#feel free to reply w/ whomever!!

[caitified]

can i get a nika fic where they’re teammates pining for each other with angst, like nika flirting and talking to another girl bc she thinks reader doesn’t like her like that and reader being hurt about it ?? thank you 🙏🙏

unspoken

nika muhl x reader

warnings: a little bit of angst ( i just made up a random player bc i didn’t know who to pick )

the gym was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor and the rhythmic thud of basketballs bouncing. it was a typical practice day for the team, but for you, everything felt different.

nika, your teammate, had been making your heart race for months now. her laughter echoed in your ears, her playful teasing sending butterflies swirling in your stomach. but as the season progressed, the chemistry you felt between you seemed to hang in the air, unacknowledged.

today, however, something felt off. as you took a break from drills, you caught sight of nika across the gym. she was laughing, leaning in close to a new girl on the team, and it struck you like a punch to the gut. the way nika smiled, the way her eyes sparkled—it was the kind of look she reserved for you, or so you thought.

you tried to shake off the gnawing jealousy, reminding yourself that nika was free to flirt with whomever she pleased. still, it stung. she didn’t know how you felt about her, and that realization only fueled your insecurities. did she really think you didn’t like her like that?

“hey, earth to [y/n],” paige called, waving a hand in front of your face. “you good?”

“yeah, just… watching practice,” you replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

paige followed your gaze, and her expression shifted to one of concern. “you should talk to her, you know. if you like her, just tell her.”

“it’s not that easy,” you murmured, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “she’s… she’s so perfect. what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

paige rolled her eyes playfully. “or what if she’s flirting with that girl because she thinks you’re not interested? you won’t know unless you say something.”

the idea of confessing your feelings sent your stomach into a frenzy. what if it ruined your friendship? what if it made things awkward? just as you were about to respond, nika walked over, her cheeks slightly flushed, a playful grin on her face.

“hey, superstar!” she called, tossing a basketball to you. “you ready to show off those skills?”

“always,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the flutter of nerves in your chest.

as you practiced, you could feel nika’s eyes on you, her laughter ringing in your ears like a melody. but the moment you glanced over and saw her chatting with the other girl again, the knot in your stomach tightened. you focused on your shots, each miss feeling like a reflection of your own inadequacy.

🪽

after practice, as everyone began to disperse, nika approached you, a teasing smile on her lips. “you were looking good out there today. i think you’ve got a shot at being the star of the team.”

“thanks,” you replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm. but it was hard to ignore the way she was still beaming at the other girl, her attention divided.

“i was just talking to jessica,” nika said casually, as if sensing the tension hanging between you. “she’s pretty cool.”

you felt a pang of hurt at her words, unable to hide the shift in your expression. “right. cool.”

“you’re not jealous, are you?” nika teased, leaning in closer, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

“no, of course not,” you lied, looking away. “you can talk to whoever you want.”

“come on,” she said, her voice dropping to a softer tone. “you know i only flirt for fun.”

the words hung in the air, and you couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and sadness. “maybe it doesn’t feel that way to me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

nika’s expression shifted, a hint of confusion crossing her face. “what do you mean?”

“it’s just… i guess i thought we had something special. but maybe i was wrong,” you confessed, your heart racing as you took a step back, feeling vulnerable.

the silence between you felt deafening. nika’s brow furrowed, her playful demeanor fading away. “you thought that? [y/n], i thought you didn’t like me like that. i didn’t want to overstep.”

“why would you think that?” you asked, hurt creeping into your voice. “i’ve been pining after you for weeks.”

“i thought you were just being friendly,” nika replied, taking a step closer, her expression earnest. “i didn’t want to make things weird between us. i really like you.”

your heart raced at her confession, but the memories of watching her flirt with the other girl still stung. “then why flirt with her?” you questioned, your tone sharper than intended.

“because i didn’t know how you felt!” she shot back, frustration evident in her eyes. “i didn’t want to assume anything, and i thought if you wanted me, you’d make a move.”

the tension crackled in the air, the misunderstandings between you both finally laid out. you took a deep breath, the ache in your heart softening slightly as you looked into her eyes. “so… you really do like me?”

“more than anything,” she said softly, her gaze steady. “i just didn’t want to scare you away.”

a small smile broke through your pain, hope flickering in your chest. “maybe we should stop dancing around this, then.”

“i’d like that,” nika replied, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. “can i…?”

you nodded, heart pounding as she closed the distance, her hands gently cupping your face. the kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration of the feelings that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. when you finally pulled away, the world around you felt brighter, the weight of unspoken words lifted.

“so, no more flirting with other girls?” you teased lightly, a smile spreading across your face.

nika laughed, her eyes sparkling. “only if it’s not with you.”

“deal,” you replied, warmth flooding your chest.

i hope this is what you were thinking! as always, thanks for reading. requests are open

[multifanhoe99]

Kinktober Day 10- Public Sex

I am basing this one off a true story please don't do this it's so risky and unsanitary.

Paring: San x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sex in a port-a-potty, FWB, degradation (calls reader a slut), he likes the reader but doesn't know how to tell her so he's kinda mean cause she likes his bad boy act.

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

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

You wondered how it was exactly that you found yourself in this position. Never in a million years did you think that resident bad boy Choi San would even glance in your direction much less have you bent over for him on the regular. The truth is though that San is about as close to a real bad boy as a puppy is. His cool demeanor and sharp gaze always seemed to convince people that he wasn't up to any good but to those who knew him best he was a big softie. He lived to cuddle and was a real romantic and he truthfully had the biggest crush on you.

You were so sweet and beautiful and always seemed to make whomever you were talking to smile. He's been playing into the bad boy act for so long now though that he has no idea how to ask you out properly or even get your to see the real him. His best friend Wooyoung tells him that he just needs to do it but is he's being honest he's scared. That's what got him in this mess in the first place. He was finally going to ask you out. He was preparing himself all week but when the time finally came he chickened out. Then, he saw you at a party. He decided he was going to tell you then, after plenty of liquid courage. Maybe, he had a little too much because then next thing he knew was that he came up to dance behind you and instead of asking you or properly like he planned he ended up saying, "What is a pretty little thing like yourself doing all alone?"

"Um, well I w-was just looking for my roommate. She's here somewhere," you stuttered feeling hot with San being this close to you. You had no idea why he was choosing to talk to you but you couldn't deny that it made you feel good to have this resident bad boy all over you for the moment.

"Forget her, let me be your roommate tonight yeah? I'll make you feel so good you'll be begging me like a desperate slut by the end," yeah he definitely had to much. Be want supposed to say any of that but his mouth was moving faster than his brain. That is how you both ended up in your friends with benefits relationship. He would come over and fuck your brains out, saying the nastiest things to you and you loved it. You assumed that was all it was but to him, he used it as a twisted chance to get to know your and spend time with you. Unbeknownst to you that is why he so often chose to stay at your place even though he said it was just because he was to tired to go back to his dorm.

One day he invited you to go to a concert with him. He said he got the tickets for free from a buddy but he had actually bought them and planned on taking you because you're favorite band was headlining. You played it off very cool but on the inside you were screaming you were going to see your favorite band and with none other than Choi San. You couldn't get your hopes up to much though this was definitely not a date even though it did kind of feel like one.

Soon it was the day of the concert and right on time at 4:30 San was at your dorm ready to pick you up. You got there early even though you had seats but you didn't want to miss any of the openers either. Everything was going well and you were having a great time. You and San jammed out to the music and you were dancing and having fun.

"Hey," you said after a while, "I'll be right back I am going to get another drink."

"Wait," he replied also getting up, "I will go with you there are so many people I don't want you getting hurt." You thought it was strange that he would care but you couldn't think on it too much or you would stay deluding yourself into thinking he actually liked you. In his mind it was now or never. He had to confess to you before things for any further and his chances are ruined. He wasn't exactly thinking straight he just needed to get you somewhere he felt he could talk to you without so much distraction. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into the closest room he could find and that just so happened to be the wheelchair accessible port-a-potty. It was not his best option but it'd do for now. What he didn't expect was to feel you so close and he couldn't help himself. He kissed you deeply and passionately. It had you morning into his mouth.

He pulled away saying, "I am sorry I just couldn't wait anymore."

"Neither can I," you replied reaching to palm at his cock above his pants.

"God, you are just a desperate slut for my cock huh? Can't get enough that you're willing to let me fuck you right here and now," he said while turning you around so he could grind his bulge against your ass. None of this was part of the plan but you seemed to be enjoying yourself there for her just went with it loving the feeling of your body against his. Luckily for you both you decided to wear a sundress with no panties. You knew how much that drive him insane.

He lifted your dress bunching it together at your lower back. There you were bent over holding on to a guard rail in a port-a-potty with no panties and dripping wet just for San. That was it for him, the congestion could wait he needed to be balls deep in your beautiful pussy right now. He wasted no time using his pants and pulling both them and his underwear down to his mid thigh letting his cock spring free. He guided his tip to your entrance tubing his tip up and down your wet folds. Them, he started to push in.

"Fuuuuck you're always so right for me. I love fucking your pretty little pussy. That's it take it like my good little slut," he said. Officially lost in the high of pleasure he just said whatever he thought. He began to move faster slamming his hips into yours. One of his hands on the same guardrail you were holding on to the other covering your mouth muffling your sweet sons so you don't get caught. You were surprised you didn't get cause already though with the way the whole thing seemed to be shaking. Eventually he moved his other hand from the rail to snake around your body and start rubbing your clit. Your mouth was still covered but you still screamed that you were gonna cum and hopefully he'd know your were close. Which he did, he could feel it.

"You gonna cum for me little slut huh? You gonna cum all over my cock? That's it, cum for me go ahead," he encouraged. The feeling of his cock and his hand and then the words he spoke had you coming undone. He was not far behind and when he was just about to cum he pulled out of your letting it all drip onto the floor. When all was said and done and you were both satisfied and clean, at least as clean as you could get, he finally spoke the words he's been waiting ages to say.

"Y/N, I really like you and I have for a while and I'm not good with my words really but I want to ask you out on a real date. Honestly I've been wanting to do that for a long time. I want to make you mine for real."

You were too stunned to speak you thought it was a joke but he seemed so sincere. You decided to agree under some conditions.

"Okay," you began, " you can take me out on a real date. I really like your top but you should know that if I get any sense that you're playing me at all I'm done and this whole thing will be over. I won't let myself get heartbroken like that."

"You don't have to worry about that," he said, "I don't even plan on letting you go now." You two say back in your seats and enjoyed the rest of the concert. It was amazing and you couldn't wait to see where this will go.

A/N: Yes, this situation was a thing. No, I will not be doing that ever again. Highschool was a wild time and that is all I will say. Anyway once again don't have sex in a port-a-potty it is not great but it did give me the inspiration for this so at least it was good for one thing. Asks are still open and I am ready to get writing.

[gvthamknight]

WELCOME TO HORRORWOOD. . .

Rules for writing with me.

These are pretty simple to follow and I don't ask much. 

01. I do not write with anyone who isn't 18 or older. 21 or older for smut. I am not comfortable writing with minors. 

02. My triggers include alcohol, drug, and animal abuse. I will not tolerate sexual abuse of ANY kind. Please let me know your triggers before we write. 

03. I am not going to harp on you about replying. We are busy adults with lives outside of this website. I understand that it will take a few days, even a week to be able to reply. If it will be longer, be let me know in advance if possible. I will return the same courtesy to you. 

04. I do not roleplay incest, furry, extreme gore, or anything related. 

05. If you do not feel comfortable/interested in our roleplay, please let me know. I want my partners to enjoy themselves while writing! Roleplay is supposed to be an escape, not a prison. I will do them same for you.

06. I only roleplay on Discord. I can make exceptions for using Tumblr messages or posts, but I am most comfortable and familiar with Discord servers. 

07. Plotting is a must! This will be in a different chat room of our server. I will not continue our conversation if plotting is to be skipped. Speaking of plotting, I will also not write a heavy based smut roleplay. Heavy amounts of angst (w/ exceptions) and smut are not allowed. I like my roleplays to be diverse and have different amounts of angst, fluff, smut, etc. 

08. Feel free to reach out to me out of character. I love forming friendships with my writing partners. Especially if you have a problem, need someone to talk too, or are simply bored! My messages will always be open to you.

09. Respect is pretty self-explanatory. I will not tolerate transphobia, hate speech, racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. Our roleplay will be deleted, you will be banned and blocked. 

10. Probably one of the more important ones, do not god-mode. For the love of everything, please do not be one of these writers. Yes, you may occasionally control my muse if you have my permission beforehand. Otherwise, no. 

11. I double up! I prefer OCxCC, CCXCC, OCXOC. Most of the time, I will use an OC and write your preferred love interest. I write mainly female OC's, but I can write whomever you want for your side of the roleplay. I am most comfortable with MXF, but willing to do for MXM or FXF for your side.

[ultalliance]

Status: Low Activity (Sparking Zero!)

Welcome to the ultalliance, ran by The Archfey (30s, any w/ fem terms). This is a comic-based multifandom multimuse held together by plot convenience! This is a temped pin while we get things sorted over here, but I can't wait to get writing with you all!

IMPORTANT (includes temp. muse list) - INBOX STARTERS - ASK MEMES - OPENS

Below is where you'll find my rules!

l. This blog is entirely unaffiliated with the fandom, I don't participate in anything from any of the fandoms outside of this blog.

ll. This blog is private. Private means that this blog is mutuals-only! This shouldn't scare you off from following me, as I'm not too selective with who I follow back under most circumstances. However, if I don't follow back, please don't take it personally, alright? It's for my own comfort if I don't follow back, or perhaps even block. Everyone is allowed to decide what they're comfortable with, so please extend that hospitality back to me, a'ight?

lll. I block personals/non-rp blogs unless they're clearly labeled to have an rp blog attached to it, or if it's a personal of.. well, someone I rp with. So if you're a personal without rping ties, know that I shall explode you with my eldritch powers.

lV. I am more than willing to write crossovers, given the circumstance, along with eager to write with any OCs people may have. Feel free to throw whomever you wish my way within reason.

V. I don't mind reblog length, as it's entirely understandable that one's writing ebbs and flows with a thread. you are under no obligation to match my length should i write too lengthily nor do you have to "trim the fat".

Vl. reblog karma also isn't something i mind. i understand wanting to use an inbox meme or starter but not having any idea what to send yourself. all i ask of you is to reblog from the source when applicable or at the very least not ME.

Vll. i do my absolute best to not engage in drama. i block when i need to block, nor do i soft-block. unless someone has done something truly illegal, i will abstain from any call-outs. similarly, please do not come into my inbox unless i am interacting with someone Notably Corrupt. i am not aware of every name and url under the sun. you can block and blacklist tags if you simply do not like someone, as can I.

Vlll. on that note, i do not soft-block, as i said. if i am ever unfollowed or vice-versa, simply assume it is of human or technological error. please contact me and allow sufficient time for me to reply/see your message if this occurs. unless you are blocked, it was some form of accident.

lX. Besides those, the standard roleplay etiquette applies (godmodding, trim your posts, etc.) here on. I do no have any triggers that should come up, but kindly let me know if i missed one of yours. it was surely a mishap.

[subliminalbo]

10 Years of Subliminalbo

Santiago's Story Part 1 and 2 Annotated [ 1 ]

Originally Published December 1st, 2013 (Part 1) and February 10th, 2014 (Part 2)

Santiago regretted giving Candice up to Victoria's Secret [ 2 ], and no matter how much she wanted to take it back, to free Candice from their control, she knew what would happen to her [ 3 ]. One way or another someone was going to be a slave, and as guilty as it made her feel, Santiago didn't want to be that person. She would reinforce her decision. She told herself that Candice had been a slave before, and she was so happy as that man's pet. Santiago could probably live with that, but it was her new job that really hammered in the guilt. She felt dirty every day that she would walk into work, ride up in the elevator, and approach her office door with those words stenciled on the window: Santiago Cruz, Junior Editor [ 4 ]. Santiago had only been give [ 5 ] this job because of the strings Victoria's Secret was able to pull. She wondered who Victoria's Secret had enslaved for the paper's editor to get her the job, and that was just too much to think about [ 6 ].

At night, Santiago would have nightmares [ 7 ]. She dreamed that she was mindless and enslaved by Candice who would ask her how she felt, and Santiago would reply, "Good." And when Candice would ask her why, Santiago would say, "Because this is what I deserve." "That's right, Santiago. You betrayed me, and now you're a mindless slut." [ 8 ] "Please command me, Candice," Santiago begs [ 9 ]. "I live to serve you. It is my only wish in life." "I want you to fuck, me, Santiago. Fuck me." [ 10 ]

Santiago would wake up here screaming, tangled in her blankets. "Are you okay?" Her boyfriend asked, sitting up in bed with her [ 11 ]. "Yeah... I'm fine... I'm fine. Just a bad dream is all," she assured him. "You've been having a lot of those, babe." "It's nothing, Scott. Don't worry about it."

