two classes you aren't in." leah huffed, pulling her head off your shoulder and slumping backwards into her chair, arms crossed over her chest with a frown.

the bell to end class cut you off before another word could be said, leah shoving your books back into your bag for you as the two of you joined the rest of your friends, making your way to where the six of you always ate together.

"leah!" you laughed as the girl attached herself to you from behind, hugging your back firmly to her front. "m'hungry and i'm cold." the girl mumbled, having already eaten her food you knew she was eyeing off yours.

"and thats my problem how exactly?" you mocked, shoving the last mouthful of your sandwich into your mouth and leaning up to kiss her cheek. "mate the betrayal!" leah gasped, fingers digging into your ribs as you squealed and tried to push away from her but the girls iron grip was unbreakable.

both of you missed the knowing look shot among your friends, all of whom had front row seats to your endless pining over one another over the years and had spoken to the pair of you individually about no longer dancing around it.

"wanna go to the library?" leah asked, chin resting on your shoulder as you reveled in the warmth from her body hugging yours. "is leah catherine williamson willingly asking to go somewhere with books!" you gasped sarcastically as she flicked your ear.

"yeah its warm in there they have heaters!" "alright you've sold me lets go."

~

"stop looking at me and read those notes, you need to catch up!" you kicked her from where the two of you sat cross legged on the floor, hidden away behind the aisles. "but its so boring man!" leah groaned, snapping the book closed and dropping it in her lap.

"then go find a book thats interesting, i have to finish this." you chuckled, gaze dropping back to the homework in your lap as leah rolled her eyes. "thats not even mandatory and we got it an hour ago, you don't need to do it right now!" leahs foot nudged the book.

"its not mandatory for me but you're behind and its mandatory for you. so if i finish it now then you can take it with you and copy after training so you won't need to stress." you answered without looking away, swatting her foot away as leahs face softened.

it was at that moment as you sat together in the library, hair tucked away in a beanie and glasses once again hanging off your nose that leahs body surged with adoration for you and for the first time along with that came a confidence she'd lacked until now.

"hey. can we talk about something?" her foot bumped you again and hearing the obvious switch in her tone of voice you nodded, putting aside your notebook and raising your eyebrows to show you were listening.

"so i have this friend yeah? and she's sort of got this massive dumb crush on someone shes really close to, like her best mate." leah started, avoiding your eyes as she looked up to the roof and you frowned a little.

"okay." you nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue. "but she's afraid that if she tells her best mate that they won't feel the same way and it'll make it weird between them." leah continued, still not looking at you as you moved so you were sitting beside her.

"okay." you repeated, unsure if you were misreading this as your hand sat dormant by leahs. "so what would you do?" leah asked, a lot quieter now. "if i was your friend?" you clarified as she nodded, neither of you making eye contact.

"i would tell your friend that lifes too short, that she should tell her best mate. because if they are close then even if the feelings aren't the same it won't ruin anything, and if the feelings are the same then by telling them she won't miss out on an opportunity to explore that." you answered honestly, heart hammering now as you hoped you weren't misunderstanding.

a silence fell between the two of you the only noise the gentle chatter of your peers scattered around the library but in your own little bubble all you could focus on was leah.

suddenly your pinky moved just a few centimetres, gently nudging leahs before stilling. holding her breath leahs own pinky inched sideways a little grazing yours, and slowly you felt it interlock, eventually her whole hand grabbing onto yours and interlacing your fingers.

"so i'm sort of in love with you and i have been for years, and i don't know if this makes things really weird and if it does then i'm so sorry but you're like the best human ever and-" leahs head snapped toward yours as she started to ramble making your lips curl into a smile.

leahs words died in her throat as you cleared the gap between you and cut her off pressing your soft lips to hers, pulling away as the blonde stared at you dumbstruck.

"does that fix your friends worries?"

~

several months later and you and leah were even more smitten with one another than before. with school nearly finished you knew leah was angling for a contract with the arsenal senior team and when leah wanted something she put her entire being it making it happen.

"hi love! she's still upstairs, even though she knows we need to leave in five minutes!" leahs mum amanda greeted you with a hug before yelling upstairs making you laugh. "im nearly ready woman keep your pants on!" came leahs yell back making her mum roll her eyes.

"charmer she is." amanda sighed as you shot her a grin and she hurried off to make sure jacob was ready to go, the four of you headed to watch him play with his own team.

jogging upstairs you entered your girlfriends bedroom but frowned unable to see your actual girlfriend inside of it. "rah!" you jumped about a foot in the air as hands grabbed your waist and spun you around.

"dickhead! don't do that." you scowled as she put you down, doubled over laughing as you kicked her and she whined, flopping down onto her bed. "leah you're not even dressed, hurry up!" you groaned impatiently.

"okay sorry mum!" the blonde mocked, disappearing into her closet as you clicked your heels together impatiently. "stop that! its stressing me out." leahs head popped out to point to your feet as you smiled and continued to do it making her eyes roll.

"leah we need to leave, shift it!" amanda yelled from downstairs as you stood up, the blonde finally stepping out of the bathroom fully dressed. "ready now?" you quirked an eyebrow. "mm not yet, one more thing." leah held up a finger as you sighed, hearing amanda huff from downstairs.

to your surprise your girlfriend grabbed your hands and pulled your body into hers, one hand cradling the back of your neck as the other nudged your chin upwards and her lips captured your own.

"we need to go!" you laughed quietly into the kiss, trying to pull away as leahs grip on the back of your neck tightened. "they can wait thirty more seconds." leah grinned, teeth tugging on your bottom lip teasingly.

but right as it started, the kiss came to an abrupt end as leah pulled some sort of material over your eyes. "come on! god you're always making us so late babe." leah groaned holding her hand out as you adjusted the beanie she'd put on you and rolled your eyes.

"you know being cute only gets you so far williamson."

once at the game you and leah tried to be discreet as you sat down together, not having told either of your families just yet. but with amanda on your right and leah on your left with her aunt and cousins sat behind, it didn't take long.

the two of you were pressed as much into one another as you could be, leahs arm draped over the back of your seat as you leaned into her side and she'd whisper things into your ear every few minutes making you grin or giggle.

your feet would tap and poke against one anothers playing footsie like a couple of children, one of your hands resting on leahs knee, fingers playing absentmindedly with the strands of denim which protruded from the rips in her jeans.

you both missed the amused looks from leahs mum beside you who'd just been waiting for one of you to crack and tell her after she'd unknowingly caught the two of you making out in the living room one afternoon, choosing not to make herself known and rather leaving you both to it.

but as the game continued leahs advances seemed to get bolder, her lips kissing your cheek and forehead with a loud smack as you'd huff and shove her away making her grin and do it over and over again, for once barely paying the match any attention.

"stop! your fingers are freezing." you laughed quietly, wrenching her hand away from where it travelled up your hoodie. "and your stomach is very warm, stop being selfish!" leahs hand crept back up, cold fingers pressing teasingly into your ribs making you squeal and smack her.

"girls." you both looked up as amanda called for you, subtly pushing leahs hand out of your lap. "you know this means no more sleepovers and closed doors under my roof, yes?" amanda smiled as you choked on air and leah hit your back, giving her mum an incredulous look of shock.

"mum!" was all the blonde managed to scoff out in surprise as both of your faces burned bright red.

"what? i gave you lots of opportunities to tell me! you missed your chance love."

~

nowadays, the cold snap still came and your girlfriend still loathed it, but she made sure to take full advantage of all the perks she could squeeze from it.

which is why her arms tightened around your torso as you tried to get up, causing you to smile. "baby?" you spoke softly, running a hand through her blonde her, her face calm and still, eyes squeezed shut. "leaaah!" you sang out slowly, finger tracing gently across her face.

all you received was a huff and a grunt as she rolled over, burying her face in your neck and tangling her legs with yours. "come on i said one more hour and its been two now, get up!" you laughed, tucking a hand up her hoodie and scratching at her back.

"if you wanted me to get up you'd not have started that love." leah sighed happily, shifting herself even closer into you. "don't you dare! give it back." her head popped up and she cracked one eye open with a glare as you retracted your hand.

"doesn't belong to you." you teased with a smile, moving your hands beneath you as leah scoffed. "does too!" leah argued, both eyes open as suddenly she was on top of you. "so does this, and this, and this, and this and-" she peppered kisses all over your face and neck as your laughter filled the room.

"baby its cold and its raining and we both have the day off, just want cuddles." leah flopped back down on top of you, lips curled into a pout as you rolled your eyes playfully.

"fine! one more hour."

that hour again became two and with leah well and truly dead to the world this time you managed to wiggle out of bed, leaving her tucked away in the covers as your body screamed for coffee.

you sighed in relief as the first sip hit your lips, taking a seat at the counter and staring out the window, watching as each raindrop smacked the glass and trailed down carving its own little path.

"what part of i want cuddles did you not understand!" you glanced over your shoulder to see leah with the duvet wrapped around her, hood covering her bed hair and an annoyed scowl on her face.

"what part of one more hour did you not understand?" you smiled teasingly, sipping at your coffee as she rolled her eyes. "is the heat on? im actually freezing." leah mumbled, her body quickly moving to wrap around yours.

