#i love the way you sign off!!! it feels like reading the ending of a letter hehe :D

[usomads]

Hi 🌚 first time request from a friendly reader!

Could you do a Damian Priest as Santa smutty one shot? 🤭

Masquerade // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hi, I saw this wayyyy too late for Christmas so instead we’re taking on New Year’s! This one is soooo long (my bad) but I really love this idea and hope y’all do too. Happy reading!

Plot -> A mystery man and a mystery woman cross paths for the first time, or is it? 

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hickies, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Papi Kink, Unprotected P in V, Public Sex, Creampie, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.4k

Sounds of bass thumping instantly filled your ears as you walked towards the entrance of the large house in front of you, wearing a shimmering gown that hugged your curves in all the right ways. You had been invited to a New Year’s Eve party by your best friend, Damian, but this wasn’t just any party. The host this year evidently wanted to switch things up so instead of the typical New Year’s party they decided to go with a theme, which was why an intricate silver mask adorned your face and hid your identity- the theme was masquerade. You reached the steps, pulling your phone out of your clutch and checking your texts, seeing a message from Damian sent about 5 minutes ago:

“I’ll keep an eye out for you tonight. I know you well enough that a mask won’t hide you from me 😉”

Your thumbs pressed the screen typing out a witty reply, but before you could press send your screen turned black. Shit, you cursed to yourself. You stared at the dead phone in your hands for a moment, thinking back to your preparations from earlier in the evening and scolding yourself for not thinking about putting your phone on the charger before you came. Shaking your head, you slipped your phone back into your clutch and headed inside, showing the invitation to the security at the door. The house was insane, you had never stepped foot in something so nice before, and the fact that you were here without Damian made it all the more nerve-wracking for you. Nothing a drink can’t fix though, right? Your eyes scanned the room looking for any sign of alcohol and spotted a bar at the other end of the room, adjusting the mask on your eyes and walking to it. The room buzzed around you, groups of people talking amongst each other, people dancing in the center, and music playing loudly over the speakers. You reached the bar and sat down, ordering a glass of champagne and watching the party around you until your eyes locked on a figure standing across the room from you, holding a glass of champagne himself and leaning against a pillar. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like a century and you swear the party surrounding you fades entirely, almost as if it were just the two of you. Seeing no sign of Damian anywhere and feeling bold, you stood up from the stool and walked over to him, your hips swaying as he continued to stare you down.

“You know, people either hide in the shadows because they’re looking for something or they want to come off as mysterious. So what might you be hiding?” You grinned at the man in front of you, teasing him with your words. He laughs, a smirk lining his lips as he speaks.

“A bit of both,” the man sipped his drink before continuing, “I could say the same about you. Are you always this bold, or is the mask talking for you?” 

You lean closer to him, lowering your voice. “Maybe it’s the mask… or maybe I’m just intrigued.”

“Intrigued, huh?” His finger traces the fluke in your hand, maintaining eye contact with you. “You might be too curious for your own good.”

A playful look crosses your face as you lean closer to him, your lips brushing his ear. “I’m just getting started. But if you don’t wanna play then…”

He laughs, clearly amused. “Who said I didn’t wanna play? I’ll go as far as you let me… so long as you can keep up.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can. But can you handle me?”

The tone in the man’s voice changes, laced with something deeper. Desire. He leans in, his arm brushing yours as he whispers in your ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. I’d be careful if I were you…”

“Maybe I like a bit of danger,” your voice rang low in his ears, daring him to make a move. And he did, scanning you from head to toe before extending a hand for you to take. You obliged, wrapping your fingers around the rough surface of his palm as he guided you to the dance floor, pulling you closer to him as those same hands found their way to your waist. The heat radiates between you as your bodies sway to the beat of the music. 

“You’re not too bad at this,” you smirk at him.

“Not bad? I was hoping for resounding praise.”  His tone teases, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Alright, let’s not get carried away,” you laugh softly.

“What if I want to?” His eyes lock onto yours and send a shiver down your spine. All of a sudden, it’s just the two of you in this room. You realize you’re completely drawn to him in this moment, drawn to the mystery of the man before you. The thrill and the danger ignites something deep inside you, something you weren’t expecting to feel tonight. You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the crowd roaring around you, counting down to midnight. A fire burns between you with every count down to zero, and the mystery man you’ve been accompanied by all night leans down to you, his lips hovering over your own.

Five. “I think I have to kiss you.”

Four. “You think?” You tease.

Three. He tilts your head by your chin, his lips dangerously close to brushing yours.

Two. The electricity between you is intense, the anticipation growing with each passing second. His eyes are dark as they start into your own, flickering between them and your lips.

Before the last second he closes the gap between you, kissing you with a passion that takes the air out of your lungs. The kiss is deep, intense, and filled with something that you clearly can’t deny as you finally part, leaving you both breathless and momentarily stunned. 

“I never caught your name,” he smiles. 

“Why don’t we start with the masks?” You laugh, nerves slowly take over as you respond. The both of you hesitate momentarily, reaching up to remove the coverings from your faces, a slight nervousness overtaking you. Shock sets in instantly as you slowly reveal your identities to each other, realizing you knew very well who had captured your undivided attention all evening… in fact, you knew too well.

“D-Damian?”

“Y/N?” Damian smiles, a soft chuckle erupting from his chest. “I can’t believe we didn’t realize sooner, some friends we are right?” 

Your soft smile falters slightly, unconsciously dropping at the mention of you being just friends. Your mind was in a daze, having trouble wrapping your head around the fact that the man who drew you in so easily, captivated you, consumed your thoughts all evening– made you crave him in more ways than one was, in fact, your best friend. Suddenly you didn’t want to hear him call you his ‘friend’, and maybe that’s something you’ve been trying to suppress for a while, but now it was impossible to ignore. 

“Yeah…” you mumbled, “friends.” Damian’s brows furrowed at your sudden change in demeanor, his smile also faltering in an attempt to read you.

“Y/N…”

“I need some air...” You brushed past him quickly, retreating before he could follow you– leaving him alone on the dance floor.

After wandering around the house for a while, trying to find somewhere secluded, you stumbled upon a private balcony. You stepped outside, the cool and crisp air pricking your skin instantly as you held onto the railing and tried to calm your breathing. Tears brimmed your eyes as you replayed the events of this evening in your mind, from the conversation to the dancing to the kiss. The kiss. How could you not have known it was Damian? How could you have let this happen? And why did you want it to happen again, and again, and again? 

Damian’s words replayed in your head as a stray tear landed on your cheek– no. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t hide anymore. You wanted Damian, and tonight solidified it. And for a moment, when neither knew who the other was, you knew he did too. You knew he felt it too– that spark, that desire, that need. It was in the way his lips brushed against your ear as he teased you, in the possessive way his hands would find your waist, in the way his lips found yours with such passion and need. And now that you were no longer behind a mask, it was back to ‘just friends’. Back to ‘normal.’ But you knew it would never be ‘normal’ again.

“Y/N,” you were pulled from your thoughts by Damian, who from the sound of him catching his breath sounded like he had been running around the entire house trying to find you. You wiped your face, trying to hide that you had been crying, and spoke up.

“Leave me alone, Dames.” You refused to look at him, staring out at the garden below the balcony, trying to distance yourself from him.

“Y/N, please, talk to me.” He reached for you, his hand brushing your arm, but you swatted it away and turned towards him.

“I said leave me alone, Damian.” Your voice was more stern as you turned to face him, your eyes tinted with red and giving away that you had been crying. Damian’s worried gaze softens as he notices, a pang in his chest growing as he knows he’s responsible.

“Y/N, you know I can’t do that–”

“You’re gonna have to.” You tried to move away from him but he stops you in your tracks, searching your face.

“No! No, Y/N, I won’t. Something’s bothering you… was it the kiss?” You grow quiet, looking down at your feet as to try to avoid having to discuss it but Damian doesn’t let that happen. “Was the kiss not good? What’s going on, Y/N? Please, talk to me. I wanna know what’s wrong…”

“No, the kiss was great. I mean–” you shake the thought out of your head, trying to correct yourself. “The kiss was fine.”

“So what’s the issue? I–” Damian’s face lights up as realization hits him.

“That’s the issue, Dames. It shouldn’t have been that good. We’re friends–”

“But you don’t want that…” Damian studies you as you grow quiet again. He lifts your chin and your eyes flutter closed, not wanting to look at him. “And I don’t want that either.”

Your eyes open at his confession, wide as they search for his. If your head wasn’t spinning before, it sure was now as you tried to make sense of what was happening. He’s not serious, right?

“I am,” he chuckled. Shit, did I say that out loud? Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he continues. “I’ve felt that way for a long time now… I don’t want to go back to how it was before, Y/N– I don’t think either of us want to.” “But you sa–”

“Fuck what I said,” he whispers. “I’ve been hiding how I feel for too damn long. Being with you tonight, albeit under a mask, was the best night of my life…” he thinks about his words, almost reminiscing the events from earlier as he spoke. “To be able to kiss you, flirt with you, touch you how I’ve wanted to for so long… I’ll be damned if I give that up. And something tells me you don’t want me to either.” He eyes you carefully, watching as you take in this revelation from him and, in his mind, pleading with you to feel the same.

“I don’t…” you mumble, your voice lower than a whisper– nearly inaudible.

“I can’t hear you, darling, tell me what you want.” He lifts your chin again, wanting to hear what he’s been dying to hear for months finally fall from your lips. 

“You, Dame,” you whisper, a little louder than before. “I want you.”