It didn't take Santiago long in her new job to realize that she couldn't stay [ 12 ]. She had to do something. Everywhere she looked she saw young, dazed girls walking the streets, and she knew what they were wearing [ 13 ]. She knew that they were enslaved by the company, just like Candice. Poor Candice. The final straw came when Santiago received a call at work. "Hello, Santiago. This is Ed, remember me?" "Yes... Why are you calling me on this line?" Santiago tried to keep her voice down so no one would hear. "I own the paper, Santiago. I can call whomever I please." [ 14 ] Santiago didn't know that she'd been working for her enemy [ 15 ], but that was the least of her worries right now. "What do you want?" "We want an endorsement from a big time newspaper. Some kind of in depth write up on Obedience by Victoria, and we think you should write it." "You own the paper, just get one of your lackeys to write it for you." "No, Santiago. We want you. You have to write this article." "I'll do no such thing!" Santiago protested. [ 16 ] "Have you forgotten how you got this job, Santiago? I was kind enough to spare you. To give you a real job, I doubled your income." "I don't need it, Ed, okay? I quit." [ 17 ] There was a pause on Ed's end of the line before he spoke again, "Well that's really unfortunate, Santiago." Santiago slammed her phone down and stormed out of her office. She shared an elevator down with a coworker who nodded awkwardly to her. There was a bit of relief in Santiago's heart as she reached the lower floors. Working here had been hell, and now she could finally get all of this off her back. And then she felt the man behind her, and before Santiago could react, his arms were around her [ 18 ]. "No!" she screamed, trying to throw him off, but the man had already gotten the cloth to her mouth. Santiago slammed the man back into the elevator wall, but his grasp only tightened on her. She could feel herself growing weaker, and then she couldn't move anymore, and she was slipping down, and he was holding her up, and then everything was black [ 19 ].

Santiago came home that night with a blank smile on her face. It was late, her boyfriend was waiting up for her with that nervous sort of anticipation people have when they’re waiting for the test results. Outside of work, Santiago wasn’t very social, and it certainly wasn’t like her to stay out past midnight [ 20 ]. Even if she had been working on a story, she always called Scott to tell him, but he hadn’t been able to get a hold of her all night. Scott was almost certain something awful had happened, like an accident or a terrorist attack.

In hindsight, that was probably a rash conclusion to jump to [ 21 ].

“Oh, Santiago!” Scott sighed, jumping up from the couch. “Babe, where’ve you been? I was so worried.” [ 22 ] “I’m sorry, Scott. It’s been a busy night.” Santiago stood in the doorway smiling. Scott reached out and placed his hand on his girlfriend’s cheek [ 23 ]. “You didn’t answer your phone and I called the office and they said you weren’t there and…” “Scott,” Santiago cut him off. Her voice was calm and soft, a stark contrast to her boyfriend’s panic. “It’s okay, Scott. I’m okay. It was a busy night. I was out of the office and I forgot to call. Have a seat on the couch.” She said with little attempt to segue. “I have something for you.”

As Scott returned to the couch, looking his girlfriend over in nervous anticipation [ 24 ], Santiago took off her coat and dropped it down next to him. After slipping out of her shoes, she bent down on her knees in front of Scott. With a playful smile, she began unbuttoning his pants. “Santiago, what are you doing?” “I’m going to suck your cock, dummy,” she giggled. “What else would I be doing down here?” Scott squirmed a little as Santiago worked to pull his underwear down. “You don’t like that,” he said, extremely hesitant of his girlfriend’s new behavior [ 25 ]. “But you do,” she smiled. “And look at this, Little Scott’s waking up.” “Please don’t call my penis Little Scott,” “I guess he’s Big Scott now, huh?” [ 26 ]

“Baby, you don’t, ah, you don’t have to, ah, do this,” Scott protested, but Santiago didn’t respond. She was deep in the zone as she worked her mouth up and down Scott’s shaft. She didn’t like giving blowjobs and was shit at them anyway, but even a bad blowjob still felt good [ 27 ]. After he came, Santiago looked up at him with glassy eyes, smiled, then swallowed [ 28 ].

“You can’t fight it, Miss Cruz. No one can fight it. Everyone succumbs.” “Can’t fight it…” Santiago slurred. “Can’t fight it…”

Four hours earlier, the young reporter was waking on a leather couch, and though she was semi-lucid, a pounding headache kept her immobile.

“Welcome back, Miss Cruz,” As Santiago’s eyes focused, she recognized the face of Ed, the man who had started all of this by turning Candice Swanepoel into his personal pet. He was staring down at her with this accomplished smile. The sight of him made Santiago jump. She swung an arm at him, but the gesture was far too weak, and Ed was able to restrain her with little effort. “Now, now,” he said. “Don’t worry, Santiago, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Where… Where am I?” she asked, trying to look around. Ed didn’t have to answer her, because Santiago was already familiar with her own office. “Still at the paper,” Ed smiled. “You took a spill in the elevator and my friend Kenny [ 29 ] here,” Ed nodded his head to a man standing behind his shoulder, “was kind enough to bring you back here.”

Santiago recognized the man behind Ed as the same one who had attacked her in the elevator [ 30 ]. Again, she tried to sit up. “That’s not…” she started, but was finding speech to be an awful big challenge. “That’s not what… He…” “Helped you,” Ed finished for her with a smile. “Isn’t that right, Kenny?” “Yeah,” Kenny nodded. “That’s how I remember it.” “But,” Santiago looked at the two men confused. “That’s not… How I remember…” “Shhh…” Ed ran his fingers over Santiago’s stomach, lightly touching her soft skin. It was the first time that Santiago realized she was in her underwear. A pair of black lingerie—it wasn’t even hers.

Santiago knew exactly what was going on. She’d been abducted, and now they’d fitted her with Obedience by Victoria. She wanted to struggle, but Ed’s massage was so comfortable. And even though Santiago knew she was being manipulated, the lingerie was so comfortable. She let out a deep sigh.

“Does that feel good?” “No,” she gasped, still defiant even as the lingerie worked its control over her mind [ 31 ]. “D-don’t you fucking touch me... Y-you… Shit…” “Dumb bitch,” Kenny growled, pulling for the gun on his belt [ 32 ]. “Hey,” Ed held his hand up. “That’s enough, Kenny.” “She disrespected you, sir.” “So you’re going to shoot her? In her office?” “She’s a disrespectful little bitch.” [ 33 ] “Bitches learn,” Ed smiled [ 34 ].

Santiago’s head was spinning as she tried to fight the control. Everything Ed said made so much sense to her though. Even though she remembered being attacked in the elevator, she just believed that she’d “taken a spill.” She believed it because Ed had told her. This feeling scared Santiago, but it also excited her. She was losing her mind and it felt incredible. [ 35 ]

“Do you know why my lingerie is so popular, Santiago? It’s because obedience is freedom. Do you know how shitty life is when you’re left to make your own decisions?” “It’s… It’s not right…” Santiago was being hit with powerful waves of pleasure now, as she started convulsing on the couch. “You… You can’t do this… To… People…” “Look at you. Think about your life, the decisions you’ve made. How miserable it made you to trade Candice to get where you are now, to get to this office. Have you been happy?” “Nooo…” she sighed. “But imagine someone had control of you, someone was making the hard decisions for you. Completely unaccountable for your actions. Doesn’t that sound great?” [ 36 ] “It… N-no… It...” “Just say it, Santiago. Admit that you’re not happy.” “I’m not but… I…” “Now, give in to Obedience. Let go, and let the pleasure take over.” “I… I can’t… I can… I can fight… I can… Fi…gh…” [ 37 ]

“Santiago? Santiago? Can you hear me?” Ed snapped his fingers. The woman had passed out. “I think you broke her, boss,” Kenny laughed [ 38 ].

Slowly, Santiago’s eyes flitted open as she came back to life. She looked around the room stunned, like this were [ 39 ] the first time she was seeing the world. “She’s back,” Ed smiled. “Master?” Santiago asked. “I’ve got to admit, boss, this shit gets me really hot.” Kenny said. “Yeah, well keep your pants on, Kenny,” Ed rolled his eyes. “Alright, Santiago. I want you to listen to me, okay?” “Yes,” “I am your master, you answer to me.” “Yes, Master,” “You are a loyal employee of Victoria’s Secret [ 40 ]. You will never go against my company again,” “No, Master,” “And you will write anything I ask.” “Yes, Master.”

Ed stood up from his chair. “Good. Have you got a boyfriend, Santiago?” “Yes, Master. His name is Scott.” “How is your sex life?” “We have sex every few weeks,” she replied, monotone. “Ooh, must be hard on the relationship. I want you to go home and treat Scott to a blowjob, okay? Then feel free to do whatever else you want with him. I want you to live your life, Santiago. Make Scott happy.” [ 41 ] “Yes, Master.”

“What the fuck was all that?” Kenny asked after Ed had sent Santiago home. “What do you mean?” “The blowjob and making her boyfriend happy and all that.” “A happy boyfriend is an ignorant boyfriend. I can’t have him snooping around asking questions. It was hard enough getting Santiago out of the way.” “You really missed an opportunity there, boss,” Kenny shook his head. “I mean, could’ve kept her around longer and gotten us something too. What’s the point of doing all of this if we’re not getting any action?”

Ed laughed. “I’m a sociopath, Kenny. Not a rapist. I want money, not to fuck a girl’s life up.” [ 42 ]

“Oh, Scott! Oh fuck!” Santiago cried as she rode her boyfriend. “Fuck me, Scott! Oh god, fuck me with your big dick!” [ 43 ] “Uh,” Scott gasped, looking up at his girlfriend. “I know you’re trying to be sexy babe, but that’s not really doing it for me.” [ 44 ] Santiago pressed Scott’s hands against her breasts, “Just shut up and fuck me, I’m so fucking horny.” “Jesus, what’s gotten into you tonight? It’s like we’re in college again.” [ 45 ] “I just love you so much,” Santiago smiled. “Now fuck me, goddammit." [ 46 ]

[ 1 ]. Mindless Supermodel and Santiago's Story make up a series called Obedience By Fleur today. The original Santiago's Story was a kind of soft pilot to writing original characters, shifting the focus from Candice Swanepoel to reporter Santiago Cruz. It wasn't the most graceful transition, creating this world where Victoria's Secret is, inexplicably, a dominant political force responsible for the mass brainwashing of consumers. Obedience By Victoria would come up from time to time in my stories, but I mostly got around the absurdity of the plot by mentioning Victoria's Secret as little as possible.

[ 2 ]. This is already so stupid.

[ 3 ]. I should probably note that there's a a chapter in between Mindless Supermodel on Tour and Santiago's Story Part 1 in which Candice seeks Santiago's help to expose Victoria's Secret, only for Santiago to betray her in exchange for a new job and not being brainwashed. I made fun of that chapter here.

[ 4 ]. I'll admit I don't know the first thing about journalistic hierarchies but if I had to guess, folks with titles like "junior editor" don't have their own offices.

[ 5 ]. I can't remember if I'm spellchecking these for the anniversary or not. If I was I'm not anymore. Let's all make fun of nineteen year old Bo's mistakes.

[ 6 ]. I would kind of pack my early stuff with these little references to offscreen mind control just to scratch the itch. This first part didn't actually have any mind control in it, so I had to fit it in somewhere.

[ 7 ]. As opposed to day, when she would have daymares.

[ 8 ]. Not sure why this paragraph flows like a Rorschach journal. I really hate how much I breezed through dialogue in this early stories.

[ 9 ]. Jumping between tenses is the biggest sign of an unseasoned writer. I've actually always been pretty good at stuff like tenses and subject-verb agreement, but you can tell that I just never even tried to proofread this.

[ 10 ]. Candice "Two Times," who got that nickname because she would say everything twice like, "I want you to fuck me fuck me."

[ 11 ]. The biggest difference between the brown stuff and the new stuff is that the brown stuff is just rushed. This sequence would easily be like seven hundred words if I wrote it today, instead you get Santiago waking up screaming and her boyfriend checking on her all in like two sentences. Also, more tense issues here.

[ 12 ]. The biggest issue I've always had with Santiago's Story is how quickly we go from Santiago making a deal with Ed to going back on it. Like, technically it's the right choice for the character but we don't get much of her internal struggle. Just a couple sentences explaining to the reader that she feels real bad. This was a big focus in the rewrite, where we see how Santiago's guilt manifests in various forms of self-medication.

[ 13 ]. Oh look, more random mind control to justify this being mind control smut. I don't think I can call this Subliminalbo Cliche #3 because I don't do it so much anymore, but since this is when I was writing as thedude11111, we'll call it thedude11111 Cliche #1.

[ 14 ]. This is before I really knew who Ed was and the full scope of his power. These days he's kind of just a marketing guru who's cheating with mind control technology but back then he was like...the president or something?

[ 15 ]. What lol

[ 16 ]. I don't fully know how to describe this critique, but this exchange reads like the most aggressively 2013 Deviantart hypnomanip situation you could imagine. It's like Kaa on the set of Jennifer Lawrence's new tropical movie shoot bad. As much as I'm making fun of myself, everything kind of read like this over there at the time.

[ 17 ]. Back then the stories were less about the characters and more about getting to the mind control. I don't want to pretend that I'm out here writing literary fiction or anything, but I've come to realize that knowing these characters and understanding their motivations is key to a really good mind control payoff later. Here I just make Santiago do the absolute dumbest thing because I don't really care about her beyond the outcome of this single story.

[ 18 ]. What? lol Where did this guy come from?

[ 19 ]. This is the first and I think only use of chloroform in one of my stories. Don't love it.

[ 20 ]. Kind of funny how I brush over Santiago's guilt in the first part of this story just to write this giant paragraph of her spiraling.

[ 21 ]. The tone was weird in these early stories. You can see my personality poking through in these stupid little goofs but it's really not the story for this.

[ 22 ]. Guy who's never been in an adult relationship tries to write adult relationship dialogue.

[ 23 ]. Guy who's never been in an adult relationship tries to write adult relationship gestures.

[ 24 ]. I really don't know why Scott has the personality of Courage the Cowardly Dog. Moving on.

[ 25 ]. lol

[ 26 ]. lolol

[ 27 ]. Debatable

[ 28 ]. So, not surprising that an eighteen year old virgin writes awful sex. I do kind of like the structure choice here to jump to Santiago completely brainwashed before transitioning back. It's playing with one of my favorite mind control tropes which is offscreen, leave it up to the audience's imagination as to what happened brainwashing.

[ 29 ]. Genuinely baffled at why I picked the name Kenny for this particular character.

[ 30 ]. Well, yeah.

[ 31 ]. I didn't get into the specifics of Obedience by Victoria until I'd cut Victoria's Secret out of these stories and started calling it Obedience by Fleur, but the mechanism inside the underwear that brainwashes people gets more complicated every time I write about it. Check out Lacey's Story for more on that.

[ 32 ]. Jesus Christ.

[ 33 ]. Why is Kenny so loyal to Ed? Who the fuck is Ed?

[ 34 ]. I hate this story lol

[ 35 ]. Lowkey kind of like this line at the end up a really sloppy paragraph, but there's so little explanation of how she's falling under his control that this all feels like wasted space to me.

[ 36 ]. This is a core theme that I still use today. Life is full of so many shitty choices that when presented with the opportunity to have absolutely no choices for yourself, people are inclined to take it. There's something here about Santiago being so consumed by guilt for what she did to Candice that it makes enslaving her easier, but I'm not smart enough here to really explore that idea.

[ 37 ]. I really hate the stuttering. Just awful to read.

[ 38 ]. Love how I wrote this guy like one of the weasels from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

[ 39 ]. Was

[ 40 ]. While pretty much every hypno caption writer on Deviantart has an evil mind controlling organization at the center of their stories, I went with Victoria's Secret. Never stops being funny.

[ 41 ]. This is literally a flimsy way to work it back to the opening blowjob scene.

[ 42 ]. This might be the worst line I've ever written. At the time I thought it was a fresh inversion of your expectations for a hypno caption. It's an early example of my struggle to find a justification for a mind control story that isn't just "hot babes fuck while mind controlled." I've since learned that you can write mind control smut without sex but, I didn't get that back then. I kind of awkwardly force the blowjob stuff in here to make it sexy. Mind control alone is sexy, Bo!

[ 43 ]. Love the transition into the worst sex scene you've ever read.

[ 44 ]. Men are so bad at dirty talk.

[ 45 ]. Scott is so fucking miserable in this relationship lmao

[ 46 ]. Probably not the best way to close this one out. You can really tell that I was over my typical word count (for the time) and just wanted it to be over.

Verdict: An embarrassingly foundational piece of personal history that lays the groundwork for Romero and Carpenter State University. I basically spent the next seven years running from a lot of the ideas established in Santiago's Story. Obedience by Victoria plays an important role in the next series, Lacey's Story, which is also the first appearance of Carpenter State University. After that Victoria's Secret just kind of existed in the universe I was building as this massively evil corporation that all women are passively enslaved by. It was around 2018 that I finally started writing Victoria's Secret out of these stories through rewrites. You can read what I've written of the updated series here on my tumblr.

