#follow on in test cricket

[indianfasttrack]

follow on rules: Jadeja holds firm even as Cummins' strike threatens India

Australia persisted in its efforts to secure a win in the Brisbane Test during a shortened second session on the fourth day. Only 13.2 overs were played between Lunch and Tea, during which India scored 34 runs but lost Nitish Reddy. The visitors remain 45 runs short of the target that would require Australia to bat again, a scenario they hope will consume additional time as they aim to salvage…

[the-busy-ghost]

Irregular bit of cricket-posting for the two and a half mutuals interested on this website, none of them likely to be online at the moment, and also on the offchance I convert a bored dash-scroller.

The first test match ever staged in Northern Ireland is being played at the moment. Northern Ireland is largely represented at a test level by an Cricket Ireland, so this is an all-Ireland team involving players from both the Republic and the North. They are currently playing Zimbabwe at Stormont in Belfast.

Although I have recently become a big TMS fan and therefore have England vs the West Indies blaring on the radio, I know that it's possible to follow the score on the BBC here. But if anyone knows any local radio that's covering it, would love to know.

[fazcinatingblog]

Big thanks to the stars for a great season, once they got over their one mcg game against scorchies, they were on the road, travelling from place to place by all means of transport, Maxi and his travelling circus of misfit freaks, until they hit the wall by returning to Melbourne, going their separate ways to the hotel and

[lovelytsunoda]

domesticated | oscar piastri

summary: yn comes back from a business trip to find her boyfriend doing the laundry. naturally, it’s this smidge of domesticity that makes her want to jump his bones

pairing: oscar piastri x girlfriend!reader

warnings: 18+, sex in a laundry room (and up against a laundry machine), men that pull their weight around the household are sexy as fuck!

the house was quiet when she came home. almost too quiet.

she left her tumi suitcase by the door, taking off her shoes and blazer before making her way through the foyer.

"oscar?" she called. "babe, i'm back. my flight landed early!"

she and oscar hadn't been living together for long, maybe six months at the absolute maximum. her five-day business trip to the other side of the country had been the longest that the young lovers had spent apart since they had moved in together.

the living room was empty, despite the flat screen tv playing a cricket match to the empty space. there was a mug of tea on the end table, half full and still warm.

"osc?" she called again, drumming her fingers against the wall. where could her boyfriend possibly be?

she could hear vibrations coming from deeper inside the house, a loud rattling, more like. she followed the noise to the laundry room, where she found oscar sitting on the tiled floor, surrounded by piles of laundry, the washing machine rattling away behind him. he had his headphones in, head bopping to whatever it was that he found helped him focus.

she knocked loudly on the door, heart jumping when he looked up at her with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

"hey, baby!" he said excitedly, stumbling over a pile of t-shirts on the ground. "you're back!"

he kissed her softly, hands coming to rest at her waist. "how was the conference?"

"a waste of time." she hummed, pulling him in closer. "what i really want to talk about is your laundry skills."

"oh yeah?" oscar grinned, nodding towards the piles on the floor. "i live here too, i should pull my weight. my race suits are dry clean only, but everything else can go in the machine. i've developed a system."

she raised an eyebrow, but couldn't deny how sexy it was that oscar wasn't afraid of a little bit of housework. "you have, have you?"

"yeah, do you want me to explain it?"

"actually, i would much rather you fuck me against the washing machine."

and who was oscar to disagree?

that's how she found herself pushed up against a running laundry machine, naked from the waist down. her legs were wrapped tightly around oscar's lower half, his sweatpants lying forgotten ono the floor and he kissed up her neck, teasing her entrance with the tip of his throbbing cock.

"christ, babe. you're this wet already?"

"missed you." she hummed, kissing him gently. "that's all."

"well, we can't have that, can we?"

he slid inside with one swift movement, filling her to the brim. he muttered a curse, face buried in her neck as he got settled. all he could feel was her: her warmth, the smoothness of her thighs as she drew him closer, the softness of the skin on her neck, the beating of her heart.

she was everything he could have ever wanted and more.

"fuck me, oscar. please."

keeping in time with the rhythmic churning of the washing machine behind her, oscar's thrusts started out slow but firm, testing the waters. her gentle moans and whimpers were music to his ears, and he bit back a few grunts of his own as he slipped in and out of her warm and welcoming pussy.

"oh, yes. right there, baby. fuck, you fill me so well." she moaned, head thrown back as she rolled her hips in time with oscar's movements.

"that's right, darling. keep taking my cock like a fucking champ."

"faster, oscar." she whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. "faster."

he kissed her hurriedly, delivering a few more teasing and languid thrusts of his cock before pulling out and slamming back inside. the scream of pleasure she let out was positively delightful, followed by desperate pleas of 'more' and 'kiss me'.

which, of course, oscar was all too happy to oblige.

her body was curled around his, her aching nipples pressing against her lacy bra and showing through the flimsy white dress shirt she was wearing. oscar was transfixed by the sight as her breasts bounced with the effort of his thrusts, pushing her against the machine with each feral pound.

"yes, baby." he grunted. "just let me take care of you." one hand gently tugged at her hair, the other braced on the countertop. the sounds of his balls hitting her skin was almost as loud as the noise the washing machine was making,

"fuck, oscar, i'm so close! wanna come on your thick cock." she pleaded, marking the skin underneath the collar of his white shirt. a shirt that was now completely soaked through with sweat.

"yeah? are you that pent up, baby? you were only gone for five days. you know i'm coming with you next time, right? i mean, my hand can only do so much. it doesn't cuddle with me, or kiss me softly, or smell like fresh vanilla-"

"oscar!" she squealed as he thrusted hard enough to send her body shotting upwards towards the bottom of the hanging cabinet. her fingers scrabbled for purchase, limply clinging to the door handle.

"right, okay." oscar grunted. "i've got you, sweet girl. come on, give it to me. give it to me, angel."

she came with a cry, her body curling around his. this was always the part where she felt the most emotional, and the most vulnerable. oscar pulled her close, running his hands up and down his arms while he tried to gently thrust through it.

“atta girl. you’re so good, baby. I love you so much.”

“you didn’t finish.” she whispered softly, licking her lips.

oscar grinned. “baby, I’ve got gas left in the tank like you wouldn’t believe. what do you say we go to the bedroom and you let me show you just how much I missed you?”

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 — 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞?

minors/ageless blogs please DNI.

REBLOGS are important. please reblog to share/save.

| 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 |

It's the worst day you've had in a while.

Each of your classes dragged entirely too long, leaving you glancing at the clock only to find mere minutes had passed since the last time you'd checked.

Then, on the way to the courtyard where you planned to sit in the sun and relax, you'd dropped your lunch. The contents of your takeout container had created a truly heartbreaking splatter across the pavement, and then you hadn't even had enough cash left on you to buy anything else, so you'd had to settle for munching on the bruised apple at the bottom of your bookbag.

And, after an already exhausting morning had tested the strength of your sanity, you had your scheduled office hours in the afternoon. Said meeting was with one of your least favorite professors to discuss an upcoming term paper, and the hour spent in his stuffy office had proved to be grueling and overall unhelpful, which only resulted in you biking home from campus sporting a decidedly bad mood to pair with your rumbling stomach and the beginnings of a stress headache.

When you finally collapse face-first onto your bed a few hours later and release a little scream into your pillow, the sound of it is muffled into no more than a quiet cry. Through the smothering cotton, you fight to pull in a steadying breath, if only so that you might have enough air in your lungs to scream in frustration again.

The sky outside is dark, crickets creating a loud symphony in the distance, and the breeze coming in through your window brings goosebumps along the backs of your thighs where the baggy tshirt you've chosen for pajamas has rucked up to settle in the curve of your spine. The cool air meets your flushed skin like a blanket of ice, your body still warm from a shower in which you'd spent a little longer than usual beneath a cloud of steam and hot water in a failed attempt at releasing some of the lingering tension from the day — But even an extra few minutes breathing in the aromatics of your body wash clinging to the steam-thickened air wasn't enough to settle you. The irritating buzz of the stress still made itself known underneath your skin, the itch of it making your body feel just a little too tight for all of the frustration building up inside.

You can't even find it in you to flinch at the sound of something scrabbling at your bedroom windowsill, nor do you lift your head at the small crash and thump that follow a few seconds later. There's a small rustling of fabric and limbs, shoes thumping against the baseboard as they're kicked off, what you assume is the sound of your backpack being placed back where you'd thrown it on the cushioned bench beneath the window when you'd first gotten home.

There's a moment of silence as Stiles drinks in the sight of you. Hungry eyes rake across every inch of your exposed skin, trailing the length of your legs up to where they meet the supple curve of your ass, and with the way your shirt has bunched up underneath your belly, the soft skin of your backside is hidden from him only by your underwear. He spares a second to admire how the pretty fabric clings to your flesh, the cut high and revealing on the cheeks of your ass.

It takes a few slow seconds for him to reorient his thoughts to something slightly less salacious, but after an audible breath, he manages.

“Are you..? Hey.. 're you sleeping?” Stiles' voice comes out a little incredulous but still hushed, as if he's actually worried about waking you in case you truly had somehow slept through the cacophony of noise he'd caused when he climbed in through the window.

You only give a pitiful whine into your pillow in response, feet kicking a little petulantly as you finally roll to face him to reveal the lack of sleep in your eyes, “Scott isn't home,” You tell him weakly, voice still a little smothered by your pillow, “You coulda jus' come in through the front door.”

Stiles is at the edge of the bed already, kneeling on the mattress and making to join you now that he knows you aren't asleep. He looks deliciously soft, gray sweats hanging low on his hips, his sweatshirt already stripped away in a heap on your bedroom floor to leave him in a cozy-looking tshirt, the fabric of it soft with wear.

“Where's the fun in that?” Stiles asks with a quiet laugh, urging you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning. His weight settles atop your body and his nose nuzzles into the softness of your breasts over your shirt as he burrows his face into the space between them.

He's so warm. Body heat is quick to seep out from his clothes and through your own with the way he's settled heavily on top of you. It's all a little smothering, the way that his weight is making it a bit hard to breathe, your lungs not quite able to get a full inhale — but it's also grounding, the heavy blanket of warmth he provides managing to alleviate just a little bit of your anxiety.

“One of these days you're gonna hurt yourself, or worse, you might break something of mine with a flailing limb when you inevitably trip and come tumbling through the window,” You tease weakly, pinching your eyes shut as you try to push away that lingering tightness in your chest, “I'm serious. You're gonna break something and I really hope it isn't your face.”

Your fingers come up to tangle in his hair and he hums in appreciation, a content grumble rising in his throat as he settles his cheek onto the plushness of your breast like it's his own personal pillow.

His hand slips down your thigh, fingers blindly drawing little patterns around the top of your knee as he scoffs, “Oh, real exciting. Yeah, next time I'll just use the front door, like some kind of common loser. As if.”

“You are a loser.” You say quietly, the small smile in your voice not quite managing to hide the discontented sigh that slips out as your mind wanders back to the events of the day.

Stiles pushes up onto his elbows at the edge in your voice and your hands fall from his head with the movement. He frowns as his big brown eyes flick over your face in scrutiny, “What’s wrong?” He asks immediately, long brows drawn together as his lip juts out in a pout of concern.