His lips crash into yours hard, making you stumble backward and hit your back on the railing of the balcony. You hiss at the cool metal touching your skin, allowing him entrance and his tongue to dominate your mouth. His hands find your sides, turning you around and pulling your body into his. His mouth finds your neck just under your right ear, sucking and biting on the skin as one arm keeps you pressed against him– his hardening cock grinding on your ass, and the other dancing up your spine and finding the zipper of your dress. He slowly drags it down your back, his fingers sending chills throughout your body and a familiar ache to your core. 

“D-Dames,” you moan quietly, his mouth pressing wet kisses along your jaw, “S-someone could s-see us..”

“Let them.” He growled in your ear, “I’m not leaving this party, this balcony, until I get what’s mine.” You whimpered, his words sending a pool of wetness to the place you craved him most. You let the dress pool at your ankles, now topless in only a pair of lace panties– the cool January air hardening your nipples upon contact. You instinctively cover your breasts, feeling completely exposed to not just Damian but to any potential onlookers vying for a show. 

“Uh, uh,” Damian’s hands removed your arms from your chest, “you don’t get to hide from me anymore, you understand? I wanna see you, all of you.” You nod, letting your arms drop to their sides and allowing him to take you in completely. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. I’m in awe of you, baby girl.” You blush for what seemed to be the millionth time this evening as he reconnects your lips, slower and more passionate than the last. Damian wanted you to feel what he felt for you, packaged up in a singular kiss, as his lips massaged yours deeply and lovingly now. He began to work down your body, dropping to his knees to come face to face with your throbbing core– dripping and aching all for him. 

“Sweetheart, you’re a mess… who’s got you like this, hmm?” You whined, involuntary bucking your hips towards him in an attempt to get him to touch you. 

“Please…”

“Gotta answer me first,” he smirked below you, loving how needy he had you. How you were completely and utterly his in this moment. 

“You…” you mumbled.

“Louder, darling, I can’t hear you.” Cockiness oozed from his voice, knowing he had you right where he wanted you and that you– nor anyone else, could take that away from him.”

“Y-you, Dames, fuck– please. I need yo– oh fuck.” Your eyes roll back as his tongue licks through your folds, placing open-mouth kisses along your pussy as he hiked one of your legs over his shoulder and ravaged you with his mouth. His tongue swirled along your entrance as the tip of his nose brushed your clit, sending volts of pleasure coursing through your body. You held onto the railing of the balcony behind you, keeping yourself as balanced as you could while Damian was eating you so good your knees were beginning to give way. Damian moaned against you, the sweet taste of your wetness settling on his taste buds and driving him to taste more of it. Your orgasm inched closer with every flick of his tongue, every moan that vibrated against your throbbing core, and you were a blubbering mess for the man on his knees before you who had every intention of worshipping your body like the temple it is– but not yet.

Damian pulls away suddenly, almost knowing you were on the brink of release as you cried out in response, pleads for him falling from your swollen lips.

“Shhh, don’t worry, baby, I gotchu. Papi’s gonna take real good care of you, I promise. But right now, he needs his pussy…” you shivered once more, somehow growing more turned on than before at his words. Him claiming you. Making you his. “Is that what you want, baby? Want Papi to fuck you good, right here where everyone can see how good you look all fucked out for me?”

“Dames, please…”

“Use your words, princess. Let Papi know what his baby girl needs.”

“I–” Your words caught in your throat, overwhelmed by the prior stimulation and the smooth but sinister way of his words. “I w-want you to fuck me, Papi. Please…” With a sudden movement Damian spins you around, bending you over the railing as your chest presses against the cool metal. Behind you, you hear the sound of him undoing his belt and dropping his clothing to the ground, joining them in a pile with your dress before feeling his hard member tease your entrance. 

“Tell me you need me again, baby, please.” His demand almost sounds desperate, like he himself is holding back his own moans at the thought of you desperate for him.

“I– I need you, Dame. Please, baby, please fuck me. Right he– mmm…”

He slips inside you with a moan of his own, groaning as he feels your walls tighten around his length. He slowly pushes himself deeper inside you, allowing you to adjust but also loving the cries coming out of your mouth as he stretches you around him.

“Fuck, Y/N, so tight f’me, baby… shit. Taking me so well, sweetheart.” Your pussy flutters around him, a groan slipping from his lips as he slowly pulls out and thrusts himself back in, going slow so he can pay attention to how tight your walls are squeezing his cock– but also how your face contorts with every movement of his hips.

“F-faster, please..” And that was all Damian needed, a signal that you were ready for more of him. His hips sped up movement as he thrusted into you from behind, the force jolting your body with every snap of his hips as you cry out in pleasure. His hands hold your hips for leverage, kneading the skin roughly enough that surely bruises would form by tomorrow morning– but you didn’t care. You were drunk, not on champagne but on the feeling of his cock inside you driving deeper and deeper into you, a feeling of euphoria that you never wanted to escape. A hand of his came forward to your clit and rubbed slow circles on the swollen bud, making you instantly tighten around him and cry out his name for all who could possibly hear it. You were close, there was no denying it, and you were prepared to coat his length in your desire for him– only him, and he knew it too.

“I feel you, princess. Go ahead, cum for me. Wanna feel you, baby.” Your release washed over you with force as your body grew limp, your orgasm consuming all the energy left in your body to give to Damian and Damian alone. Your pussy clenched around him as he continued to buck his hips inside you, the sounds of his thrust mixed with your juices echoing outside as he approached his own release.

“Y/N, f-fuck, I’m close, baby girl… gonna fuck this pussy full of my cum… shit.”

“C-cum for me, Papi, let me have every last drop. G-give it to me…” You whimpered in between thrusts and not long after he followed suit, releasing ropes of his cum along your walls and filling you completely– just like he said he would. He brings you upright and wraps his arms around you, holding onto you as his orgasm hits him and finding your lips once more for another passionate kiss. The two of you stay there for a moment, lips locked and fully exposed as you ride out your orgasms together. A few moments pass and your position remains the same, but your attention gets drawn to the grounds below– where guests are leaving the party and heading home for the evening. You stare at each other, wide-eyed, and laugh– collecting your clothing and dashing inside so as to not get caught by any of the guests.

“So, my place?” You smile and nod at Damian, who merely an hour ago had been a stranger in a mask but was now no longer a mystery. You didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, shit, you didn’t know what would transpire after you leave here but one thing is for certain: now, there’s no hiding it.

[simp-ly-writes]

Days & Nights

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.10)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Jayce share 3 days and 3 nights before your move back to Piltover. During these days you both reassure one another's worries for your shared future, go on a date, spend time with friends and family, and pack up your apartment.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, teasing, pet names, sickly sweet fluff (no but seriously), some emotional hurt/comfort (more like reassurances), kissing, suggestive themes, very brief mentions of violence, Evren (OC) being a little pice of shit /affectionately, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 6,050

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: last fic of the year! (2025 sounds so futuristic I hate it here 😭). Also this chapter is kinda filler! next chap wedding? 👀

─────── · ·

─ · · You sit on a lounge within Jayce's hotel room reading one of your new romance novels from your bag. Afternoon passes to early evening and you both had yet to move from your spots, simply enjoying one another's company.

Every time you finished another chapter you would look up and across the room to watch Jayce sign his signature and write letter after letter before sealing each with wax hammer emblem for his house. A part of you felt bad for making him take his work to you and by the sheer amount of letters he had to respond to by the end of the day to make sure they made it back in time...

"Bored of your book already darling?" Jayce asked leaning back in his chair and stretching out his legs. You watch as he picks up his wine glass, swirling the blood red liquid before taking an elegant sip.

"No," you look back down at the page blushing at the desperation of the male love interest and trying to conceal a giggle once they finally kiss, "It's actually getting really good." Jayce watches the way your eyes light up before quickly turning to the next page, the book practically touching your nose as you read the next words carefully before shutting the book and kicking your feet.

Jayce stands, walking over and taking a seat by your feet before extending his hand in a silent ask for the book, you look at his hand and then raised brow- curious. You tuck the book close to your chest shaking your head, "Nope! Sir Antoine is for my eyes only!"

Jayce scoffs, placing his arm across the back on the lounge and his wine on a side table before putting your legs on top of his own and massaging your calves. "Should I be worried about this Sir Antoine?" Jayce teases, giving your leg a squeeze.

You reopen your book, eyes going wide as the scene heats up and you lose yourself again to the text, breathing in sharply through your nose as you read, I want to be your every waking thought, make you feel the ghost of my touch with every step in your walk, understand that you are what makes me breathe. Your jaw drops at what you read- not noticing how Jayce glares at the cover of the book. I have more definition than that guy, he thinks to himself.

You look up from the book to look towards the ceiling, crossing your ankles together as the replay the scene in your head, biting your lip before closing your eyes- and Jayce steals the book as you hastily lean forwards and try and snatch it back.

Jayce stands, your legs falling off his lap as he holds the book up at out your reach. He goes back a few pages, humming and nodding along as you grip his arm trying to force it done to no use. "Jayce!" you plead but your boyfriend simply ignores you and flips to the next page before holding your hip.

"Almost done, just taking notes," Jayce hums, staring down and smiling at your glare before leaning down kissing your nose. You scrunch it, "You don't need notes Jayce," you try and entice his ego into letting the book go but Jayce shakes shakes his head, "apparently I need to do better if you're imaging other men in that brilliant mind of yours."