Hotness: 1 Context: 2 Creativity: 1 Final Score: 1.33

[jigsawfcrged]

just a heads up that i do tag spicy memes, graphics & ic posts & what not as 'lemons tw' if you need to blacklist something for them. on that note i'm going to go ahead and reblog some zesty memes. you're always free to send in any and all that you want. if i'm not feeling the pairing or what not i'll let you know but i'm pretty much down for trying out chemistry w/ whomever. always open to headcanon prompts and you can always drop ideas in my inbox or dms if you want. i'm sometimes slow to reply but i will eventually get back to you when i have the brain / energy.

[sadtm]

@fullofhcart closed starter from orla !! 

         “SORRY - what do y’mean y’ ‘aven’t ‘ad CUPCAKE PANCAKES??”

[vliantsarchive]

@lovemczes, loosely based on x !!

      ‘ i can’t believe that after all this time you STILL don’t know how to make a decent cup of hot chocolate. i mean, i can’t believe that you made me d r i n k this — how will you make this up to me ?? how will you make up making me practically drink a vial of poison ?? ’

[1ndulgences]

your only knight

yandere! knights × gn! reader

warnings: stalking, obsessive behavior, some light unsanitary mentions, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, threats of light harm towards the reader

notes: my first original post... i do hope you'll all enjoy it! i was inspired by @yandere-daze and their works to begin my blog, so i dedicate this post to them as a thank you–! i hope you all enjoy...

oh, dear tsukasa... he only wants the best for his darling. you mean so much to him! how can he make sure you won't suddenly disappear? that you'll stay with him always?

tsukasa loves to bring you snacks. the way to one's heart is through the stomach, isn't it? and look how happy you get whenever he asks you to try a new sweet with him... besides, you seem to eat too fast to indulge yourself, or you get too busy to eat.

it starts as a weekly thing, where he only tries to bring you out to this café or the other, spending hours with you until sun down. if you miss a day, he asks you spend more time with him. well, he's the youngest of his unit... maybe he's scared to be left behind by his unitmates? so you agree.

but it gets worse. he asks to go out every day after classes, and gets visibly distraught when rejected. at lunch, he won't let you sit anywhere without him. you don't need to help any other units or do your work, open your mouth so he can give you some cake!

you know you have to put your foot down and tell him to back off once he starts meeting you outside your door, asking to walk with you to class. you never told him where you were staying, so how did he know...?!

oh, but telling him no, telling him to leave and give you space to breathe... he would sniffle as he fights back frustration in tears. no, it won't end. you can't spend time with anyone else or you won't be fed and cared for how he cares for you! why would you want him to leave? if you won't allow him to stay, he'll force you to. don't make it harder than it has to be, darling.

the rope is coarser than it looks, and his family has estates far out of range of that cute phone of yours.

you'll never be free of the feeling you're being watched. between classes, you know you see someone watching from the corner of your eye. while helping other units, you check over your shoulder, sound in the feeling that someone had just been staring at you. it goes so far that if you fall asleep, you awake because there's eyes on you, and you know it. but nobody is ever there when you jolt yourself awake.

you felt safe running to your room each day, finally able to relax without the exhaustion of worrying about whatever was chasing you. ritsu often texts you a lot before you fall asleep. it's comfortable for you, knowing he's on the other side of the screen, keeping you company until you drift off. you always wake up to a few messages of confusion as to why you aren't replying before getting a sweet goodnight text from him.

but suddenly, everything spirals to hell. you wake up suddenly one night to the sound of something slamming shut. you look to your window to see your screen is missing, and you shudder, just knowing that whomever has been watching you found your one safe place. you go to school early that morning, having found yourself unable to sleep.

ritsu notices right away that you're exhausted. he offers to help you skip class to nap, as he knows the best places to hide. you agree without hesitation, and as you walk together to wherever location he's decided on, you tell him about the odd feeling of being watched, and that the stalker had gotten into your room that night. ritsu says that it's likely nerves from overworking yourself.

the place he led you to was the school garden, which was almost uncomfortably empty. you notice a small table with three chairs and a teaset out, and ritsu guides you to sit down. the teaclub met there without him, but there was some left, he said. you were too tired to question, and the tea might help you sleep, after all.

you're nearly finished with your mug when you realize how dizzy you feel. ritsu stands by your side to catch you as you fall to the side, eyes fluttering as they struggle to say open. he apologizes to you, and says that he had to make sure you didn't wake up on the way 'home'. there's a bright screen before you, and when your hazy eyes focus, you realize he's shown you a picture of yourself sleeping that he has on his phone. you're just so cute, darling. he knows how much everyone pressures you to baby them, so it's his turn to baby you.

mikarin won't mind a secret third roommate as long as you promise not to make much noise.

trying to understand izumi felt impossible sometimes. the way he would degrade the ones around him, then get upset when they were hurt by his words... it was a while later you realized he never insulted you. well, not as badly as he did everyone else. a simple 'stupid' or 'annoying' here and there, but never anything as harsh as what the rest of the world heard. you decide that you'll keep your eye on izumi, as something felt off by his behavior. the fact he wasn't insulting towards you reminded you of his obsession with yuuki. nobody wanted that for themselves. sorry, yuuki, but take one for the team?

you reach into your bag at lunch, looking for your makeup pouch. arashi had noted that your foundation was thin, and your blush was fading. but in looking for the pouch, you noticed it was gone. you made a note to check for it once home since arashi decided she wanted to fix your makeup in her style, anyway.

once you got home and began looking for the pouch, you noticed that a lot of things were missing. sunglasses, pictures, a few books... you couldn't think straight enough to tally everything and shudder. someone had been stealing from you. for how long? why? how? you become defensive and don't replace anything that was taken unless it was absolutely necessary. you hold your things with you at all times, and get obviously cautious when someone asks about it.

izumi notices immediately that you begin to be more tense. it takes him a while to convince himself that it's a general sense of weariness, not targeted at him. but you stare at him more these days. have you caught onto him? he flicks your nose for it one day and tells you to stop being so on edge, because it drags everyone down. you hold your nose with shaky eyes. izumi hopes you don't notice the guilt he feels.

some weeks later, you get home late due to practice with another unit running late. you enter your room and scream when you see izumi rolling around in your bed, face pressed into your pillow. he rushes you, forcing your back to the door as he covers your face with the pillow. he easily overpowers you and pins you there with his body. it was so cruel of you to leave him to little to remind himself of you. he had to start taking from your laundry basket because anything else would've been noticed immediately! did you notice, by the way, that he had been using your makeup to feel closer to you? your lipgloss tastes like you.

darling, you really shouldn't drive him so mad... he won't always be so nice to you if you're cruel to him.

could you ask for a better friend than arashi? she felt magic sometimes, you swear. she always knew just what to say to lift your spirits. she always knew the best little gifts to surprise you with. really, it was almost scary how well she knew you and could take care of you. of course, that was just how she was, right? everyone loves her for it, so there's really no reason to worry.

your jewelry box fills up quickly with the little trinkets she'd give you from her photoshoots. your closet, too, as modeling always sparked her desire to shop. and shopping is no fun alone! it was almost as if she was always looking at things for your size and never her own... she can tailor anything she finds for herself regardless of size, so don't think too much about it! you nod nervously, but still, something nags at you and you can't tell what it is.

whenever pretty 5 could meet, arashi began to drag you along, as well. to a point where the other members began to comment on it. why was the producer here? they aren't doing idol work, so they don't need a manager right now. arashi doesn't like this at all. so instead of meeting with them, she'll just go on cute dates alone with you! you frown, but she seems to have convinced herself that this was fine before you could argue.

people begin to avoid you, as when they got close, arashi would soon appear to cling to your arm and invite herself into whatever situation was the topic of conversation. you feel suffocated by her. when you grow short with her, she panics, and offers to shower you with more gifts to make it up to you. or maybe you want her to do your makeup so you can touch each other more? oh, oh, maybe you want to do a photoshoot together so everyone around the world can see you two together!

huh, space? you want her to back off? oh, darling, that won't do at all. her face falls flat, and your body shakes. she walks closer to you as the warning bell sounds, and you whimper that you have class. who needs class, though? her palms slam against the wall near your head, and she leans in until your noses are barely touching.

you don't need anything but her, so she won't be going anywhere.

you're just in time! leo runs up to you as you enter the practice room. he had texted you that it was an emergency, so you need to meet him here immediately. of course you would rush over! all that he wanted, really, was to show you his newest composition. he sung it for you as you tried not to get mad at him. he was weird, that was all... he didn't mean any harm, but he seems to lack awareness.

it became a constant thing. begging you to come find wherever it is he's run off to, or bursting into any room you're in to show you his newest song. they're all inspired by you, so please listen to them! it scares you how he always seems to know where you are, but he never hears you out when you ask. he brushes off the concern as an extra sense for you, since you're his muse after all. as odd as it is, part of you wamts to believe it's part of his charm, so you make yourself ignore it.

you draw a line in the sand when he bursts into your class to disrupt you, and you drag him out by the wrist after apologizing to your teacher. you tell leo he has to stop chasing you all over and he has to wait to share his music with you. he whines and tries to plead, telling you how much he loves you and has to share everything with you. you're the only reason he continues to make music! without him, he'll run away and never come back! you wince. he can't keep this up-! how did it get this bad?

you're snapped from your thoughts when he wraps his arms around you and begins to drag you down the hallway. you fight back, and he bites you as a warning. he needs you, darling. and if you won't let him come visit, he'll have to steal you away. his family will love you, and his sister can keep you company if he really needs to leave for any reason.

just stay so you can be his muse forever, and he can serenade you for the rest of your lives!

[tech-knowing-hillbilly]

The hillbilly: Music and life in Appalachia

Day 1

When Tr’thl’ia first learned that the ship would be getting humans from a region on Earth that the humans called “Appalachia”, xe were confused. They had only ever met humans that came from cities near coasts, and had heard of what those humans referred to as “Hillbillies” in almost a derogatory tone. xe took it upon xemself to learn about what kind of humans would be joining xem. As xe read, xey started to understand why other humans had been critical of those from that area. Xe read about how that are hadn’t really been very populous due to the terrain, and also learned that because of the lack of infrastructure in that area, many humans that lived there did not get a lot of education due to many families being in poverty, mainly due to the only jobs in those areas being in the coal mines or other jobs that depended on coal. Xe read about events such as the Coal Wars, specifically about the Battle of Blair Mountain, which made xem shudder with sorrow for the lives that were lost. Xe also read about families such as the Hatfield's and McCoy's, which reinforced the stereotype of humans from there being violent and uneducated. Xe resigned xemself to dealing with constant fights and dealing with whomever started each one.

Day 2

When John McKannon walked onboard the G.U.R.V(Galactic Union Research Vessel) Frailing with the others from the mountains, he was surprised to see Security Officer Tr’thl’ia standing there, waiting with what looked like dread and disdain.

“Hello, my name is-” 

“I know who you are, Hillbilly.” Tr’thl’ia stated.” Just know this about my ship. I will not tolerate violence on this ship. If any of you or your friends cause trouble onboard, you will be shot out the airlock mid warp. do you understand?”

“Yes Xir,” John simply replied. What in the absolute fuck was xer problem?

Day 3

The day went, much to xis suprise, without physical incident. There was an incident around the second meal of the day that involved one of the hillbillies, Amos, and one of the other humans, Mike, from a place called “Florida”, in which Mike did some sort of odd whooping noise with their hand over their mouth and bounced around, which xe would later learn is a type of “racial” slur against those of First Nations descent. This caused Amos to start charging toward Mike before being stopped by John. Tr’thl’ia was confused by this, as the research that xe did before hand showed by all accounts that John shouldn’t have stopped Amos and instead should have even joined into the fight.

In the evening, or what could be considered evening on the ship, Tr’thl’ia was making xis rounds when xe heard a sound that xe had never heard before. It was rythmic, strumming sound along with beats that xe could not place, and it seemed to be coming from the rec area of the Hillbillies( they were given their own area as the captain was advised to by Tr’thl’ia). As xe drew closer xe could start to make out words:

My old mistress promised me                                                                                  When she died she’d set me free/                                                                           Lived so long her head went bald,                                                                           I don’t believe she gon’ die at all!                                      

more of the strumming and thudding sounds.

You take yours, and I’ll take mine,                                                                           We’ll go fishing in the summer time!/                                                                       You get a line, and I’ll get a pole,                                                                            and We’ll run down to the fishin’ hole!

Xe was at the threshold of the doorway to their rec room, and saw something that was suprising to xem. All of the hillbillies, save John and Amos were surrounding those two. John was strumming an object in their hands that looked like a disk with a stick on it, and Amos looked to be stomping. Xe let an audible gasp that drew the attention of everyone in the room.

“Are you alright?” John asked.

Yes, I w-was just investigating the source of the noise that I had heard. What were you doing with that object to get that sound?” Tr’thl’ia asked in amazement.

“This? this is a banjo, which is an instrument from Earth that was based on an instrument from Africa. And the noise that you heard is an old tune called ‘Hook and Line’. It’s a song that’s been played in our mountains for years.”John replied.

And those thuds that I heard?”

“That is a type of dance known as ‘Buck Dancing’. It is a dance that is similar to tap dancing , but where tap dancing is more involved with the front of the foot, buck dancing uses the whole of it to act almost as a set of drums for mountain bluegrass.” Amos answered.

“Ah, so is it a form of war chant, or ritual?” Asked tr’thl’ia.

“It is neither, it is a form of entertainment that is popular in the Appalachians due to it being very cheap, and it is good for social bonding.” 

“So that explains why you are all around. But why did Mike make that odd sound towards you, and why did that upset you?”

Amos turned red at that question, looking like he was about to cry , and John cut in for him, speaking in a soft, but firm tone. “He did it because he is a racist piece of shit, that’s why. Amos is Native American. His people where some of the first in the region, and were deeply persecuted back in the day for both their culture and skin color. Many were made to leave the area in an event known as the Trail of Tears. But some of those people did not wish to go on the Trail of Tears, and instead retreated deep into the mountains, for safety. Even still, many people nowadays hold deep prejudices against his people, and others like them. That’s why many of his people hid in those mountains, and joined communities of those that hid there as well for various reasons.”

“I understand now why you had a reaction like that, but why don’t other humans like people from your area? You seem like people that are very accepting from what you have told me.” Tr’thl’ia questioned.

“Because they are not as accepting as they seem. They came from privileged homes, homes with food on the table, parents who were home all the time to be able to answer questions, to help them learned. They are jealous that they do not have the drive to be able to get out of tough situations, like we do. Many of those you see here among us are from families that are broken and poor, with one or both parents gone at any given time. Many of us had days where we wouldn’t eat, because we wanted our younger siblings to be able to have a meal. Hell, many of us are working here TO support our families back home, to fight to keep food on the table. We fight a lot, as you probably have read, because we have to, because we have no other choice but to fight over resources as simple as food. That fighting, brings us together, the struggle brings people in our communities together, as we have all shared that struggle at least once.” John picks up his water glass and takes a sip. “We all here had to work to get out of those hills, for if we didn’t nobody would help us get out. We would all be dead within twenty years.”

Tr’thl’ia listened to the words that John was saying, and really thought them over and began to feel a bit of remorse for the way xe had greeted them earlier.

“I’m sorry,” Tr’thl’ia said softly, “ for the way I greeted you when you came aboard. I was biased by what the other humans had said about your people, and what they would be like, without giving me context as to why you may have to be that way. I didn’t realize that you would have to struggle that much to get out of that area, I thought that you would have all of the resources that you need to do what ever you wanted to do for a job, and that it was your own fault for not leaving.”

John cracked a warm smile at that. “You have no need to apologize for that. Many people have that same reaction to us. What matters is that you have the balls to accept that you were in the wrong and have tried to make some sort of amends. Now, where were we?”

You take hook, I’ll take line,                                                                                     We’ll go fishin’ in the summer time!

(If you made it this far down the story, Thank you! This is my first post, so it is probably a bit rough, but I hope you enjoyed it. Name of the tune mentioned in the story is ‘Hook and Line’ and if you want a good example of both the song and Buck Dancing, check out  Clifton Hicks - Hook and Line (dance accompaniment)! He is very talented and also has many videos on the history of the banjo and the afro-carribean roots of it. He also does lessons on older styles of playing such as Overhand(Frailing, clawhammer) and two finger picking. Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy!)

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Three: Beneath the Oak Tree

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Strained parent relationship, death of a parent, grief, anxiety, it’s gonna get a little fluffy in this one!

W/C: 3.9k

A/N: So I'm honestly really proud of myself for this chapter, there's a little something that I wrote while I was in Ezra's mind & I still can't get over it. I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you all so much for the love & support!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist Form

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

~APRIL NINETEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN – AFTERNOON~

At the day’s end, you begin your trek back to the house, the heels and balls of your feet aching in a bruising way with each step. The sun creeps lower and lower behind you as you walk and you can feel the warmth of its rays hugging your back. There was a time you would enjoy watching the sunset, when you would stay in town the few extra moments to revel in its beauty and its promise to you that, although darkness will soon creep in, the sun will rise again and bring with it a fresh beginning.