"go put another layer on then baby, the heat is on." you chuckled, craning your head back to press a few lazy kisses to her jaw, head resting against her chest. "can't believe you chose coffee over me." leah grumbled.

"well one fuels me and the other drains me so..." you trailed off with a shrug, squealing as suddenly you weren't in your chair anymore, feet off the ground as leah carried you into the living room. "leah!" you laughed as she dropped you onto the sofa and crawled on top of you.

"look! its like our private little kiss cave." the blonde beamed, tugging the duvet over her head to engulf the both of you like a fort as she hungrily kissed you, stealing the air from your lungs as her hands slipped up your hoodie.

"baby your hands are freezing!" "oh really? see my lips are the coldest right now, you would be a terrible girlfriend not to help me warm them up."

[fckeddiemunson]

Wrestle | Elwood Dalton

Summary: Dalton teaches you how to wrestle on the beach

Note: This isn't exactly how I pictured it in my head and I couldn't get it right - it also took me ages to write because I wasnt happy with it and I still dont think its my best work but please enjoy😊

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, creampie, public sex, unprotected sex, MAYBE ooc Dalton a little

From the day Elwood Dalton showed up in Glass Key, you were intrigued. You had never heard that name before but from the minute he stepped foot in the Road House, rumours begun simmering. Being a bartender meant you were near Dalton at most times when it was a quieter night. You watched him mostly from afar at first. Serving him coffee with only a shy smile shared between the two of you. Billy had told you that he used to be a fighter, one of the best. A local patron had told you he was disgraced from the sport for killing a guy. Another time you heard he was unhinged, really got some few screws loose, especially if you got on his bad side. Sure, he stopped all the bar fights from breaking out, but you couldn’t believe that he was insane.

He had started teaching Billy and the other guys how to fight and wrestle, so when he was gone, the Road House would be alright against fights that needed to be broken up. You had been eagerly watching them from a distance each morning before open, pretending to read but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

You had asked Billy if he would teach you how to wrestle once Dalton was gone, you were too nervous to ask him yourself. You barely got the chance to talk to him, most nights were busy in the bar, and he was rather occupied with stopping fights. Your stolen glances were no stranger to him, he had often caught you staring, and it made you even more nervous to ask him to teach you to wrestle.

You had your back turned, leaning up against a pole as you dried cutlery. It was a quiet night and you were filling your shift with menial tasks. Dalton had crept up behind you, his breath fanning your ear, “Slow night, huh?”. You jumped, back colliding with his front and dropping the fork you were drying.

“You gave me a fright.” You mumbled, bending down to grab the fork and turning to look at him. He had a silly little smirk on his face, stepping back a little seeing you tense with him so close.

“Sorry honey, just trying to amuse myself. Theres not much else going on right now.”

“There must be more interesting things than scaring me.” You huffed but it turned into a grin when you met his eyes.

“Not really, you’re kind of the only interesting one here.” You blushed; despite knowing he didn’t mean it.

“Nah, you broke someone’s arm your first day. It’s hard to top that.” He shrugged and laughed; his big toothy grin was intoxicating to look at.

“So, you want to learn how to wrestle?” Dalton asked you, now leaning against the same pole as you, his crossed arms brushing against yours.

“Oh. Yeah, I do for self-defense if I needed it. I was just going to get Billy to teach me.” You rubbed your arms sheepishly.

“Yeah, he told me. He thinks it’d be better if I taught you.” You were going to kill Billy. There was no way you’d be able to cope having Dalton teach you how to wrestle.

“Umm, I mean if you’re sure you have the time.” Drawing out the ‘umm’ you felt his eyes piercing into you.

“Of course. Meet me outside my boat tomorrow at dawn. And don’t wear any loose clothing, don’t want anything your opponent can pull on.” You nodded as he walked away, secretly excited.

*

The next morning you stood outside his boat, waiting. It was quiet, only the soft sound of the waves sloshing filling the peace. Listening to Daltons advice, you had turned up in a sports bra and tiny little shorts. The door of the boat slammed open, Dalton stood there shirtless, also only in little shorts. Trying to tear your eyes away from his bare chest proved difficult and you could feel his eyes watching yours. A blush formed on your cheeks as you waved a hello to him.

“Alright so I’m going to basically tackle you first and show you where to put your hands and then you’re going to attempt to wrestle me down.” You nodded, feeling your breath catch in your throat with him coming so close.

“The easiest way to get somebody to the ground is a leg takedown. You basically grab onto one leg and throw yourself to the ground.” Dalton knelt down beside you, patting your thigh.

“I’ll do it real slow ok, honey?” You breathed out a sigh as Dalton stood up and took a step back.

“Ok so you’re going to dive at me, latch onto my leg, like this.” Daltons strong arms wrapped around your thigh and lurched forward. Your head landed on the sand, a dull throb travelled down your stomach as Dalton landed, half his body on yours, his arms still draped over your thigh.

“Oh well you made that look easy. Billy said you go super hard on him.” You pushed yourself up, readying yourself for another go.

“I can’t go too hard on you sweetheart, you’d break.” Dalton hovered over you, his voice sounding amused.

“Are you and Billy seeing each other?” You perked up at the question, a curious look in his eye.

“No, I’m not, just mates.” You narrowed your eyes up at him, but he shrugged, stepping back to show you another move.

“Okay, I want you to try that move on me.” He chuckled, seeing the look of hesitancy across your face. You readied yourself, crouching down and putting your hands out in front of you. Giving yourself a little runup you grabbed his leg and tackled him to the ground. You landed with a soft ‘oof’, arms like an iron grip on his thigh. He lifted his leg up, your grip faltered, you landed on his abs, leg thrown over the thigh you were gripping.

A playful smirk delighted his lips as you placed your hands on his chest, pushing yourself up, sitting on his thigh. You smiled, excited to have put him on the ground.

“See, you can go rougher with me.” You cheekily retorted to him, sticking out your tongue. Dalton’s eyes rolled, suddenly thrusting his hips upward, in one maneuver, throwing you off and pinning you to the ground, your hands above your head and his leg snug between yours, keeping you in place.

You gasped and struggled in his grasp, his knee nudging the softest parts of your thighs.

“See you’re fucked if someone gets you in this position. Go on, get out of it.” Dalton was speaking but your head was empty. You couldn’t focus on anything besides the feeling of him against your body. You were scared to move in case you accidentally grinded yourself on his leg. Dalton searched your eyes, trying to see if you heard him or not. He noticed the way your breath tightened and the way your stomach muscles clenched with him so close.

“Unless this is something you like? Being pinned down like this.” Dalton’s knee inched further up and you dug your heels in the sand, an overwhelming sense of embarrassment settling upon you. You thrusted back, throwing him off balance and kicking your leg over, kneeing him in the side. You lurched up, now pinning him to the ground, straddling him and holding one wrist each in your hands. His face inches from yours, he was letting you pin him there.

“Maybe you’re the one who likes to be pinned down?” Your voice was breathy and heavy, feeling Daltons eyes fixed on your chest you coughed, his eyes flung up to meet yours. For once it was him being caught staring and not you. In a rush of confidence, or madness, you let his wrist go and let your fingers run through his hair. A moment passed; you could feel your heartbeat in your chest thumping loudly. Daltons free hand slid up yours and pulled you down by your neck, your noses now bumping each other. Daltons other hand broke free of your grasp, cupping your face. His lips connected with yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer to him. He pulled a strangled sound from you feeling his hips roll against yours. A delicious feeling began to spread as you kissed him again, he nibbled at your bottom lip, his hands settling on your hips, kneading and squeezing. The lust in your eyes was palpable when you looked at him again, he couldn’t stop smirking at you. You grasped his hair, his teeth grazing at your neck, making his way down your sternum, to your stomach, nipping and sucking as he went. His fingers hooked delicately under your shorts, pulling them down and throwing them down the beach. The cool sand hit your butt, and you gasped, rolling your hips upwards. Dalton placed a kiss on your hip bone, sending chills through your body. His arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you closer and nuzzled his face in your thighs.

“Are you sure you want to do this right here in the open?” your face flushed at the prospect; his eyes met yours from between your thighs.

“We’re secluded here, nobody can see us.” You nodded and moaned, feeling him move your underwear to the side and pressing a hot kiss to your exposed cunt. His grip tightened on your thighs, licking a wet stripe into your pussy. You fisted the sand, a string of breathy moans leaving your mouth as he continued licking and sucking, sending shockwaves through you. You could feel yourself practically dripping onto the sand for him. Daltons eyes met yours as his middle and ring finger slipping inside you, immediately tugging upwards. Dalton groaned against you once he felt how wet you were for him, his hard crotch, grinding against the sand.

“You’re so wet.” Dalton whispered, his fingers picking up the pace, your heels dug in the ground, trying to bring yourself back to earth, you felt like you might float away.

“I need you, please.” You rolled your hips again, shuddering underneath the pleasure he was giving you. Dalton held you flush against him as he kissed back up your stomach, his hand brushed over your hardened nipple in your sports bra and pinched. You keened against him, nudging him up towards your mouth with your knees. He kissed you eagerly, right hand still kneading your boob and the other gripping firmly on your thigh, spreading you for him.