Its your time to laugh, "Jayce... I was imaging you the whole time." His eyes quickly catch your own, lighting up, mouth in a playful smirk as he marks the page and places it on the lounge before taking you into his arms, "you were now? and what was I doing to you-hm?"

"I mean, you just read it for yourself..." you trail off, playing with the buttons of his dress-shirt and observing the small flowers within the metal design. "Maybe I just want to hear your voice," Jayce counters before pulling away and sitting back at his desk, sighing at the other stack of letters he still has to get through before the end of the day.

You sit back on the lounge picking up the book and flipping to the next more relaxed chapter before reading it aloud for you both, Jayce nods along to the sound of your voice as he slices open another letter and observes it continents.

─────── · ·

─ · · After reading through all of Piltover's words and demands to help Jayce finish up for the day and by having memorized his signature and forging it, you both take the boxes to the front desk to be shipped back home. You grab Jayce's arm while walking down the street and back to your apartment where Ximena and Evren were waiting for you at the kitchen table. "Busy day today?" Evren asks while filling up your glass.

You shrug, "got the marking done for the weekend and helped him with the mail," you explain before stealing a bite off of Jayce's plate watching as he playfully glares at you before returning to his conversation with his mom.

Evren nods, "I'm going to miss you when you're gone..." you smile sadly, reaching your hand over the table to grasp his own, "I'll write to you every week until I annoy you and at that point I'll come for a visit," you explain watching as Evren smiles and squeezes your hand before placing a kiss to the back of it, "I look forwards to then but you have to tell me!"

"Tell you what?" you ask, squinting your eyes- trying to decipher his words before he speaks them to life, "what do you plan to do when you get back? You two moving in together? What are you going to do for work?- or are you gonna be one of those hot little housewives waiting for their man to get home~" Evren teases you with a wink.

You gasp, taking your hand away to cover your mouth, "Evren!" you shout now catching everyones attention at the table as both Jayce and Ximena look between the two of you curiously. Evren leans back in his chair, clutching his stomach as he laughs at your horrified reaction, "I mean... I don't think Jayce would mind-" he manages to speak in between gaps of laughter.

"I hate you," you whine, hiding your face in your hands, head in your lap as Jayce rubs up and down your back only making you feel worse. "You're not making me feel any better, Jayce!" you explain as Jayce slows his movements and leans down to whisper in your ear asking if you're okay.

You quickly sit up, face flushed as you blink away tears from concealing your own silent laughs while pointing a finger and glaring at Evren who simply blows you a kiss. Ximena clears her throat, your eyes snap to her as she looks at you concerned, "what happened, dear? If you don't like the food I can make you something else? If its my son? I apologize, but know that he loves you."

You shake your head, "No, no, the food is delightful as always and Jayce is... yeah," your mind still held up on the housewife comment. Evren chokes on his own drink, picking up his napkin feeling as you kick his shin from underneath the table. "Ouch- hey!" he glares at you staring as you cross your arms over your chest. Jayce sighs, shaking his head with a smile at how you both act like an old married couple together.

Ximena still looks worried as she motions for Jayce to comfort you again, "What did Evren say to upset you?" Jayce asks quietly. You can't look at him, only holding your sights on Evren- daring him to speak first. "Well," Evren sits up in his chair, looking at everyone at the table before keeping his eyes on Jayce for his reaction, eyes shimmering with mischief, "I said that our friend here would give all those high ladies in Piltover a run for their money being the hottest little housewife waiting for their man to get home."

You groan, wanting to become a puddle and seep beneath the floorboards into nothingness. I hate you, I hate you Evren, Why, why why did you say that? You listen as Jayce roars with laughter, feeling his hand caress the back of your head and to your horror, Ximena nods along agreeing with Evren, "I think she holds more class than the entire upper class put together. Oh let me show you the pictures of them together, I enjoyed seeing everyone's jealous faces," Jayce's mom claps her hands together excitedly before grabbing a photo album she's been preparing for your wedding, you want to die.

"Can I just catch a break, please," you beg to the floor watching as Jayce's foot taps the side of yours, you look up to your boyfriend's large eyes holding nothing but care and affection within his irises, "If thats what you want to do, know that I can and will provide for you." You stare at him, watching for a bluff yet Jayce only kisses your forehead before leaning back in his chair, glass in hand as he holds your thigh, squeezing it gently as his mother returns to the table- book in hand.

Evren looks utterly pleased with himself, graciously taking the book, "Damn! You two look so good together, tell me that you still have this dress?" he turns the album around, finger tapping at a photo from Jayce's councillor party. You remember that day vividly, Jayce's hot stare at you throughout the night before carrying you down the hall and then... you bedded another. Jayce tenses beside you, seemingly remembering that fact the same time that you do. He smiles tightly at Evren who quickly looks down to the next page of you and Jayce shopping together, a little girl in your arms.

Evren takes his time looking at that image before passing the album back to Ximena who smiles, "my favourite picture," she comments, closing the book softly before setting it aside. You look around the table before looking at Jayce to find him already looking at you.

Ximena leans over grasping Evren's arm as she whispers into his ear while watching you both with a smile, "It may just be a generational thing but I do hope she considers your words." Evren nods, pulling away before shooting you a horrified look, I promise you I was just kidding, his mouths to you.

─────── · ·

─ · · When night falls you hug Evren goodbye for the night and close the door behind you, Jayce is wiping down the table before looking up at you with a smile. Your eyes feel heavy as you lean against his back and close your eyes with a sigh. Ximena leans against an archway between the kitchen and the living space staring at you both while grasping her hands tightly together underneath her chin.

Jayce raises his arm to get a glimpse of your sleepy form, "tired there are you miss?" he teases, "please know that I have a girlfriend."

"Mmm, I'm sure she wouldn't mind," you murmur back, smiling towards Ximena. "I would think otherwise, I really must go see her if you'll let me go?" Jayce counters, grabbing your hand- interlacing his fingers with your own, gently pulling you off of him. You giggle before running off, "Night, Jayce!" you call from down the hall before closing your door. Jayce scoffs looking towards him mom, "What did I do wrong this time?"

Ximena shrugs, taking the towel from his hands and throws it by the sink, "I haven't got a clue, sweetie," she pats her sons arm looking down at your door, "Maybe she just wants to sleep by herself tonight, nothing wrong with that right?" Jayce lets out a deep long breath, "...yeah I guess." Ximena chuckles before leaving to get herself ready for bed as Jayce debates weather or not to take your couch or to head back to his hotel room.

Suddenly you open your door in one of his shirts as you switch off the lights, "Jayce?" you call, Jayce's heart picks up- hopeful. "C'mere let's sleep-" Jayce races over, picking you up in his arms, closing the door with his foot behind you both before placing you back on your bed.

He quickly undresses himself before sliding himself underneath the covers- smiling as you burrowing your face into the side of his chest with a satisfied hum. "Can we make a rule of not going to bed alone?" Jayce asks softly. You laugh, "Sure, Jayce."

"I'm serious," he speaks softly and your laughter dies, "no matter how angry you are with me or what happens, I just need you there at the end of the day." You press a kiss to his chest, lingering for a moment before pulling away, "same time, anywhere and always."

─────── · ·

─ · · When you step into Evrens office the next day, you are shocked to see his desk covered in cards and parting gifts as various staff and students alike prepare for your impending departure. You smile, ripping through the assortment of ribbons and paper- taking your time to note down each sender and write them a small message back on your break.

Evren looks jealous, taking a look into the various bags and boxes with a huff, "nobody sent me things when I got divorced." You shake your head at your professor friend as he grumbles to himself, stealing a scarf from one of your presents when he thinks you not to be looking before heading to lecture leaving you to conduct office hours.

A knock sounds at the door, "come in!" you yell, quickly disposing of all the wrapping before taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. Jayce walks in, jacket draped over his forearm and briefcase in his other hand as he smiles at you. "Do you have a moment for some questions, miss?" he asks, taking a seat in front of Evren's desk. You giggle, taking a seat in his chair before leaning forwards and trying to conceal your smile. "I have all the time in the world for you, Jayce-my-boy, whatever are your questions, young student?"

Jayce shakes his head, "I'm afraid its a rather serious affair," he deadpans. "Oh? Do go on then," you wave your hand, leaning back in Evren's chair as Jayce leans forwards on the desk. "I need a dinner date." You gasp, the shock... the outrage!

"I do beg your pardon, pupil. But it would be against policy for me to accept your request," you explain, crossing your legs as you place your head on your palm, elbow resting on the arm of your chair. Jayce pouts, ringing his fingers through his hair, "surely there could be an... exception for your favourite student?"

"Thats quite the bold claim you've made there," you respond, eyes gleaming with humour as Jayce stares at you, trying to figure out how to get you to fold. Suddenly he stands, rounding the table and placing his hands on the arms of your chair, boxing you in.

You lean as far back as back in your chair, staring up at Jayce as his face becomes steadily closer to your own. His hair brushing your forehead, his breath hot against your skin as his eyes flicker between your own and your lips, "I can prove it to you if you allow me to show you," he whispers.

You pause for a moment, looking down at Jayce's lips before trailing down to his neck and tie in which you tug him even closer by, you hear him gasp as your lips brush against his, "show me," you murmur before feeling his lips linger against your own. His hand moves to cup your cheek- tilting your head up to deepen the kiss.

You moan giving Jayce access to explore your mouth, you gasp as his other hands joins to hold your face, fingers brushing your cheeks before pulling away as you both gasp for air. "So can I expect to see you in my room at six?" Jayce asks, thumb brushing up against your lower lip as you give it a teasing lick watching as his eyes darken.