Your eyes fall shut again and you give his biceps a squeeze even as your nose scrunches up, “Just.. Stressed. Had a really shitty day.”

He hums in understanding, sitting up to settle on his knees between your legs and draping your thighs over his own, big hands slipping underneath your hips to rub at the base of your spine. You let out a little noise of appreciation at the rough dig of his fingers massaging the muscles there, hips lifting up from the mattress just a little to give him more room.

“Oh, you like that?”

He's teasing, you know he is, but the way his grip on you tightens, the way his fingers press into the fat of your thighs so that he can tug you just a bit higher up on his own lap — it makes your breath hitch. Your sleep shirt has bunched up just above your navel and it leaves your panties exposed from the way your ass has settled over him. Your body is tilted at an angle, your hips in the air with how he's propped you up on his thighs while your knees press in on either side of his waist.

One of his hands leaves your spine to give the soft dough of your thigh a squeeze before making a slow trail up, settling his palm over the thin cotton at the apex of your thighs. His thumb presses down softly against your clit through the fabric and Stiles watches intently as you let out a breathy sigh when he draws a slow circle against you.

You still haven't dignified him with an answer, opting to pinch your lips together as his thumb slips down a little further to press into the wetness that's begun to soak through the fabric, his finger dipping in and pushing cotton into your opening with it.

“Need me to make you feel better, honey? 's that it?” Stiles asks. The grin in his voice is audible, but when you blink your eyes open to get a good look, you find him peering down at you with awe and hunger swimming in his eyes. When he catches your gaze, the corners of his lips pull up a little more and his thumb moves back to rub at your clit over your underwear, “Need me to make you a little stupid? Huh? Work some of that stress outta your head?”

Your jaw has gone a little slack with the way he's circling your bud with easy drags, knowing exactly how much pressure to use and what angle feels the best and- He asked you a question — What had been the question?

“Huh?” You ask quietly, the sound half a question and half lost to the moan working it's way up your throat.

The smile on Stiles' face goes soft and he leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, right at the corner of your mouth. Your lips purse and your chin tips up in an attempt to meet him, but he's already leaning back so that he can watch the drag of his finger over your panties.

“You going stupid on me already, baby? I've barely gotten started.”

The circles he's been drawing slow, growing unhurried and leisurely. The movement of his thumb is agonizingly slow now and you huff in frustration and cant your hips up in a silent demand.

“Stiles.” You plead simply.

“Alright, alright,” He laughs, leaning in to press one quick kiss to your mouth before he begins to make his way further down, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and neck in his wake, “Settle down. I got you.”

He makes a small detour at your chest to bunch your tshirt up at your collarbones, exposing your tits so that he can leave a cluster of bites to the supple flesh. You gasp at the sharper bites, keening a little, but he's already peppering kisses over the abused skin and moving farther down. His tongue dips out between his lips, the warm wetness making you squirm a bit as he moves in a slow line down your stomach. Lower, lower. When he reaches the waistband of your panties, he hooks his fingers under the fabric and pulls just a little, exposing the sliver of sensitive skin just above your patch of trimmed curls. You gasp again at the sharp sting of his teeth when they scrape harshly over your hipbones and your hips lift up again on instinct.

Stiles takes pity on you and finally eases your underwear down your thighs. The tension is broken for a brief moment as he struggles to coax the fabric past your knees and around your ankles without dislodging you from his lap, a small huff of laughter escaping you when he curses quietly.

He rids you of the article but immediately brings your ankle up to nip at your foot in reprimand, pushing your thigh up against your stomach with the movement.

“You gonna behave?” He asks while he curls his fingers around your ankle.

“Mhm.” Your hum and the small nod of your head are paired with a coy smile.

“See, I don't know if I believe you,” Stiles says with a small laugh and an absentminded peck to your skin, his teeth scraping the bottom of your calf with his grin as he does so, “You've got that look in your eye.”

“What look?” You question curiously, a little lightheaded with the way his lips press a small line of kisses from the top of your foot all the way up to your shin and then back down again.

“The look that says you're feelin' a little bratty.” He tells you.

You scoff in indignation and his teeth nip at your ankle bone again, successful in cutting the sound off before you can say anything to the contrary.

“You gonna let me take care of you, or what?” He asks seriously, eyebrows raising a little as he fixes you with a stern look.

You nod and your eyes go a little wide at the tone of his voice, your cunt clenching with the flash of warmth that rushes down your spine.

“Good girl.” Stiles murmurs with a grin, already beginning to kiss a slow trail up from your ankle. His lips press into your skin in an irregular pattern of teeth and tongue, briefly broken up with gentle pecks as he makes his way up the length of your leg toward your naked cunt.

As he finally reaches his destination, he urges the bend of your knees over his shoulders, your legs framing his head nicely as he dips to press an agonizingly gentle kiss to your clit. You fight the jolt in your hips, making an effort to keep your muscles taught, but then he does it again, his lips parting just enough to nudge the little bud with the tip of his tongue, and you're lifting toward him without really meaning to.

“Sorry, sorry.” You're apologizing breathlessly before he can scold you, fingers curling into the duvet as you settle your hips against the mattress again.

“Atta girl.”

He kisses your clit gently again and you bite back a whine at the soft press of lips against you. His wide palms run up and down the outside of your thighs and he turns his head to where your legs are draped over his shoulders to suck softly at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh. Your brows furrow at the sting of the bruise he's leaving there but you manage to stay still and the praise he murmurs against your skin in return makes your head feel a little light.

Another small series of kisses mark his path back to where you want him most and his voice is quiet as it reaches your ears, “No more stress babe. You know I got you, right?”

“Mhm.” You agree quickly, fingers tightening around the blankets in anticipation.

“Good. Good..”

And then his mouth is on you again and you find it a little hard to breathe. He doesn't ease into it, there are no teasing licks up the length of your folds nor are there anymore agonizingly gentle kisses. His mouth closes around your clit, sucking softly, tongue laving over the bud before he's sucking again.

A weak little cry pushes its way out of you, another coming just a moment later when Stiles scrapes his teeth against you gently as he works, his tongue quick to sooth over the sensitive nub in apology. He kisses your clit like he can't get enough, licking and leaving wet little pecks only to close his lips around it again a second later.

Minutes pass. Your mouth doesn't even close between moans anymore, lips permanently parted to let out a near-constant stream of tiny whines and breathy gasps and desperate whimpers. Your whole body feels like a live-wire. The nonstop stimulation to your most sensitive muscle leaves you teetering on the edge of something earth-shattering despite it not actually managing to peak yet.

“F-ffuck,” You manage to get out, lips trembling as you look down and catch sight of the way Stiles is devouring you, the dim lamplight creating golden patches in the dark locks of his hair, his head bobbing as he works. “Stiles.. St-Stiles! 's.. 's so g-fuuck.. 's so good-”

He doesn't slow, nor does he glance up at your first real words since he started, sheer determination pushing him to continue at the same brain-melting pace.

His teeth catch against you again and you gasp sharply, the sound tearing from your dry throat as your hand shoots up to grab a fistful of his hair.

“J-jesus, nngh- God! Stiles-”

Your back arches of its own accord, hips canting toward his mouth as another choked sound drags its way out of your throat. You feel like you could come any second — have felt a little like you might come any second for the past ten minutes at least — and it's making everything a little fuzzy around the edges. Your shower-damp hair is cool against your flushed skin when you tip your head to the side against the pillows while warmth creeps along your neck and spreads down your spine. It crawls all the way to your toes as your eyes pinch shut, fighting to hide the way that they're starting to cross embarrassingly from the pleasure.

“Fuck,” You whine with a stuttered breath at the feeling of his lips closing around you again, sucking so delicately at your sensitive bud, tongue rolling against it softly within the suction of his mouth. “Fuckfuckfuuucck-”

He finally gives you a small response, a quiet, noncommittal hum that rumbles through your cunt and has your hips spasming with a thrum of pleasure. Stiles brings one hand from where it had been drawing absentminded patterns along the length of your thigh and drops it to rest over your torso instead. He firmly pushes your hips back down without ever slowing his skillful mouth and you can't hold back a quiet whimper as you're immobilized, the restless movement transferring almost immediately into a tremble in your thighs and stomach, the muscles beneath quivering and jumping under your skin.

His palm is warm and heavy where the weight of it is spread over your ribs. The width of his hand has his fingers curling around your waist while his thumb begins to drag back and forth over your tummy in long, smooth strokes. His soothing touch is a tether in the dark and you cling to it desperately, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair as you grapple for something to keep you steady amidst what's beginning to feel a little like it might be a constant, never ending orgasm.

A noise rips from you so choked off that it sounds a bit like it might've been punched out of your chest and your hips jump again. The shakes in your thighs and stomach seem to spread, your whole body beginning to quake throughout stuttered breaths that might actually be sobs.

It's then that Stiles finally peers up at you, brown eyes meeting your own and taking in the mess you've become under his minstrations. He still doesn't pause, doesn't slow, but he does raise his eyebrows in silent question as his fingertips dig into the doughy flesh at your waist.

You don't manage more than a garbled, “Yes!”

Your free hand grabs ahold of his forearm with an iron grip and a few tears actually break free and fall back into your hair when the warm fog creeps impossibly further across your body, clouding what little remained of the blurred edges of your mind. Any shreds of lucidity are gone as your eyes roll back with a high keening moan. Your hips stutter wildly now, thighs tightening around Stiles of their own accord as your never-ending orgasm seems to finally crest and send you hurtling over the edge that you've been dragging on for so long.

It's possible you black out. The next thing you become aware of is Stiles pressing loud, smacking kisses to your pelvis, the insides of your thighs, your belly and ribs, his lips are gentle against your skin as the soft sound of the kisses breaks through the fog in your head. By the time he settles on top of you, hands slipping beneath your sweat-slicked shoulders to rest his weight on his elbows underneath you, the heavy beat of your heart is a loud echo in your ears.

He's wiped his face off at some point, but his swollen lips still glisten lightly from the time spent between your thighs as you pant warm breaths against his mouth. The cool smugness that Stiles had worn before is gone and now he looks at you with nothing but adoration, chocolate brown blinking down at you as if, even flushed and sticky with sweat, you might be the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

You intend to bring a hand up to fix the wild tufts of his hair where your hands made a home earlier, but your arm feels entirely too heavy when you lift it and you hardly manage more than a brush of your fingers over his cheek before your hand falls limply to the pillow beneath your head. Stiles chuckles softly at your attempt and tangles his fingers with your own, dipping his head to press a few playful kisses to your cheeks and the tip of your nose until you reward him with a breathless laugh.

“You okay?” He checks quietly, thumb stroking over the side of your own, “Wasn't too much was it?”

“Okay,” You assure him, “Very, very okay.”

The way his sweatpants rub against your naked legs is soft when he readjusts, manhandling you onto your side so he can wrap you up in his embrace, the quilt from the end of the bed being draped over you as he settles in. His arms go around your shoulders and you curl your own around his back in return, your nose pushing into the warmth of his chest as your body continues to come down.

“Hey,” You murmur into his shirt, craning your head back to look up at him and tangling your bare legs with his as you continue, “You're big-spooning me. 'm usually big spoon.”

“Yeah. Not tonight your not.” He says easily, wide palm dragging soft up and down in the space between your shoulder blades.