Now, though, your newly appointed duties force you to neglect your favorite time of day. Right after closing the shop, you headed over to the butchers shop for the cheapest pound of beef, cut up into chunks as requested by Pa, and began walking. Not looking back at the town or the sunset, but not able to look forward either. Muscle memory takes over your legs, the map in your mind leading you straight home and all other directions you may have anticipated moving towards are erased completely now.

As you walk up to the farm, you see Mr. Prospect far into the fields, digging weeds from the Earth diligently with the hoe in his hands. You gander upon him for a moment, slowing down your pace just to glance a little longer than might be considered appropriate. He’s discarded his jacket and his white shirt looks dirtier now, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps to reveal his tan arms. They’re not overly muscular, but you know they must be strong with how hard he’s working the fields.

You misstep while your head is turned to Mr. Prospect, the toe of your boot catching a fairly large rock in the dirt and it causes you to trip. You stumble, but regain your balance quickly and feel the flush of embarrassment flow through you, your head now facing forward with the front door to the house in your sights. You take another peek at Mr. Prospect, his attention still focused on the dirt, obviously not having seen you fumble and you thank whoever above that he had not been looking your way.

Once inside, the aroma of vegetable broth is swirling through the air; Pa had already begun the stew, thankfully, relieving some of the responsibility from you. You walk into the kitchenette and set the wrapped beef down onto the only free counter, then you remove your bonnet and bag, hanging it on the wooden hook and turning to place the lockbox back inside the safe.

You turn back to the kitchenette, unwrapping the paper to reveal the raw meat within and you dump it into the boiling broth with the vegetables. A simple stew; you’ve no spices besides pepper and fresh rosemary from the garden and the meat was already salted by the butcher, but it was always a favorite that Ma would make. Yet, when you try to cook it, it never comes out with the same taste anymore. As if Ma had put her own love into it and it was another part of her you just would not have anymore.

After some time, the stew is finished, the broth thickened and the vegetables and meat cooked through to tenderness, and just then, Pa walks into the house. He walks as if the weight of the Earth rests on his shoulders and he breathes deeply, trying to regain the air in his lungs he had lost from the hard work of the day. You stand in the kitchenette, waiting for him to move from the frame so you are able to greet Mr. Prospect as well, but Pa shuts the door behind him.

“He did not wish to join,” Pa says simply.

“Did he explain why?” You ask.

“He said he did not want to impose. I did not press the matter; if he chooses solitude, I will not force his hand,” Pa replies as he sits down at the table.

You keep quiet, deciding not to further discuss the subject so as to not upset Pa and you ladle a helping of stew into a bowl for him, carrying it along with the basket of rolls to the table. You set it down in front of him and after he says his silent letter to Ma, he begins eating. You serve yourself some stew as well and sit down at the table. You and Pa eat in silence, as usual, but there’s a nagging thought in your head that will not subside. As much as you try to throw it to the wind, your curiosity gets the best of you and as you stand to grab your dishes, you find the courage to confront your father.

“Pa?”

“Hm?” He grunts, packing his pipe with tobacco.

“Why did you not inform me of Mr. Prospect yesterday?” You ask quietly, hoping he will not be upset with your questioning.

“I did not see the need to. Not until I had a chance to speak with him myself.”

“I could have helped, Pa. You could have sent him to me and I could have spoken with him,” you continue as you move to stand closer to him. He sighs deeply.

“No.”

His quick response comes out cold, a spat in the face more like, and you immediately take offense. Clearly, Pa still sees you as a child and, like a child, he expects you to bend to the laws he has established in this house. Your pulse races, the grown woman within you takes over your mind and you feel the urge to fight for your position. It breaks your heart; you were used to fighting for yourself in the town, but now you find yourself fighting against your own father.

“Why? Do you not trust my judgement? I’ve put my work in for the farm like you and Ma have before me,” you reply in a firm tone.

“Because I am the owner and I will hire whomever I see fit. Enough of this.”

He nearly barks at you, like the Bakers’ dog that would frighten you as a child whenever you passed its territory, and you feel that same terror rush through you now. You try to see reason, but no acceptable excuse comes to mind. Perhaps he did not feel as though you have earned his respects as the young lady you are. Whatever he thinks of it, you feel it may be best to settle the subject. For now.

“Yes, sir,” you say softly. You turn to the kitchenette, place your soiled dishes in the basin and walk back to the range, serving a helping of food into another bowl with a spoon and setting a roll on top. “I will go offer some stew to Mr. Prospect.”

“Leave him be, daughter. If he wished to eat, he would have joined us at our table,” Pa says with a furrow in his brow.

“Perhaps he is intimidated, Pa. Afraid to sit and converse with us after the town has already been so unfriendly. If he wishes to be lonesome, I will respect it. But I will not let him go hungry simply for his preference.”

Before giving Pa another chance to argue, you step outside and shut the door behind you. You take a moment to yourself once you are far enough away from the house. A crushing feeling sits on your chest, pressure building and building and you take deep breaths in an attempt to calm your rapidly beating heart and quiet the ringing in your ears. You allow yourself to feel the cool breeze from the night flow across your face and closed eyelids as you find your center again.

You had hoped Pa would see you as an adult by now, not a helpless child. The loss of your mother only matured your soul more than it already was previously. You wonder what Ma would think, if she would agree with Pa or with you. Only more sadness courses through you, though, as you remind yourself that you will never know the answer.

Finally regaining your strength, you walk towards the barn, bowl in hand and heart drumming nervously in your chest. Why? Why so anxious? What is it about this mysterious man that has you feeling like a schoolgirl again? He was absolutely an intriguing – and rather handsome – man, far different from the men around town, as well as friendly, so why had everyone else been so disconcerted by him? You truly must have a different set of eyes, then, because you only wish to know – to learn – more.

You reach the ajar barn doors and knock on the wood softly to announce your presence. There is some shuffling from within until Mr. Prospect pulls open the door, his gaze full of pleasant surprise to see you standing in front of him.

“Sunflower,” he grins. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I apologize for interrupting your rest, but I figured you might be hungry after today,” you reply and hold out your hand with the bowl. He glances down at it, quickly looking back up into your eyes.

“I couldn’t, miss, I would feel as though I am taking advantage of your kindness.”

“Nonsense,” you scoff and his eyebrows twitch amusingly at your rebuttal. “It is the very least we can do since we are not able to pay you much. ’Sides, I’ve already served you; I would be more offended if you were to decline now. Otherwise it will go to waste and that will not sit right with Pa. Or with me.”

“Very well, Sunflower. I would hate to disappoint, so I will accept. Thank you very much,” he smiles and grabs the bowl from your outstretched hand, his fingertips lightly brushing your palm and a slight tingle from his skin on yours trickles through your hand. “May I ask you to join me?”

“I’d best not linger; I’m afraid I’ve managed to upset Pa tonight and I’d rather not cause him any further distress before sleep,” you explain, pushing past the temptation to say yes.

“I am sorry to hear that; I hope my being here hasn’t caused any controversy between you and your father.”

“Not at all, it has nothing to do with you, Mr. Prospect. Rest easy,” you smile.

“Thank you, dear Sunflower. Both for the ease of mind and also for this meal; I cannot wait to taste the flavors that have charmed my nose with its temptatious smell.”

You giggle softly at his statement; he speaks so differently, his own elocution, it seems. You bow your head slightly at him and take a turn to leave, but a lingering curiosity prompts you to speak.

“Mr. Prospect, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he grins while he waits.

“Why do you call me ‘Sunflower’?”

“Do you take offense to my endearment, miss? I do apologize-”

“No,” you shake your head, offering a small smile for your expression to match your acceptance of the name he has bestowed upon you. “I must admit I quite like it. I was only curious.”

“It is because you glow as one; bright as the sun, yet gentle as its petals. Though, its beauty would diminish greatly were it next to you in comparison.”

Your neck, cheeks, and ears burn; an almost overwhelming heat you have not felt since little Morris Clark snuck a kiss to your cheek as children in the school play yard. Though, there was nothing childlike about the sensation rushing through you. His words make you smile; a genuine smile you forgot your face was capable of producing.

“I… I hope you enjoy the soup. I-I will be back for the bowl and spoon in the morning,” you stutter and attempt to hide the jubilant grin on your face by biting your lip. “Goodnight, Mr. Prospect.”

“Sunflower?” He calls out as you’re mid-turn, causing you to stop at his beckon. “Please, call me Ezra.”

Your smile breaks wider across your face and Ezra grins back, nodding slightly as he watches you consider his proposal. You take a breath to calm the thumping of your heart.

“Goodnight… Ezra.”

“Goodnight.”

~APRIL TWENTY-FIRST OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Sundays were your favorite days. No, not because of church, but because it was the only day of the week where you were able to close the shop early enough and have a spare moment to yourself. While everyone was busy praising God, praying to Him to prove they were holier than the rest of the town and repenting for the sins they committed during the week (just for them to start fresh on a new batch the next morning), it was the day you found your own escape.

You intently watch the clock ticking on the wall until the work day comes to an end and you quickly rush to the door to flip the sign, guaranteeing no other customers would make it through. You head back to the counter and carefully examine the ledger and count the coin from the day to assure each sale has been accounted for. After checking it once, you go through it again to reaffirm it’s correct and close the book.

You gather the coins in your hand and place them in the velvet bag, tying the string at the opening and setting both the bag and the book into the metal lockbox. You turn the small key, place the box in your bag, and nestle the key within your breast pocket.

You hurriedly make the trek back to the farm and you see Pa rounding up the chickens for their feeding. In your haste, you notice belatedly that you had not seen Ezra in the fields, but convince yourself he may be busy elsewhere. After a brief announcement of your arrival, you walk through the wooden front door, the floorboards creaking underneath you as you walk straight to the black safe next to the fireplace. You place the metal box from your bag inside the safe, closing it once again and heading back outside.

“Pa, I’ll be back in time for supper,” you call out as you stand under the apple tree, searching for the shiniest and reddest apple from its leaves to place in your bag.

“Be careful, daughter,” he replies as he throws more feed into the dirt. Considering how strained your relationship with Pa became, thankfully, he still respected your weekly ritual without any argument.

You wave and walk away from the farm, in the opposite direction of the town and towards the hills. It’s a mere five minute hike until you make it to the small landing at the base on the other side of the hill, letting the sounds of the flowing river fill your ears with delight. It is your own personal haven; no other person has found this place and you privately claimed it as your own, even marking your initials into the large oak tree that dwelled there.

As you make your way through the pine colored grass and up to your usual sitting area, you see the outline of a man sitting under your tree. Your brows furrow in confusion and you feel momentarily disappointed upon the realization that your secret place has been found by another, but you don’t dare be outwardly perturbed; how were they to know this was your own private sanctuary to escape the gloom of what has become of your life?

You continue in a steady march, not prepared to let your resting spot become someone else’s easily. Your mother taught you manners; you knew how to share. That did not mean it had to please you, but as long as they kept to themselves, you rationalize, what’s the harm? Maybe it was another lost soul finding comfort in the calming atmosphere of this place. An unavoidable grin stretches across your face, however, when you step closer and recognize the choppy cut of hair atop the man’s head. You catch a glimpse of his profile and his discernible nose and conclude it is the traveling man that has so intensely piqued your interest.

“Good afternoon, Ezra,” you address once you’re in range of his hearing. It catches him off guard and his shoulders jolt slightly, clearly unexpectant of anyone else finding this place.

“Sunflower,” he beams when his eyes meet yours as you stand under the shade of the tree. He moves to stand to properly greet you.

“Please,” you hold a hand up to stop him. “May I join you?”

“It would be a true delight,” he responds and resettles himself on the ground.

You smile sincerely and are pleasantly surprised to find it comes naturally and with ease in his presence. You lift your dress slightly from the ground and carry your weight to your knees to rest on your bottom, bending your legs to lay beside you. You sigh contentedly as you smooth out your skirts out around you.

“What brings you here? What about the fields?” You ask.

“Your father relieved me of my duties for the remainder of the afternoon. He declared: ‘Every soul should rest on the Lord’s day’.”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “That sounds like Pa.”

You do not press the subject of his religion, knowing first-hand how irksome it is when others comment on your lack of worship and you do not wish to cause Ezra any further discomfort by intruding on his personal preferences. A moment of silence passes between you two; the river flows and splits across different shaped rocks and boulders embedded into the dirt below the surface, creating a relaxing tune, gladly welcomed by your ears.

“It’s lovely here, isn’t it?” You ask, turning your gaze to his. To see his peaceful face, full of heartfelt content of the surroundings, you think it may not be so bad to finally have a friend to share it with.

“Indeed; lovelier so with your company,” he smiles.

You feel a strange occurrence within you, a sudden spike in your pulse that makes your fingers and toes tingle, much like when they ache at the end of a long day. Yet, in this moment, you welcome it.

“I usually come here alone,” you say quietly as you fiddle with the strap of your bag.

“My apologies; if you’d prefer, I will find a different location of rest,” he frowns slightly, afraid he has imposed on time you prefer to spend alone.

“No,” you say quickly. “Don’t fret. Besides, this is the only place the children do not come to cause chaos.”

“I see,” he chuckles breathily, a sense of relief rushing through him that he has not upset you. “Perhaps we can share, then?” He questions tenderly in a hopeful wish released to the air.

“Yes,” you nod. “I think I would enjoy that.”

He smiles, his eyes gleaming along and you cannot fight the slight, arrhythmic thumping in your chest at the sight of his glee. Another moment passes without a word spoken as your heart paces normally once again and you look over at Ezra, his fingers busy fiddling with a small book.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask. He looks at you before meeting your gaze to his lap.

“Oh...” He looks at the brown, leather bound booklet in his hands. “A journal for my thoughts and compositions alike.”

“It’s nice to write down your reflections. May I hear some? Unless they are too close to your heart, then I do not wish to pry.”

“I’ve not read these aloud to anyone since my youth, dear Sunflower, but it would bring me great joy if you were to listen,” he says softly and you turn your body to face him, providing your utmost attention.

He smiles, chest rising profoundly with each nervous breath he takes as he opens his book, turning the ivory pages with the pad of his index finger until he lands on a scripture to read, clearing his throat before he begins.

“The vast expanse of the Green went on in each direction farther than the eye could see. The emerald of the leaves above coalesce into the umber of the earth below, both hues combining in the moss bound to the wide and tall bodies of majestic trees.

“The sunlight rained through the leaves, its rays bathing the ground I walked on and bringing the small buds of flowers to life with each step I took. The morning dew kissed the delicate fronds, single droplets meeting their lovers akin and they became as one, rolling away from the home they shared briefly and freefalling in blissful adrenaline until they met their demise in the dirt.

“I immersed myself in the environment, years upon years of the knowledge of rebirth all around, and I breathed in the crisp coolness of the air and life surrounding me. I long to become the moss on the tree, the buds in the dirt, the dew on the frond. To fade away into the Green and be born again.”

He takes a deep breath as he closes the book, grazing his fingers along the cover as if he is praising it, thanking it silently for the blank canvas it provides for him to express himself. His words move you, the meaning behind his composition striking a chord within your heart and, suddenly, you feel a small bead of water rolling down your cheek. As you bring your finger to your eye to wipe away the first tear you have shed in many moons, Ezra looks over at you and catches you in the act.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?” He asks with concern laced in his voice. He would reach out to comfort you through physical touch were he not afraid to overstep and offend you.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you brush off before flashing a soft smile at him. Though, he is not convinced. “It’s beautiful; you have a raw talent for composing. It sounds like a lush place, nothing like around here. What is ‘the Green’?”

“A never-ending stretch of greenery and tall trees. At times, I can faintly smell the aroma of the dirt, muddied by the rain.”

“Where is it?” You ask, a slight hope forming in your heart that you may be able to visit someday.

“Ah, it resides only in my dreams, I’m afraid. A place my subconscious has manifested for me to visit during my slumber.”

“It sounds heavenly,” you add in a whisper.

Ezra is stunned; in his youth, he has composed small poems and sonnets such as the one he just recited to you and each time he dared to share them with anyone, he always got the same response. Classmates teased him and called him a freak or queer and he never felt any desire to share his work again. Yet, with you, your gleaming eyes directed to him with such intrigue, he felt compelled to share once again. And the response this time warms his heart.

“It can be. Then again, it feels quite lonesome as well. Such a colossal stretch of land, yet I am the only one there.”

“It must be my own desire to be free of prying eyes and ears that makes it sound appealing. I did not consider how it has been for you during your travels. Forgive me, Ezra,” you say, your eyes shining with guilt and he looks deeply into them, a touch of gold streaking in his irises as the sun flashes across his face.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dear Sunflower. I understand your desires. If I had also grown in a town such as this, I would gladly welcome a visit to the Green.”

You nod your understanding, but a twinge of guilt hits you as you consider how poorly Ezra must have been treated when he first arrived. You do not wish to ask and ruin the peacefulness of this moment, though you vow to keep it in mind to ask at a later time. For now, you will enjoy your company with Ezra under the large oak tree, heart happily beating in your chest with someone to finally share time with.