“You know I wanted to take you out to dinner, or lunch – anything. Thought you’d say no though, you’ve been a quiet little mouse. But now look at you, all spread out waiting for my cock.” Dalton slid your underwear to the side, leaving your pussy exposed as he pulled down his shorts. His fat cock slapped against your clit and you mewled at the feeling.

“I would have said yes if you asked me.” You whispered, feeling your cheeks warm, barely looking into his eyes. Dalton ran the tip of his dick over your wet pussy and chuckled.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re mine now.” He grinned but it fell away as he pushed his cock into you. You breathed heavily when he bottomed out, the pinch and stretch overwhelming.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll go real slow.” He smirked, mimicking his line from earlier. Dalton pulled out slightly and pushed back in agonizingly slowly. You let out a low quiet moan, adjusting to the feeling. Dalton hugged your thighs and lifted your legs up flush with his chest. His slow thrusts deepened at the new angle, his cock perfectly hitting that soft spot inside of you. All you could do was close your eyes and roll with his deep rhythm. He wrapped his arms around both your legs, his pace quickening. Your little moans turned loud breathless as his hips pounded into you. He wrapped his hands around your legs, completely locking you to his chest and raising your ass off the sand in the process. You all but dangled there as he hit the same deep spot in you over and over again. A warm flame was forming in your stomach, an explosion threatening to burst at any moment. Daltons pace did not relent and you moaned, grabbing fistfults of sand again, needing something to grab onto.

“I can feel you getting closer, honey.” His molten voice filled your ears and you nodded, too flushed and fucked out to speak.  Dalton’s pace slowed, his hips now rolling deep and slow against yours as he released your legs and pushed them against your chest. His thumb lazily stroked your clit, his thrusts doing most of the work moving you back and forth over it. You came suddenly with a gasp, waves of pleasure rolling through you. You tried to smack Dalton’s hand away, but he kept stroking your clit, turning your moans to breathless pleas as he fucked you into overstimulation.

“Where can I finish?” Daltons groans were louder now, his pace rapid and erratic as he neared his end.

“Inside me.” You whined and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him to your chest. His moans muffled in your neck as he came, hips stilling in a final thrust, pushing himself all the way in. He pulled out, watching as his seed spilled out of you and grinned.

“Would you like to have breakfast with me?”

[hestzhyen]

Already Waist-Deep

Hi internet void. Please allow me to kagura my bachi all over the place for a little bit. I've got a bad case of the brain worms about these boys that I haven't even had together for 20 chapters yet, so let me ramble a little bit about why they're already so compelling as not only a duo, but a ship.

First off, a caveat. Kagurabachi is a Weekly Shounen Jump (WSJ) action series. That means that if romance is ever addressed in the series itself, the protagonist is going to end up with a girl. Doesn't matter how underdeveloped or lackluster his relationship to her is, or how flat she is as a character. Invest lightly and come along for the ride without any expectations of m/m ships becoming canon. (That said, it might not be the worst thing in the world for our MC to end up with a girl in this case- more on that later.)

Second, I don't really ship that often. Not seriously at least. I need more than two guys being close with each other to start wanting them to be a pair, y'know? So I hope you understand the intensity of the material Hokazono-sensei has been giving us the past few chapters. I am on the brink of going all-in on HakuHiro/ChihiHaku in less than 20 chapters, it's that insane.

Third, I will be talking about current developments without marking potential spoilers. There are only 38 chapters out as of writing this, but there are at least two reveals that would be better appreciated going in blind. Spoilers for the oneshot Farewell! Cherry Boy are also a thing near the end.

Okay? Okay. Let's begin.

Who's Involved? First up is our protagonist Chihiro Rokuhira, an 18 year old boy and the son of a famous swordsmith. He was raised with genuine love and care by his father (no idea what happened to his mom yet), taking care of their day-to-day life while learning his father's trade. And from the very first chapter he is steeped in tragedy as he witnesses his father's murder and life's work being stolen. He then sets out on the long, fraught road of vengeance.

Sounds grim and not exactly compelling, right? Especially when this scene from the first chapter was making the rounds being memed to death:

But there's much more to Chihiro than meets the eye. Flashbacks to his time growing up show him being a natural caretaker to his dad and their fish- cooking meals, keeping his dad on task, and so on. We see glimpses of underlying tenderness when he meets and rescues Char, a sweet little girl with her own tragic past. And we get some insight that he might not be quite as resolute as he's projecting himself to be when he faces off against Sojo, a fan of his father who worships a much different version of the man than Chihiro knew. And now the Rakuzaichi arc has definitively shown us that Chihiro isn't as collected as he seems. One of his father's killers easily cracks the mask and shows us Chihiro is really just a desperate kid with a heaping helping of trauma, then Tenri's pointless sacrifice shakes him to his core. But despite it all he's still doing determinator things in the most badass way possible. Chihiro has layers, man. A lot of them. And the best way to understand our protagonist right now is through his foil: Hakuri Sazanami.

Who is Hakuri? A 17 year old boy with a special lineage, but he's a loser who needs to be saved from common thugs. A pathetic guy who latches on to Chihiro and doesn't take the hint when Chihiro literally runs away to ditch him. An utter failure to his family. A lost puppy looking for a samurai.

Hakuri Sazanami is one of the best goddamn foils I've seen in shounen manga yet.

Let me tell you all the ways I love the writing around this kid and Chihiro because MAN I can't even contain all these feels.

What's Going On? From the start, Hakuri looks like he's just another person for Chihiro to bail out. He witnesses Chihiro's awesomeness fighting Sojo in the streets and decides to imitate it by standing up for a little girl being kidnapped. Instead of winning out, though, he's captured and kicked around. Once he's coincidentally rescued by Chihiro he's immediately all-in on tagging along and keeping Chihiro in his life. Look at this pitiful guy:

Chihiro decides to hear him out due to his connection to the Sazanamis, the Big Bads of the arc. He's initially put off by Hakuri's intensity but brings him along anyway, as Hakuri's insider information regarding the Sazanami family makes him useful. Then, as Chihiro wavers under Hiyuki's assault, Hakuri is truly useful for the first time:

And it only gets better from here. We see Hakuri hanging off Chihiro's every word trying to be as useful as possible for his samurai, striving to do anything he can, though it ends up with him forcing Chihiro to give up his precious sword Enten in exchange for his life. (Yes, Chihiro "buys" Hakuri from Hakuri's own family.)

Later on during the invasion of the auction is where things go into overdrive though. We see their character arcs start to invert and shape each other's as the action unfolds and Hakuri's own tragic past comes to light, eventually awakening him to his special abilities. Chihiro's bravery and strength help him pull this off and finally defeat the older brother that tortured him in the name of "love". Hakuri ascends to being the strongest Sazanami since the progenitor that started their line centuries ago. He's the Special Boy!

All this to say that Hakuri Sazanami isn't just a deuteragonist or a foil…

He's the goddamn heroine.

Kagurabachi's Built Different What makes a shounen series heroine? Firstly, they support the main character without getting involved in most of the heavy fighting. A shounen heroine will usually at most have a fight against another girl while the Big Event is happening nearby, making sure the main character has the spotlight. Second, most of the value they bring to the protagonist's story is emotional. They encourage him, validate him, provide a bit of a refuge for him to safely let his guard down. They can get him to express softer emotions that he wouldn't normally show around others. Third… they're the love interest. Hinata, Orihime, Chichi, and now… Hakuri? Really?

We know the third one will not happen for HakuHiro in canon. But what about the first two? Well, let's recap what Hakuri has done for Chihiro so far.

Hakuri can defend himself now, but his most useful ability is access to an interdimensional storehouse. Given the way that his magic works -he needs to prioritize maintaining the storehouse or using Isou- he'll likely be the means of keeping the enchanted blades safe rather than a front-line fighter. Support-centric character that will still get some combat time against lesser opponents: check.

Hakuri's given Chihiro some much-needed direct emotional validation that he hasn't gotten from anyone else yet. ("You saved me." … "That katana suits you.") Hakuri's words fortify his resolve and Chihiro later pays it back by trading Enten, an incalculably precious sword and memento of his father, for Hakuri's life. He even uses the same phrase when asked why he'd do that for someone as worthless as Hakuri ("That guy… saved me."). He later reaffirms that Hakuri's encouragement gave him the courage to let go of Enten in the first place:

This is AFTER we see Chihiro open up to him for the first time just minutes after they met:

Chihiro's been a stoic good guy with buried trauma up until this point. But somehow Hakuri is the first person he outright admits his fears to- not Shiba, not Hinao, but the freaky kid he just rescued. Emotional support pillar: check.

"Well that's not enough!" you say. "That's just taking some moments and doing that thing you said you didn't do- smushing boys together just because they're close!" OK but look at how Hakuri thinks about Chihiro:

Chihiro has been his inspiration from the first time he saw him. It can be read as admiration and hero worship, but doesn't that feel like selling Hakuri's feelings short when remembering how devoted he's been since they first met?