"What should I wear?" you ask.

"Honest answer? nothing," he says with a shrug.

"Jayce Talis!" you scold, he smirks, "Same thing from the gala."

"But you've already seen me in that," you pout thinking about the various other articles you've collected for special occasions and a moment like this. Jayce kisses you once more, "But I didn't get to dance with you in it, kiss you in it, make you feel my hand drag up your leg through the slit or watch as it falls to the floor leaving you bare for my eyes only," he explains watching as your cheeks warm and how you push yourself back on the wheeled chair and into a corner of the room, refusing to meet his eyes that drink in your flustered look.

"I thought you were over that night by now," you mumble underneath your breath looking at Jayce through the corner of your eye as he nods his head contemplating- eyes looking upwards to the ceiling as he considers his next words, "I'll always want more of you- doesn't matter if it's then, now, or the future. Sometimes I fear that we won't have enough time to experience it all..."

Your frown at his words, "I think we've experienced more than the average lifetime, Jayce."

"But... I- just," Jayce sighs, "never mind." You stand and walk over to Jayce, picking up one of his arms and placing it around your waist- pressing a kiss to his jaw, "I'll love you regardless of what you say next Jayce... just as long as its within reason," you try and lighten the mood. Jayce sits with your words before opening his mouth again to speak.

"I just want enough moments we share to be happy ones... we just... so much happened to us that I don't want you to look back and regret choosing me," Jayce whispers, blinking a few times before looking over your shoulder.

"Is this what you've thought for sometime?" you ask worriedly, taking his face into your hands when he refuses to meet your eyes, the silence is telling and your heart aches in response. "Jayce," you whisper his name, trying to call him back to you and out of his negative thoughts.

He slowly turns his head, "sorry for ruining the movement," he kisses your cheek and wraps his other arm around your waist. You both stand there for a moment, feeling one another warmth as you press your lips to his softly, whispering, "No, thank you for sharing that with me, Jayce. Never think you're protecting me from your emotions, I want to hear what you have to say, always."

Jayce nods, pressing his lips against your own as you close your eyes, dragging your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp, you feel as his shoulders drop adding a smile to your kiss. "What?" Jayce asks, eyes brightening as he tilts his head watching your smile grow, "I just love you," you respond with a giggle.

Jayce smiles mirrors your own as he gives you a squeeze, lifting his chin to place atop your head, "I love you too."

─────── · ·

─ · · You held a bouquet of flowers in your arms while trying to knock on Jayce's door... you were a bit early... as in an entire hour early but you thought he wouldn't mind.

─ · · Within the room Jayce was still working, hand gripping the pen tightly as he sighed frustratedly, the numbers were just not adding up for what other regions were demanding from Piltover in return for what they were offering... the upper city had already finished rebuilding after the crises. Local businesses were returning back to their regularly scheduled hours and with the people of Zaun being able to freely come up to the surface and vice versa... the old contracts just did not make sense any longer.

─ · · Jayce gripped his hair, leaning back in his chair as he looked down at his watch, she's coming soon... but I have to get this done... fuck, Jayce thought to himself before standing abruptly at the sound of your knock.

He opened the door, startled to see you all ready, hair all done up and in thee dress, he stared for awhile before remembering to let you inside. You placed the flowers at the foot of the bed, kicking off your heels as Jayce smiled offering his slippers before suddenly remembering his dishevelled appearance.

His shirt was unbuttoned half way, tie left stranded on the desk. His forearms are on display, tattoo dragging up his arm that he scratches the back of his head with- hair a waterfall against his forehead. "Today is just my day it seems," he sighs while looking at the flowers you brought him and he had nothing to offer you, feeling disappointed with himself.

"You look good, my love. I enjoy the relaxed look," you say honestly. Jayce furrows his eyebrows in question, "Jayce..." you laugh fully now, falling back into the bed, "I looked at pictures when you first came back and..." you blush, "...you looked good then." Jayce shakes his head, disturbed someone had shown you pictures.

"That was something I tried to hide purposefully-" he begins to explain, embarrassed as he pinches the bridge of his nose as you bat your eyelashes up at him. "Why?" you cut him off, curious as you sit up slightly, leaning back on your elbows.

"I just didn't want you to see me at such a low point, such a mess," he explains before joining you on the bed, placing his head in your lap to cover his face. Someone's the shy one today, you think to yourself.

"You don't always have to look your best or be strong for me, Jayce. I promise thats only a fraction of you that I fell for," you reassure him, relieved to be getting all the doubts and worries out now.

"But I just want to be the best man for you," Jayce picks up, body hovering over your own.

"You are, Jayce. The man I love is selfless, intelligent and above all, kind. He kisses me after a long day of work, dances with me even when I step on his designer shoes, laughs at my terrible jokes, and is always there to bring me up no matter how many times I don't think I am worthy of all this love and attention that he too seems to forget he is just as worthy of feeling regardless of being the "man" everyone else tells him to be. You are everything I need or could ever want you to be, Jayce." you are nearly breathless by the end of your speech and the way in which he kisses you passionately, unable to contain his affections.

"Could I marry you now?" Jayce, equally breathless asks in a tone light yet holding an edge of sincerity to it.

"You're mother would be severely disappointed... I would also be taking her Mrs. Talis title," you counter yet knowing within yourself you would go down to the courthouse now without a care for any large ceremony.

"I guess you're right... but then again, she'll more than understand. Know that when we get to Piltover theres nothing stopping me from becoming your husband," Jayce states as you look up at him, fingers brushing his lip, picking up the edges to make his smile grow, hands falling once seeing it spread on its own. "Mr. and Mrs. Talis," you hum to yourself, testing the titles you had already been called countless times on accident, "Mrs. Talis," Jayce echos, a part of you in shock that one day it would be official.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your inside date would tick off every box Jayce had mentioned earlier. A record played in the background as he twirled you dizzy before crashing you against his chest and tilting your head up into a dizzying kiss that held your knees weak. His mouth distracts your trail of thoughts as you feel how his hand drags up your leg, up and under the slit of your dress and towards your undergarments before the phone rings.

Jayce holds you against him, breaths ragged as he reaches over to pick up the phone, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Hello?" you bite your lip at his baritone, not quite listening to what he says but how he says it. "Dinners here," he explains as the line dies, you nod your head, dragging yourself out from underneath his hold and ensuring that you look... somewhat presentable as people set the table and leave quickly that has you looking over yourself worriedly before noticing the mark you left above Jayce's collar bone on display... and the over a dozen lipstick kisses across his skin and dress-shirt... oh.

"Gods, it looks like a ripped you apart," you say, reaching from your glass, chiming it against Jayce's who smiles underneath the lip of the glass, "a good thing, no?" He tries to boost your ego. You roll your eyes, "everyones gonna think I'm just using you," you grumble, taking a bite off your plate.

"You're welcome to," Jayce indulges you with a wink, tongue swirling around one of his canines as stare at him for awhile, "Sometimes I question how long I withstood your advances."

"I question that too," Jayce admits, "when I first started I was willing to do just about anything for you to see me" You gasp, "so you knew exactly what you were doing!" You think back to the various times you thought to have caught him in a state of undress, imagining him purposefully placing things too high for you to reach, or calling you anything but your name in front of your peers.

"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · Waking up in the morning you both took a slow morning getting ready before heading back to your apartment and starting to pack everything away with the help of Ximena and Evren.

Suspiciously all the heavy boxes you packed and tried to hide to carry later were all taken and gone. Your furniture was going to stay for the next household as You and Evren worked around it, folding your clothes into bags and boxes alongside wrapping the glassware in the kitchen with Ximena.

Jayce was in a pair of kakis and black t-shirt, sweat dripping down his forehead as took a box out of your hands and walked out the door not listening to your demands of helping to carry things as Ximena dragged your arm back to the living room to finish taping the boxes on the table.

Seeing Jayce out of the corner of your eye, you dropped your chest over the box protectively, "If you don't let me carry this box Jayce I'm leaving you at the aisle," you threaten, standing and walking to the door as Evren silently trails behind giving Jayce a look up and down watching as he wipes the sweat off his forehead.

"You two are going to be somethin' huh?" Evren yells before stepping outside after you, loud enough for both you and Jayce to react separately with laughs.

─────── · ·

─ · · Everything was loaded onto a train carriage headed a day ahead of you all to arrive when you got there. Jayce laid on your bed, chest down as you startled his hips, massaging his back. You laughed listening to him complain about your cold fingers before groaning as those same fingers loosened a knot in his lower back, "I told you to let me help you," you pressed down a bit harder as Jayce whined, biting his lip, the pain felt relieving to the stress he felt within his muscles.

You lessened your pressure, working your way upwards as your hands traced his shoulders before squeezing them. Jayce burrowed his face, groaning into the comforter you would be taking on the train as you laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his neck. "Feels good?" you tease watching as Jayce slowly shows his face again, mischief in his eyes that has you slightly worried for his next words, "stealing my line there are you sweetheart?"

You flush not knowing how to respond but thankfully you wouldn't have to, freezing at a scream, heads whipping over to see an embarrassed Evren who thought to be walking in on your both. "Evren! I'm just massaging Jayce's back, promise," you reassure your friend as he hesitantly opens his eyes before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Do you both ever fear being too attached together?" he asks seeing how Jayce reaches behind feeling for your hand as you lace your fingers together, you both think for a moment, "We can last at least a week with no contact," you nod, "Yeah, maybe two depending on how earlier weeks were."