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

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[mooniefics]

— insubordination

pairing : eren jaeger / fem reader

word count : 5.7k

tags : porn w plot, eventual smut, angst-ish

warnings : nfsw, non-con/extremely dub-con, impact play, descriptions of blood and injury, ooc eren being very mean

summary : you were nothing in his eyes, and he was nothing in yours. that's how it was meant to be, that's what commander hange had assumed when they assigned you such a simple role. but people are unpredictable, and sympathy for the wicked can make you do some pretty stupid things.

— originally posted 1 / 4 / 21 on ao3 —

this task was arguably your least favorite part of the day.

it was too quiet, eerily silent when you walked down the steps, and that one uneven brick always seemed to trip you up when you weren't looking out for it. balancing the dishes on the serving tray also wasn't the easiest, and it was all the more demeaning when he would be waiting for you by the bars, eyes as empty and uninterested as ever but still fixed on your every movement.

you were a soldier, not a waitress, and a part of you wondered why they didn't just make the marleyans do such a belittling task rather than force you to lower yourself down to such a level three times a day. but you knew it was because he'd be less hesitant to strangle the life out of any non-paradisian before he'd go after someone from the island, and you had enough self defense training to withstand any escape attempts he might make.

but eren jaeger seemed docile when he was in his cage, and that fact eased you just the slightest bit when you descended the stairs to his cell that day, toting a sandwich and a glass of water on the tray for him. you thankfully caught yourself before you tripped up on that uneven last step, breathing out a little sigh of relief about not having to deal with split food and broken dishes along with the humiliation of screwing up such an easy task. you didn't want to give him another reason to look down at you, another excuse to see you as even lesser than he already perceived you as.

he didn't seem to care much for a select few from his graduating class, and you seeing that you were trained with the 106th training corp, you hadn't had any sort of direct interactions with him until you were assigned to bring him his food for the day. at first, commander hange had insisted on doing it personally, but as the workload increased and the luxury of free time dwindled, the duty was passed onto you.

you had honestly been terrified when you first faced him, hoping that those bored yet sharp green eyes didn't catch the way your hand trembled when you fit the key into the lock, opening up the slot in the door that was just big enough to slide the tray and its contents across to him. he didn't say much, no hellos or thank yous exchanged, just a brief glance at your face and a muttered "you're new" as he took the tray to his bed and sat, silently eating his meal and sliding back the tray and empty dishes for you to take back up with you. and that was how it usually went, no fuss from either end, just a silence that was barely occupied by the scrapes of his utensils on the plate and the occasional clearing of his throat.

you expected another quiet interaction as you stepped across the old brick floor, keeping an impassive expression even after seeing that he was waiting for you at the bars, wearing nothing besides a pair of trousers that sat low on his hips. you ignored his uncharacteristically intent gaze, setting the tray down on the ground and fetching the ring of keys from your uniform, struggling to not let your eyes wander over him.

something felt different, an unusual feeling of trepidation that clung to you as you picked out the right key, unlocking the serving slot and slipping it back into your pocket. besides his evident lack of a shirt, there was nothing odd about today, nothing that should make you feel the agitation that was creeping up your spine. you swallowed down your nerves as you set the tray down like you always did, sliding it over onto his side of the bars. he always seemed much taller when he was up close like this, and even with his relaxed posture he still towered over you. his robust frame only served to make him more intimidating, muscles flexing beneath the pale skin littered with past scars. you didn't expect to feel the warmth of his fingers brushing over yours when he reached out to take the tray, suppressing the flinch that threatened to make you jump away from his contact, looking up to meet his steady gaze.

"thank you." he said, the slightest of smiles perking up at his lips at the sight of your surprised expression.

despite having the tray in his grasp, he didn't pull away from his place before you, drawing a few fingers down the side of your hand, not taking his eyes off of yours. you gave a gentle push of the tray, urging him to take it, not wanting to back down from what you assumed to be a test of your courage.

"hurry up and eat, jaeger. i don't have all day." you told him with much less authority than you would've hoped, but felt the smallest bit of pleasure from how he blinked at you, most likely not expecting you assertion.

"you know, you can call me eren."

that was the last thing he said before he let his gaze fall to the tray, warmth receding as he took his meal to his bed to eat. that was the most words you'd ever said to one another, arguably the most startling encounter you'd ever had as well. he seemed almost happy to see you, any show of emotion besides indifference was magnified by how rarely it appeared, but you reminded yourself that this was no reason to let your guard down. in fact, this was only more reason to keep a closer eye on him.

he could be planning something, you wouldn't put that kind of scheming past him, you'd heard the murmurs across your unit about how isolated his desires were from the greater good of humanity. he'd lashed out at his superiors as a cadet, he'd rebelled against the judgement of the former commander, fought the levi ackermann for selfish, narrow-minded reasons.

but, really, couldn't he escape whenever he wanted? freedom was just an injury away for him, he could shift into his titan form whenever he pleased and completely demolish the cell and everything above it, run off to see whatever corner of the world he wished to or murder whomever he had on his hit list. perhaps he was merely toying with you, the boredom of isolation driving him to tease the soldier who'd never once gotten the chance to see past the territory just outside the walls despite being a scout. you were surprised that he hadn't gone crazy from being locked up in a cell with just a bed, a sink, and a small barred window, not even a journal or a book for entertainment, although he was unhinged enough to have to be held here, so you assumed that it somehow balanced out in some odd way.

you told yourself to just take a deep breath as you stood by and waited for him to finish his meal, chalking up his behavior to him being an eccentric man with an endless amount of free time in his hands. he didn't speak any more when he passed back the tray and dishes, only offering another faint smile that didn't quite meet his eyes before returning to his bed, allowing you to latch the lock once more and make your quick exit up the stairs, thankfully out of his sight and not dropping anything when you tripped up on that uneven step.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"eat with me."

he didn't react to your incredulous look from behind the bars, steady stare staying trained on your face, fingers brushing just over your hand. it took you a moment to find your voice. "no."

"why not?" he replied easily, either entirely unaware of his aloofness or intentionally putting up the front of detached confusion.

"you're in there for a reason, eren." you said, giving a gentle push forward to the tray, "now eat."

it had been just over a week since your first conversation, he'd made no attempt to initiate another in the following days until just now. but he wasn't showing the hint of contentment he'd allowed to peek through on his features the last time, just the cool, uncaring demeanor that you'd become accustomed to as he delivered such a ridiculous request.

"i don't want to eat alone." he persisted, punctuating the sentence with his own nudge of the tray back to you, "what could i do? even if i tried to escape, the guards outside would catch me before i made it far." there were no guards outside, but you didn't tell him that. "you'll have wait on me to finish anyways."

you didn't reply back, not wanting to speak and risk him hearing your voice wobble, or let a nervous stutter slip. you found it strange how his displays of humanity were more startling than when he lacked them, the image of his more mechanical self that you'd grown used to, the one that you were alright with leaving in a cell alone for days, being shattered by the slight smiles, the naivety that came in him even thinking that you would comply with his desires.

"i could stand away from the door if it'd make you feel better, you don't even have to sit next to me. i just.." he turned away, lips turning down in an almost sheepish frown. "i just want to feel like someone is in the room with me."

you were almost afraid of this new emotion from him, having to force your brow to not knit into an expression of surprise and your mouth to not fall open at this incredibly unfamiliar territory. you felt that you were good at reading people, good enough to sniff out most false claims and facades that were put up by the people you were close with, but you weren't close with him, not in the least. all you knew of him was his name, his designation, his special abilities, and that he seemed to like soup the best, considering that he always finished the fastest on the days you brought it down for him. how convenient that you had a bowl for him today, alongside a small loaf of bread and the usual glass of water. but looking over his face, you couldn't help but feel your resolve crack just the slightest bit at the sight of him.

it made sense that he was getting lonely down here, the only people that were allowed to speak to him were you and the commander, and seeing that no one had gotten reamed for making an unauthorized visit, you were sure that the small group he was acquainted with weren't sneaking out to give him some company. and there seemed to be genuine emotion gleaming in his usually dull eyes, cheeks and ears flushed with a soft red that warmed his features, a kind of reaction that you found to be hard to fake. you didn't exactly lose sleep over his imprisonment, but you weren't a monster, you didn't discount the mental toll that this kind of solitude could have on a person.

"move away from the door."

the words slipped out of you before you had a chance to think about them anymore, slightly eased by the fact that he actually followed your order and stepped back as far as he could. you picked the ring of keys out of your pocket, finding the one that unlocked the door to his cell and slowly pressing it into the keyhole, letting out a small breath of alarm when you heard the inner mechanisms unlatch.

you couldn't help the way your eyes darted over to him, half expecting him to come  running to shove past you and make a mad dash out of the barracks. but he stayed right where he was, not moving even as you pushed open the door and stepped in, trying not to turn your back to him for too long as you eased it shut and tucked the keys back into your pocket, taking his tray and setting it at the foot of his bed like he always did before returning to your place at the door, giving a small nod to let him know he could move.

he was relaxed as ever, nearly smiling to himself as he took a seat, as opposed to you, who's back was stiffened into the straightest your posture had been in weeks, clenched hands that were becoming clammy with sweat. you knew exactly why you were getting so worked up over being on the other side of the bars that had giving you that sense of security now only giving you the sense of being caged in with someone who was really more of a stranger to you than anything. but he seemed more than pleased to have you in his vicinity, and the look on his face eased the chill rattling up your back, threatening to make you look more like a cornered animal more than a stoic soldier.

he was halfway through his soup when he reached for the bread, raising it to his lips to take a bite before he stopped, glancing over to you with a sudden intrigue. you watched as he broke it in two, not minding the crumbs that fell down onto his shirt and lap, holding the larger looking piece out to you. "here. it wouldn't be fair if you just had stand there and watch me enjoy my meal."

if your eyes widened in surprise, he didn't react to it, only adding a slight wave to his outstretched offering. you forced your foot forward, nervous to approach him but wanting to accept what felt like a sort of peace offering, a wordless assurance that he meant well. for the first time, his mouth drew back into a smile, a full, genuine, almost charming smile when you took the bread, hoping he didn't catch the way your fingers trembled as you stood there, unsure of whether to focus on the warmth of his gesture or taking a bite like he seemed to be expectantly waiting for you to do.

you didn't realize how dry your mouth was until you bit off a small chunk, chewing much longer than you usually did before you swallowed it down, not tasting anything but feeling your heart skip at the sight of his happiness. you retreated to your place at the door, finishing off the bread, watching him quickly wrap up his own meal and get everything back in order on the tray. he didn't usually do that either.

you felt an uncomfortable squeeze in your chest when he stood, gathering the tray in his hands and walking up to you with slow steps. he made sure to keep a good distance away from you, probably not wanting to give you any reason to be anymore afraid that you already were. you took the tray when he held it out to you, and he stayed holding onto it with you just a moment longer than he needed to, gleaming eyes wandering over your face in that little bit of time before he released his grasp, stepping back to where he originally had when you first entered and mimicking your small nod to tell you it was alright to go.

you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips, a shy, nervous little close-lipped smile that came with the blush darkening on your cheeks, nudging open the cell door with your foot and exiting without a problem. and as you fished the key ring out of your pocket and found the right one to slide into the keyhole, he took a seat at the foot of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, gazing up at you as you secured the lock back into place.

"thank you."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you found yourself going into his cell a lot more often than you probably should've.

the first couple days you stood at your place by the unlocked door, seeing how with each passing day you exchanged more and more words, the conversations becoming less stiff and hesitant. you only went in at lunch, since in the morning there were a lot more people milling about after breakfast, and in the evening the guards that stood outside by the stairs actually came to ensure he didn't get out during the night. the afternoon was the only time where everyone had already gone to their designated workstations, and besides the stray person or two that happened to pass by during that time, no one was around to catch your massive insubordination of orders.

you'd eventually began to sit at the foot of the bed, the tray putting a comfortable distance between the two of you as you chatted. he would offer you bites of his sandwich, or a piece of his bread like he did the first time you shared a meal, always giving you a little something despite your insistence that he kept it for himself, saying that "it would be unfair to starve his guest". speaking casually was surprisingly easy, passing stories of your training days and your initial struggles with omni-directional movement gear back and forth, letting him tell you about his time across the ocean and appreciating how intently he listened to you lamenting about the severe lack of exposure you had to the world outside the walls.

you couldn't admit it to anyone else, but you had begun to grow fond of him. the initial expression of cool apathy completely melted away when you were with him, the features of his face which you had initially found stern becoming somewhat handsome when he was giving those little smiles, a breath of a chuckle when you said something he found funny, or the focused expression he would take on when he nodded along to the stories from your childhood you had to offer. perhaps under different circumstances, you might've even wanted to see if things could go further than easy banter between two friends, biting your tongue when you thought about slipping in something about how he could be your guide when you could finally go out and see the world.

there was no way they would keep him in here forever, the effort to cover new ground and widen the army's frontiers was going swimmingly from the looks of it, so maybe there'd be a day in the future where you could walk about with him, away from the brick of his cell and without the bars separating you. that thought had been especially nice to think about as you sat on your calves across from him on the bed, your half of today's bread nearly gone as you listened to him talk about what he would get up to when he was a child, running around his hometown by himself and trying to sneak into taverns to catch a peek at the barmaidens.

"you know, there was this one particular girl that i remember being head over heels for," he mused, pausing to lick the bit of soup that had swiped across his lips from his last spoonful, "one time she came to my home for my father to check out her arm, said she'd gotten grabbed by one of the more unsavory characters that hung around those bars. i was so angry i almost went out looking for him myself."

you giggled a bit at the mental image, a wide-eyed little boy with the big dream of saving his childhood crush from the evil world. "isn't that sweet?" you quipped with a smile, quickly eating the last bite of bread in your hand and dusting off the crumbs onto the floor, "what'd she look like? she had to be beautiful to catch your eye." you tried not to let your disappointment in letting that slip show as you waited for his reply, mentally noting to have a bit more verbal control the next time.

"well, she actually kind of looked like you."

you felt your face pink at that, trying not to show your embarrassment as you cleared your throat. "r-really?" that was all you could manage, only feeling even more flustered by the slight grin he gave.

"really. you're obviously not identical, but there are a couple of things that remind me of her when i look at you." he shifted his position a bit, the space between you narrowing as he leaned over the tray to get a better look at your face. "your eyes look like hers, a different color, but the same shape. and you have the same freckle right here."

he pointed to the place on your face, finger inches away from you but still the closest you'd ever been to touching aside from the light brushes of your hands when you passed the tray to one another. "and now that i'm really looking, you both kind of have the same hair."

he was much closer than before, both of your knees at either end of the tray because of how it'd been pushed, realizing that you yourself had been unconsciously leaning forward. the warmth of his hand brushing across your cheek was a bit startling but definitely not unwelcome, thumb catching a stray lock of hair to tuck behind your ear.

"yeah.. you do." he murmured quietly, but you were more than close enough to hear it, able to pick out the brighter flecks in his brilliantly green irises, feeling his soft exhales fanning across your lips.

you couldn't believe you had let this happen, let yourself end up like this with the man you were supposed to just bring food to and guard from a distance, but at the same time you couldn't pull away, couldn't force yourself to part from the now low-lidded eyes gazing at you with such an unreadable depth, just barely obstructed by the hair that had slipped out of the messy style he had it drawn up in today, full lips parted and just a breath away from pressing onto your own. and so you let your eyes fall shut, feeling his hand slip further into your hair, fingers working deeper into it like they were meant to be there. but instead of a kiss, you felt his grasp in your hair suddenly tighten, barely able to let out a small gasp of pain before he drew your head to the side and smashed it into the brick wall next to you.

pain exploded across your skull, white spots blotting out your vision when your eyes flew open, unable to hold yourself up when he threw you down on the bed, already feeling the warmth of blood seeping out of the broken skin. you could faintly hear the clatter of metal and the smash of porcelain on the floor when he kicked the tray to the ground through the ringing in your ears. your first attempt to speak came out as almost a wheeze, mouth numb with shock as you tried to force your leadened limbs to move, writhing uselessly as he began to wrestle off the belt of your jacket, flipping you onto your stomach as soon as it came undone and ripping the jacket off of you with one strong pull to the collar.

"hel—help !" you wailed almost incoherently into the empty hall, knowing for a fact that no one was there but hoping there was somebody, anybody that could possibly be wandering past the building outside would come to save you.

all your combat experience meant nothing now that he had you sprawled out under him, straddling you as he tied your hands behind your back with your own belt, laughing coldly at every half-hearted squirm and small sob that left you. the wound on your head sent an unbearable ache through your entire body, beginning at your temple and searing through every nerve, each rough jostle from the body on top of you only adding to the pain.

"thank you for being such a kind guard," he drawled, audibly shaking your jacket to figure out which pocket the keys were in, "you really are great company, and such a sight for sore eyes."

your spotty vision was only further obscured by the tears that were now dripping onto the sheets. "p-please, d-don't hurt me..!" you cried, seeing him toss the jacket down on the floor, most likely having pocketed the keys for himself. he hauled your hips up by the waistline of your trousers, seeming to take joy in the way you whimpered at the strain you felt in your arms.