And just look at Hakuri's face here, he's beaming when Chihiro busts in to save him just like he believed he would:

Mostly, though, Chihiro is the one who gives Hakuri strength in the moment. The Ice Woman broke him free of his family's mentality, and now Chihiro gives Hakuri what he needs most: hope. Something he never had before, which doomed his relationship to the Ice Woman; he couldn't prove to her that there was more to life than despair because that was all he knew… but that completely changed once he met his samurai.

And that's been their thing through this arc. Each one is giving the other the vital thing they needed to grow and keep going. When Hakuri was struggling at the start, Chihiro was his guiding light towards a better future. And when Chihiro struggled in the aftermath of Tenri's cruel death, Hakuri pulled him along so they could finish the job. They're in perfect sync now as they take down the Rakuzaichi. Don't just take my word for it, check out Hokazono-sensei's color page for the most recent chapter (38): https://twitter.com/KaguraShiba/status/1804898273859445181 From Hella (KaguraShiba): >Kagurabachi Ch 38 JP Color Page 「阿吽の呼吸で薙ぎ払え」 "Two people dancing to the same beat, mowing down enemies" >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Synchronized breathing >Or when people are the most in tune with each other >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Is a Buddhist expression in Japanese meaning something close to "harmonizing in sync together" >"Aun" is also used to indicate an "Aun relationship", indicating an inherently harmonious relationship or nonverbal communication Yeesh. But holy shit it's paying off. In chapter 38 these boys are already in harmony- Hakuri registers Chihiro into his storehouse (yes they both "own" each other now) and sends him in to fight his father. During the fight, Chihiro trusts Hakuri to interpret his intent and it works. Chihiro wordlessly tags a bunch of grenades with his spirit energy and Hakuri pulls them out into the real world to bomb the shit out of the Rakuzaichi audience. They didn't plan this beforehand- they had no idea Kyoura had fucking grenades laying around in there. But they're close enough to understand each other's thoughts already. Peak soulmate material right there!

What's got me most interested now, though, is how they will pull/push each other after this arc. Chihiro's going to be focused more than ever on tracking down his father's killer and the swords. But Hakuri, well… I think it would be very interesting if he starts to become a despair monster. A reflection of Chihiro's state at the very start of the manga where nothing mattered to him except exacting revenge. We're seeing shades of this in the most recent chapter (38) where he's slumped over and obviously depressed about how all this is turning out. He's going to end his family's cruel trade but at what cost to himself? Will Chihiro see some of himself in Hakuri and be able to help him out, or at least promise to find relief from the pain together? Obviously a Bad End where Hakuri takes himself out is in the cards given Hokazono-sensei's previous works but… on a meta level, I think his storehouse ability will keep him relevant. I mean yeah he could be used to slap Chihiro across the face by showing what a bad end for his revenge story could look like but I think (hope) that won't happen. [Note to future self: I give you permission to go batshit insane if Chihiro stops Hakuri from committing sudoku.]

And this is where my brain worms are coming from. In just under 20 chapters we have an extremely strong set up between them- so much room for them to teach each other; push to grow and pull back from the brink when tragedy strikes again.

But where's the real meat, you ask? The actual literary analysis in this gushing rant about how much I love these boys I barely know? Well, fine. Buckle up because it's time for some…

Daddy Issues The Rakuzaichi arc really digs into comparing Chihiro's affection for his dad to the Sazanami family structure. And I gotta talk about this because it's the key aspect that makes Hakuri such a brilliant foil.

First off, the similarities. Chihiro and the Sazanami kids are all intensely devoted to their fathers. All of them were raised with love while learning the intricacies of their family trade. We see the Sazanami kids getting praised for doing well, just like Chihiro. Hakuri and Tenri were even told they were special. During the arc, the Sazanami kids put their lives on the line to defend their dad and family legacy with zeal matched by Chihiro's intensity to avenge his dad. When he falls, Tenri's final words are apologizing to his father.

It's truly heartbreaking that Kyora never really loved them back.

You see, the Sazanamis are one of those families that put their lineage and craft over everything else. Every member of the family lives for ensuring the Rakuzaichi auction goes off without a hitch. One of the clan is chosen to inherit the storehouse, and the rest are trained to defend it to the death. Kyoura, the current patriarch, has no compunctions about letting his son Tenri die just to delay Chihiro and the gang for a few more minutes. He had his kids put their lives on the line to defend a storehouse door that he had already broken in secret- making it completely useless. And he's equally cold when it comes to children who can't perform to standards like Hakuri. Once Hakuri (apparently) fails to manifest an ability for sorcery, Kyoura turns a willfully blind eye to the abuse his kid starts to suffer. He knowingly lets Hakuri be tortured by his older brother for years and does nothing, then disowns him once some "merchandise" kills herself in front of him. There's no love for children who can't be useful to the family's traditions. And yet any love that does exist between father and child is manipulated as seen here:

What the fuck man.

So Hakuri is going into this arc firm in his conviction to end his family's evil ways. He's been abused physically and emotionally for at least five years straight; he knows his father doesn't love him. But even now when he's about to bring the whole place down with Chihiro, he's still yearning for his dad's praise. Hakuri's family is fucked up bad and he needs a hell of a lot of healing after all is said and done.

Meanwhile, every flashback with Chihiro shows us that he was truly loved and cared for like every kid deserves. His dad wasn't perfect but he was exactly what a parent should be- kind, understanding, and supportive. His goofy advice helps Chihiro to this day. Chihiro and his dad had a genuine father-son bond that was broken by tragedy and thus Chihiro's desire to do right by his father's memory is driven by grief, first and foremost. So when we see his expression after Tenri's death, we know why he's so badly shaken. They clashed out of love and duty for their fathers, supposedly prepared to pay the ultimate price. The Sazanami version of "love" is a very different, much less wholesome version than the kind Chihiro knows… yet no less effective in terms of motivation.

You can practically hear his heart breaking for Tenri. And his inner thoughts in the next chapter say it all: he was naive to think he could enact revenge while holding fast to the kindness he grew up with. Chihiro's kindness that he learned from his father is a liability to him in this situation. In contrast, Hakuri knew from the start that he had to finally give up the last of his familial affection. He hardened his heart and steeled his resolve to do whatever it took.

Both Chihiro and Hakuri knew what it was like to be loved. Hakuri's version might have been twisted, but it was still painful to have that bond suddenly broken. And now we've seen Edgy Revenge Man's inner softness hold him back while Silly Soft Guy has a heart colder than the arctic. I go absolutely feral comparing and contrasting their situation and how their positions have reversed. Yeah, Chihiro's going to be the action guy who saves the day but Hakuri's the reason he can do it. Hakuri's surprisingly strong core has pushed Chihiro to put his feelings aside to get things done. I can't fucking wait to see how this arc ends and where these boys end up. What will the the most important thing Chihiro takes away from Hakuri here? I hope it leads him to be a bit more openly compassionate and soft around his allies- Hakuri's situation being a lesson in not letting your family's bonds overtake everything else. For Hakuri, well… I think being around Chihiro, Char, and the rest will help him heal. But I hope it's Chihiro that keeps him stable as the person that can relate to him best.

Meta Ramblings Whew. Now then… Yo dumbass writing this, we're not even 40 chapters in yet. Don't you think it's a bit too soon to start getting hyped for a character that could be shelved as soon as the arc is done?

It's interesting to see the themes and characters Hokazono-sensei's reused in Kagurabachi. From the four one-shots available to read, it seems like he's is interested in writing about characters encountering tragedy through various kinds of love. I think it's intriguing that three out of the four end in despair, and the one that doesn't still involves a fair bit of sadness. It's a bit early to say about Hakuri's circumstances since this is only the second proper arc in the series, but given Hokazono-sensei's past works, I think Hakuri is here to stay. For one, Hokazono-sensei seems to love his color-coded foils (Chain, Enten, Roku no Meiyaku). Farewell! Cherry Boy also explores the circumstances of a blindly loyal boy who feels useless being given his first chance to prove himself… I think this is a theme that Hokazono-sensei is revisiting in a more in-depth fashion with Hakuri, so there's a good chance there's more planned.

And just for fun, if we want to look at his romance stories… Madogiwa de Amu is all about one person being the other's greatest hope, their reason to persevere in the face of hardship and seeing that reciprocated in turn. Complete with the weaker person becoming strong enough to protect the person who inspired them first. Hmm. (Hopefully it doesn't end the same way though 'cause man, I can see Hakuri doing something similar right now…) It's also not impossible for Kagurabachi to touch on love given we see Farewell! Cherry Boy incorporating love as the crux of the narrative, despite starting as a gangster story. The true MC is quite like Chihiro as well in terms of motivation and action plan.

I also think it's impossible to overstate how important it is for Chihiro to have a friendly peer to compare to, narratively speaking. Char is a woobie, Shiba's an uncle figure, and Hiyuki is set up to be the aggro rival/frenemy. Hinao could become more than a side character but it seems unlikely at this time. Chihiro needs someone his own age to just be himself with. And that, I am 99% sure, will be Hakuri. A guy who's suffered just as much as he has. Someone who knows what it's like to have a famous last name and lineage to protect. An equal who's unquestionably on his side, who will lift him up when he's down, yet will still need some protection and care. So yes I think Hakuri will be sticking around to be Chihiro's foil. He might take a back seat at times as heroines do, but he'll still be there to support our sad boi through thick and thin.