You and Jayce proceed to go back and worth determining that the longest timing with different prior variables. Evren was not planning to witness you both debate like old times in the lab as you get back to rubbing his shoulders and neck; Hypotheticals and theories, what if I sent a gift part-way? Would letters count as contact? What If I visited part way and then left... could we go longer then?

"I think the answers conclusive, 3 weeks with at least two visits and gifts," you tap Jayce's back, sliding off as Evren does not know weather to feel disgusted by how sweet you both are with one another, disturbed by how telepathically you read one another, or enamoured by the affection you both share. "I cannot believe you even decided on getting with that officer," Evren jokes as you roll your eyes, "don't remind me about him, that was a poor choice on so many levels. But then again... If I hadn't done that Jayce and I may not have gotten together in the end."

"Still not thanking that fucker," Jayce curses, throwing his shirt back on before extending a hand, helping you off the bed, "oh no, I was going to try and invite them to the wedding," you joke... Jayce stares blankly at your head in response as Evren smiles at you both, "I love you two."

You rush over hugging Evren tightly knowing that this would be one of your final moments together, "Love you too Ev!"Jayce joins the hug as you both smush Evren between your bodies, "Now this was NOT the threesome I'd imagine," Evren says, patting both of your arms gently with a wheeze.

─────── · ·

─ · · You count every bag and item on your person before double checking Jayce's hotel room to ensure you both got everything. Evren and Ximena were both waiting for you on the tracks, watching as the luggage got loaded.

"I told myself not to cry," Evren says to himself with a pout, blinking profusely as if to delay the tears... yet it only seemed to make them come faster as he sniffled, dragging you into a hug as you both swayed side to side, "Why am I getting so emotional? We only hung out for what... a few months?"

"Ouch, Ev. I thought my friendship meant more to you," you joke, rubbing his back seeing as his glasses fog up, "It does I assure you. Just like how I'm dead set on delivering a speech at your wedding." You groan at the thought of it knowing that in your many nights out together after class... you told him almost every secret you had to share.

"You wouldn't do that to me!" you try and guilt trip him, feeling as he shakes his head, pulling away from the hug, a smile returning to his face that matches your amused one, "Consider it payback for leaving me here."

"I told you you're welcome to come back, I'm sure I could find a spot for you within the Academy?" you counter. "I'll get back to you on that once the loneliness settles in."

"Whatever you need, Ev. Whatever you need," you reassure him, pulling the professor in for one last hug before standing off to the side watching as Ximena gathers her own hug before joining you observing as Jayce and Evren hold a handshake, unsure of what they are whispering to one another.

─ · · "Take care of my friend, please," Evren asks quietly, "I know I joke about it a lot but divorce does hurt." Jayce nods firmly, eyes determined without a trace of fear or doubt, "I promise you I will and I don't mean my words lightly."

"Thank you."

─────── · ·

─ · · On the train back to Piltover you sit beside Ximena as you both share your combined excitement to see if parts of the upper city were how you remembered and what restaurants you both wanted to sit in as soon as you got back.

Jayce leaned back on a bench opposite of your both, watching with a smile wishing he brought a camera to capture this moment for all of eternity. You and his mom held hand, shaking with laughter as she recalled various stories from Jayce's childhood you had yet to hear.

"Oh and Jayce used to make pretend weddings in school wanting to stay in his uniform like a suit. And did I ever tell you about how he caught his hair on fire the first time in the forge? Or what about the hour before you arrived to our house for the first time?- Jayce was pacing around the kitchen nearly digging a hole into the floor with worry. 'What if she doesn't like the food, mom?' 'Oh god I never asked if she came from nobility?' 'Is it bad of me to be worried this much?'" Ximena looks lovingly towards her son who blushes a furious red, "mom you were just as worried as I was!" he counters with a huff.

You smile, "I was worried too that I was overdressed or what address you by the wrong title. I also didn't know what work material to bring without feeling intruding even when thats what you requested," you explain as Ximena grabs shakes your hand in her own. "You were so beautiful that day, I think I fell in love myself," you laugh lightly, "I can see where Jayce gets his charm from."

"Only learned from the best," Jayce adds.

─────── · ·

─ · · You and Ximena had yet to move from your spots when Jayce came back in his sleepwear. Laying down in the cot he looked between you and his mom, lingering on your form with consideration. Ximena caught his look, "If you didn't keep her from me earlier in the week, Jayce, you would have more time together now." You shake your head in humour, "I'll get ready in a few minutes, my love. Just discussing flowers for the wedding."

Jayce frowns but nods, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest trying to create a comforting weight. You continue your conversation yet can't help your eyes from constantly darting to look at Jayce with longing. Ximena shakes her head, "alright, I'll let you both sleep now. See you two in the morning," she stands, kissing your cheek gently before moving to her own room two doors down in the carriage.

You watch as Jayce opens his arms expectantly- not being able to contain your laugh before rushing over and collapsing against him. "G'night," you mumble, pressing the light-switch beside the bed feeling as Jayce shuffles the blankets over you both in the small cot.

Jayce's turns on his side allowing you more space as intertwine your legs, "Night, sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: I think this series is officially the longest thing I've ever written... WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, JAYCE TALIS 🫠

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420

[gigisaquarium]

I have a request!! Just general headcanon of zoro and reader in an established relationship. How they met, how they got together, how they navigate being together and being cremates, etc!

𐙚 Hello, my love!! Thank you for your request!! I have so many thoughts about him, so this is perfect timing!

𐙚 Summary: Silly head canons with a silly man

𐙚 Warnings: Small nsfw towards the end

• For a shier reader, I would assume that you and Zoro met when Luffy recruited you to help pick up around the ship

• I feel like he wouldn’t approach you until you approached him, which, obviously, would take a heap of confidence

• For a more bubbly reader, I have this whole story in my head about the straw hats docking at this island and Zoro finds himself in this old restraint with shit lighting

• It’s nearly empty, but he sits down at the bar, and you’re across the row, and you just start talking to him. Surprisingly enough, he takes a liking to you, and you end up talking all night because you have this dream of getting off this island

• Anyways, for a shy reader and a bubbly reader from here on out, you end up getting close on the ship

• Zoro likes your wit and appreciates that you know when to leave him alone

• When he feels like the two sides of a romantic relationship and a platonic relationship are beginning to bleed together, he takes a step back, and can be rather standoffish

• He didn’t know what he wanted, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to commit to anything if you were feeling the same way he had been

• He couldn’t sleep for nights on end. He was up thinking about you, hating himself for avoiding you, hating you for making his feelings more complicated than they should be, and hating Luffy because he bit his leg earlier that day

• Finally, when he can hardly take it anymore, he writes all of his feelings down in a little notebook and wraps it in saran wrap he stole from Sanji

• He throws it into the ocean the next day

• Luffy stretches to grab it “Zoro you dropped your notebook :3”

• Zoro wants to punch Luffy

• But he takes it as a sign he was meant to keep those feelings and express them

• He apologizes for ignoring you and gives you the notebook to read, just not in front of him

• Technically, it was never said out loud, but you began your romantic relationship when, later that night, you slipped a little piece of paper under his door with your feelings on it

• It was definitely difficult being in a relationship while being crew mates, for Zoro, at least.

• How he explained it was that he never got a chance to miss you

• Then, in natural Zoro fashion, he got lost, being separated from you

• That’s when he figured out he didn’t want to miss you. He wanted you to always be there, because this was an awful feeling

• When he somehow makes it back to you again, he’s slightly more affectionate than he typically is, taking every chance he got to gently kiss the top of your head or wrap his arms around you

• That’s definitely where everything begins to smoothen out for you two

• Everything comes more naturally, and often times, the two of you are laughing together, or you’re trying to wrestle him while he stands still, unmoving and uninterested

• Of course, both of you have your downtime where you can enjoy some alone time

• But if you miss him during your alone time, tell him, because he misses you too

• He likes playing with your hair when someone is rambling to him. It helps him not pay attention to whatever they’re going on about

• “And that’s why we should stop here, I… are you listening?” “What”

• I think you guys wait a long long time before you get intimate

• Tbh I think Zoro is a virgin when he meets you, idc

• Something about his stupid face screams virgin (In a loving, appreciative way)

• So one night, when everyone is off the ship, I think he plans something romantic enough

• It’s nothing too much, just a good place to start, and he definitely makes sure you know he loves you

• Even if he doesn’t say it a lot, he wants you to know

• “Zoro wants me to tell you he has a crush on you” “No, that’s not what I said”

i think im funny (im not)

[buoyantsaturn]

fics I read in 2024 that made me go crazy

wherever he is, is where I'll go (what if I said he's down below?) by Caora / @curseofdelos [T, 68,790, 4/4]

When Will ventured into the underworld for the first time, he was hoping to find his sister. He did not expect to find Nico di Angelo. After the tragic death of his sister Gracie, Will Solace hatched a plan - go to the underworld, seek an audience with Hades, and lead her out of the underworld just like Orpheus had tried before him - but his attempts were immediately waylaid by Hades’s mysterious son, Nico. What started off as a rivalry shifted into something more, and soon Will found himself dropping by the underworld every week to spend time with the boy who stole his heart - and whose heart he may have stolen back. There was just one problem: Nico couldn’t leave the underworld and Will couldn’t stay. Despite the insurmountable odds, Will was determined to make a relationship between them work - if only he could find a way to get Nico out. (Canon Divergent AU in which Nico grew up in the underworld. Solangelo star-crossed lovers. Witten for the Solangelo Week AUctober prompts light/dark/boundary.)