"do you really think you're in the place to make demands?" his voice was dripping with arrogance, breath hot on the back of your neck as he spoke into your ear, "the one who was stupid enough to fall for such a simple trick? the way i see it, it's almost like you were asking for this to happen."

you furiously shook your head at that, ignoring the way each thrash sent an ache echoing through your skull, teeth clenched in pain as you tried to force the words out. "n-no.. please, n-n-no—"

he didn't care much for your frantic tears or stammered pleas, already tugging your pants and underwear down around your trembling legs. "but you're worth a few moments of my time, all stupidity set aside. you really do look like that lovely barmaiden from my hometown." he paused to grab at the soft flesh of your exposed thighs, spreading you open as far as your position allowed it to, revealing the wetness of your involuntary excitement. "and look at that, already all nice and wet, just for me."

another pained sound escaped when he firmly grabbed your hair again, keeping the side of your face pressed into the bed, barely allowing you to hear him undo the zip of his pants and the ruffle of him pushing them down. he thrust into you without warning, drawing a hoarse whine from the burn of the sudden intrusion, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted to try and steady your strained, uneven breaths.

"relax, relax." he demanded, nearly growling as the heel of his palm pressing down on the back of your neck.

it wasn't as if this was your first time, but the people that you'd been with before we're always gentle with you, patient, asking infrequent but sincere "are you ok"s and "you're ok, right"s that quelled any unease about being in such a vulnerable position. but the hazy calm you'd had begun to associate with sex was completely absent in this moment, the empty space instead filled with the hiccuped sobs that refused to stay down in your chest, the throb of your bleeding scalp that was only worsened by his large hand grasping a fistful of your hair, beginning to clump with sticky red blood that was just starting to soak into the white sheets of the bed. you couldn't understand why that fear that was permeating through you, the peril that gripped your racing heart so relentlessly, the thought of not knowing whether you could assure your survival or not was only making you more and more excited for him.

he had taken up an unforgiving pace, driving small, broken moans from your lips, tense muscles gradually relaxing to accommodate all of him. it was wrong, you should've been fighting right now, keeping up your screams for help, anything to prove to yourself that you wanted to escape, but you found that it felt so terrifyingly good to give up under him.

"eren.." you barely managed to enunciate his name before your words devolved into more breathless whines, pins and needles pricking at your now numbing fingers that were losing circulation from your bindings.

"fucking pathetic," he spat, free hand moving to abuse your clit with rough, uncoordinated rubs, "you're just fucking begging for it, aren't you?"

he punctuated each abrasive word with a deeper thrust into you, dragging you over the edge before you even had the chance to realize how close you were to cumming. you cried out at the heat tearing through every inch of your sore flesh, nails digging into your palms as you slumped back against him, saliva dripping out of your open mouth and onto the bed.

the emptiness of him pulling out of you made you whimper, more strained sounds of protest escaping your throat as he flipped you onto your back, struggling to find a bearable position with the way your hands pressed uncomfortably into your spine. for the first time you were able to see the wild look in his eyes, his lips drawn back into more of a snarl that bared his teeth rather than a smile, even more of his long, dark hair having fallen from his hair tie. you could hardly take in the finer details of his image, the symptoms of the concussion you likely had already settling in around the edges of your vision, remaining sight starting to flicker out into darkness.

"wake up. hey." the sight of his hand rearing back and the sharp sting of its impact on your cheek were disconnected but registered all the same, forcing a pained groan out of you as you blinked up at him, trying desperately to dispel the black specks pulsing across your vision as you recovered from the jerk of your head being knocked to the side.

you could already feel the redness forming on the skin of your face, the rough hands that had just started tugging at your shirt impatiently tearing it halfway open, sending buttons flying off in every direction as he grinned down at you.

"you really threw a wrench into this whole plan of mine." he forced down a few chuckles, wiping some of your blood on his fingers off on your ruined shirt, "i should be making my way to the east exit right now, but all i can think right about it seeing that pretty fucking face you're gonna make when i make you cum again."

his fingers dug into the pliant flesh of your thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he pushed himself right back into you, clearly relishing in the way you whimpered out baseless pleas and curses. your legs squeezed around him instinctually, hips bucking up to meet his despite the small whisper in the back of your mind still begging for you to maintain a shred of dignity and push him away.

he kissed messily at the base of your neck, barely able to maintain the mimicry of intimacy for more than a few seconds before he was biting at the exposed skin, sometimes only just brushing his teeth over it but sometimes hard enough to print them into the bruising flesh. you could barely hold your eyes open enough to see the cracked ceiling above you, feeling the heat of his breaths over your shoulder and the audible clap of his skin meeting yours with every rough thrust. you chose to focus on the familiar pressure welling deep in your stomach, letting your eyes roll back into your head and your shaking legs squeeze tighter around him, only acknowledging his teeth breaking your skin with a whine in favor of just letting yourself hit that impossibly high peak once again.

he growled out a low string of curses into your neck, movements becoming less coordinated and even rougher as you came around him for his second time, not having enough lucidity to be ashamed of how easily release came. he continued even as your legs became heavy in his grasp, writhing and crying out dissipating into the occasional twitch, barely able to register the end of the entire exchange until you felt the liquid heat spilling into you. it only halfway made up for the lack of his cock in you as he pulled away, not bothering to try and bring you back to consciousness while he shoved himself back into his pants.

you roused on your own just a few moments later, gasping in quick little breaths and rolling yourself onto your side so you didn't crush your numb hands and wrists anymore than you already had, blinking away the blur of tears and the spottiness of passing out as you craned your neck to look up at him, wincing when you drew an injured area of skin taut. you just caught him tugging on your jacket, which had always fitted you loosely and was now fitting him snugly, his face flushed but having returned to his usual cool, impassive demeanor. but when he turned to look down at you, you could see a flicker of pride cross his features, the slightest smirk playing on his lips.

he said nothing as he walked right out of his cell, shutting the metal door and locking it behind him, the sound of his footfalls growing fainter down the hall and disappearing entirely as he ascended the steps. you would guess that it took around an hour for someone to come down and find you. by then, the slow stream of blood had slowed and clotted, and the belt around your wrists had loosened enough to allow adequate blood flow but still too tight for you to wriggle out of in your weakened state. you were sure that you looked pretty worse for wear; half naked, covered in injuries of varying severity, messy with a mix of blood, spit, tears, and cum.

but instead of thanking your lucky stars that you didn't have to spend the whole night trapped down there, you simply let your heavy eyes fall back shut as the soldier, a boy your age that you didn't know well but had gone out on a few mission with, promised to come back with a spare key and take you to the infirmary before running out in a panic. you didn't know whether you wanted eren jaeger to successfully make it out or be apprehended and sent right back here after they'd cleaned you up. would they interrogate him about how he escaped? would he tell them about you and the role you played in it?

after all was said and done, the only thing you were entirely sure about was that you'd probably never be allowed to go near him or participate in any assignments involving him ever again. and even after everything, a part of you just didn't want to believe that this was the end for the two of you.

[phantomnostalgist]

What was it like being a phan in the day? Nowadays there's so much to do in the phandom, online roleplaying, fanfiction etc. So what did phans do before the internet was widely popular?

Ooh, good question (and sorry for taking so long to log in and answer, and if my answer is very rambling, as my brain still isn’t working right).

...And my internet went down in the middle of this reply, so it’s twice as rambling as the first version I typed up...

For me it was a mix between pre-internet, and early internet. My first year or two of being obsessed with Phantom, I literally didn’t know other phans existed, so my fandom activities were about tracking down any information or version of Phantom I could, which pre-internet wasn’t easy. The novel wasn’t even in most bookstores! I eventually found another phan via penpal adverts, then met someone else at the theatre. In many ways, starting a fan club was just my way of finding other fans to connect with. I know a lot of people got penfriends via phanzine ads too, so I think a certain amount of phandom happened in people connecting and enthusing together one on one in letters. It was truly an amazing feeling back then, even to discover other people who loved Phantom, who cared about Erik, who had all these feelings I’d initially thoughts I was utterly alone in.

There were fanzines back before mine, most notably Phantom Notes in the US from the late 80s to early 90s, and people were publishing fanfic by mail back in the day too. It was just harder to find until you discovered such things existed, and a whole new world opened up. I wasn’t so much into fanfic, but there were a number of phanfic anthologies in the early 90s, mostly from people in the US. So once you’d discovered a fanzine, you could get into the fanfic scene, but you had to pay for fic, as whomever was publishing it had to pay for the photocopying and distribution. 

The early zines had a lot of discussion amongst fans, like the early email list and message boards, on all aspects of the show and story, but there wasn’t room for things like roleplaying, or the wider kinds of fandom creativity the internet enables today. Most obviously because with a quarterly newsletter, you were waiting months between seeing your letter published, and reading people’s responses. On the other hand, it did make every little thing way more exciting, as it was so much more time and work to track down!  

I think what phans did also depended how near a production we were, as the stage door was another area we could meet and hang out with other fans (and queuing for returns, when tickets were sold out). There were some get-togethers in the early days, often around anniversaries or fundraising events for Broadway Cares, sometimes including theatre tours. The second ever Phantom fan I met was someone I spotted during the intermission who had a Phantom tattoo, so of course I went and started talking to her (and she turned out to be on her 98th show!). 

The early internet days were similar, in that I pretty much connected immediately with the first few Phantom fans I met online - which where through the rec.arts.theatre.musicals newsgroup. I can actually remember the names or screennames of numerous fans I met back then, in about 1995. Then Karin W started the Phantom email list, and various of us most “online” phans spent a lot of time on the #phantom IRC channel (where we didn’t talk about Phantom much, it was more a social gathering space for people who were all phans, and it was a lot of fun though also had its times of fracturing into extreme drama, because we were young and internet etc). People also began publishing a lot more fanfic back then of course, as there were plenty of free webhosts. I don’t think the roleplaying really got going until later on in the internet era, although I think there were attempts at it earlier... Actually I used to get some pretty weird emails from people RPing as “the Phantom”, which I rolled my eyes at at the time, but I look back on it and realize they just wanted someone to RP with, and there weren’t really any forums for it at the time. 

This is an incredibly rambling and disorganized answer (thanks Jack Daniels). I suppose phandom for me back then came into a few areas... First was just my passion for Phantom/Erik, and searching every resource I could find for any information. Then there was actually seeing the show, the stage door experience, getting to talk to the cast and squee over my faves, as well as sometimes meeting other fans. But just as important was having people to write to about it all - initially penfriends, then a couple of people I met, then people subscribing to and writing letters to the fanzine. And the joy of uncovering information - discovering things like the links between Christine Daae’s story and Christina Nillson’s for the first time, for example, which is now well known but was thrillingly exciting 25 years ago. 

Okay, to go back to the original question, what did phans do before the internet was widely popular? Searched for information and thought we were alone in our love for Erik; gradually discovered others who shared our love, and wrote embarrassing teenage confessions to our penfriends, full of our sex fantasies about Erik and certain Phantom actors, causing us to have to get our letters back from them when we later mutually fell out; found or founded fanzines, sharing our views with more phans, and finding fanfic zines; um I think this entry is long enough now so I’m posting it.

[mimi-cee-hq]

The Dating Project - Futakuchi x Reader

Summary: In a dorm where nobody dates, Futakuchi thinks of a solution to Y/n's Dating Project.

Pairing: Futakuchi x fem!Reader, mentioned Aone x Nametsu (for plot reasons)

Genre and Themes: Fluff, Boarding school AU, Getting together (to fake date lol), Sort of dystopian? but it’s still cute?

Word Count: 1,553

Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday @writeiolite! Here's your matchup story. Out of the list of your favourite characters, of course I chose Futakuchi :P This is the first time I’ve written an AU, but I hope you like it. (Your description is at the end of the post.)

General Taglist: @dorkyama @the-black-birb @hqprotectionsquad @nagichi-kenma @moonaaluna @muffins-puffins

*****

Y/n heaved a sigh as she rested her head in the palm of her hand. “Should I just drop the Dating Project?” she asked Futakuchi.

He leaned back against the metal bench they were sitting on and placed his hands behind his head. He stared up at the glass dome ceiling of their dorm, about five floors high from them. Colourful metal beams stretched across the building. Students milled around the balconies. At his left was a wide metal stairwell, just far enough so the people strolling up and down wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“Why? You were so passionate about it when you first thought of the idea,” commented Futakuchi.

A large and soft teddy bear was the only thing separating them. Who knew his stuffed gift would remind him to keep his distance from her - not that she knew it was from him. He still hadn’t quite adjusted to being a resident of Dorm E, even though he had lived there for three years.

“Nobody wants to be a part of it,” Y/n replied, sticking out her bottom lip. They continued to face the TV, playing a movie which was apparently acceptable for them to watch.

“Well… can you blame them?” he said. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, fully aware he couldn’t reach over and place an arm around her shoulders. So instead, he rubbed his hair and sighed. “Not after they made an example out of Nametsu,” he added.

He recalled the moment when he heard the announcement through the speakers. Nametsu would no longer be a part of Dorm E. He and Y/n stared at each other, eyes wide, and ran to the balcony to see what was happening in the dorm’s foyer. Nametsu was being escorted out of the dorm.

Reasons were vague. They said her potential had decreased to the point where she was no longer a student suitable for Dorm E, a place reserved for top students. The school evaluated every student on a variety of factors including leadership skills, extra curricular activities, and academics. They wanted Dorm E to have a culture of innovation, creativity, and success. The students would be society’s future leaders.

So dating was banned.

There was no need for romantic relationships. Those were reserved for commoners. The elites of society were meant for more and shouldn’t be tied down to a relationship.

So when Nametsu was caught dating Aone, the Council decided she was unsuitable to be a future leader. Her potential was negligible.

“Ugh, what they did to Nametsu was stupid,” she told him. “But she didn’t care anymore. You should have seen her eyes when she would describe Aone: stoic but warm.” Futakuchi saw a sad smile on Y/n’s face. “And when they kicked her out, it was as if she was walking down the aisle. Like one of those women dressed in white!” Y/n longed to be able to love like that too, to give it her all like Nametsu.

When Futakuchi raised an eyebrow at her, she realized what she said and she quickly covered her mouth. “Pretend you didn’t hear that,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Pfft,” he teased. “You’re telling me to forget that you watched a banned movie when we’ve been talking about your Dating Project this whole time?” That earned him a smack from her, using the teddy bear of course.

“I know so many students here who are in love,” she continued to complain. “I’ve seen how they pine for each other.” She let out a sigh. “But nobody wants to take that first step.”

“Well… they’re still the minority,” commented Futakuchi. “Most of the students in Dorm E agree with the Council - especially people like you who’ve been here their whole lives.”

Y/n gave him a smirk. “I still don’t know how you got in,” she said, lightly jabbing him.

“I just know how to not get caught,” Futakuchi grinned with pride at her.

Y/n was about to retort, but he suddenly stopped talking, blinking a couple of times. She saw the growing smirk he was trying to hide, but she caught on right away. “I know that look!”

“What look?” Futakuchi said as he averted his eyes away from her.

“That look when you get an idea that'll piss off someone,” she said, bending over while laughing.

“No it’s not,” he snapped back.

“How would you know what you look like right now?” she snickered. He didn’t answer. “Come oooon,” Y/n whined as she continued to poke him. “Tell me!”

“Ugh!” he groaned, finally giving in. “Alright.” He opened his mouth to tell her, but stopped short of actually verbalizing his idea. Instead, a blush covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Y/n eyed him, grabbing his arm and saying, “What the heck? Are you going to tell me or what?”

Futakuchi let out another groan and shrugged her off. “Fine. Basically, you can do what you usually say: show don’t tell.” Y/n scrunched her brows. “You know… for the Dating Project.”

“Uhh… What?”

“Just start dating someone to encourage the other students to start dating,” he explained. “If you take the lead, others will follow.”

As Y/n scratched her head, seriously considering Futakuchi’s idea, he turned his head away from her. He started to bounce his knee, now regretting sharing his idea.

“Futakuchi…” Y/n said in a singing voice, causing him to look back at her. Y/n batted her eyes at him expectantly, knowing he would be quick to catch on.

“No,” he firmly replied. “I’m not doing it.”

“Please!!!”

“No.”

“But you’re the only one who agrees with me.”

“No I’m not.”

“Okay, you’re not,” Y/n admitted. “But you’re the only one who’s not pining after someone.”

Futakuchi grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair. Of course she’d think that. She didn’t know he liked her - even though he did before he came to Dorm E.

Several years ago, he saw her and Nametsu through the wired fence bordering Dorms B and E. He hadn’t met anyone from Dorm E before, but he thought they were all nerds with no life, which was why Y/n peaked his interest. She danced. He watched her footwork and her swinging arms. He saw her there every Thursday afternoon, showing Nametsu the various moves she came up with and laughing at herself whenever she messed up. Little by little, his desire to see her up close grew. He even started to wonder if he had a chance to get into Dorm E. He did.

“Are you sure about dating me?” he asked. “Aren’t you worried about getting kicked out?”

“It’s worth the risk. I want to see the Dating Project happen.”