Anyway that's why I'm ready to jump feet-first into this ship. It's got all the hallmarks of a wonderfully strong bond and I hope we get to see these boys comforting each other for years to come. If you read all this… thank you? Maybe get yourself checked for brain worms? And tell everyone you know to read this amazing action-packed tragedy laced with BL crack cocaine.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The Legend of the Haunted Mansion... Creed Reader AU:

(Warning: Mentions of abuse, death, possible suicide, mentions of someone going insane, and death of past Reader... you have been warned...)

• The old mansion, belonging to an old, secretive family, strays far past the modern road, and trails deep into the woods, towards the older waterways and near the mud... It's been there for ages, possibly two hundred years... The halls are covered in cobwebs, the rooms filled with dust, the air deathly still and cold, cold as death... Some say they can still hear the echoing cries of its residents, their haunting wails, their ghastly screams... Especially of the family who owned the estate...

• They were the Creed-Howlett family, one odd for their time. The mansion already had a secretive past, how it was built and why, and what happened to the parents of the brothers who inherited it. The family was run by two brothers, one by the name of Victor Creed, tall and sharp and blonde, a sabretooth tiger in the flesh, and one by the name of Logan Howlett, short and pointy and dark, as tough as a wolverine. These two were ferocious by nature, natural-born hunters and adventurers, and brothers by unknown family ties... They ran the estate, decorating it with their trophies and strange treasures, throwing lavish parties for their friends and their own amusement...

• The brothers would soon have heirs, though no one is sure how they were born, or to whom. All anyone knew was that the two brothers welcomed two children into their home, each expected to inherit their thirst for blood and vengeance... One was a brown-haired girl, poised and cunning and intelligent, sharp as a whip and just as dangerous with one in hand. Her name was Laura Howlett, taken in by Logan, and raised to be his successor... Then there was Reader Creed, a child that was kind and soft-hearted, one who was loud and caring of other living beings. This would drive a wedge between them and their family, as Reader Creed was quite different from the expectations of their family, or of society in general...

• Where their father and uncle were deadly, smart, and masterminding the downfall of their rivals and any perceived enemies, and where their cousin was perceived to be the more charming, socially acceptable heir, Reader Creed was ahead of their time. While others would frown on being so openly emotionally, that was what they were. They were blunt, honest, sincere, which their family, nor their friends, were, nor the society they were in. Reader Creed happened to be more interested in art than the hunt, sculpting odd creatures and painting scenes in soft colors, even making small toys from stuffing and scrapped cloth, rather than stuffing hunted animals or hunting large creatures. Even in social settings they stood out, not wearing clothes that were deemed appropriate, but rather wearing what they wished, no matter how it looked or how others felt.

• This tended to anger their family and the family's friends, annoying them and causing harsh emotions to well up. For some, it might have been enough to set up an unfortunate accident, which would lead to the wounding of the young heir. Records show that something, almost like a wild animal, had clawed them, harming their vision and scarring their face and neck. The following weeks, it was said they stayed locked away in their room, quiet as a whisper, slowly losing touch with reality.

• After the youngest Creed was well enough to walk around, it was noted how they were harder to find, often staying out of sight of others and avoiding rooms if they knew they were occupied. Some could hear them crying, when they thought they were alone. Others thought they heard whispers, words of pain and sadness, whispered in the dead of night. It wasn't long before Reader Creed would disappear...

• It was during a cold night in the snows of Winter that they went missing. A party had been thrown to celebrate a successful find by the two Creed-Howlett brothers, attended by their friends and allies and well-wishers. Some, such as the business partners Xavier and Lehnsherr, as well as old friends of the like as Ms. Darkholme and Mr. McCoy, even some young wards and students and heirs of the people were there, curious and excited... The last anyone saw of Reader Creed at the party was on their own, face fresh with their scars, and their eyes crestfallen, bright with tears... As the party was in full swing, they disappeared...

• No one was aware they had left until it was time to have everyone gathered... When a few noticed the young heir missing, a few guests offered to search for them, believing they weren't far. The look for them wasn't fruitful, no one being able to find the missing child in the main rooms. The search widened, as their family became involved... Yet when they checked their relative's favorite places to hide away, there was no one there. Now everyone knew they were missing. Some questioned if they'd been kidnapped. Others thought they passed out after leaving the party. And others thought they went outside...

• When they went to the gardens to check, they found footprints in the fresh snow. This lead the searchers deeper into the grounds, where the trail eventually died, covered by the snow that kept falling. There were no boot prints. Nor any missing coats or thicker gowns or jackets. Reader Creed had left barefooted, in the dark of a wintery night, without any protection from the elements. Their family and their guests fell into a panic, hoping they would find the young heir before it was too late-!

• But they did not...

• Reader Creed would eventually be found a few days later, frozen to death in the mausoleum, snow caught in their hair and fingers raw from scratching at the door, which had closed on them that fateful night, sealing them in a premature grave... Once they were found, their family fell apart...

• Laura Howlett would shut herself away, refusing to see anyone unless they were her father or uncle. The few who managed to speak with her reported she had become depressed, bitter, angry, keeping to herself and only seeing her closest friends. In later years, she would die from a fever, haunted even to death by what she thought were the cries of her cousin...

• Logan Howlett would fall into his work, burying himself into hunting and selling furs and bones of the creatures he'd find. It was said he started to indulge in drugged tea, hoping to escape his own guilt, yet instead only seeing his missing relative. Many nights he would spend pacing the halls, grieving and screaming in anger and loss... After his daughter passed, he would soon follow, having been poisoned by a viper, that no one knew where it came from...

• And Victor Creed, eldest brother and patriarch of the family, fell into enraged, fitful insanity. It was gradual, starting with denial, then acceptance of the death of his child... But his thoughts seemed to spiral, the longer it was without Reader Creed, and only fell deeper, harder, with the passing of Laura, then Logan... After he had outlived his entire family, it was said he would stalk the halls, hunting for phantoms that didn't exist, performing rituals thought to bring back the dead, grieving for the loss of his family...

• Tragedy befell the family's friends and allies as well, many meeting tragic ends or having haunting fates. While some would live to be old, most died rather young, insane or wounded... The mansion, still standing, is thought to be haunted, though no one walks its halls anymore... Rumor has it there's a new groundskeeper being hired, to take care of the old graveyard and garden, hopefully to bring some former glory back to the estate's decaying self...

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

saw you accept teamfortress 2 requests... so maybe I was thinkin you could write a enimes to lovers kinda thing with scout and GN reader? Same thing for Pyro and medic? Please and thank you?

(My first time askin without being an annon :>)

It's you- all the roads lead to you.

Scout/Pyro/Medic x Gender neutral! Reader enemies to lovers romantic headcanons Summary: How cruel you are for a Blu merc. Warnings: Reader is the 10th merc for Blu team (what kind of merc isn't specified), red team headcanons, (not a warning but just a statement) Pyro uses interchanging she/he/they pronouns, mention of violence (not descriptive). Word Count: 1.1k ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

Scout:

It’s insanely easy to become his enemy with how boastful he is, you wouldn’t even need to be on the enemy team to become an enemy of his. Scout is very vocal about his accomplishments and genuinely views himself as better than many, especially Blu team.

While out on the battlefield, you heard him loudly proclaiming his excellence and kill him from annoyance. You are on the opposing team just makes it worse on his end, sitting in respawn and realizing you had also killed him several times before. Other interactions with opposing forces lead to him in respawn because of you! You!

Scout would target you more times than not, intentionally hitting you while reprimanding you. After his constant violence against you, your annoyance would turn to hatred.

It is more likely you both meet when Miss Pauling is going about getting the mercs together for the Administrator. You both were stuck together and were forced to talk, mainly being encouraged to stop any violence that could possibly entail.

Scout would, again, naturally, degrade you and tell you you weren’t as important as he was for the team. It would go on for such a long time, even the other mercs (for both Blu and Red) getting annoyed by it.

It would be a gradual care he would get, starting with compliments that he would hide with a bit of degradation.

“You’re really good at killing the robots but I’m, like, ten billion times better at it. Don’t get your hopes up on being better.”

When he gets back to Red with Heavy, he’ll spend his time telling you how his muscles are huge because he pushed the ginormous rock ten feet and how Heavy was like “woah!” and stuff. Scout will state it’s to show how much better he is than you but it’s to see if you find that attractive.

You probably ask him out. He was going to, but he was so busy hyping himself up for it he forgot the time! Scout will act like he knew and that he understood why you’d fall for such a gorgeous man as himself. Of course, he’s a tomato but will accept your proposal of a date almost instantly.

“Of course you’d fall for me, who wouldn’t!”

Medic:

It’s likely you were a faster merc, making it around the battlefield quick enough to harm several red mercs and making Medic run around helping them. Your existence is draining and beyond annoying. You don’t deal enough damage to kill them but just enough to have them need his help.