When The Day Bleeds by Wrish / @espritwrish [M, 85,780, 6/6, MCD]

There's not a lot left in a world ravaged by monsters, and yet Nico still somehow finds himself face to face with possibly the most infuriating boy he's ever met. -- Nico stared at the wheelchair in disdain, looking for a sign that Will was joking. “Seriously?” Will nodded, a grin forming on his face, “Could not be more serious.” Glaring, Nico couldn’t help the childish urge and flung his arms out, gesturing to the others in the room, “No one else needs one.” He challenged, irritation thoroughly sparked in his chest. “No one else needed to be handcuffed to a gurney.” Will deadpanned, eyes still sparkling with mirth, “Chair, now. Doctor’s orders.” -- How the hell had his life ended up this way?

Sour by Skitty_chii / @icravestrawberryflavoureddeath [T, 91,646, 14/14]

(part one of the Tasteless series) “Hey, I’m a gay man. The only things that scare me are God and the government, I just don’t understand all of that,” he said as he gestured to Piper. She rolled her eyes, but was still smiling. “But hey, at least you can listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s album and really feel it now.” Piper let out the loudest laugh she could, her entire body was shaking as she doubled over. Nico couldn’t help but copy her. They had joked about her and Jason breaking up just so she could listen to the album to the fullest about a month ago, but now that joke was a bit too real. “Oh, god. You’re fucking right.” Nico decided that he could keep making jokes as it seemed like Piper was starting to feel a bit better. “God, I wish I had someone to break up with to listen to it. We could go through this together,” he joked, but Piper just grinned and raised a brow. “Why don’t you just ask someone to date you and then break up.” “What the fuck?” “Seriously,” she started, “I think that would be so fucking funny.” “Who would I even ask to do that?” “Why not Will?”

Olympus Detective Agency, Inc. by hello_blue_moon / @hello-bluemoon [T, 44,496, 12/12]

“Will saved the contact to his phone, then swiped back to the message and stared at the words written there. P. Jackson & A. Chase: Olympus Detective Agency. And that was how it began.” Or: the modern detective AU that nobody asked for.

Falling With You by emi @thelordofshrimp [T, 1,635]

They’d watched their way through genre after genre, with the notable exception of any movies strictly about romance. Will’s third suggestion of the Princessbride, though it was technically a love story, had made the list because the action outweighed the “kissing parts.” It hadn't been a spoken decision, but when Will scrolled through online lists of movies, he’d read all the titles, except for the rom-coms. Nico never pointed it out.

Delilah by daniearnest / @softhearted-dani [M, 6,585]

“I don’t understand,” Jason said, swirling his straw in his milkshake without looking. “What’s so hard to understand about he isn’t my boyfriend?”

love is like ghosts (few have felt it but everybody talks) by Caora / @curseofdelos [T, 38,447]

Nico had a timer on his forearm that counted down to the moment he met his soulmate. It did not, however, tell him what he was supposed to do once he met them. Nico di Angelo hated the concept of soulmates. He wanted to choose who he spent his life with, and he certainly didn’t trust a stranger not to break his heart. True love was something that happened to other people; it did not happen to him. If given the choice, Nico would have gone the rest of his life without ever meeting his soulmate, but no, the universe just had to pair him with Will Solace, a hopeless romantic he had nothing in common with and who thought Nico’s approach to soulmates was cynical and pessimistic. It couldn’t work. It shouldn’t work… …but Fate had a plan for him, and Nico was about to learn that falling in love was a long slow descent. (Solangelo soulmate AU. Written for Solangelo Week Day 4 - AU.)

put your hand in mine through space and time by myileo / @onion-dishwasher [T, 8,671]

It was an hourglass. Simple, practical, portable. As tall as his hand was long. Fine golden grains trickled down. Whatever length of time it counted was halfway passed. “What’s it counting down to?” Will asked. “The end of the world?” Nico’s hold on it was gentle, as if he were holding a glass flower that would shatter from the smallest breeze. “Something like that.” . In which Will meets Nico in every universe.

Salvage by MuffinLance / @muffinlance [T, 127,145, 20/20]

Mid-Season-One Zuko is held for ransom by Chief Hakoda. Ozai's replies to the Water Tribe's demands are A+ Parenting. Hakoda is… deeply concerned, for this son that isn't his, and who might be safer among enemies than with his own father.

good old-fashioned lover boy by brainrot247 [G, 2,338]

“I swear to the gods if you touch that door handle, Solace,” Nico threatened, opening his own door and climbing out quickly. Kayla and Will watched Nico round the front of the car before Will turned to look at her, humor dancing in his eyes. “Watch,” he said. He reached for the door handle and cracked open the door just as Nico made it to his side. Without pausing, Nico threw his hand against the door and shut it again. ____________________ or, five things nico is a little romantic about

[jeonginslefthand]

A day in your garden 🪴 🌱

Pairing: FlowerShopOwner!ChoiSan x reader Genre: Little Shop of Horrors AU/Fluff Word count: 3.7k+  Plot summary: You decide to see that flower shop owner again and he decides to show you his favorite place.   Warnings: Murder towards the end. That’s it. A/N: This is part two of my Little Shop on 8th Street series! For those who’ve been keeping up so far, thanks for waiting so patiently!! Also, this is technically my last fic for the year so have a happy new year everyone, and here’s to more writing in 2025!! Click here for part 1 of the series! Little Shop on 8th Street masterlist ATEEZ masterlist

~~~

After a long day of running more errands, you swiftly lay down on your bed as tiredness washes over you. You pull out your phone to begin your nightly doom scrolling, but your mind continues to wander off to the flower shop owner San. You replay your interaction with him today over and over thinking of all the things you could’ve said to him, questions you should’ve asked to get to know him better, wondering when you could see him again. Your heart flutters thinking about his visuals, the structure of his beautiful face, the slickness of his hair, the way his shirt perfectly hugged his toned muscles, it’s an image you paint in your mind over and over again. Until you break out of your trance and come back to reality.

Wait, why am I acting like this? You think to yourself. You haven’t felt this way about anyone in a while. You also don’t usually believe in love at first sight, but something about San is different. Maybe you are too focused on his looks, or maybe it’s the way he carries himself. Maybe it’s his passion for what he does. Whatever it is, you want to see where this goes and that hopefully it works out well. 

~~~

A week passes by and you return to the flower shop once more. Only this time, you’re not looking for anything specific, at least regarding plants. This time you’re hoping to see the owner again, who’s been making your heart race every time you think of him for the past week. You walk up to the door only to be met with a disappointing sign posted on the door. 

“Little Shop on 8th Street will be closed today. Come back tomorrow!” The sign read with a cute drawing of a bunny in the corner. 

“Dang…” you say to yourself. A part of you understood. It seemed like he ran the shop by himself. Of course, he’ll need a break now and then. Maybe you can stop by tomorrow. You still have work in the morning, but can always visit in the afternoon.

“We’re not closed for my new favorite customer!” you hear a voice behind you say and you turn around startled. 

You see a smiling San towering over you as he’s carrying lots of gardening supplies and a heavy bag of soil. 

“Jeez this is the second time you scared me like that!” you respond. 

“Sorry, bad habit of mine. Do you want to come inside?” 

You nod in response and wait for San to get the shop keys. You notice him struggle reaching for his keys and you offer to help hold some of his supplies. He eagerly agrees and hands you some plant potting and plant seeds. He then successfully reaches his keys and opens the door to the shop, leading you inside. The shop looks just about the same since the last time you visited, but there’s a feeling of emptiness this time. Maybe it’s the knowledge that no one else will dare enter the shop, but following around San while standing mere inches away from him feels different than the last time the two of you were in the shop alone.  

“I realized I never got your name the last time,” San says breaking the silence. 

“Oh! I-It’s [Y/N]!” you stutter startled by his sudden statement.

“[Y/N]... such a lovely name! A pretty name for a pretty girl like you!” San responds making you blush hearing your name from his mouth. 

San leads you to the back of the store to a storage room and turns on the lights. You’re welcomed with more gardening supplies, plant starters, and flowers growing small buds that aren’t in bloom yet. 

“You can put the gardening supplies over on that shelf,” San says breaking you from your trance.  

“Oh! Okay!” you say eagerly heading over to the supplies. You begin sorting through the supplies, doing your best to figure out where the right places are. You eventually pick up on where things go, but get stuck on the last item realizing it goes on the top shelf. You do your best to reach the shelf but continue to struggle for a while trying to find a way to reach the top. Until you feel a hand graze your wrist and take the supply you were holding, moving it to the top shelf. 

“You know you can ask for help! Nothing wrong with that!” San says behind you. You start to realize how much taller he is than you. And how bigger his body is compared to yours. Add that with the sound of his breathing filling the room and the air of his breath running down your neck is enough to give you goosebumps, making this situation more intimate than anticipated. 

“G-good to know!” you respond holding back how worked up you are right now. “Anyway, that was the last thing I had so I’ll be on my way ou—”

“Wait! I want to show you something.” San interrupts. 

“Yeah?”

San steps away and begins walking out of the storage room as you follow. You both walk around the shop until you reach a staircase and you follow San up. This leads you both to the shop's second floor where you’re now standing in a common area. You look at your surroundings, noticing the kitchen with the sink halfway filled with dishes, the couch mostly clean with some clothes here and there, and another staircase you assume leads to a third floor. San quickly realizes the mess and frantically straightens a few things up. 