His hips unconsciously nudge forward just a little and you feel the warm stiffness of his neglected cock against your hip, erection straining against his sweats where he's pressed against you. It makes you gasp almost comically.

“Wha'bout you?” You mumble in sleepy realization, batting your eyes with heavy blinks in an attempt to keep sleep from claiming you.

“Don't worry about me, alright? Seriously, I'll just jerk off in the shower later,” He tells you, fondness in his voice, “Now shut up and let me hold you.”

You hum, burrowing back into his chest contentedly, “Yes, sir.”

A quiet groan meets your ears as the soothing motions of his hand stutters, “None of that, come on.” Stiles huffs quietly, voice laced with self-deprecating laughter, “I know you know you're gonna get me worked up sayin' shit like that.”

You did know that.

Your lips pull into a grin, brain lax and floaty and sleepy. Your arms tighten around him for a moment before relaxing again, “Sorry.”

He grumbles something to the contrary as your eyes slip closed, your body finally free of the tight-coiled tension that had followed you around like a shadow all day.

Stiles Stilinski is loud and weird and passionate to degree that's concerning at times. He's bumbling and he's awkward, often to the point of it being a little adorable and entirely endearing, but then he still always manages to surprise you — With his eagerness to please. With the way he can shift into something else, someone else entirely, behind closed doors. Just for you.

That night, wrapped up in the arms of your brother's best friend you realize that, at some point along the way, after all this time, he might very well have become your best friend too. And finally, feeling warm and safe and cared for, you find yourself slipping into a blissful sleep.

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭? 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐩𝐮𝐭! — 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 🤍

again, REBLOGS are important.

please have the curtesy to reblog to share/save.

[daisynik7]

test drive

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one.  Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, do you think we should break up?”

The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”

It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?

You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”

He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”

“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?” 

He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive. 

“It’s not going to be easy.”

He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”

You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him. 

Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”

He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.

“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”

You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it. 

“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?

“Eren,” you beg, sniffling

“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze. 

“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”

“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.

That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. 

The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse. 

It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now. 

That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago. 

Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s. 

Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.

Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you. 

You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed. 

So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on. 

The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his. 

The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead? 

Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.

He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time. 

As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you. 

You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”

This is going to be harder than you thought. 

~~~

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years. 

Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever. 

It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on. 

Move on. Yeah right.

He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted? 

He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.

When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out. 

What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan. 

When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan. 

He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot. 

She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected. 

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”

She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”

He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself. 

She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”

“Yup.”

She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”

He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”

He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?” 

Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?

She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”

“Still the passenger princess, I see.” 

“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors. 

He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is 

Fuck the plan. 

~~~

You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed. 

He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.

He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak. 

Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”

You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. 

After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you. 

When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”

He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”

The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”

“I never wanted to in the first place.”

Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”

“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.” 

His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you. 

You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”

He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.  

“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair. 

“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”

“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”

Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”

He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”

Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”

Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”

You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”

Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”

He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”

Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”

“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip. 

You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”

You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him. 

You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine. 

“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more. 

“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”

It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face. 

“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking. 

Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”

He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance. 

You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.

“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression. 

“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose. 

“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”

You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”

You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”

He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”

“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”

He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”

“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.

“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours. 

“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”

He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

[mommageto]

Domestic Hashira (Himejima Gyomei x Reader)

Title: Domestic Hashira (Himejima Gyomei x Reader)

Word Count:  2120 words

Description: (Y/n) and Gyomei navigating the unfamiliar territory of an arranged marriage. 

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"He shall arrive shortly," Amane mumbled as she sat beside you. You took a deep breath and assured yourself that you had prepared yourself for this day. Being a distant relative of Kagaya Ubuyashiki, you were destined to marry and expected to produce an heir. Thus, you knew this marriage was not from a love match but rather an arranged marriage to ensure the heirs of your bloodline of any curses. Ever since you lost both of your parents at an early age, it did feel lonely, only having distant relatives around you. A part of you was nervous about meeting the man you to spend your life with. You were embellished with a beautiful wedding garment and patiently waiting for the man you are bound to marry. There were little to no expectations for your husband to be, but rather a kind man at the very least. 

The door opened, and Kagaya Ubuyashiki came in, followed by a huge man who towered at seven foot two, with spiky dark hair, and was covered with numerous crimson mala beads. A horizontal scar on his forehead and pale white eyes also allowed you to be surprised at the appearance of the man. "Shall we start with the ceremony?" Ubuyashiki asked. Both of them made their way near you. Ubuyashiki found his way to sit on the opposite side of Amane, as the stranger you ought to marry sat beside you. However, you noticed his manners as he acknowledged your presence by bowing to you as he was sitting beside you.

The man is enormous, very huge. This idea of him scared you a little, but you were not one to judge a stranger you were about to spend your life with. However, he was attractive and unfamiliar. After the ceremony, both of you exchanged a word with each other. Although Amane has filled you in with everything you need to know about your husbands. Himejima Gyomei–that is his name–is the stone hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps. Though you are an Ubuyashiki, you were least involved with the Demon Slayer Corps as you were a distant relative and did other duties for the family.

The information you got made you think that the man you married must be powerful as he is the strongest hashira. However, Amane never talked about how he is as a person; she focused on his qualifications, which only enabled you to hope that he is indeed a kind man.

Both of you were brought to your household to start your family. As you arrived at your shared home, you found it a bit awkward considering he is a stranger. Nevertheless, you were taught to be a wife and ought to pursue a conversation with him to properly tend to your husband.  The silence after you both spoke at the same time stretched, punctuated only by the chirping of crickets outside. You stole a glance at Gyomei, his face unreadable beneath the stoic mask. Clearing your throat, you decided to take the plunge.

"I–" both of you uttered and cut off each other. "I apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt. Please, go ahead," Himejima continues. A short silence occurred between the both of you. 

"Hiimejim–" he cuts you off before you can finish, "Gyomei. You can call me Gyomei." A light flickered in your eyes as you stared at him with awe.

"Gyomei," you repeated, testing the name on your lips. He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Shall we enter?" you ask him. He gave you a sly nod and led you to enter the house you shared with him first. As you entered, the servants greeted you both and toured you around your home. They also had prepared a separate bath for you and your husband before you met each other for dinner. 

In the bath, you pondered about the things you've observed to be quite beguiling about your husband. You admit to yourself that you feel attracted to Himejima. That man had intimidating features that portrayed a very masculine form of a man. Despite your first impression, you can tell that Himejima has a compassionate nature. He was kind and respectful to the servants who greeted you both earlier. There's still more you want to know about him, and getting to know him will surely scratch that itch. 

Dinner was served afterward in your bath. You and your husband finished your meal with a small conversation about how your meal was delicious. Though, the night is still long–or feels like it. Both of you entered the chambers of your shared bedroom. It felt awkward being alone with Himejima. Although both of you are married, both of you are also still strangers who barely met each other just this morning. You saw the bedding in the room, and it made you feel nervous about sleeping next to him, which caused you to breathe heavily, allowing the giant man to hear. "(Y/n) I could sleep in another room if it makes you feel better," you hear Himejima say.  

Himejima's offer hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words. On his face, you can see his genuine concern matched with the intimidating aura he always has. It was a gesture of respect, a recognition of your discomfort. "N-no… it's fine. You don't have to do that," you assured him.

The two of you settled on sleeping in the same room. Thus, peacefully set up your sleeping area not far away from each other but also not near each other. It was challenging to be asleep at that hour, as you were clouded with a number of emotions and new to this setup. The anxious feeling of sleeping with a man you just met today lingered in your thoughts. You didn't know what to do at this point but to sleep as it was getting late anyway. "Good night (y/n)."

"Good night, Gyomei." His words made you feel better as you still felt new to this situation. A simple good night makes you more comfortable with this arrangement. You got to sleep shortly after that. The dawn of time passed, and you heard noises and slightly opened your eyes, wherein you saw shadows. However, due to your thoughts depriving you of sleep the previous night, you gave in to yourself and slept through the dawn. 

As you rose from the bed, you noticed the room was tranquil. There was no sound of movement or the faintest whisper. You looked around your room and noticed that the bed beside you was nowhere to be seen. The absence of Himejima's towering figure was both comforting and unsettling. You went to the kitchen and were greeted by the servants who informed you that your husband was called on early for a mission. This made you feel disappointed because you wanted to get to know Himejima and spend time with him. 

The servants informed you that Himejima had to leave early for an urgent mission with a demon attack on a neighboring village. It's been three days without the presence of your husband near you. This made you feel lonely despite having people around your home. Not a day goes by that you do not have the same routine. After eating your breakfast alone, you decided to pay Amane a visit to ease that lonely feeling.

"(Y/n), how was your first night with Himejima-san?" she asks as she sits down beside you. You took a pause and tried to hold back from being honest with yourself. "It was alright, I was able to sleep comfortably after yesterday."

Amane was able to read the misery drawn in your face. She did not feel too good about this, so she questioned you more. "Are you sure it was alright? You seem to be tired and sorrowful."

"Oh, no, it's really fine." She wasn't convinced by your answer. "I hope Himejima-san was gentle, to say the least."

This shattered a glass of ideas. Amane was thinking of a different scenario for you to spend your first night with Himejima. "What? No! It's nothing like that. We didn't do it." You were defensive about it, and you could feel your face heat up despite it being just the two of you in the room.

The response you gave Amane surprised her. The idea of a newlywed couple spending the first night with each other in a venereal manner was pretty typical. Though you've never really thought about it yo,u and Himejima quickly dismissed that possibility rather quickly.

"(Y/n), have you and Himejima ever had an actual conversation about your marriage, to say the least?" Amane questions you. Now that question has been raised, you never really have thought about it. "We barely said a word to each other, and the other morning, he left for an urgent mission."

"Is that so? While I do not encourage you to force yourself on Himejima, you both should have a conversation about your marriage with him. Since you're gonna spend the rest of your life with him."

Amane's words struck your head from the moment she mentioned it to you until your journey home. One of the servants, Chiaki, approached to welcome you home. "Welcome back, my lady," she slightly bows, "Would you care to join Himejima-san for dinner?" 

Chiaki's words caught your attention. As you walked inside your house, you felt a sudden pain in your stomach and had an urge to vomit. Your vision was less clear–it was shaky. Another body pain hit you, you felt the pain reach your temples and your calves. However, you manage to get to the dining area.

The heavy wooden table creaked slightly under the weight of the untouched meal. You sat opposite Himejima with your face pale and drawn. You covered your mouth with haste as you felt the urge to vomit again. Himejima, with his other perfect senses, noticed that you didn't feel okay. 

"Is everything alright (y/n)?" he asks, trying to reach out to help you. Himejima could clearly tell that your body had collapsed on the ground. His robust frame moved with surprising speed as he reached you, his large hands gently cradling your head. Concern etched itself onto his face as he assessed your condition.

A throbbing pain pulsed in your temples, and a wave of nausea washed over you. Your vision blurred as consciousness slowly returned. With effort, your eyes opened, the world coming into focus gradually. You were in your bed, the soft glow of lanterns casting dancing shadows on the walls. Himejima was seated beside you, his face etched with worry. 

"Gyomei," you call out his name. "What happened?"