Medic would spend his time encouraging you to just go for him personally.

“You might as well go for me to get the others down, no point in running around if I’ll just get them fixed.”

And you then wake up in respawn.

With the news from Miss Pauling needing Red and Blu to work together, he was one of the most annoyed. Medic would have to deal with you. You! And it’s not like you’d like him back, those little stunts where he’d taunt you then kill you didn’t fly with you.

He’d find a way to get Archimedes to attack you whenever you were near his lab.

To encourage him to be kind to you, you allow him to experiment on you. Don’t expect him to be kind but he’ll enjoy it. It’s mostly because, in that situation, he’ll have the upper hand.

Will use the experiment times to do random things to you, whether it’s detrimental or not is not fully disclosed while he’s working. You’ll hear him giggling while he’s about doing his own thing, you’ll ask why, and he’ll answer by saying it’s nothing (it’s not nothing).

Most likely in denial when it comes to his feelings since you’re so annoying! And you aren’t entertaining to watch but he does like looking at you. Medic will claim it’s because you’re funny looking when in reality, it’s because he’s trying to understand why he feels the way he does. But he can’t fully accept his feelings.

It’s quite entertaining to witness you doing stupid things while fighting the OG Team Fortress mercs with Medic watching, going through the five stages of grief when he realizes he’s still attracted to you.

He’s the most likely one to ask you out once everyone is at a calmer point in the mission. Medic will not be traditional about his proposal, simply giving you a well-kept human heart for the occasion. Don’t gag, of course.

“It’s very nice, very pristine. I kept it in good shape for you!”

Pyro:

If Pyro hates you, it’s more likely because you’re a water based merc for Blu team. You would go around helping fix the fires she had created intentionally. It would then lead to a hatred that he couldn’t deny, absolute hatred.

They’d target you at random points on the battlefield, especially in water areas where you’d more likely be around. The hatred you gain is because she’s a fire based merc, just simple hatred, maybe even stereotypical. But who cares, you both hate each other.

When out and about on a random morning, Pyro found you alone, sitting with the water. She naturally tries avoiding you since it wasn’t something he wanted to deal with in the morning. Then you stopped them and tried encouraging a normal coworker relationship because Miss Pauling needed Red and Blu to work together.

The way Pyro would be grateful Blu members can’t understand him is beyond words, she quietly makes remarks about the way you do things and Red team would be forced to listen to whatever they had to say about you.

If you tried being kind to him, she’d take it with a grain of salt. You set a fire for them? Are you going to torture him by putting it out before she can truly enjoy it? They bet you will!

It wouldn’t take as long as the others when it comes to gaining feelings for you. Yeah, Pyro is violent but when you need to work together and you’re putting an effort into making him happy, she can’t deny the feelings they gradually get for you.

It would be a quiet crush thing. She follows you around since he doesn’t know how to fully express to you how they feel. And it’s also because she kind of wants to admire you but that’s not for you to know.

Another thing Pyro does is constantly try protecting you. She knows other mercs don’t like him for the fire and stuff, so they’re beyond willing to follow you around to help you.

Pyro vision gives hearts around you.

Asking you out will be eventual, but very difficult. Once, she tried being vocal about his feelings and you couldn’t understand a word. Then, they turned to note writing and that went ten times better.

Pyro adores when you kiss their mask, especially the areas that would be considered mouth areas. You’ll never see her without the mask, but you’ll get used to it.

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

TF2 masterlist Request list

[bucknastysbabe]

Sleepover Challenge - C.Cole

Prompts

20: “take off your clothes” 77: “want help with that”

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Criston likes to make his insane Targ gf jealous, toxic couple, jealousy, self depreciation, couple’s spats as foreplay, world building, au Criston ditches to Essos with a diff Targ, pnv!sex, rough sex, degredation kink, erotic choking, talkin bout FEELINGS, fluffy toward the end

A/N: I used an OC (random timing I know) but she’s Aemond’s twin. To make a long mf story short: they ditched the war and went to Essos to start a mercenary company. If you enjoy two toxic insane people there’s more of them on my page xoxo

Taglist: @bambitas @valeskafics @fairysluna @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @starogeorgina @targaryenbarbie @sugarpoppss2

Thanks and shoutout to @targaryen-dynasty ❣️

The princess narrowed her eyes, calculating how many ways she could kill her other half. Skysinger flew overhead, blending in with the clouds. Valaerys knew they would have to take shit jobs to build a credible reputation. Currently their company ranks included Criston, a Qohorik bowman, a pair of exiled Northern hedge knights, and the once enslaved pit fighter from Astapor. Not a bad crew. Especially when one has a dragon.

This particular entourage was idiotic. She could’ve hoisted the Volantene quim onto the dragon and be done with it. There, the dainty little thing was dropped off in in Braavos. But no. Criston insisted on the gold they would get protecting the passage of Volantene Triarch’s daughter as she traveled to Braavos to meet a sea-lord’s son.

Valaerys Targaryen didn’t like the girl at all. She was vapid and moony eyed for her lover. Criston, the cunt, seemed to enjoy the attentions— smiling and regaling the girl’s questions in fine Valyrian. He picked up the language quite well, surprisingly. Bastard Valyrian dialects weren’t so stiff on pronunciations.

The travel was long and agitating, boring truly. Criston and Valaerys’ small company only slaughtered some weak bandits near old Rhoynar ruins. They traveled on the black Valyrian roads, all on horses. The way the triarch’s daughter clung to Criston and thanked him with big lavender eyes after they killed the bandits made the former princess see red. She needed to punch something. Quick.

Their protected charge was too pretty. Jealousy burned within the Targaryen’s chest as she stewed on it. The girl was all delicate features and soft curves, utterly gorgeous. Nothing like Valaerys lanky frame, long nose, and boring straight hair. Merlot colored eyes stared into the campfire, pouty lips downturned.

Criston sidled up to his princess, nosing playfully at her cheek with a kiss. She glared and pointedly ignored the knight. Morak— the pit fighter— began to grin at the pair of them. He continued to eat and chuckle. Criston murmured lowly “What’s gotten stuck into your craw?” He settled his warm hand high up on her thigh, sliding inwards teasingly.

Valaerys grumbled absently while chewing on rations, keeping her face forward, focusing on not shivering from Criston’s big hand on her thigh. So close to where she wanted his irritating smiley face. Instead she hissed right back at him. “Don’t you need to go watch over the doll in her fancy tent? Make sure she doesn’t have any nightmares?”

The knight’s thoughts went two different ways. His pride puffed with Val’s obvious jealousy, seeking to push her a bit farther, she was something else when angered. Criston’s other side grew annoyed at her bratty behavior. He was merely being chivalrous with the noble girl, practicing his conversational Valyrian more than anything.

The Essosi girl definitely wanted a piece of him, Criston was not that dumb, but he was dumb enough to enjoy stoking his true love’s fiery temper. He rolled dark eyes at Morak, turning back to invade his pretty girl’s space. She scooted farther away, brows furrowing.

“You’re really this upset? We’re doing a job, I’m merely providing good service so we gain notoriety. You could stand to be a bit kinder,” he said. Cole’s lips grazed her ear as he admonished the angry woman. She flushed and eyed him, whispering back angrily, “Good service is coddling and carrying the mewling kitten around? She’s pretty, I get it.”

The princess slapped his big hand away from her thigh, stomping off to go see what Skysinger was up to. Criston called once, “Valaerys! Get back here!” Val was too pissed off to deal with him. Unfortunately there were familiar footsteps catching up, the knight snatching her around the midsection, pulling up close.

He rumbled, “You’re being fucking dramatic, when have I ever strayed from you?”

Valaerys wanted to sink into his body, relax and kiss those soft lips of his, catch the warm gleam in dark eyes. But she was horribly set in her head, properly offended. Criston pinched at her hip, seeking an answer.

“You’ve been by her side the entire time, maybe I could ride with the girl for once? Put the two Barrowton idiots beside her horse. You like the new cunt? Younger and richer? More power?”

Criston’s own temper flared, quickly stepping back to point a finger at the prickly blonde as he raved, “Fine then. Ride with the girl! Maybe you’ll learn some manners after all this godsdamn time! She sure has them.”

“Oh fuck you Criston!”

“If I did would you stop being such a venomous bitch?” He retorted right back, smug at her reddened face under the moonlight. Valaerys scoffed, lips trembling before continuing her quest to visit her winged beast. The ex-hand was going to show her what she thought was occurring. He stood with clenched fists, turning on his foot to sit back at the fire.

He stopped one more time, debating on whether to try again. The brunette shook his head— no, the princess wouldn’t change her mind after this spat.

Loroi was quiet, like most Qohorik. He had a fox-like face and gleaming dark eyes. Criston sat back onto the ground, angrily slugging some fermented shite from the wineskin. Loroi asked in poor common tongue “You two are…heated this trip?” Morak laughed brashly, explaining in his bastard Valyrian, “You’ve never seen a lover’s spat bowman?”

Ser Garett snorted, “They just find ways to be mad so,” his friend Ser Kendal finished, “So to spice up the fuckin’.”