He sighed, scratching his temple. “Okay. Just on one condition,” he said in a serious tone. “Just to be clear, we are fake dating, okay? That’s the only way I’ll agree to this.”

With fake dating, they had a chance. He could weasel their way out if things got messy with the Council and they failed. There were no rules against fake dating. Even if there was just a small possibility he could keep them in Dorm E, he’d take it - even if it messed with his own feelings.

“I’m fine with that,” Y/n grinned. “Umm… but now what?”

“What do you mean? Do you seriously have no idea what to do?” replied Futakuchi.

“I’ve only watched one banned movie okay?” she replied, reminding Futakuchi she had no real life examples of people dating.

He took a deep breath, knowing he would be in for a rough one. If he was the one who needed to take the lead in this relationship, he didn’t know how he’d keep his feelings in check. But maybe he didn’t need to.

Futakuchi suddenly scooped up Y/n from the metal bench, her legs dangling across one arm and her back against his other. “Hey! What are you doing?” she complained.

He rolled his eyes and replied with a scowl, “Having fun with my fake girlfriend.” Futakuchi carried her to the large stairwell, scanning the area to make sure they were visible to most of the people in the building. As expected, some were already turning their heads.

When they got to the middle of the staircase, he put Y/n down and looked into her eyes, asking again, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Y/n nodded. As he studied her face, he admired how selfless she was, putting herself out there at the risk of being kicked out, hoping to change Dorm E. She longed for it to be a community where students would be free to date whomever they loved.

Taking her cheeks in his hands, he pulled her close and placed his lips on hers. Y/n’s eyes shot open in shock, Futakuchi seeing them after pulling away. “W-what was that?” she asked, her cheeks surprisingly red.

“A kiss you idiot!”

Looking down, she shyly asked, “Can we do that again?”

By now, Futakuchi could sense many eyes watching them. He heard mumbles and whispers around the building. But that wasn’t his current concern. He wondered how long they could keep their relationship fake.

*****

I hope you liked it. I'm a little worried you won't because this is slightly different from my usual. But I was glad I reopened my match-ups so I could write this for your birthday. lol.

Fun fact: This was inspired by a historical couple who got married to encourage others to do the same (and to provoke their opponents). I'll be surprised if anyone knows who I'm talking about. lol

I have another Futakuchi x reader fic called Anonymous Text, which is in canonverse and a cute and funny one, and a bunch of other fics too in my Masterlist.

*****

Matchup Request from @seijoh (Like usual, I didn’t use everything lol):

MATCHUP REQUESTS AYYYEEEE!! feel free to write based on anything u already know abt me plus: am a smol dancer and choreographer. i love to lead projects and come up w/new ideas. cooking/baking is lots of fun but nothing beats sitting in bed with a soft kitty, tons of blankets/stuffed animals, and just cuddled up over a tv show. or going out for food/museums!! ♡ i’m a firm believer in all or nothing, so i’m rly like that with relationships too ahdhsjjsakw. congrats on 500 again!! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[whysthatsofuckingfunnydickwad]

Slow Hands

Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Here’s 5.2K words of basically pure smut. Blame Sara for this because she peer pressured me. 

“Don’t forget, Rich, we’re going to Ben’s poetry slam tomorrow night,” Eddie said into the phone that was pressed between his shoulder and ear as he typed away on his laptop. He had a report that was due before the end of the weekend that he somehow needed to cram into his ever-tightening schedule, and unfortunately for his school work, Eddie’s attention span always seemed to be taken up by the extravagant Richie Tozier.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about my commitment to my dear Benjamin, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie said on the other end of the line while scribbling Eddie’s last minute reminder onto the calendar-templated dry erase board Mike had bought for him after the time Richie missed two exams in a row due to mixed up dates. “Do you remember what the dress code was? Stan might kill me if I show up underdressed to anything ever again.”

Eddie laughed softly to himself at the memory of Stan nearly bending a salad fork in his fist when Richie had showed up dressed casually for the annual Exotic Bird Protection fundraising banquet. Stan’s bird watching group had donated 100 dollars per chair for whomever Stan decided to bring with him as representation for the members in the New York area. Apparently the location, The London Club, had confused Richard, who showed up in skinny jeans and a flashy jean jacket to a black tie event.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with his words so laced with his smile that Richie could picture it perfectly in his mind if he closed his eyes, “Ben said that it’s casual dress, you should be fine.”

Their conversation continued and Eddie eventually abandoned his laptop, shutting it down and moving to lie on his bed. Talking to Richie came as easy as breathing; the pair had grown impossibly closer since their big move despite how large the city was. Eddie’s grown to realize that it’s easy to develop a feeling of being impossibly small somewhere as large as New York City. Nobody knows him and everybody is travelling in a different direction than he was; it’s breathtakingly new for a small town kid.

Eddie, who happened to be mid sentence, yawned and looked at the clock on his bedside table while finishing his thought, his eyes widened at the late time, he opted to ignore the number of hours he’d just spent on the phone with someone he’d seen all day and would see again for most of the day tomorrow.

“Ouch,” Richie laughed at Eddie’s impossibly adorable yawn, “Getting tired of me, Eds?”

“I got tired of you years ago, Richard,” Eddie said and giggled when Richie audibly gasped in mock offense. “Listen, man, I still have to shower before I go to bed, you know I hate leaving the apartment with wet hair.”

“You’re gonna take a shower? Are you kidding, without me? Eds, I’m wounded,” Richie said into the phone, expecting a humorous groan and brief goodnight, but that’s not what he got.

Instead, Eddie laughed heartily and said, “Okay then, why don’t you come and join me?”

Eddie held his breath, surprised at the sudden boldness that has taken hold of him, and just as he’s about to abandon his previous statement and blame the late hour, Richie, having swallowed thickly before even comprehending what Eddie had said, replied with a small laugh, “Only if I get to lather your girly soap on you.” 

Eddie tried to come up with an excuse to leave the conversation before he could embarrass himself but before he could mutter anything, Richie, whose voice seemed to drop at least half an octave and had become filled with air, interrupted.  “Tell me more, Eds.”

“I’d let you do more than just that, Rich,” Eddie said through the shaking release of his held breath. A shiver went up the lower half of his back and shot through his shoulders at the thought of Richie’s hands sliding through his hair, rubbing in the peppermint scented suds and massaging his scalp. He vividly imagined Richie gripping a fistful of his brunette locks and pulling his soapy hair back into the steaming stream of water to wash the foam down his bow arched back and Richie’s pale arm as the taller man sucked marks into the expanse his neck. Eddie could feel the turnings of lust growing hot in his stomach.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Eddie,” Richie whispered into the phone and Eddie nervously rubbed his hand against the terry cloth fabric covering the tops of his thighs, imagining Richie’s constantly confident touch as he spoke. Eddie was beginning to forget how to breathe.

“I want you to touch me,” Eddie whispered, unsure of what to say as his hand rose to rub against the firmness in his soft shorts, fingertips moving to dance along the hem. “Can you make me feel good and clean, Richie?”

Eddie bit his lips together and physically smacked his palm to his forehead at the words that had tumbled from his mouth. Dumb. Beverly would be disappointed in the awkwardness he was allowing to spill out of him like word vomit.

This time it was Richie releasing a shaking breath as his free hand moved slowly from gripping his freshly washed sheets to toying with the silver button on his jeans, taking his time with the fastenings that were pressed against his growing erection. “Oh, Eds,” Richie says lowly into the phone, “I can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before, but the things I want to do to you are far from clean.”

Flashes of Richie lying on his bed with his pants low on his hips, face flushed, eyes heavy with lust, and his hand rubbing against the crotch of his jeans shoot through Eddie’s head and he finally allows his slender fingers to dip into his shorts and briefs, coming into contact with the hot, velvety skin of his shaft. “Oh, g-god, Richie,” Eddie moans high pitched and needy as his fingers start to squeeze in waves around him, “I want you bad, Rich. I want- I w-want-.”

“You want me to make you feel good, baby?” Richie interrupts as he finally drags his fly down and pushes the denim pants down his lean thighs. “You want me to touch you all over, Eds, every last inch of your gorgeous skin?” Richie’s voice dropped to a low, almost unsure whisper, “Are you touching yourself, Eddie?”

The sudden breaching thought that Eddie is gasping as he touches himself while his best friend is on the other end of the phone threatens to bring him crashing to earth with fear. The thought terrifies him for the briefest of moments, until he hears Richie moaning softly on the other end of the line. More images spark in Eddie’s mind of Richie gripping his length in his pale hand, the dark hair travelling from the base of his prominent cock to his navel where his shirt has risen to expose his stomach. Heat pools heavily in Eddie’s stomach at the thought of Richie getting off to him just a couple of blocks over and he felt his abdomen contract as he neared completion. Throwing caution and fear to the curb and abandoning the taunting thoughts that could possibly bring him down from his high, Eddie moans into the phone, “Please, Richie.”

Richie’s skin had grown hot and red as he started to perspire with anticipation, he sucks in a breath and grips his hard on tightly, “Eds” he says, breath hitching, voice weak with lust and anxiety from his pressing question, “Can I come over?”

Eddie moves his hand from his length to grasp the soft sheets at his side with white knuckles as shivers violently racked his body at the loss of touch so close to climaxing. Eddie’s cock twitched against his belly as he sucked in a couple of deep breaths, attempting to calm himself down enough to answer Richie’s question.  He could practically hear Richie’s anxiety in the silence over the line.

With a stuttering exhale, Eddie whispered, “Yes.”

In high school, Eddie had been on the track team, ditching his inhaler once and for all, and worked his way up to setting the state of Maine’s high school records for the 200 meter straight dash and the two mile run. It took Eddie nine and a half minutes to run two miles. Now Richie, who had never joined any sports in high school, sprinted down two and a half miles of the ever awake streets of New York City and set a buzzing new record for the time it took for Richie to get to Eddie’s studio apartment. Richie was knocking on Eddie’s door twelve minutes after having hung up the phone in his apartment.

Eddie jumped when he heard the knocking; his fingers had been twisting together with anxiety as he waited for Richie to arrive and now that Richie was there, just on the other side of the door, they had stopped fidgeting and began slightly trembling. Eddie looked at himself in the large mirror he had hanging on the wall, he already looked fucked up; his hair sticking up in different directions, cheeks flushed, chest heaving under the soft white V-neck he wore, and his still erect cock straining against the fabric of his red shorts.

When he opened his apartment door, Richie looked just as wrecked as Eddie had imagined, and for a moment Eddie allowed his eyes to trail over Richie in his crumpled state against the doorframe, the taller man still panting from his run. When their eyes met, Richie swallowed thickly at the lust pooled in Eddie’s doe eyes and parted his thin lips, “I almost got hit by a taxi. I mean, I guess I kind of did, I was on the hood for a second. I think the guy started yelling at me but I didn’t stop.”

Eddie laughed and let the smile continue to tug at the corners of his mouth as he bit his lip and looked up shyly through his lashes, “Only you would get hit by a taxi and still run.”

“I think I was running towards something pretty important,” Richie whispered as he finally moved into Eddie’s personal space, letting the door softly swing shut behind them. Almost methodically, Eddie’s hands moved to hold the back of Richie’s neck and tangle in his dark curls as he picked Eddie up. Eddie allowed his strong, tanned thighs to wrap around Richie’s narrow hips before Richie set him down on the closest surface, which happened to be the counter that separates the kitchen and the rest of Eddie’s living space, crowding him almost instantly. “Eds,” Richie said upon an exhale.

Their foreheads rested together as Richie moved to stand between Eddie’s thighs, hands sliding up soft flesh before meeting the terrycloth of Eddie’s shorts and watching his fingertips disappear underneath the cuffs. Eddie, heart pounding violently within his chest, moved in until his nose bumped lightly against Richie’s freckled cheek and hesitated before slotting his lips against the slight roughness of Richie’s chapped ones.

Richie, whose heart was pounding in his ears and whose cock was straining furiously against his zipper, almost crumpled under the intensity of the chaste kiss and tried steadying his shaking hands by roughly groping Eddie’s upper thigh, hands almost lost entirely underneath the fabric of his shorts. Eddie gasped slightly into Richie’s mouth at the rough nature of his hands, which allowed Richie to smoothly slide their tongues together.

With soft fabric bunched against his slim wrists, Richie’s hands moved around to take handfuls of Eddie’s ass and pulled the smaller boy closer to him. Richie pulled back to whisper into Eddie’s ear, “I need you to tell me if it gets to be too much, Eds.”

Eddie nodded and Richie reattached his lips to the addicting flavour of strawberry Chapstick and Eddie Kaspbrak. Pulling Eddie’s hips forward again to meet his own, Richie groaned deeply into Eddie’s eager mouth as the tanned brunette pushed at Richie’s jacket, the denim bunching at his elbows before getting stuck. Eddie’s pelvis meeting his own sent electricity up Richie’s spine, causing the hairs on his body to stand tall and gooseflesh to rise from his pale skin. Pulling away from the kiss took all the physical self control Richie had over his body and then some, feeling cold as soon as his hands left Eddie’s body.

The view, to say the least, was worth it. Eddie’s hands were braced against the hard counter, shoulders slightly hunched, rising and falling with his panting breaths, his thighs were parted with his hard on trapped and prominent within his shorts, legs dangling off the edge of the counter. His mouth was red and swollen, lips glossed with Richie’s saliva, eyes glazed over with longing, and a blush stained his cheeks and chest. Richie had never seen anything quite as perfect.

“Holy fucking fuck,” Richie muttered before he tore his jacket off the rest of the way and he stripped his T-shirt from his body, causing the blush already on Eddie’s face and chest to deepen from pink to crimson. Following Richie’s lead, Eddie shyly lifted his V-neck over his head and threw it to the floor. Before he could push his overgrown bangs from his face Richie was pulling Eddie’s slight body off of the counter and carrying him towards the queen sized mattress that Eddie had resting on a box spring just below the bay window across the room.

“Richie,” Eddie moaned while tightening his legs around Richie’s slim waist and burying his face in his neck while one of his hands carded through Richie’s hair. It took Richie no less than three steps to trip over his previously discarded jacket, toppling forward and half landing on top of Eddie.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie said, scrambling to get off of the shorter man and check for injuries, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mea-”

Before Richie could ramble on Eddie pushed the trashmouth off of him, the lanky man landing on his back what felt like seconds before Eddie was climbing on top of him, knees spread on either side of Richie’s hips. Planting his hands on Richie’s chest, one over his ribs, and the other against his breastbone just above the other man’s racing heart; Eddie ground his hips down, plush rear meeting Richie’s desperate and clothed cock. “Bev taught me some wrestling tricks, and yeah,” Eddie stated without stopping his merciless grinding against a moaning Richie, whose hands had settled on Eddie taut thighs, “I will use them against you.”

Richie couldn’t help the whole hearted laughed that punched its way out of his chest, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed, “Be careful Eds, mental imagery of you and Bev rolling around together on the ground might just make me cream my jeans.”

Eddie scoffed and, almost thoughtlessly, reached forward and harshly twisted one of Richie’s pink nipples between his thumb and index finger. Richie screeched at the pleasure-pain that coursed through his body through the small peak and bucked his hips up against Eddie sharply, body arching off the ground at a backbreaking angle. Eddie pressed his bottom against Richie’s crotch to hold him down as he continued his slow torture. Experimentally, Eddie moved until both of his hands were placed over Richie’s pectorals, thumbs rubbing tortuously slow at the aroused buds, one slightly bruising from Eddie’s previous attack.

Richie, who was now moaning with abandon, felt the growing sensation of peaking building inside of him, beginning to squirm underneath Eddie and growing desperate for more. “Oh, god,” Richie moaned, his voice laced with need as Eddie’s small thumbs continued their stroking movements, “Eddie, I’m all for nipple play and cumming untouched, but I don’t wanna jizz my pants. Not tonight.”

The pleading tone in Richie’s voice left Eddie with a satisfied feeling deep in his gut, one he would have to address at a later date because as soon as Eddie let up, Richie all but picked him up and threw him onto the pillow top mattress. The bounce that came after his initial impact with the bed left Eddie in a fit of giggles that hadn’t died down by the time Richie had crawled on top of him and when he was finally able to calm himself, he looked up to see Richie staring at him with complete adoration. 

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie whispered and his large hand settled on Eddies rouge cheek, thumb stroking the soft flesh there. Before Eddie could speak, as it seems to often be, Richie whispered again, a smirk taking over his face, “Nah, I couldn’t be. Dream Eddie is never this pretty.”

Eddie didn’t have the words, instead reaching down towards the waist of Richie’s jeans, nimble fingers toying with the button until it popped open, exposing the fly of the jeans and the ever-thickening trail of hair that lead from Richie’s navel to his cock. With one hand Eddie, torturously slow, dragged the zipper of Richie’s jeans down, almost leaving the man over him exposed, with the other he pulled Richie in by the back of his neck for another chaste kiss. 