A relief from Himejima can be felt as he lifts his head with his softened face and relaxed face. "(Y/n), you're awake," he replied. "A demon followed you and attacked you secretly with its poison." Your head throbbed with a dull ache as you tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You reached out a trembling hand to steady yourself on the bed.

"A demon?" you managed to croak out, your voice hoarse. 

"Yes, a demon. Thankfully, I was able to take home an antidote for the demon's poison." You listened to Himejima's words with an understanding, even though there was still a slight concern on his face. "I apologize that I got you into this trouble. Being married to me only caused you trouble." A wave of empathy washed over you as you watched Himejima's tears fall. Gyomei is known to be the strongest hashira with his immense strength. Still, at this moment, vulnerability replaced his usual composure.

"Gyomei," you reached out, your hand finding his, offering comfort. "It wasn't your fault. These things happen." Your voice was gentle, filled with sincerity. 

"It was also my responsibility for not being here to protect you," he explained, his voice husky with emotion. His grip on your hand tightened, conveying a depth of remorse you hadn't expected. "Well, we're here together now," you say to him with a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you try to lighten the mood.

"Let's start over, (y/n)," he reached out to you and kissed your forehead. A warmth spread through you as his lips touched your skin. It was a simple gesture, yet it held a profound weight. You returned his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. It felt like an answered prayer from a yearning heart. That forehead kiss is a lingering faith of the couple for their relationship to bloom.

This story has a Part 2.

[yanderes-galore]

I HOPE IM NOT TOO LATE I WAS BUSY BECAUSE OF MY BIRTHDAY 💔

may i please request a low honor arthur morgan scenario where he's acting selfish with darling and one night, he forces them to stay in camp (as always) but darling follows him to see that he kills someone for them?

IF I MISSED THE REQEST HOUR YOU DONT HAVE TO ACCEPT THIS!

Happy late birthday! (Again). Here's Arthur Morgan being corrupt :)

Disobedience

Yandere! Low Honor! Arthur Morgan Scenario/Short

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Murder, Blood, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Forced companionship/relationship.

"I want you to sit still and wait for me to come back, think you can do that?"

Arthur's orders were always commanding. When he asks you to do something, he expects you to do it. If he tells you to stay in camp... He's expecting you to do it.

But curiosity killed the cat, right?

Arthur was never a real kind man. He was always gruff, easily irritated, sadistic, vengeful, selfish... The list could go on. You had always learned since crossing paths with Arthur that he's a dangerous force to be reckoned with.

Even being a fellow gang member with him makes your skin crawl. He's one of the most infamous killers in the West. It didn't matter if Arthur was fond of you or not... There were still times he scares you.

Arthur telling you to stay in camp wasn't new. While he wasn't close or helped most of the members, he always claimed it was better than following him. However, you always had a feeling of what he was doing.

Crickets chirped through the night as you sat by the fire. Arthur had left ten minutes ago and told you to stay where you were. You were used to it... He's done it so often at this point.

But you couldn't ignore the screaming.

Tonight was... different. Of course Arthur typically went out at night to rob some poor fool or some other task. But... screaming was new.

You carefully get up from the fire and look into the woods. It sounded male and panicked. Your immediate thought was an animal which made you unholster your rifle.

Your thoughts go back to what Arthur said, don't leave camp. You thought over your choices before deciding you could excuse this. If it was to save someone... He couldn't get too mad, right?

Carefully, gun in hand, you enter the woods around camp. The screaming and whimpering got louder as you approached... a gruff voice soon followed afterwards. You squint your eyes, seeing two men in the woods

One happened to be on his knees, the other holding a fist in the air.

"You should learn not to test my patience, boy." A rough yet familiar voice growls as the younger man whimpers. "You think I don't know what you're doing?"

"Please, sir! I won't do it again! I had no idea they were with you!" The younger man pleads, making you come a bit closer. The most light you got was from the moon trickling through the trees.

Yet soon you could tell the scenes in front of you.

Arthur was bloody, the substance staining his clothes and gloved hand as he threatened a younger man. Said younger man looked to be around your age, in fact... you think you remembered him at a saloon you went to. Except... Arthur was never there when you went and met such a man.

"Damn right you won't." Arthur growls, moving his bloody hand to his revolver. "Do you think you're better than me, boy? Swooping in to steal from me because you're younger?"

"No, sir! I didn't know! I've learned my lesson! Swear on it!" The younger man pleads. You stare at the scene, mind dwelling back on where you met this man.

You had gone to a saloon to relax after a mission. Arthur had disappeared again but you knew better than to ask where. It's then you found a man around your age and chatted to him over a drink. Occasionally there was some flirtation... but you always turned him down.

It appears Arthur found out about this... and you hated to think about how.

"You'll learn your lesson alright... in Hell." Arthur growls, quickly pulling his revolver out. Before you know it, the trigger is pulled, and the man you barely knew gurgles before falling to the forest floor. It's then you manage to gasp...

It's then Arthur's alerted to your presence.

"... Thought I told you to stay in camp, darling." Arthur sighs, holstering his bloody revolver as he approaches. You back up, shaking. Arthur being covered in blood wasn't too new...

But you were being hit with so much new info.

Arthur wasn't just killing. He was killing people around you. In fact, you're pretty sure the reason Arthur isn't around camp often is because he stalks you. Then, when he tells you to stay put, he's not hunting animals...

He's killing people who got too close to the one he considers family.

"Don't follow orders no more, do you?" Arthur hums, slowly approaching like a wolf to potential prey. "Cat got too curious? Wanted to know what I was doing in the darkness while you slept? That it?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur... I thought someone was—"

"Sorry... Getting quite tired of hearing that word." Arthur chuckles, "That's all they ever say. Sorry this, sorry that... Sorry ain't gonna cut it, sweetheart."

You feel Arthur pull you close, his grip tight on your clothes as he pulls you into his bloody chest. You grimace, the substance quickly staining you. Arthur sighs, like a parent disappointed in a child.

"You're too damn curious for your own good." Arthur murmurs, stroking your back softly. "But... Now that you know, maybe you'll listen to me now."

Arthur pulls back, looking you in the eyes.

"I'm a selfish man, sweetheart." Arthur warns, caressing your cheek affectionately. "I kill people. I rob people. I beat people up.... But I take good care of what's mine, know that?"

You shakily nod, playing along as Arthur stares into you.

"... You're mine, darling." Arthur continues, "I kill people who touch what's mine. You're all I give a damn about. So unless you want to get reminded of the fact you're mine..."

Arthur warns, leaning close to your ear.

"I suggest you listen to me and stay put when I tell you... Got that?" Arthur threats, glancing at you.

You nod aggressively, eyes trying to look anywhere but him and the corpse behind him. Arthur smiles, although it's a rather sadistic smile. He then turns you around and leads you back to camp.

"Good... Now go back to camp and I'll be right back. Wait for me there." Arthur commands, watching as you quickly run off.

This time... you listen to Arthur...

You don't want to disobey his orders anymore.

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a Lesbian! pt.5

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: omgg!! I am back angels!! This chapter took me wayy longer than it should have...sorry my lovelies!! (- ‸ - )

→ Part one! → Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part six!

The darkness enveloped the four of you as you crept towards the main building, where the director's office was. Abby, taking the lead, signaled for the rest of you to follow. 

"Hurry your ass over here," Dina whispered harshly as she motioned for Ellie to pick up the pace.

Ellie, walking slower than the rest due to the pain in her ass, gritted her teeth in frustration. "I'm fucking trying!" she snapped back at Dina in a hushed tone. 

The four of you reached the window of the director's office. The dim moonlight illuminated the glass pane, casting shadows across the room. Abby motioned for everyone to crouch down, keeping out of sight. The building was eerily quiet, with only the faint sound of crickets chirping in the distance.

"Alright," she whispered, "We need to be quick and quiet. Once we're inside, find our stuff and…maybee grab anything else that looks fun."

Dina nodded eagerly, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I’ve been eyeing this statue the director has.." she whispered back, her heart pumping with thrill. 

Ellie's brows furrowed in concern. "We can't just steal," she protested, "If we get caught, we'll be in even bigger-."

Dina let out an exaggerated groan, rolling her eyes. "Booo!" she exclaimed, throwing her thumbs down in disappointment.

Abby joined in, nudging Ellie gently. "Come on, El's," she urged. "One little souvenir won't hurt."

"Exactly," you chimed in, "If you’re going to risk it all to get those damn finger condoms, you might as well make it worth a while."

Ellie sighed, feeling outnumbered, “I hate it here.” 

Abby turned back to the window, her fingers reaching out to test the latch. With a silent click, the window slid open. She gestured for everyone to follow her lead as she slipped inside, her movements swift.

One by one, you each climbed through the window, careful not to make a sound. 

With a grunt, Ellie retrieved her lighter, flicking it on to provide more light. The warm glow spread across the room. 

As the light revealed the drawer, you all realized that it was now  locked. 

"Aw, shit," Ellie grumbled, scratching her head.

Dina crouched down to get a closer look, examining the lock. "Fuck, she must have put this on after she caught us," she muttered, her brows furrowed.

"It's a big-ass lock too," Abby remarked, tapping the metal with her knuckles.

"I think I can lockpick it," Dina said, her eyes lighting up.

You quickly rummaged through your hair and pulled out a bobby pin. "Here," you say, handing it to Dina.

"Ellie, give me more light," Dina instructed,  yanking Ellie's arm.

Ellie adjusted her position to shine the light more directly on the drawer. The beam of light flickered across the metal surface. With more light, Dina carefully inserted the bobby pin into the lock.

As Dina focused on unlocking the drawer, Abby's curiosity led her to explore the office. Her eyes landing on a nude statue nestled in the corner.

Abby's face lit up with excitement as she approached it. It was crafted from smooth, white marble, capturing feminine beauty in detail. The woman depicted had graceful curves, her pose seductive.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Abby murmured as she reached out to touch the cool surface of the statue. With a grunt, she lifted it from its place and carried it over to where the rest of you were gathered.

Ellie's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she watched Abby's. "What the fuck are you doing?" she questioned.

Abby set the statue down in front of the group with a grin. "Woaahh, No." Dina exclaimed, "I already called dibs on it.”

"But I found it, soo it's mine," Abby argued, crossing her arms.

Dina's eyes narrowed,. "But I fucking called dibs first! That means it's mine."

Ellie groaned. "Can we get our shit back first-” 

"El’s, you have no pussy to run to," Dina snapped, “Your finger bullshit can wait!”

Click-clack click-clack.

The sudden click of heels echoed, sending a jolt of panic through the four of you. Abby scrambled to pick up the statue, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to place it back in its original spot. Meanwhile, Dina, Ellie, and you hurriedly ducked behind the desk, your heartbeats pounding in your ears.

"Hurry up, Abs!" You whispered urgently, your eyes darting nervously towards the approaching sound of footsteps.

With a fumbling motion, Abby attempted to set the statue down quietly, but her nerves got the best of her, and it slipped from her grasp, crashing onto the floor with a loud thud. The noise echoed in the silent room, causing all four of you to freeze in fear.

"Ohhh fuckk…" Abby groaned under her breath, her eyes widening. 

The sound of approaching footsteps quickened, the clicking of heels grew louder and more urgent. 