Then they all burst into laughter. Criston grimaced. His princess was indeed quite angry. Not the fun way the men were mentioning either. Maybe once she rode with the fellow Valyrian things would ease up. He really didn’t enjoy seeing the princess so angered she wasn’t ready to fuck, that’s how it always went with them.

Ser Cole sighed as the Triarch’s daughter fought with the horse’s saddle. Yesterday’s ride did not go as he preferred. Valaerys made an effort to speak to the fellow blonde. Which was quite the effort considering how she already perceived the girl— a threat. The Volantene noble seemed dismissive of the dragonrider, pointedly talking to him instead.

His Val didn’t speak a word afterward and for the rest of the night beside dropping acrid backhanded insults.

Ser Criston Cole was laying it on thick in the meantime, drawing on that easy charm he held when prancing around tourneys in King’s Landing. Cole practically cooed, “Need help with that my lady?” The spoilt child seemed to enjoy Westerosi customs. She nodded eagerly, blushing, lilac eyes shiny with awe. Leaning over and straightening out the straps with a quick snap, Cole’s hand grazedacross her soft arm in the process.

Valaerys immediately slowed her horse’s gait, lips downturned as she rode in stride with Loroi. He could feel the heat on the back of his head. Hell, she might call Skysinger down. The Volantene babbled as they neared Braavos, the giant statue appearing on the horizon.

Criston helped her down the horse, kissing her ringed hand, leading the blonde to the manse of the Sealord. He was on an ego trip, his contemptuous lover growing more agitated by the second. The ex-princess completed the transaction, gaining extra gold for ‘the knight’. Valaerys stormed out when the Triarch’s daughter laid her plush lips on Criston’s stubbled cheek.

The Targaryen was planning murder. The rest focused to find a nice inn and rest for a night or two before returning to home base in Qohor. They managed to find a nice one, a bustling bar covered in colorful streamers on the street level.

Val ordered for three rooms. Criston relaxed a bit— worried he may have gone too far to fuck with her.

They drank, Cole making multiple attempts to talk to his lover. Valaerys narrowed her dark eyes at him, a bit drunker than he expected, cheeks prettily flushed. She bit out sourly “Do you find yourself enamored with every bitch with blonde hair and purple eyes on the planet?” Gritting her sharp jaw she shoved at Criston, eyes calculating.

He couldn’t help but grin at her behavior. Sometimes Criston smiled when he was agitated, heated for a fight. He snatched the leggy blonde over and pressed his face close to hers, laughing, “You truly are envious! We left our old lives together, you’re smarter than that, girl.”

She bit his bottom lip, rasping, “Flirty asshole, smiling and playing Ser Cole, fuck you,” her hands gripped at his waist while kissing him roughly, “Get your ass to the room.” Criston took his ass up to the room, the princess close behind, lobbing insults.

As soon as the door closed and locked behind them, Valaerys shoved the knight into the wall, cursing. “Take your clothes off. Fucking prick. You think it’s so funny to play with me like that? Made me feel like a godsdamn ninny, moping over how pretty she was.”

Val stepped back to shuck off her boots. Criston felt a bit afraid for what was to come but his cock was harder than the Smith’s hammer. He loved his princess like this, still grinning as he divested his armor and clothes.

“Why the fuck are you smiling? You’re lucky!”

The former Kingsguard was used to a little manhandling from his lover but she was raw aggression, shoving him flat onto the bed and crawling atop, slapping his cheek and barking, “Shit-stirrer. You knew I was upset!” He’d be lying if he said he didn’t whimper a bit.

“I should just get myself off on your thigh and leave you dry,” she hissed.

Criston tried to grovel a bit, his hands batted away from those gorgeous thighs. He pled, “Val, come on, I was merely playing to piss you off. That child was a babbling idiot.” Her dark wine colored eyes softened a hair— face turning back to anger.

“Well you’ve succeeded in pissing me off, Cole. Slut. You’re a slut. No better than the whores flashing their tits on the Street of Silk for a little coin.”

She plastered her pale body against his tanned, wet cunt sliding over his poor cock. Criston choked on his breath, eyes flashing in excitement. He breathed, “It excites me when you get angry my love, I went too far. Quit, let’s fuck it out.”

She slapped him again, lips crashing against his own, pussy grinding against him as she rocked her hips. Criston groaned and Valaerys’ tongue slid right in, twisting with his own, the pair in a frenzy. The tip of his cock kept catching against her slick opening, begging, “C’mon— Valaerys, please, I- ah- apologize. You’re the love of my life!”

She whined softly, demanding afterward, “Keep talking, oh gods, keep fucking talking.”

Criston was going to lose his mind, his soaked cock half-enveloped in her warmth but not sunken in that tight cunt. He panted and writhed, fisting his hands in the sheets. The knight knew he sounded embarrassingly needy as he kept apologizing.

“Pretty baby, fucking shit, you’re so gorgeous. Those legs, pretty lips, how your cute little tits f-feel on me— that other slut wouldn’t stand ahhaaah- chance! Lemme touch you, need it.”

Valaerys cried out and grabbed his bigger hands to massage at her tits, rutting her pussy frantically across Criston’s swollen cock. She placed both hands on his shoulders for balance, cursing and trembling as she grew closer. He always knew her signs.

“M’gonna cum on your filthy cock, you attention whore,” she groaned throatily.

“Please, please, please,” Criston panted.

Tweaking at her nipples had the angered dragon fall apart babbling and clenching. His own release was closer than expected— but Criston wanted her cunt so bad. He begged, “Mm, Val, sweetling, my favorite girl, let me fuck you, I’ll do whatever you want, just!” He whined sharply, frustration clouding coherency.

The blonde smiled teasingly, blissed out and fuck drunk. She patted Criston’s cheek to jape “That’s right, remember whose pussy this is?” She moved upward, muscles flexing in her thighs. Taking ahold of the knight’s prick she continued, “Whose cock it���s only fit for. Don’t do it again or I ought to make you a eunuch.”

Criston’s eyes rolled up when she enveloped his aching cock— groaning pitiful and high. Valaerys rasped his name, hands locking around the tender skin of his throat. He saw the twisted look in her eyes, possessive and eager. The knight knew he was getting used. Thoroughly.

All the brunette did was hold onto her hips as he gasped and threw his head back, quiet sounds slipping out. Val’s strong thighs flexed as she rode him roughly, a moan pushed out on every wet slap of their skin— sweat and release.

“You like that Criston? You wanted me to be mad, fuck you into the bed?” She managed, blonde hair falling from a once meticulous braid. Criston whimpered when she tightened her hands, nodding a yes. Her sweet pussy pulled and massaged his cock, the quick movements bringing him closer and closer.

She leaned down to his gaping mouth, spitting into it with a pleased look. Criston swallowed, almost choking because of her hands. Val exclaimed, slapping his tanned flank with a praise, throwing her head back. He was twitching and trying his best to fuck back against swift movements, drinking in her exposed neck and pretty tits.

She tightened harder, gritting out, “You’re fucking mine, best heed that, Ser Cole.”

The knight’s mouth hung open as she placed pressure on the sides of tender throat, sending his head into a tizzy. His hips helplessly stuttered as he tensed, lips stretched around a silent cry, Criston came so hard his vision went blank. Floating in rapture before coming back still in the throes.

Valaerys let go and came right along as his pumps of hot seed coated her tight cunt. Criston sucked in a breath before exhaling out a sob, then a slurry of moans and whines— stimulated and assaulted by utter ecstasy. He wrapped his arms around her pale waist and yanked the Princess against him, riding out his orgasm, panting wetly against her pulsing neck.

She curled a hand in his dark hair, breathing rapid from her exertions. Criston’s cock gave a last pitiful jerk, the pair both whining. Silence enveloped the room besides breath and the occasional soft sound. The knight knew he needed to say something. Stagnancy filled the room as quickly as the pleasure settled down.

He rolled them to the side, cock sliding out in the process, Criston’s chest swelling at the ruined mess of his love’s cunt. Dark eyes met the familiar grape-like color. He cradled her face, stroking a sharp cheekbone. Her lashes fluttered, arm tightening around his torso.

“Valaerys,” he paused to swallow, “I apologize for upsetting you…behaving childishly. But do know you’re the only one who holds my heart, my soul, the one who holds me together. I should not have made you feel otherwise, my love.”

Val’s face twisted a little, emotions welling up. She was terrible with expressing them; always disliked tears from anyone. She murmured, “She was beautiful. You were being the gallant knight and I wondered— I wondered what it was like to be pretty for you.” She sniffed and rolled her eyes, “That was fucking stupid, I didn’t feel secure. I know I’m a bitch and look like my damn brother, no curves either. Then she comes along and reminds me of it.”

Criston frowned, finding himself chiding her like he did back in Westeros, “I don’t give a rats ass about that or the idiot child, I like you the way you are. You’re beautiful to me covered in ash and dirt, blood, still banging your fists on the training post and yelling at Aegon. In leggings and chain mail.”

She smiled a bit, getting clingier, how he knew Val was feeling loved. He hummed, kissing her soft lips gentle. The princess sniffled, “I love you. So much.”