“Apologies for the mess. Had I known you would stop by, this would have looked much neater,” San explains as he throws clothes into a laundry area. 

“It’s okay! I’m the one who stupidly stopped by on your day off.” You respond. “And trust me, my place is much worse.”

“I would love to see it sometime! I’m sure it’s lovely messy or clean.”

“Hmm… maybe give me a heads up so you can see it in its fresh clean state!”

“Or maybe I’ll swing by on your day off! Then we’ll be even no?”

“Fair point. Now I’m sure the thing you want to show me is not your living room right?”

“Oh! That’s right! Follow me.”

San walks up the second set of staircases and you follow. The stairs lead to a rooftop patio filled with an assortment of plants. You recognize some you have seen in the store, but plenty of others you haven’t seen. The collection of plants are arranged like a garden. With the carefully crafted color scheme and the combining scents of the flowers filling your nostrils, you feel like you could get lost in this garden forever.

“This is so beautiful…” you say to San in awe.

“Welcome to the Little Shop’s secret garden! I come up here to work on personal plant projects and sometimes to get some fresh air after a long day.” San replies.

“Personal projects? Like what?”

“Well… I like cross-breeding different flowers. It’s so interesting to see what new features come from them. And sometimes I grow the plants I sell here. I have to know how best to take care of the products so I can inform the customer. What better way than to experiment in my own home.”  

“That’s amazing!! And cross-breeding is difficult. Tried it one time and didn’t get far…”

“Takes a lot of practice. Everything that goes into the process is very strategic. Believe me, it took a long time to get my method down.”

San picks up a watering can and starts walking around. You tag along admiring the array of plants bringing life to the patio. As San is watering plants, he stops on a particular flower. You stand next to him, feeling something drawing you to the flower. 

“Seems like you like the lilacs!” San says.

“Had a feeling they were lilacs. They look a bit different though.”

“These are my crossbreed lilacs and they’ve been the most difficult ones. They only crossbreed with other lilac species so it’s been a lot of trial and error, mostly error.”

“The way the colors blend is so pretty, reminds me of a sunset. And the leaves… they’re shaped into tiny hearts.” You go to touch one of the leaves as you’re admiring them. 

“Want to know something? The two breeds that created this can only be cross-breed with each other. I tried other lilac breeds on them but it hasn’t worked out. It’s like the two breeds were made for each other. Like they were waiting for their perfect match.”

“Huh, true love found through plants… who would’ve thought—” You think to yourself. 

San gets closer to the lilacs as he carefully waters them. Something is soothing about the way he waters this specific plant. The way each droplet falls on each leaf perfectly and how he monitors the amount of water going in. Delicately tipping the watering can making sure the water pressure is just right, like the lilacs could break at the slightest miscalculation. 

You follow San around some more as he waters more plants. He even hands you the watering can and lets you water some of the plants. You’re very familiar with this sort of task but you still allow San to help you. And by helping you, putting his hands where your hands are, and guiding them to water the plants with just the right amount of water. 

Following the garden adventure, you stay a little longer in San’s apartment. San pulls out some wine and two glasses and you both begin to loosen up and get comfortable. A little too comfortable. 

“So what’s a handsome man like you really doing in this small town?” You ask in a more sultry tone than usual.

“I already told you, I wanted to get away from the big city. I love the smaller towns anyway. They have so much more to appreciate than the crowded stuffy cities.” San responds. 

“Reallyyy? Are you sure you’re not getting away from other things? Like a dark secret past? Or… a dark secret ex?” You mentally question why you said the last part. Why would you randomly ask about his relationship life when you barely have gotten to know him?

“You’re funny. Unfortunately, there’s no dark past or… crazy ex for me. I had a… pretty uneventful life in the city…”

“Dang. Not even one crazy ex story? I feel everyone has a crazy ex story.”

“Not me, unfortunately. But… what about you? Do you have a crazy ex story?” 

“Oh yeah! This one dude I dated Minho was insane. I don’t know why I even dated him. First, he was so obsessed with his cats which was weird but I didn’t think anything of it. Then he would always get jealous when I hung out with my guy friends, a little too jealous. He even got jealous when I hung out with my brother once and it was super weird. One time, we were on a break from each other and it turned out that he was stalking me and taking pictures of me wherever I went. It was so strange!”

You kept going on and on rambling about Minho as the alcohol fully took over you. In your mind, you wondered why you were even telling all this to San. Being with Minho was not the best moment of your life but here you are joking about it like it was nothing. Part of you wondered if you would have been able to tell all this to San without the alcohol. Perhaps he just has a presence that makes him easy to trust. After all, he did let you into his home so you assume that there is some connection between you two.

“Anyway, I definitely only kept going back to him because he was hot and I was desperate. I mean who wouldn’t keep going back to a beauty like this?” You wrap up by showing San a picture you still had of Minho. “It’s a shame he turned out to be a psycho…” 

San closely examines the photo like he wants his face imprinted in his mind. He chuckles and mumbles “Not as pretty as me though.”

“What was that?” You ask. You heard what he said, you just wanted to hear it again.

“Nothing,” San responds. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you are in no position to drive home. Do you want me to call a cab?”

“It’s fine. I walked here and I can walk back.” 

“Then, let me walk back with you!”

You let San walk you back to your home. The two of you are about to part ways on your porch when San suddenly says “Do you maybe want to hang out again sometime? Maybe we can go somewhere that doesn’t involve flowers.”

You pause, shocked at the sudden proposition. “S-sure I would love that!”

“Great!” San pulls out a notepad and pen from his pocket and starts writing something down. He then tears the paper off, folds it, and hands it to you.

“Here’s my cell number. Text me when you’re available!” 

“Well, guess I’ll be seeing you again soon!” You smile. 

You unlock your door and head inside and you see San start walking back toward the direction of his shop. As you close the door you giggle to yourself feeling like you just scored big time. You open the note and pull out your phone ready to save his number as you read it to yourself:

“3XX-5XX-8XXX! Text me soon dear ;)” it reads with a bunny doodle and some flowers surrounding it. 

~~~

Three days pass without San hearing from you. He worries a little bit that he was too forward, but also assumes that you’re hopefully just busy. He keeps himself distracted by interacting with the other customers in the store remembering he still has to make a living. 

About two hours before closing San decides to clean up around the shop and he hears the front bell jingle. 

“Oh hi! Welcome to the Little Shop!” San cheerfully says looking up toward the door. “Anything I can help you with today?”

“Oh, I’m just looking around for now.” A man with a soft voice says.

“Well let me know if you need any help! You can come find me at the register.” 

San finishes cleaning his area and walks back to the register. He also gets a clearer look at the man who is currently checking out the begonias. In his mind, San feels he looks familiar and he’s searching through his mind where he’s seen his face before. And then the dots start connecting and a lightbulb lights up in San’s mind.

“Oh. My. God. THAT’S Y/N’s ex!” San thinks to himself. Granted he was a little tipsy when he saw the pic of him, but San was sure that was Minho. He looked a little different from the photo, possibly because of his longer hair, but his facial features are an exact carbon copy. 

San wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, he thinks he should leave him alone and let him shop like a normal customer. On the other hand…

“Audrey keeps pestering me about needing to be fed. And that plant’s not gonna last on my blood much longer. It’s not like I would be killing an innocent person either. He seemed like he caused so much pain in Y/N’s life, despite her hiding it through her jokes. And I can do it discreetly now that I’ve waited long enough to drive out suspicion…” 

“Hey! Flower boy I need some help!” Minho calls out to San.

Snapping out of his thoughts San quickly walks over to Minho, holding two flower pot samples. 

“Which one would be the better option for my girlfriend? It’s our anniversary and I want to get something special.” Minho asks. 

“Well I’m not familiar with your girlfriend’s preferences, but for an anniversary, I would recommend the lilies. They’re in season and will look stunning bundled in a bouquet.” San responds. 

Minho contemplates San’s suggestion and nods in agreement. 

“Alright! Then I’ll take two bouquets! One all black and one all pink.”

“Great! Follow me to the register and I’ll ring you up and get some more information!” San responds, putting on his best customer service voice. 

San leads Minho to the register and starts ringing him up while taking down other important information.

“So I will need time to prepare the arrangement which should take about 1-2 days. I will contact you by phone when the flowers are ready. Would you like to add a personalized note with the bouquet?” San says to Minho.

“Actually yes,” Minho responds clearing his throat. San prepares to write down the message in his notes.

“Awesome! What would you like the note to say?”

“To my kitten… Fate may often separate us, but it will always align for us to be together. Love you dearly my darling Y/N, waiting for fate to bring you back soon.” 

San stopped his writing as soon as he heard your name. Now he can confirm, this dude is psychotic. He also now knows that he’s been lying the entire time. According to your tipsy rant last night, you’re not his girlfriend, at least not anymore. 

“This man is beyond insane he’s delusional… just what is he planning?” San thinks to himself. 

He pretends to write down the part that he missed after your name and seemingly reads it over to himself. 

“Huh… interesting note for an anniversary bouquet. Is your girlfriend traveling right now?” San asks.

“Not really. But um, we haven’t seen each other in a while, and last time we talked she said she wanted to “take a break.” I hope to make up with her on our technical anniversary with these lovely flowers.” Minho responds. 

San pauses to think to himself again. 

“I was hoping this guy had changed and gotten over Y/N but seems like that’s not the case. I can’t let him get close to Y/N. Who knows what he’ll do if I let him go…” 

San returns to reality with Minho.

“Well, if that’s the case… might I recommend one more flower to add to the arrangement?” San says.

“Hmm, depends on what it is,” Minho responds.

San walks across the store to a cabinet. He opens the cabinet that is filled with fresh poppy flowers. He takes one of the yellow ones and walks back over to Minho, holding the flower between the two of them but holding it closer to Minho.

“These are a rare breed of California poppies. I think this would show how much you value and care for your girlfriend. Also, they smell nice and can lift the room's mood. Go on, take a sniff and see for yourself…” San explains. 

Minho gets a good whiff of the flowers and lets out a pleasant sigh.

“Wow… they smell delicious. You know they remind me of—” Minho starts, but cuts himself off as he passes out on the ground in front of San. 

San puts the plant down on the cashier counter and quickly walks to the door, adjusting the front sign from “Open” to “Closed.” He quickly walks back to Minho’s unconscious body and leans over to pick up his legs.

“Oh, one more thing I should’ve mentioned… poppy scents are so intoxicating, they can also be used to render one unconscious. So don’t sniff them for too long.” San says to Minho almost mockingly. “Oops! Guess I should’ve said something sooner.” 

San hums to himself as he drags Minho’s body across the shop floor into the forbidden room where he keeps the now larger plant. He unlocks the door and the plants sprouts up hearing San enter.

“Guess what Audrey? Looks like you’ll be eating a real meal tonight!” San says in his usual happy upbeat tone. He’s also happy that he won’t have to use his blood for the next few days.

“About time flower boy! I’m dying here!” Audrey says in response.

“Yeah, I know. It’s all I’ve been hearing from you for the past few days. ‘Oh I need some food’ ‘Some real human food’ ‘Get me some human food…don’t you love me boy?’ I’m sick of the whining so hopefully this shuts you up.”

“It would if you quit your yapping and gave me the damn food.”

San pulls Minho closer to Audrey and takes a step back.

“He’s all yours!” San says smiling. 

Audrey uses one of its vines to wrap Minho up. The plant brings Minho closer to its mouth getting a taste of the savory meal to come. Minho however, slowly starts to wake up and notices what is going on, and begins to let out a scream. But Audrey uses a smaller vine to cover his mouth. San walks over closer to Minho and leans in toward him.

“Shhh. Not too loud. The lovely baker next door will get suspicious.” San softly says with a sly smile.

Minho angrily mumbles something, but San couldn't care less what he has to say now.

“Well, let’s say I heard a thing or two about you, and now… this is your karma.”

Minho says another muffled line.

“Don’t worry I’ll be sure to deliver the flowers personally to Y/N. On the house!” San says in response. 

Minho struggles to get loose and tries to call out for help. However, San steps backward as the large plant throws Minho into its mouth taking a big chomp. Some blood splatters as Audrey bites down and San closes his eyes as some of the blood accidentally sprays on him and his clothes. 

“I always forget this happens sometimes…” San mutters to himself a little annoyed. 

San walks over to a corner and gets a mop and a towel to start cleaning up Audrey’s mess. As he’s cleaning he feels a buzzing in his pocket and takes out his phone to see what’s going on. He smiles when he sees it’s a message from you. 

“I guess we’re both having good days Audrey. Seems like I got that date with Y/N!”