Abby's heart raced as she frantically tried to pick up the fallen statue, her hands trembling with nervousness. But her efforts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the nurse standing at the doorway, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Anderson?" the nurse asked, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Abby's mind raced, "Oh, uh, hey," she stammered, attempting to act nonchalant but failing miserably.

The nurse's gaze shifted from Abby to the statue on the floor, her confusion deepening. "What're you doing?" she questioned, stepping closer to get a better look.

Abby's heart pounded in her chest as she desperately tried to think of a convincing response. "Um, I-I was just looking...for..uh.." she trailed off.

The nurse made a move to enter the room, but Abby quickly stepped in her way, blocking her path. "Um, you! Yeah, I-I was looking for.. uh you," she blurted out, her words coming out in a rushed and jumbled mess.

The nurse raised an eyebrow at Abby's explanation. "You were looking for me... in the director's office?" Her tone suspicious. 

Abby felt a bead of sweat form on her brow as she realized the nurse wasn't buying her story. "Fuck um..." she muttered under her breath.

The nurse attempted to step past Abby once more, but Abby instinctively moved to block her again. "What is going on with you?"

Abby's mind raced as she struggled to come up with a response. "Nothing, it's nothing," she insisted, her voice tinged with nervousness. "Just... Can you go?"

The nurse's patience was thin, "What the fuck are you hiding?!" she demanded. 

A sudden sneeze echoed through the room, the nurse's suspicion escalated to a new level. Her eyes narrowed with accusation. "Are you screwing someone!?" she snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief.

Abby's heart raced but before she could respond, the nurse pushed past her, flicking on the light switch. "No, no, no!" Abby protested, reaching out in an attempt to stop her.

But it was too late. The nurse stood at the desk, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight of the three of you hidden behind it.

Dina's nervous wave only seemed to intensify the nurse's shock. She took a step back, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You were screwing THREE OF THEM!?!" she exclaimed.

The three of you scrambled to your feet, "I would fucking never.”  Ellie snapped , rubbing her sore ass from sitting on the floor for so long. 

Abby attempted to grab the nurse's hand,. "It's not what you think-"

But the nurse shook off Abby's grasp. She quickly made her way to the doorway, trying to exit the room, but Abby cut her off, still trying to reason with her. "Please, just let me explain-"

"I'm reporting all of you!" the nurse declared firmly.

"Fuck, you can't-" Abby began, but her words were cut off by a sudden thud. The nurse's grip on the doorframe loosened, and she collapsed to the floor, unconscious. 

"Oh my fucking god!" Ellie jolted, her eyes wide with alarm.

You swung a heavy book at the nurse, hitting her in the head. The three girls turned to look at you, their expressions shocked.

"What?!" you exclaimed defensively. "She was going to snitch!"

"Shit!" Abby cursed, dropping to her knees beside the unconscious nurse.

"We have to hide her!" Dina urged, scanning the room for a suitable hiding spot.

Ellie glanced at the clock, her heart racing with anxiety. "Guys, we need to fucking hurry! The director will do her checkup rounds soon!"

"Fuck!" Abby grumbled, frustration in her tone. "Okay, change of plans.” 

The three of you turned to look at Abby, "Me and Dina will hide the nurse and get our belongings," she instructed. She then turned to Ellie and you. “You two will have to start the fire."

"You're seriously pairing me up with sore booty?!" you groaned.

[pointpilot]

Untitled Labru Fic

synopsis: laios indulges kabru in his childhood country bumpkin lifestyle. laios is a freak AND kabru learns something about himself

word cont: 935

inspired by my post here

-

“Did you know you can eat these, Kabru?”

Securing his hands around the base of a branch and a leaf which it was tethered to, a rip was heard as he took the leaf into his delicate hand. 

“I supposed I didn’t.” Kabru replied, attentive eyes following the rich green leaf now in front of him. He noticed the fronds had a sort of peach fuzz to them as they caught themselves in the orangey-blue sky. “These are called Winauk leaves, they come from Winauk trees. I’d be careful with eating them all the time, though.” Laios aimlessly waved the leaf around.

“Why?” Kabru queeried, arms folded as he lay his back against this tree. Before looking up at Laios, he admired the open field they relaxed in, tall grass swaying whichever way in the wind while rays of heat gently tingled their skin. 

“Invasive beetles from the Eastern Archipelago are known to carry fungi that infest the leaves. If you eat this leaf with the fungi present, you could get a really bad disease.” 

Laios threw the leaf in his mouth. 

Dumbass!!! Then why would you eat it!?

Kabru screamed in his mind, he then started to say this aloud, but his words came out like this:

“Oh, is that safe to eat then?” He asked with a gentle smile of concern, pointing to Laios’ mouth as he obnoxiously chewed, the blond sitting himself next to him. “I’ve eaten these so much as a child that I can taste the difference. Want one? I’ll taste test it for you!” He gestured his hand towards the branches of the tree. “I promise they’re really good. Almost minty.”

Kabru had an ultimatum. Keep a friendly, albeit flirty relationship with Laios to continue to truly see how his crazy-ass ticked, or get a disease and die. Truly, he was interested in Laios’ history and how it shaped him into the person he is now. Which is why he went out into the vast rural lands of Melini with him to indulge in Laios’ former rural lifestyle. Kabru knew how much he missed his homeland, and used this as an apt opportunity to become closer to him, while also being curious as to what this entailed. 

“I’ll try a leaf.” Kabru forcefully beamed, splaying his palm out so a Winauk leaf could be placed in that empty space. Laios beamed back, rushing up to grab a leaf for Kabru. In all honesty it was quite adorable how excited Laios became introducing Kabru to his former lifestyle. Oh well, it is what it is. If he truly did get sick, Falin could work her magic. 

-----

The next day, Kabru surprisingly didn’t become severely ill and die. Today he walked beside Laios in one of Melini’s many produce fairs. This was the norm for any rural type of area anywhere, and Laios was just geeked to see it. 

Many farmers had their best produce up for sale, beautiful vegetables, fruits, and even monster foods such as basilisk eggs and mimic claws to name a few. Kabru clutched Laios’ flushed arm harder once he saw a sign indicating harpy eggs were for sale, though.  

As they continued to walk through the colorfully vibrant fair, Laios saw something in particular that piqued his interest. 

“Kabru, look! I’d love for you to try these!” Kabru curiously picked his head up from his melting exorcism sorbet, dripping onto his fingers. He opted to just get rid of it as he was getting tired of the sorbet, chucking it in the nearest trash bin. 

By the time he turned around to what Laios was pointing at, his face scrunched and contorted in a way he thought he never could. But only Laios could make him do that.

WILD ANTS AND CRICKETS

No.

Dear goodness no.

This was nowhere near treasure bugs. Monsters had a sort of magical feel to them, a feel that separated them from regular, everyday insects that didn’t feed off of mana, but fed off of the disgusting dung and sediment of the earth.

Kabru’s resolve broke.

“I’m sorry Laios, but—”

Laios had the most joyous expression on his face, placing an order for two small bags of (thankfully) dead crickets and ants. He held them in his hands and beamed towards Kabru. “Falin and I would go out and eat these all the time! Personally my favorite is cheddar crickets, but these’ll do.” 

And just like that, Kabru realized something.

Laios would probably never have an opportunity like this again. He chose Kabru to come with him not only because he cared, but because deep in his heart he knew Kabru was the only person that’d willingly indulge in his fun activities. 

Kabru also didn’t want Laios’ fond memories of them together to be fabricated all for the sake of studying him. 

He genuinely enjoyed Laios’ company, no matter how crazy he was. 

He enjoyed walking barefoot in the tall grass while being surrounded by Winauk trees, he enjoyed how Laios would take him to secret vibrant strawberry patches, and especially enjoyed playing with village dogs together, running with the dogs in wide, open fields.

He obviously despised eating potentially diseased leaves and right now, didn’t even want to look at an insect.

But in a world where resurrection is common, he could die over and over for Laios and deem each of those deaths worth it. It wasn’t like he hasn’t died numerous times already. The only difference now is that he’d die a million times with purpose.

“I’ll eat both.” Kabru gave Laios a closed eyed grin. 

Kabru threw up the insects five minutes later.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Dragon Humanoid: Asahi [NSFW]

Odel is getting a part 2 shortly! Just thought I’d write a small little thing to keep me going and not be driven into madness lol.

CW/Tags: breeding, praise kink, slight nipple play, slight clit play, dirty talk. Reader is a faun.

Support me on Ko-fi!~    -   Patreon

-

“Are you going to join me?”

You watched from the edge, aware of the golden, heated and intense eyes staring back up at you. At that very moment, the tiny towel wrapped around you didn’t seem to be helping in keeping you exposed.

It reached your upper thighs, not keeping much from a sudden breeze lifting the towel and showing everything to the emperor awaiting your decision.

“Isn’t it very inappropriate?” You inquired, eyes gazing from the bare chest of the humanoid dragon to the waters below. The winter chill was the only thing that stopped you from freezing over, thankful the thick wool around your legs was keeping you warm, your upper body not so much. “I shouldn’t be sharing the waters with an emperor.”

The dragon emperor, Asahi was every part beautiful to look at: the Golden – he was called – majestic and radiating raw power. Ram-like horns curved upwards like a crown on his head, glittering gold as coins when they caught the light, his skin a radiant glow of gold and bronze. His long dark hair was as curly as the ringlets of your wool.

He was a general and warrior, every ladies’ dream in a husband. Thousands of lesser lords tried to set betrothals with their daughters to him, and for every single one, they were rejected. It was odd for an emperor to not want to be married off, but it had been rather confusing why he had seemed to of taken interest in someone like you. You were a minor lord’s daughter, handmaiden to his mother, the former Empress, surrounded by the gold and jewels of the emerald Imperial Palace.

“Nonsense,” he dismissed it languidly, his voice a soft and deep timbre. “Everyone is welcome to join. High or low. It is a chillier winter this year after all. I would rather you didn’t catch a chill.”

You stared back down to the waters, your hoof gingerly testing the waters. Warm, warm enough that it would keep you comforted. Staring back to meet Asahi’s generous gaze, you could feel the warm build-up in your chest, nervousness brooding.

“Is it okay if you turn round?”

It didn’t take a reason for Asahi to ask, nodding with a gentle smile on his face, turning through the waters, his muscular back facing you.

The waters enveloped you the further you waded through once you took the time to for bravery. A goat for the slaughter. The towel was discarded to the ground, and the wool of your legs grew heavy as the water soaked through, making you feel as if you were sinking the more you walked in.

Crouching your legs, you waded in, awaiting the emperor to turn back to face you. Your chest was covered by the opaque liquid, enveloping you with some protection against your virtue being ruined.

Asahi turned to face you, observing you. “You are most beautiful.”

You blushed heavily. “Thank you, my emperor.”

“Asahi,” he corrected amicably. “Asahi when we’re alone. Now,” a clawed finger traced your jawline with a thoughtful stroke along your skin, uttering a shudder to spread down your spine. “don’t be shy, I won’t bite.”

You treaded further to sit beside him, carefully soaking your body in the waters. Your body appreciated the warmth against the elements, the chill in the night was not helping in the slightest, but what was also helping was the pure heat rising off of the scaled body next to you.