Criston replied, “And I love you, stubborn wench. Forgot to include that trait of your twin, Targaryen. I’m yours.” Besides, she handled jealousy much better than he did. A dead body or two might be lain around Essos from staring too long, or that one making her laugh with a jape. Oh, such was the nature of their love.

[decanthrope]

I present an AU

In a world where there is no Boy Who Lived, Harry goes into property development and eventually finds his way into home renovations and flipping. He doesn’t tend to go for your ordinary fixer uppers but instead cursed houses. Because they’ve got charm (okay, maybe it extends a little more than just a charm). Because, to be unflinchingly honest, normal houses are boring.

So Harry likes the houses that have dark pasts, that other renovators and real estate agents have trouble getting off the market. He likes them even when they call him crazy and laugh that he’ll never be able to resell.

I love the idea of Harry buying this fancy estate, maybe something like Grimmauld Place, but it hates him and flights back every time he tries to do any kind of work on it.

I’m talking cupboards refusing go open when he tries to replace hinges only to smack open just as he’s about to give up and giving him a bloody nose. The door refusing to cooperate when he arrives every day, not unlocking and not opening when he finally brute forces the lock open.

I love the idea of him threatening the house, arguing, bargaining, bribing, and begging in turns while neighbours and passers by (muggle and wizard alike) goggle at him and thinking he’s insane. I love the idea od Harry having to smile, make awkward small talk and try to make people believe he’s normal despite months of this behaviour.

I love the idea of Draco, maybe a neighbour, maybe working nearby, watching all of this and slowly (and reluctantly) starting to have feelings about someone who’s absolutely insane. (And maybe sitting on his feelings because he knows Harry’s time is limited, and when he’s done working on the house, he’ll move on to the next one and leave Draco behind, and all he’ll have is memories that might actually be a weird fever dream.)

I love the idea (so much) of the house doing its damnedest to sabotage every effort Harry makes to flirt with Draco and trying so hard to play it off as being “sooo normal, it’s fine, we get along great! Honestly, it’s just being playful we have a great relationship. I love when the house keeps almost dismembering me! What? No, the fact that I nearly had 17 meltdowns when I did the double glazing and am now scared to go near windows probably for the rest of my life isn’t a trauma response!”

I especially love the idea of, despite Draco’s issues, them getting together like a 90s romance flick:

When the project is in its final stages of wrapping up and Harry has (despite the odds and the house’s best efforts to thwart him) fixed it up, Draco—stressed and emotionally overwhelmed by the thought of never seeing Harry again and missing out on the chance of happiness—runs after him and makes his great big confession. And then Harry goes, “not saying no, but, uh, I’m going to be around for the next six weeks at least to do staging and see if we can’t break some of the curses that would probably have any new owners dead in the first couple days. I was planning on asking you out before I left. Christ, Malfoy, I just closed on a property down the road, I’m not moving to a remote tropical island.”

[darkphoenix180]

Zeus: god of thunder and the sky. He is considered the ruler, protector, and father of all gods and humans. 

Hera: goddess of marriage, family, childbirth, and woman. She was the wife and sister of Zeus, and many of her most famous myths center around her jealous retributions to Zeus's infidelity.

Poseidon: god of the sea (and water in general), earthquakes, and horses. He was one of the most powerful gods in ancient Greek mythology, Poseidon was held responsible for earthquakes, rivers, floods, droughts, and anything involving water in general.

Demeter: goddess of harvest and agriculture. This was a hugely important role, which gave her the power to sustain life through the growth of all plants and grains, particularly cereal grains.

Ares: god of war and more properly the spirit of battle. He represented the distasteful aspects of brutal warfare and slaughter. Ares was noted for his beauty and courage, qualities which no doubt helped him win the affections of the Greek goddess Aphrodite.

Athena: goddess of wisdom, craft, and warfare. In wars where she was most commonly depicted, Athena embodied cold rationality, tactics, and strategy. Athena's cold logic stood in direct contrast to her brother Ares' rage, violence, and impulsiveness.

Apollo: god of archery, music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases, the sun and light, poetry, and more. One of the most important and complex of the Greek gods, he is the son of Zeus and Leto, and the twin brother of Artemis, goddess of the hunt. He is considered to be the most beautiful god and is represented as the ideal of the Kouros (ephebe, or a beardless, athletic youth).

Artemis: goddess of the hunt, the wilderness, wild animals, nature, vegetation, childbirth, care of children, and chastity. Artemis was very protective of her purity and gave grave punishment to any man who attempted to dishonor her in any form. Like all the Greek Olympic gods, Artemis was immortal and very powerful. Her special powers included perfect aim with the bow and arrow, the ability to turn herself and others into animals, healing, disease, and control of nature.

Hephaestus: god of artisans, blacksmiths, carpenters, craftsmen, fire, metallurgy, metalworking, sculpture, and volcanos. In Greek mythology, Hephaestus was either the son of Zeus and Hera or he was Hera's parthenogenous child. He was cast off Mount Olympus by his mother Hera because of his lameness, the result of a congenital impairment; or in another account, by Zeus for protecting Hera from his advances (in which case his lameness would have been the result of his fall rather than the reason for it).

Aphrodite: goddess of love, lust, beauty, pleasure, passion, procreation, desire, sex, fertility, prosperity, and victory. Florence

Aphrodite is usually said to have been born near her chief center of worship, Paphos, on the island of Cyprus, which is why she is sometimes called "Cyprian", especially in the poetic works of Sappho. The Sanctuary of Aphrodite Paphia, marking her birthplace, was a place of pilgrimage in the ancient world for centuries.

Hermes: god of boundaries, roads, travelers, thieves athletes, shephards, commerce, speed, cunning, wit, and messages. Hermes was considered the messenger of the Olympic gods. According to legend, he was the son of Zeus, king of Mount Olympus, and Maia, a nymph. As time went on, he was also associated with luck, shepherds, athletes, thieves, and merchants.

Dionysus: god of wine making, orchards and fruit, fertility, festivity insanity, tuition insanity, religious ecstacy, and theatre. The son of an immortal god and a mortal princess, Dionysus’ role forged a crucial link between humanity and the divine, serving as a force of cyclical, unbridled nature who drew men and women out of themselves through intoxication. In that sense, Dionysus, a genial but wild and dangerously ravishing intermediary, represents one of the enduring mysteries and paradoxes of life.

[cynthiav06]

What makes Klayley different from other series ships for you?

I am assuming you mean other ships in the orignals by that.

It's the really simple case that's not simple at all. It's the underlying passion between them that just won't go away no matter who they take as a lover. The burning anger, loathing, care, loyalty, and the inexplicably undying connection that keeps them tethered to each other always and forever, come hell or highwater.

Mikael almost killed me and the baby, but i can't help but be more worried about how Klaus suffered all these years, I need to comfort him.

The witches are murdering me and the baby. Forget Elijah , I need Klaus here.

The witches stole baby hope? Not important right now, Hayley's dead, and I need a moment or several to take it all in.

I don't really love Jackson, but Klaus needs me to marry him, so I will.

I have to deal with my newly risen from dead mother and father, but whether Hayley's new husband is treating her right or not is more important.

Hayley tried to run from me, and I am extremely furious, but I can't bear to kill her or physically hurt her.

I will hate Klaus forever, but I can't really hate him at all.

My siblings are in trouble and may need my immediate help, but the road trip with Hayley is the best fun I have had in centuries, and I love it too much to stop now.

I am the strongest and the proudest being on earth. I kneel to no one, especially not to scum like Lucien, but he has Hayley, and I would never let her die. She means too much to me. I have to kneel to save her, no problem, I will do it a thousand times if it's to save her.

I love my Pack a lot, but the Mikaelsons are dying, Klaus is dying, so my pack can go to hell. I will save him and the Mikaelsons even if I die .

I have to let go of my dignity as a wolf and kill, lie, massacre all to save Klaus and Mikaelson family. And I used to have a problem with that, but it's for Klaus, I can't watch him suffer, so i will do it gladly.

Klaus is going around the world, massacring everything in sight and trying to cut contact, but I will never give up on him.

Being in New Orleans near hope will bring forth Apocalyspe that might kill hope, but Hayley's missing, so all else be damned.

I am being killed, and Klaus is being attacked by Elijah. He's hurt, Hope's hurt, so I am going to kill Greta and sacrifice myself for them because Klaus and Hope are my family Elijah be damned.

My daughter is dying and meets me in the afterlife, but the second I hear Klaus's voice, I know all will be alright.

My brother, my companion, my only confidant who I would go insane without is dead to me for good because he killed Hayley, and there's no greater offense than that.

I am in hell. My heart feels empty. Hayley is dead. I can sacrifice Elijah to save hope and kill the hollow, but I vowed to Hayley that I would do anything to save our daughter so I will sacrifice myself. [Also because I can't live without my little wolf]

So yeah, it's you know, soul shattering stuff like this that keeps me hooked to Klayley. Nothing huge. This and all the other essays I wrote should be plenty enough evidence as to why. (Sorry for the late)

And here's the thing anyone who watched the Orignals and isn't blind should be shipping them intensely, too.