“Please, Richie,” Eddie whispered as Richie kissed from his mouth and down his sharp jaw, hands pushing languidly at the denim at Richie’s hips, “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Richie nodded against Eddie’s skin, mouth leaving small red marks in its wake as he travelled down Eddie’s exposed chest and worshipped the familiar skin he’d never had the liberty of touching. Eddie arched towards Richie’s mouth and whispered small pleads into the air as Richie’s mouth reached the hem of his shorts, teeth biting at the material. “Let me see you, Eds,” Richie moaned and Eddie nodded, pleads increasing in volume.

“Richie,” Eddie thoughtlessly continued to nod, eyes shut and hands pulling at the soft fabric of his pale bed sheets. “Please touch me.”

Richie’s hands gripped the red fabric and started slowly tugging the shorts down Eddie’s sculpted, hairless legs, kissing the newly revealed skin of Eddie’s hip. Once Eddie’s cock was free, resting upwards against his stomach, Richie pulled Eddie’s shorts the rest of the way off and discarded them without concern of their landing point. Without a moment’s hesitation, Richie took Eddie’s length in his hand and placed his mouth along the side, kissing the tender flesh. “Eds?” Richie started, receiving a broken moan from the man above him, “I wanna suck your cock.”

“Fuck,” Eddie yelled when Richie’s tongue flattened itself against Eddie’s member and dragged itself to the tip where pre-cum was pearling and dripping in rivers. The salty taste of Eddie left Richie desperate, mouth encasing the head and swallowing the shaft down his throat. Eddie impulsively bucked up, hand flying into Richie’s curls and his brows knitting together as he lifted his head to watch Richie’s mouth experimentally engulf his cock.

Continuing to gently buck into Richie’s mouth, Eddie felt his stomach heating up at the feeling of Richie’s slightly crooked teeth scraping against the delicate skin of his cock. Blindly, Richie reached towards the night stand placed beside Eddie’s bed, wrapped his fingers around the knob of the small drawer, pulling it open and grabbing the bottle of lube that resided there. The hand that had been wrapped around the hairless base of Eddie’s cock moved to pour lubricant along the long fingers of Richie’s other hand, once satisfied Richie tossed it to the side and listened the bottle clatter to the floor. “Christ, Richie,” Eddie said as his bucking started to grow reckless and choppy, pleasure coursing through his shaking body.

Eddie roughly pulled Richie’s head away from his crotch by his curls just as his fingers started exploring Eddie’s puckered and desperate entrance. The overwhelming sensation of Richie’s perfectly filthy mouth and the breaching feeling of being stretched open left Eddie with a tight knot of pleasure in his stomach that was all too close to coming undone. Richie immediately tensed and froze every part of his body that touched Eddie and started to shake with fear that he had done something wrong. Eddie felt Richie’s rigid body before he saw the worry in his magnified eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Richie asked, lips swollen and coated with spit.

Eddie nodded and Richie visibly relaxed but didn’t continue his exploration of the naked man’s sensitive hole and Eddie felt the tension in his stomach from his impending orgasm leave him, sheepishly Eddie whispered, “I was going to cum.”

The blush that covered Eddie’s body darkened and Richie, keeping intense eye contact with Eddie, allowed his sheathed finger, already two knuckles deep, to curl and twist within the warmth that was Eddie.

“That's kind of the point, Spaghetti,” Richie smirked before lowering his head to pepper kisses and hickies over Eddie’s tanlined thighs, fingers slowly working their way in and out of Eddie’s tight body.

Eddie moaned and clutched the bed sheet, pulling the taut fabric from the corners of the mattress. As Richie added fingers to his relentless attack on Eddie’s entrance, Richie felt his heart begin to speed up in anticipation.

It's taken them upwards of a decade to get to this point. Years of pining had lead to the moment in time where Richie Tozier would brutally fuck Eddie open with his astonishingly long fingers. Richie occupied his mouth by continuing to suck at the head of Eddie’s abused cock, drool cascading down his shaft and causing Eddie’s skin to erupt with goosebumps. “Richie,” Eddie gasped, white knuckling his sheets, “Fuck, Richie, just fuck me. Please. Oh god.”

Richie pulled away from Eddie until their bodies no longer touched. The smaller man, who laid before his best friend naked and shameless, arched his back off the bed while trying to follow Richie’s warmth. Staring down at Eddie, Richie began pushing the denim jeans off of his hips, slowly exposing the brightly patterned briefs underneath, and Eddie, who was sweaty and panting, began to shake with the desperation and anticipation he felt fluttering in his stomach. 

Once Richie had kicked off his shoes, socks, and jeans, he climbed over Eddie with a grace he hadn’t ever seen Richie possess. His glasses had started to slide down the bridge of his narrow nose and, unconsciously, Eddie reached up to pull them off of the man above him but before he could Richie grabbed his wrist. “I wanna be able to see you, Eds,” he whispered, hot breath fanning over Eddie’s features, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Eddie felt a lump forming in his throat and pulled Richie down to press their lips together, stopping any unwanted whimpers in his throat from escaping. The kiss grew and swelled until the pair were frantically feeling each other, as if scared the other would disappear. Eddie’s hands roamed the uncharted plains of Richie’s back, running over the horizontal stretch marks that formed from his junior year growth spurt that brought him from 5’6 to over 6 foot. His nimble fingers danced up the knobs of Richie’s spine and came down over his shoulder blades while dragging his nails against his pale skin. Richie trembled as Eddie’s fingers dipped under the elastic band of Richie’s briefs, digging into the soft flesh of his ass.

 Richie shot up, Eddie’s hands still on his hips, and slid his underwear down, shucking them off of his ankles with a slight kick. Eddie’s thumbs rubbed over the protruding bone of Richie’s hip and flicked his eyes down to Richie’s erection briefly before looking back up and into the towering man's eyes. Richie leaned forward again, placing his weight down on his bony elbows and pressing his nose against Eddie’s, the smaller mans hands moving to hold Richie’s biceps. Richie’s lips softly pressed against Eddie’s again before he pulled away. 

Eddie’s legs were spread wide as Richie adjusted above him, knees bending to cage Richie’s hips while he leaned up on his elbows to chase Richie’s mouth. “Eds,” Richie said as he brought his hips down to meet Eddie’s, their erections pressed together hotly against Eddie’s pelvis. “Eds, I don’t have a-“

“I don’t care. I want you inside me,” Eddie whimpered as Richie continued to grind their cocks together. “I’m clean.”

“Eds, are you sure?”

Eddie nodded frantically, bringing one hand up to Richie’s curls and pulling him forward. Their foreheads pressed together and Eddie swallowed thickly, “I’ve never wanted anyone but you, Rich. I need you.” 

Richie’s brows furrowed and brought his hand down to his manhood, wrapping his long fingers around the base and bringing his length to press down between the soft flesh of Eddie’s ass. The head of his cock pushed against the puckered hole and Eddie dropped down from his elbows to throw an arm over his eyes and use his free hand to grip the sheets that bunched below him. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Eds.”

“Rich,” Eddie moaned, tapping Richie’s arm that continued to rub the leaking head of his cock over Eddie’s entrance. “Richie, you threw the lube somewhere.”

“Fuck,” Richie shouted as he jumped off of Eddie, the smaller man giggling as Richie ran around the bed, his pale, and surprisingly supple, ass shaking as he moved. Once Richie found the lube, he ran back over to Eddie, a smile pulling at his lips as he listened to Eddie laugh. 

For a moment, Richie felt his heart ache at the sight of Eddie. A tangled mess in the sheets of his bed, with a million dollar smile spread across his face and all the fondness and love Richie could ever hope for in his gaze. Richie felt the image settle in his heart as he climbed back over Eddie. “You’re so beautiful, Eds,” he said, free hand moving to Eddie’s cheek, “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Richie moved until his hips rested between Eddie’s thighs and buried his face in the nape of the smaller boys neck. His mouth sucked at the sensitive skin there and, with his free hand, lubed his cock to the sound of Eddie moaning beneath him.

Pressing himself against Eddie’s entrance, Richie slowly pushed his cock into Eddie and began to tremble at the feeling of warmth enveloping him. “Fuck,” Eddie moaned as Richie’s cock stretched him out and he dug his nails into the skin of the taller mans shoulders. Richie’s mouth moved from Eddie’s neck up to his jaw, kissing and licking at the soft angles of his face. 

Once Richie’s hips rested against Eddie’s, his cock fully nestled inside of the smaller man, Richie looked up to meet Eddie’s eyes, hovering above him and putting his weight on his elbows. The pair stayed silent for a moment, Eddie’s hands roamed Richie’s collarbones and neck while Richie’s gripped the loose sheet beneath him.

Eddie let out a shaking breath before moving his hips slightly, feeling the drag of Richie’s cock and whimpering. “Fuck me, Richie.”

Without hesitating, Richie pulled his hips back almost completely before slamming them back against Eddie’s, shaking the man below him with the force of it. The eruption of pleasure punched a shout out of Eddie’s chest and his cock, which rested against his pale stomach, began leaking pre-cum in rivers that flowed across his ivory skin. 

“Fuck, Ed’s,” Richie moaned, eyes squeezing shut as rivets of pleasure traveled up his spine. “Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so fucking good. Holy shit.” 

Eddie moaned and pulled Richie’s chest down to meet his as their hips met rhythmically. The smaller man was panting and letting out whines as Richie slammed into him, moving his entire body up the mattress. Slowly, Eddie’s hands travelled up to grip Richie’s unruly and sweaty hair in a vice, jerking his head to the side to meet his lips in a slick and messy kiss.

The man above him moaned and, despite the sweat covering his skin, broke out in goosebumps at the tingling sensation fluttering down from where Eddie’s hands gripped him. Richie moved his mouth from Eddie’s and trailed open mouthed kisses along his jaw and down his neck before sucking a dark purple mark into the skin his collarbone rested beneath. The pinching feeling left Eddie squirming and tears began to pool in his dark eyes, the sensation becoming too much as Richie shifted and began hitting his prostate with every thrust of his hips.

“Right there, Richie,” he yelled out, back arching to chase the feeling. “Right there, fuck me.”

Richie laughed weakly against Eddie’s shoulder and slowed his hips, “That’s kind of what I’m doing, Eds.”

Eddie moaned, freely and slack-jawed, “You fuck me so good, Rich.”

“Yeah?” Richie groaned, moving to balance on his hands to look down at Eddie as he rocked his hips into the man below him. “You like how I fuck you, baby? Nice and deep?”

Eddie nodded his head as Richie’s hand moved to cup the side of his rouge race, thumb dipping into his mouth and grazing his tongue. “Keep going, Richie. Please,” he whispered as Richie thumb moved to trace his bruised lips, “I’m so close.”

Richie began to slam his cock harder into Eddie with a steady but brutal pace, slim hips meeting the soft sides of Eddie’s thighs as the smaller man held Richie close with his legs. “I want you to cum without me touching your dick, Eddie.”

Eddie whimpered, his cock twitched while his balls ached and tensed with the need to release. The coil in his stomach tightened and, as Richie’s cock continued to meet his prostate in a brutal attack, he felt his remaining resolve start to shake, working him up as moans and tears began to flow freely from him. “Shit, Richie. Shit, I love you so much. I love you so fucking much, keep fucking me. Please, please Rich.”

Richie’s eyes squeezed shut and he felt his composure snap, his hips stuttering and his cum starting to shoot out of him and into Eddie’s warmth. “Eds, Eds, Eds,” he moaned with each thrust, “Fuck, I love you, Eds. So fucking much.”

At the feeling of Richie’s warmth and the confession falling from his lips, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and began to spill ropes of cum against his stomach and Richie’s chest, arching as Richie’s hips continued to work him through his orgasm.

The stars and lights behind Eddie’s eyes began to fade out as Richie collapsed against him and mouthed at his neck, moaning praise incoherently. Eddie’s legs, still wrapped around Richie, trapped the other man on top of him as his hands trailed along the angry red marks that marred his back.

The pair come down from their high, sweaty and sticky, wrapped in each other and the late night New York bliss. 

“Hey,” Richie whispered against his skin, still breathless, “I love you.”

Eddie felt more tears gently leak out of his eyes, hugging Richie closer to his body, “I love you, too.”

“Do you think,” Richie started, unsure of how to finish, he took a moment to think it over before huffing out a lazy laugh, “Do you think we should take that shower now?”

Eddie laughed below Richie, the force of his giggles jostling Richie. “Definitely.”

[fistsoflightning]

first lines/last lines

tagged by @to-the-voiceless! uhh note: i haven’t. properly written a scene in... six months? school has been grinding me into Dust ;w; so if you’re wondering what the context for these lines are, don’t worry! i don’t know either!

i have not been keeping track of my dash sakdkfs so if you see this take a tag! or don’t! i can’t control you!

first lines

“No daggers today?”

Thancred chuckles. “No, not today. I was thinking of practicing a skill I’d recently learned out in the field…”

A quick scan of the training weapons reveals nothing that seems close enough to a gunblade, as Thancred expected, so instead he picks up the longer of his two daggers and tests the weight. Close as he’s going to get, most likely, without rummaging about for a roegadyn-sized sword.

Zaya watches him carefully as he swings the dagger-turned-blade through the air a bit like how a gladiator might.

“If you’re telling me you picked up a sword and shield out there, I’m going to tell you you’re utterly screwed,” Zaya signs cheerfully, a smirk teasing at their mouth. “You remember what Hanami fought with during her Coliseum career, right?”

“How could I forget?” He sets the tip of his dagger down onto the tiled floor, leaning onto it as he motions with his free hand. “The sight of her bubblegum pink pigtails and the terrible galerus the criers made her wear, the ever-so-memorable scowl she’d give me anytime I went to visit you, the broken nose she gave me when I hinted that she might try to smile more…”

Zaya shushes him between giggles, waving their arms out in front of them as they smile. All the tension that was in their shoulders and tail before Thancred caught their attention seems to have melted away already. He’s a bit surprised, sure—they’d seemed awfully pissed with whomever caught their ire this moon—but not upset. Zaya’s smile is easily worth ten times the time he spends on them, regardless of whether he feels a bit like the assigned lightning-terror wrangler.

Thancred grins along with them. “What, afraid she’ll magically appear to suplex us?”

“She and Lunya are telepathic when they want to be, I swear.”

last lines (at least.... i think....?)

“I don’ wanna slip,” Zaya grumbles, hands clenching and unclenching at their sides.

“If this is something you don’t truly wish to do, I won’t force your hand.” Thancred stops wading into the cool water, turning to smile lightly at them.

“No, I… ‘s okay. Maybe.”

Thancred chuckles, raising a hand to push back his hair. “Zaya, my dear friend. I am giving you an out here. Tis alright to take it. I’ll follow you back to shore, and to wherever you might feel more at ease.”

Zaya doesn’t chuckle at his sudden bluntness, an interesting light appearing in their eyes. “You’d follow me?”

“Mm. To make sure you don’t slip, of course. I’m the one who dragged you into the water, after all—it would be rather rude if I didn’t help you back. And I did choose to dedicate my time to you, did I not?”

A breeze picks up, blowing Zaya’s bangs across their eyes. They watch him closely—a bit too closely, but it’s nothing Thancred isn’t used to. The water laps at his knees, the sea misting over to Zaya’s feet. 

“If I said I w’s goin’ somewhere dangerous,” Zaya says, barely louder than the wind and the sea crashing onto shore, “would you still come with?”

Thancred’s smile dims, the air growing heavy. “I… what?”

Zaya rubs their thumb over the knuckle of their pointer finger, cautiously glancing at the distance between themselves and Thancred. They bunch up their pants higher before wading deeper, steps careful on the slippery sand beneath their toes. Beneath the waves, the new golden cracks and pure white scales that started curling up Zaya’s leg after Storge hardly seem real.

They step into Thancred’s space, toes brushing up against his beneath the waves, and he doesn’t breathe a word.

“You know I would, for you,” Zaya hums, brushing their errant bangs behind their horn in a smooth motion. Their eyes almost seem brighter, up close, silvery blue limbal rings gleaming in Thancred’s shadow. “Would you do it too?”

Thancred takes a deep breath. 

“For you? Certainly. Gods know what you’d get up to otherwise,” he says, just loud enough to be heard over the dulled sound of waves crashing onto shore. “I believe it’s my turn to take the burnt of the damage while I await your dashing entrance to save the day, isn’t it? Can’t exactly do that if I stay behind as you continue to seek danger.”

They huff, embarrassment and satisfaction made obvious in a single noise, but their odd expression melts into something soft and warm. Their eyes glimmer as a bright grin spreads across their face, loose sideswept bangs still blowing lightly with the coastal breeze. The part of Thancred that still clings onto the comfort of old poetry and romanticism would call their grin lightning-bright and nothing short of breathtaking.

“Beautiful,” Thancred catches himself sighing, and he doesn’t even tense when Zaya’s reaction is not one of an upset nature but of interest.

Zaya pushes themselves up onto their toes, leaning their weight into his with their free hand as they say, “You’ll catch me if I fall, right?”

Thancred swallows his heartbeat, leaning down to meet Zaya halfway, and he closes his eyes as he replies:

“Always.”

Thancred’s eyes snap open in his bed at the Crystarium. Somehow, he feels like a liar for something he never said.

(For something he never got the chance to say.)