“Hmm,” he purred, earning his head back against the panels behind him, eyes peeled to stare back at you curiously. “This is nice.”

You copied his movements, albeit not as graceful as him. For a dragon humanoid like himself, he was large, larger than most humans and those of his kind, carrying himself with both authority and nimbleness.

There was a silence that filled the openness of the outdoor area, followed by the sounds of crickets hidden in the bushes. Steam rolled off your body as the two of you lay in a comfortable tranquillity.

It was enough to gather your thoughts and try and still your beating heart, scared it would take off and leave you frozen dead on the spot. The emperor seemed to know what he was doing: moving closer to you, a hand coming round your waist, pulling you suddenly towards his chest.

You caught yourself before you fell face-first into the water, staring up at him in dreaded horror. Did you displease him? Did he wish for you to be out of his sight?-

“Now, now, you’re quivering like a leaf. I’m not that scary, am I?”

He brought the thoughts to subside, remembering whose presence you were in, before you tried awkwardly trying to excuse yourself, leaning back to no avail, Asahi’s hold on you was noticeably not letting you go any further from him.

“You’re such a small little thing.” He observed in a gentle tone, his hand around your waist squeezed at your rump unexpectantly, earning a yelp to fall from your open lips. “Such a cute, little goat.”

“My emperor!-“

“Asahi, or must I remind you, hmm?” He gave your rump a gentle squeeze once more, his entire hand enveloped around you with ease, and it did not seem to stop your heart from erupting from your chest due to the closeness, the way he held onto you. You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop the feeling from settling in your lower stomach, thoughts filling your mind no lady should’ve been thinking. “Sorry… Asahi.”

“That’s a good girl.”

His praises were sudden yet a pleasant sensation, sending pleasure to run down your spine, straight between your legs. You shifted uncomfortably in your spot, spotted by the dragon emperor. “Here, let’s get you more comfortable.”

“That won’t be necessary-“

He was quick with his hands around you, pulling you to his lap, immediately feeling his groin against your lower back, something twitching beneath the waters that made you yelp as if running your skin against something you shouldn’t have in the sea. “My lord!”

“That’s better.” He groaned, snuggling into your back, pressing himself further into you, aware that his cock was growing in size and hardness, twitching and moving with a mind of its own. “You are most warm.”

You didn’t want to move, to feel this enjoyment when you knew what he was doing to you. It was unbearable: feeling the heat rise in your stomach and between your legs, slick building. You wished for him to just turn you over and fuck you senselessly out of your wits, but you tried to keep your cool.

The emperor smiled into your hairline, kissing it sweetly despite where his hands were travelling to. “You are so cute when you make those noises.” A hand moved against your inner thigh, “May I hear more?”

You whined, not daring to speak as his fingers found their way further up between your legs, finding your clit between the wool of your legs, pinching and running his finger along it, inciting noises that had you flushed uncontrollably.

“Let me hear your voice, dear. You sound so beautiful.” He encouraged you further, and you did not want to fail him.

His endless teasing never seemed to end, until you finally turned to look back behind you, staring up at him through lidded eyelids. He did not need to say anything further, but when you felt the length of his cock press against your inner thigh, you knew he was thinking the same thing.

-

“That’s it, ride my cock.”

You gasped and shuddered, water rippling along with your body, bouncing above the dragon with the might to match thunder. Your breasts bounced in time to the way you rode him, thighs clenched around his, stomach coiling with his length alone, moving in and out of you, reaching incredible depths inside you.

Asahi held you around your hip with a clawed hand, guiding you lazily, yet his eyes were aflame with ardent passion. “You’re such a slut, aren’t you? Riding my cock-- your emperor’s cock like some harlot.” He hissed.

“Y-Yes—oh, yes I am,” you whined, focusing on your orgasm approaching once more. The heat of the water and from him and brought sweat to you, spreading across your body the more you fucked yourself on him.

“Look at you, fucking yourself senselessly on me,” Asahi rumbled a chuckle, eyes lit with enjoyment. “You’ve fucked yourself dumb on me.”

Your head was turning to mush, your body aching, and the need to come was coiling and twisting, making your chest do flips. Asahi was all very amused by this: tweaking one of your nipples idly as he observed.

“Go on, cum again, my beloved. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, as the orgasm was ripped from you with the force that had you shuddering. You clutched onto the dragon with desperation as you rode it out, the forceful thrusts didn’t seem to falter as they took you through a ride. In fact, you coming seemed to spur him on further.

“That’s it,” he growled through gritted teeth, “you’re mine. All mine. Mine for the fucking—gonna breed you—”

He howled, hips stilling, holding you down above him as he came inside you, his hips stuttering as he gave a cry into the night, thrusting his remaining cum inside your aching used hole.

Your breaths steamed into the night, conjoining together as one, and when the dragon embraced you lovingly, all pain, and worries seemed to melt away.

You thought it was all done, before you could even register his thick, rigged cock was twitching once more, still rock hard.

“I’m not done with you just yet,” he murmured lovingly, his hips giving a low thrust to make you moan aloud again. “The night is still young, and I’m in need of warmth.”

[scrunckled-idiot]

DOING THIS BECAUSE MY G/T BUDDIES ARE EHEEHEHHE :D

pocket and their relationships with their co-workers:

(relationships might have changed from their original post)

scout: literally the yapper and the listener. will hang out with the boy when things have been too quiet for too long. will listen to him go on and on and on about miss Pauling, the enemy team, how much he hates spy, how he's hungry and wants to go out for food, how he doesn't know what to draw next and that he needs some better pens- just general stuff, and they just nod along to every word. usually goes out into town with him or just uses him as fast travel. both are actually really creative together since pocket will go out and find scraps of magazines or trinkets scout can use in his scrap book. team work baybeeeee. scout sees them as like his tiny older uncle/aunt thingy, because believe it or not, pocket actually has some authority over the boy, like jiminy cricket. if jiminy cricket had no voice. especially when it comes to think before you act. you do NYATT annoy heavy when he's just woken up to do the night shift.

soldier: pocket... pocket isn't really sure. i mean yea he's ok, a bit handsy and brash, and loud, but in a- charming way? i mean- they're not that big of a fan of him when he has his little episodes or mood swings, because then more than likely THEY will be his outlet. WILL out of the blue start bolting after them around the base no matter the situation. off day? MOVE THOSE LEGS! sleeping? UP AND AT 'EM SUNSHINE! getting dressed? NO TIME FOR THAT! GO GO GO!!! thinks he's helping keep them on their toes on this gravel hellscape of war, but its just causing them even more stress (and cramps in their legs OW-) will also kidnap pocket and explain some sudden delusional idea he came up with and drags them along with him, which pocket reluctantly allows (not that they really mind it anyway. they kinda dig the fact of how much of a wild card he is :3). sometimes insists on covering pockets back during matches, which often pays off. how nice! :3

pyro: he doesn't talk, they dont talk, perfect. pyro sometimes follows behind pocket like a lost puppy, going wherever they do. pocket doesn't mind the company. sometimes has to endure a few tea parties with them though and reluctantly let themselves be roughly dressed in (partially burned) doll clothes and sit for an awkwardly long time with them in their room as they play pretend. pyro handmade them a tiny house out of an old mint box the second day they arrived. pocket still uses it sometimes, even though they have their own room. its just a nice gesture y'know?

heavy: heavy usually doesn't allow pocket near him and makes up some excuse that he's ill or something. pretty believable with how pale his face goes and how shivery he gets. but after hearing some gossip from medic about his Microphobia, pocket understood, keeping their distance. but slowly over time came closer and closer after medic asked pocket to conduct some exposure therapy. now you could see pocket sat on the armchair of heavys seat as he reads his book, possibly explaining the story or going off on a tangent about how its written to them.

engineer: pocket and engie are like this 🤞fr fr. goes to him for anything and everything. usually hangs out with him after missions or on off days. weather that be tinkering in his workshops, helping him in the kitchen when making dinner, or even just lounging around with him in general. pocket looks up to him (no pun intended) as a farther figure and sticks with him during missions when they aren't entirely up for it. willingly a test subject for any crazy contraption the guy makes, weather that be a sentient smart kitchen, walking sentry girl bot thing, miniature rocket boots- you name it. one time engie made a growth ray to see if pocket would like being well- normal. hated it, threw up and got REALLY REALLY ill for some reason, the perspective change was NOT GOOD ON THEM. interesting for everyone though (but hahah turns out they were taller than engie HAHAAHHA). engie has since locked it away somewhere and forgor about it.

demoman: demos pretty fond of the wee fella in all honesty, like a... like aaa... like a pocket buddy! (how creative) sometimes snags them up subconsciously when hes drunk off his ass and just carries them around with him all night in his hand, rocking them side to side as he mumbles under his breath. its- yea a little weird, but no harm done in the end (except for that one time where pocket nearly became his "hangover cure".) he's always saying how much they remind him of the wee folk in his childhood stories and shows them pictures from his books. listens to him during his piano time, tapping their foot to the tune, flipping the pages for him, sometimes even trying their hand at it by hopping from key to key. pockets getting better at it slowly but surely! doing these little jazzy duets with demo.

medic: least favourite, but doesn't hate per say, just a bit jumpy with him. keeps scaring them and popping out of nowhere and grabbing them, cackling. its not like that can do anything about him, he's their co-worker! AND he's the one who found out that they're indestructible! so they're gratfull for him getting accurate and speciful results from him but... still though he just kinda freaks them out with that- huegehh- smile of his. but they can somewhat tolerate him. from afar. a good distance away. in another room. out of reach. Mabey with engineer as a meat shield.

sniper: both are socially awkward so they dont mind each others rare company at times. sometimes joins him, demo, and scout on their mini trips into the dessert. he's a little weird and freaks pocket out sometimes whenever they catch him eating bugs or roasting a gecko over a candle but i mean- we all got our quirks right? (tastes great tho) likes to scared pocket by laying traps around the base or telling them fun facts like "you know an iguana or something could eat you and we wouldn't know, right? pocket has a fear of animals. he knows this. it makes it so much fucking funnier when he pulls one of the fuckers out from behind his back or car seat. pocket usually gets back at him by cock-blocking him and demo. other than that they're just chill like that bro.

spy: barely ever interact really, aside from the few times spy lent a gentleman's hand in their time of need. pocket knows spy, and spy knows pocket. they acknowledge each other sure. spy sometimes keeps some of his "relaxation tobacco" spare for them when he notices they seem particularly Shakey.

bonus!:

entire blu team: out to get the fucking traitor

miss Pauling: doesn't know

admin: KNOWS

Archimedes: THE ULTIMATE SHOW DOWN OF ULTIMATE DESTINY!!! *gets pecked to "death"*

wanted to do this cus @circushaven and @bluespace-skull did and i hav severe FOMO :')

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 3 of 6

The key scraped in the lock. Eris couldn’t find the dignity to be embarrassed as Nesta entered while he remained pressed into the corner of the room, his blanket brought to his chin.

‘Mister Crane?’

‘It was a Headless Horseman.’

She gave a slow blink. ‘Do not excite yourself.’

‘But it was a Headless Horseman.’

‘Of course it was.’

Eris’s breath came out like a rattle. His ribs constricted upon his lungs ‘No. You must believe me, Miss Tassel. It was a Horseman. A dead one. Headless.’

‘I know,’ Nesta agreed.

‘No, you don’t know because you weren’t there. But it’s all true. It is a Headless Horseman.’

Nesta edged onto a sliver of the mattress and reached for his hand. Her own were cold. ‘We all told you, Eris.’

That they had. And he’d washed it away as nonsense. But how could it be? Eris had seen optics and trickery deployed to great effect. Sleight of hand to look like magic. None of it could explain the Headless Horseman that he’d witnessed.

After Nesta had forced a strongly-brewed tea down his neck, she pressed him on what he intended to do next. What Eris wanted to do was climb onto Gunpowder and return to New York as quickly as the horse would carry him. But when he looked into those pleading grey eyes, his words melted on his tongue. It had to have been madness that seized him, for he reached forwards to graze his knuckles down her cheek.

‘Well, now I know who the culprit is, I must examine the Western Woods to discover the cause and remove it.’

The corners of Nesta’s mouth ticked up. ‘You will find no volunteers, Mister Crane. Fear of the Horseman has made cowards of our village.’

‘Then I will go alone, I suppose.’

She reached for his hand again. ‘I shall ride with you.’

Together, they rode for the woods with Nesta Van Tassel proving that she had a mightier heart than all of the men in Sleepy Hollow. There was fierce determination upon her face as she urged the horse on through the low-hanging branches that tried to tangle in her hair.

‘There must be a common thread between the Van Garretts, Briar, Bron, and now Lucien.’

‘Everybody has dealings with everybody in this place, Mister Crane.’ Nesta blew out a breath. ‘Do you hear that?’

‘I hear nothing.’

She shook her head. ‘Nor I. No birds. No crickets. It’s all so quiet. I cannot say that this is a tranquillity I enjoy.’

They rode on although they found no cause for alarm beyond the eerie silence. Eris could not forbid himself from watching Nesta. Her face was one of classic beauty. The severity of her expression only enhanced it. For her, he bucked up his courage.  

When they reached an old, wooden cabin wedged between a rock fall, Nesta touched his wrist. The feeling was like lightning skittering through his veins.

‘They say the Witch of the Woods lives here.’

‘May we enter?’

Nesta offered him half of a smile. ‘Are you so brave, Mister Crane?’

For her, he would try to be. With a swallow, he stepped forwards and rapped twice on the door.

A croaky voice that made him nauseous called, ‘Enter.’

Threads criss-crossed upon the ground. A great weaving loom hid the figure from view, but Eris spotted a cuff around her wrist which chained her to the ground. Her nails were overgrown, her face covered from view with a veil.

‘You seek the warrior bathed in blood… the Headless Horseman.’

‘We do.’

The witch rocked on her chair, fingers plucking at threads. ‘Follow the trail to where the sun dies. Where spring meets the wall. Follow to the tree of the dead.’

She pulled her wrist, as if testing the cuff, so Eris backed up a step, an arm curling around Nesta to sweep her behind him.

‘When you seek it, climb down to his resting place.’

There was a long pause. For a moment, Eris believed the Witch of the Woods had fallen asleep.

‘And then?’ He prompted.

The witch leapt from her chair, the bolt in the ground rupturing. She was upon him – all claws and teeth – as she tried to devour him.

Eris tried to roll, tried to push her away. She was too strong. Unnaturally strong as she bore down upon him.

The witch gave a sudden grunt of pain and slumped forwards on top of him. Eris groaned as he pushed her off onto the floor. Looming over them, Nesta held the iron poker from the fire.

‘Mister Crane?’

‘I should like to leave, Miss Van Tassel.’

‘Oh, thank goodness. We are of similar mind.’

With light still remaining in the day, they journeyed on in search of the pit of evil. Nesta had an idea of where the witch had meant.

‘There was a wall, many years ago, built through the forest. Nobody remembers why. A most strange occurrence. It is not far from here.’

The remnants of a stone wall cut through a portion of the forest. They followed it westwards until flowers grew between the cracks despite the season. Nesta pointed a finger towards a tree. The bark was soft and peeling like scabbed skin. It bled red sap as Eris peeled a portion off.

‘I suppose it is here then.’

‘Unless you know of another tree beside a wall, Mister Crane.’

At the base of the tree, supple roots formed a mesh. Gingerly, Eris cut through them with the knife from the sheath on his hip – then recoiled.

Five heads were pressed into the hollow.

‘He… he tries to take the heads back with him,’ Eris breathed.

A crow cawed above their heads.

‘We must leave this place,’ Nesta urged.

He had been inclined to agree until he saw the disturbed earth a few yards away. Without a shovel, Eris used his hands to dig.

‘A grave.’

Nesta looked down at the uncovered bones. ‘Without a skull. What does it mean?’

Eris stared down at the bones too. ‘I wish I could answer that.’

A sudden shriek came from Nesta then Eris felt himself being tugged to the ground with Nesta’s warm body on top of his. Before he could wonder over the manner of her mounting, a suture ripped through the earth near the base of the tree. From it, the Horseman erupted. He did not linger.

‘We must return to Sleepy Hollow.’

***

Nesta raced for her home with the promise to remain inside where it was safer as Eris galloped towards the bridge on Gunpowder. He found the Horseman engaged with Cassian, the latter with a knife embedded in his calf.

It was a curious sight. The Horseman seemed to want to leave. He would disarm Cassian then aim for the horse which waited for him some yards away.

‘Stop! Don’t you see? He is not after us.’

But Cassian would not stop engaging with the headless figure.

Eris grabbed a sickle to provided support, but the Horseman was skilled with a blade.

‘We cannot win this, Cassian.’

‘I will die defending this hollow.’

He threw his sword which landed between the Horseman’s shoulder blades.

Eris knew then that they truly were dealing with a being of the supernatural kind because this did not fell the Horseman; it merely agitated him.

‘Now you’ve annoyed him.’

The horseman plunged his blade towards Eris’s chest, but at the last moment, he was able to curve his body so the blade pierced beneath his collarbones. Pain brough him to his knees. A wheezing breath escaped through his teeth.

He tried to force himself upwards as Cassian continued engaging the spectre.

And then it was done.

The Horseman had raised a scythe and ended Cassian’s life.

***

The moon had claimed dominion over the sky when Eris awoke. He had been moved to his bed in the Van Tassel household. Sitting beside him, reading in silence, was Nesta. When he moved, her hand pressed against his chest.

‘You must rest, Mister Crane. You were injured by the Horseman.’

A wound of two inches wide sat below his collarbone where tissue met his shoulder. The wound had cauterized so he had not experienced significant blood loss.

‘We can be thankful that you remain amongst the living.’

‘I tried to stop Cassian but…’

 Nesta stroked a hand against his face. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact. ‘No one could have done more. There was none more stubborn than Cassian.’

‘You must understand, the Horseman was not set to kill Cassian – or me. He does not kill for the sake of killing – he chooses his victims carefully.’

Nesta pressed her lips together then reached for a tea pot to pour him something. ‘Your fever is breaking. This is good.’

‘Sleepy Hollow. Who did the Horseman claim tonight?’

‘Kallias, the horse master, and his wife, Viviane. She is a midwife.’ Nesta shook her head. ‘Their small son too.’

‘A child?’

‘Four victims in a single night. The Horseman becomes bolder.’

Eris sank against the pillows, clutching the mug of tea tightly as though it could root him to the spot. His hair was swept from his face by Nesta’s cool fingers. ‘You spoke in your sleep. It was most fitful.’

They were dreams that had plagued him for many years.

‘I do not think you were a happy man when you came to Sleepy Hollow. I think this place has made such wounds fester.’ She touched a hand to his forehead. ‘I cannot cure this world, but I would have you live happily within it. Tell me what you dreamed, Eris.’

‘How I found my mother dead. How good and evil sometimes wear each other’s clothes. She was an innocent. A child of nature. Murdered… by my father.’

‘Your own father?’

‘Yes. Murdered to save her soul. By a Biblical tyrant behind a mask of righteousness. I was seven when I lost my faith – and my mother.’ Eris forced a mouthful of the tea down. ‘I believe in sense and reason. An ordered universe. I should not have come to a place where my rational mind has been so controverted by the spirit world.’

‘Is there nothing you will take from Sleepy Hollow that was worth coming here for?’

Their eyes met. Her own were unique. He had never seen such a startling grey. It disarmed him.

‘A kiss – and how rare a thing. A kiss from a lovely woman before she saw my face or knew my name.’

Her eyes fell to her lap bashfully. ‘A kiss without sense or reason in a revelry.’

‘Forgive me. I talk of kisses when you have lost your brave man Cassian.’

‘I have shed my tears for Cassian… and yet my heart is not broken.’ She met his gaze again. ‘Do you think me wicked?’

‘No. But perhaps there is a little bit of the witch in you, Nesta.’

Her head tilted. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because you have bewitched me.’

[lilacura]

Apocalypse

pairing: Kim Minji x Reader

>wc: 1.6k

summary: Childhood friends Minji and Y/N grow distant after high school, a silent grief replacing the laughter that once defined their bond. Unspoken words and the weight of separation leave them prisoners of a fading friendship and an unexpressed love, drowning in the sorrow of what once was.

based off of the song 'apocalypse' by cigarettes after sex

your lips my lips 

apocalypse 

From the moment Kim Minji and Y/N met on the playground, a friendship blossomed that was destined to withstand the test of time. Childhood for them was a kaleidoscope of laughter, scraped knees, and shared ice cream cones on sweltering summer afternoons.

Their afternoons were often spent in the treehouse at the end of Y/N's backyard, a sanctuary built with mismatched planks and scavenged nails. Seated on worn-out cushions, the two friends concocted fantastical stories, their imaginations intertwining like the branches outside their secret haven.

"Do you think fairies live in this tree?" Minji once wondered, her eyes wide with wonder.

Y/N grinned, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. "Absolutely! And I bet they're the ones who make our wishes come true."

In the quiet moments that followed the sun's descent, casting a warm, golden glow over their neighborhood, Minji and Y/N would find solace in each other's homes. The murmur of late-night conversations beneath the blanket forts, illuminated by dim flashlights, held an unspoken depth that echoed the profound connection they shared.

Lazy Sunday mornings saw them pedaling through the streets, laughter reverberating off the walls like an echo of their unspoken bond. The local park, their shared kingdom, witnessed battles fought with imaginary swords and capes, victories celebrated over melting popsicles, concealing a subtle undercurrent of emotions left unexplored.

Minji's infectious energy danced with Y/N's calm demeanor, creating a harmonious balance between them. They were two halves of a perfect whole, their intertwined lives revealing a friendship rooted in a profound mutual understanding. As the years unfolded, the beauty of their connection remained intact, its uncharted depths harboring the unspoken truth that both harbored a love too delicate to voice, too scared to disrupt the fragile balance they'd created.

go and sneak us through the rivers

flood is rising up on your knees

oh please 

Drawn by the moonlit allure, Minji and Y/N found themselves at a secluded river. The night embraced them as they waded into the cool, flowing waters, a symphony of crickets and rustling leaves providing the backdrop to their clandestine escapade.

In the soft glow of moonlight, they played like carefree spirits. Giggles and laughter echoed along the riverbanks as they began splashing each other with water, the joy of the moment lighting up their faces. Each ripple created by their laughter seemed to carry away the weight of unspoken words, replaced by the simple delight of being together.

As the moon painted a silver path on the water's surface, they engaged in a playful dance, their laughter harmonizing with the gentle murmur of the river. Water droplets sparkled in the moonlight as Minji and Y/N, caught in the magic of the night, shared secret glances that spoke volumes without uttering a word.

Giggles became an unspoken language, and the river witnessed the beauty of their uninhibited joy. The night, with its whispers and reflections, carried away any fears or uncertainties, leaving behind the essence of a shared laughter that would resonate in the depths of their friendship for years to come.

come out and haunt me 

i know you want me

come out and haunt me

 Minji and Y/N found themselves immersed in a game of hide and seek. The vibrant greenery of the backyard served as their playground, and the air buzzed with the excited anticipation of a childhood game.

Minji, the seeker, closed her eyes and counted, her small fingers covering her face. As she finished counting, she eagerly ventured into the backyard, searching for her hidden friend. Amidst the giggles and rustling leaves, Y/N crouched behind a sturdy oak tree, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of the game.

As Minji roamed the garden, she eventually stood before the tree where Y/N was hiding. A mischievous glint shone in Minji's eyes as she pretended not to see her best friend, gazing around with feigned confusion.

"Hmm, where could Y/N be hiding?" Minji mused aloud, her tone exaggerated for effect.

From behind the tree, Y/N stifled a giggle, trying to stay hidden. "Maybe she's behind the shed?" Minji suggested, making deliberate, theatrical glances in all directions, except towards Y/N.

The charade continued, each feigned search making Y/N's concealed position all the more amusing. "Not behind the flower bed either," Minji declared, peering into the bushes while Y/N bit her lip to contain her laughter.

Just as Minji turned away, Y/N couldn't resist a playful whisper, "Am I that good at hiding, or are you just playing along?"

Minji, maintaining the act, glanced around dramatically before lowering her voice conspiratorially. "You're a master hider, Y/N. I might never find you."

Y/N burst into laughter, unable to contain it any longer. Minji joined in, and the backyard echoed with the joyous sounds of their shared amusement. The oak tree, a silent witness, stood tall as the keeper of this delightful childhood secret—a moment where playful deception only deepened the bonds of friendship.

sharing all your secrets with each other 

since you were kids

Beneath the oak tree's comforting branches, Minji and Y/N found solace in the whispered echoes of shared secrets that spanned the years.

"In this big universe, I always dreamed of being an astronaut," Y/N confided, her voice carrying a wistful tone that danced with the rustling leaves overhead.

Minji, gazing into the distance, responded, "And I wanted to be the person to make everyone laugh, you know? But lately, it feels like the weight of expectations is suffocating."

Their shared dreams and fears became the currency of their confidences, an unspoken pact forged through time.

Years later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N confessed, "Love is a beautiful mess, isn't it? I thought it would be like the movies, but it's more like navigating a storm without a compass."

Minji, with a subtle nod, replied, "It's hard, Y/N. Relationships are messy, but we'll navigate those storms together."

The oak tree, a silent guardian of their shared intimacies, bore witness to more profound revelations.

In a moment of vulnerability, Minji confessed, "I'm terrified of failing, of not living up to everyone's expectations. What if I'm not enough?"

Y/N, her voice gentle, responded, "You're more than enough, Minji. You always have been."

The oak tree, a testament to the passage of time and the fragility of dreams, stood witness to the ebb and flow of their lives. The rustling leaves overhead seemed to carry with them the bittersweet symphony of a friendship that weathered storms, embraced joys, and mourned the innocence lost to the ticking clock.

sleeping soundly with the locket that she gave you 

clutched in your fist 

High school arrived like a cold, unwelcome wind, disrupting the warmth of Minji and Y/N's inseparable bond. The day of Minji's departure unfolded with a heavy heart, tears flowing freely, marking the beginning of a soul-crushing farewell.

Amidst the quiet rustle of leaves beneath the oak tree, Minji and Y/N clung to each other, their tear-streaked faces a poignant reflection of the impending void. The laughter that once painted the air with joy now dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs, the weight of separation settling like a relentless ache.

"I'll miss you so much, Minji," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken sadness.

Minji, choking back tears, pressed a small locket into Y/N's hands. "Take this. So you'll always have a piece of me with you."

As Minji's departure became a distant memory, the shared sanctuary beneath the oak tree transformed into a haunting relic of their unbridled friendship. Nights became a silent procession of tears, Y/N clutching the special locket Minji had given her. The cold metal offered a fragile connection to the warmth of their shared past.

In the dim light before sleep, Y/N wept, the memories of Minji flooding her thoughts. "Why did you have to go?" she whispered to the empty room, her cries muffled by the suffocating loneliness.

The oak tree, once a witness to their laughter, now stood as a stoic sentinel of the pain that lingered. The locket, a tangible piece of Minji's presence, became the only solace in the lonely hours. Y/N would hold it close, tracing its contours with trembling fingers, each delicate detail a painful reminder of the friend who slipped away with the inexorable march of time.

you’ve been locked in here forever

and you just can’t say goodbye

Years passed like a heavy fog, enveloping the once-vibrant friendship of Minji and Y/N in an eerie silence. Laughter, once the heartbeat of their connection, faded into a haunting echo, replaced by a vast emptiness.

The warmth that once defined their camaraderie now lay dormant beneath layers of unsaid words, the distance between them stretching like an unbridgeable abyss. The bond that had weathered childhood storms now seemed fragile, hanging by the thinnest thread of memories.

In the lonely expanse of their separate worlds, Minji and Y/N wrestled with the relentless ache of unspoken sentiments. Each passing day etched lines of longing on their hearts, like scars that refused to heal. The desire to reach out, to rekindle the friendship that time had worn thin, lingered like an unfulfilled promise.

Yet, the weight of silence prevailed. Both Minji and Y/N stood on the precipice of reaching out, fingers hovering over the keyboard or poised to make a call, only to withdraw. The love that once flowed freely between them had become a silent river, carrying the weight of what was lost.

Night after night, they lay awake, tormented by the echoes of what they could no longer say. The words, heavy with unspoken affection, hung in the air, forming an unbreakable barrier. They yearned to let go, to sever the invisible tether that bound them to a past slipping away like grains of sand through clenched fists.

Yet, the fear of disrupting the fragile equilibrium held them captive. And so, in the silence that echoed louder than any conversation they never had, Minji and Y/N found themselves prisoners of a love they couldn't let go, and a friendship that refused to be forgotten.

a/n: i hope ur ready to cry

[thesightstoshowyou]

The Collector’s Pet Cricket

- A Sight’s OC -

In the darkness I make my music for myself alone,

I sing for the joy of singing.

The fire in my heart is from you.

[excerpts of The Prayer of the Cricket by John Hall Wheelock]

Information:

Name: [REDACTED]

Nickname: Cricket - Bestowed by Asa Emory

Age when taken by the Collector: 25

Current Age: 31

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Hair: Long (falling to her mid-back), straight, chocolatey-brown

Eye color: Left eye is brown, right eye is green

Height: 5’6

Weight: 135lbs

Other notable features: Cluster of freckles across her nose, graceful, and the many, many scars inflicted by Asa

Personality: Reserved, submissive, analytical, intuitive, anxious

Likes: Asa, ballet, reading (mostly high fantasy and adventure), cooking, coffee, pastries, naps

Dislikes: Asa, small spaces, crowds, misbehaving, loud people, pineapple

“Canon” fics featuring Cricket as Reader (the Cricket-verse, if you will):

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader, Ribbon and Lace, Wings, Nightmare, Home, Permission, Timing is Everything, Gift Exchange, Correction, Bug Chocolate, Cold Night, Ice & Handcuffs, Thigh Riding, Bath Time, Omorashi, Late to Dinner, Pie, Choking, Forbidden BJ, Late Night Snack, Two and Five, What’s a Pet Without their Master?, Ripples, Sick Day, Does She Know?, Thunderstorm, Sketch, Office Visit, Wound Care

Backstory:

Cricket’s life before Asa is no longer relevant. All of it now belongs to the Collector. However, one small insight I offer is this:

At the end of Failure, the person that caused the crash upstairs was Cricket.

**

The experiment began as any of the Collector’s tests did: While working with his insects.

Asa spent the morning studying a tarantula infected with Ophiocordyceps unilateralis—cordyceps to the layman. The arachnid stumbled this way and that, controlled totally by the fungus. As Asa observed, his thoughts wandered to those failed subjects stumbling around in the basement of the hotel, drugged out of their minds, uncontrollable, wild like rabid animals.

Could the opposite be accomplished? Could a person be conditioned to follow his orders, and his alone? Could they be trained to be as well behaved and responsive as his dogs?

His thoughts shifted once again to the depatterning and psychic driving experiments performed by MKUltra scientists in the 50s and 60s, as unsuccessful as they were. The framework was already there to create the perfect, mind-wiped puppet. All Asa had to do was expand on it.

Perhaps they just hadn’t pushed hard enough. Burdened by bureaucracy and paperwork, of course they couldn’t accomplish their goals. They did not possess his freedom and foresight.

“Dr. Emory?”

Masking his annoyance at the interruption, Asa glanced up from the tarantula to meet the inquiring gaze of the office secretary. Her glasses looked as though they were about to slip off her face by how precariously they perched at the tip of her nose. In her hands was a clipboard and a pen.

“Shall I mark you down as attending the faculty Christmas party?”

Asa would rather set himself on fire than attend another one of those parties.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied curtly, half-turning back to the enclosure.

“No plus one again?” There was something in her voice, something bordering on the edge of pity. Asa looked back at her again, more ice in his gaze and tone.

“Yes.”

“Very well. Thank you for your time.” Her low heels clicked on the marble floor as she retreated. Asa’s brows furrowed as he slowly twisted back to the terrarium.

Every other faculty member bought a spouse or partner with them to events. He was always the only one without a “plus one.” This never bothered him, of course. He had neither the time nor the patience to deal with the trivialities of romance.

But, it appeared to bother others. Did it make him seem suspicious, Asa wondered? Did it draw too much attention?

Asa leaned over the desk, his fingers splayed out. Tap, tap, tap went his scarred pointer finger. Thoughts, ideas, and solutions fell into place.

Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone.

**

Months pass. Too many months. Too many failures.

The human spirit was proving difficult to break.

Still, he had faith in his abilities and procedures. The only way to go was forward. The three current hopefuls were showing promise, the heterochromatic one in particular. She was docile and pliant. It appeared misbehavior was not in her programming.

The keys on his belt jingled as he stalked down the hall. First, he would check the cameras. Then he would attend to the “pets.”

Room one was as he left it, except the subject’s blue trunk had tipped over. That would have hurt, considering the state of her arm. Dumb little thing.

Room two was quiet. Asa wasn’t sure if the trunk had even moved an inch since his last visit. He was mildly concerned its occupant had expired, but he wouldn’t know until he looked inside.

Room three…. The trunk was open. Empty. Asa’s eyes widened a fraction and darted around the room, but quickly came to a stop on the girl’s sleeping form.

She’d escaped her case, but hadn’t tried to escape the room? The door lock would have been easy enough to break. Interesting. And what was she wearing—

The Collector couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Very, very interesting indeed.

Finally, a breakthrough.