~~~

If you enjoyed this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading. If you would like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know with a comment too! 🫶

[jules-writes-stories]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you to everyone who tagged me! I'm sorry this is late. I've been working on it for days. It's really long.

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

366,893

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

9!

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I have 1 WIP: A Love That Bleeds and a Koschei x Eris fic that's not posted yet (but close to drafted).

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

I love all my babes equally, but I am most proud of Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows, which was my first fan fic, and a true labor of love.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

Monster feels different from a lot that I've written. It's pre-cannon and examines Lucien and Eris's relationship, and is not ship-centered.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

My Azris modern AU The Night Court Lounge really took me by the throat. It was supposed to be a slutty little spite fic and then it just took off. The boys caught feelings and I caught feelings. But I have @pippsmcgee to thank for hyping that story up. She was the brain child behind a big plot point, the pet names, and just talked me through positions and timing and what ifs... truly a gift.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Hmmm... not sure? Maybe my Amarantha x OC fic? It's hard to write pre-canon stories, especially for a villain! A Love That Bleeds is pretty dark and touches upon themes of slavery, love and autonomy, and is different from much that I write. But I am so proud of it.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are too many talented artists to list. Here are a few: @nus4y who makes Azriel's skin literally glow and everything just screams passion. LOOK AT HIS BRILLIANCE on A03 (NSFW)

@queercontrarian never fails to surprise me. Their take on the Court fashions, hair styles, jewelry. So much diversity and representation. THIS is one of my all time favorites. THEEESAN.

@palomita-de-la-sangre whose style is so unique and gorgeous and raw. This is what I mean.

@seihdacalling is immensely talented! Her Eris and pups and JEL Eris? AND LOOK AT MITHRAS (my beloved OC).

@bloodyplunder whose work is so passionate and full of color and movement. LOOK at this! AND (NSFW) LOOK AT JEL CHAPTER 25 on AO3!

@fourteentrout is inspired and talented. And all around incredibly kind and supportive. Just brilliant. LOOK AT FIRE SPRITE ERIS

@laxibbeb creates characters' faces in a way that hold so much emotion. NESTA is a favorite, omg... and AZRIEL IN STIRRUPS.

@elleybug @chunkypossum @lucychanart (who made me a Tamsand believer. God, this one?) so many more...

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

There are SO many. First and foremost, @chunkypossum who welcomes new creators with so much warmth and support. Every single story. Every word is magical. @iftheshoef1tz is another legend who is so kind and warm and wickedly talented. Every single story is perfection. Will they adopt me as my Azris parents? Maybe. Congrats! It's a shoe-possum!

@the-darkestminds is truly someone I could write a book about. The emotions she brings out with her characters and words will leave you breathless. If you want to feel, read her stories. You will walk away so full of every emotion, but also with a newfound appreciation for each character. And @mistandmemories whose Eris is the funniest, most clever, most lovable in the biz. Her Azriel makes me laugh constantly. How you ask? Shenanigans. Windows, pants, awkward moments of self doubt and a precious inability to communicate. Go read it. The plots, the politics. The WIT. The decades of delicious edging. (It was several chapters but gods it felt like a lifetime).

These two have been writing their own multi-chapter fics beside me this year, and without their friendship and support, I probably wouldn't have finished. ILY!

@pippsmcgee will never be rid of me and my neurotic little paws. This one just looks at a story, a character, a scene, and says "you know what will make it even more (painful, sexy, exciting)?" And you better listen. But she also wrote a beautiful story about young Azriel that inspired me so much this year.

@shadowsandlint is full of talent-- Her prose is layered with meaning and flows so naturally. I can't put her stories down.

@zenkindoflove For her OC Alexius, who is my baby forever and ever. Creating an OC is gutsy and brave and takes so much talent. She's got it all. Also stunning world building and dialogues! And don't get me started on Elucien...

@talibunny30 For her depictions of young Nesta and her OC Boudica. She shows so much of Nesta's trauma in a thoughtful and honest way. I love it!

@neciebee whose writing is like poetry. Every time I read it I'm like, wait! Come back. Tell me more. I want... more? Gimme!

@witch-and-her-witcher whose fics are so magical. Her Nessian is my all time favorite. Nesta, Cassian, the Illyrian culture that she built for us. Just stunning.

@born-to-riot for VAMREN. But also sexy plots, hilarious shadows, and fluffy Azris moments we need.

@acourtofladydeath for writing pieces that challenge readers to sit with uncertainty-- gray characters and grief that lingers but also carry lessons and hope.

@secret-third-thing for such perfect storytelling-- every word matters and every image counts. The descriptions and details are exact, the settings are lush and imaginative. Also, Artaban.

I could keep going... If you are not on this list, but I've commented or left kudos or bookmarked your fic, you've left a mark. If not, I'm coming for you in 2025!

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@g00seg1rl who writes smut like a witch. A very sexy witch. @nus4y who is another sexy witch? Watch out for these two. @jolenes-library is so talented! Motorcycle Azris AU. Enough said. @buffy-vanserra whose prose is beautiful. Every word matters. @clockwork-ashes has so many lovely pieces I couldn't choose just one. @unanswered-stars for those damn letters. You know the ones. I'm still crying. @yanny-77 : Best Elain in the biz. And the Lip Ring.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

@brunetterebel010 @mistandmemories and I wrote A Solstice Carol. It started as a lot of joking about Rhys being Scrooge. And it became a true passion project! @talibunny30 helped with brainstorming ideas and beta reading, and @fieldofdaisiies and @pippsmcgee beta read.

Also my partner in crime in all Azris fics: @pippsmcgee who talks me through plotting the political animal, asks the important questions, and twists the knife of angst. She keeps my eyeball obsession in check.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

I'm most proud of Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. It really is silly, but finishing it, right at the end of 2024, and looking back at all the new friends I've made along the way, and how it has touched other people just makes this year feel special.

Thank you so much to @pippsmcgee for helping me land that plane. And for being my very first comment, ever. When I saw you and @talibunny30 and @neciebee were reading, I felt legit. And to @mistandmemories and @the-darkestminds who were on this journey with me. It was so important to walk beside you during it all!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Write was brings you joy. Comparison is the thief of that joy. You can only write your own story, and it's ok if it's not for everyone. Because a story that is everyone's is probably no one's, you know? It will reach the people it needs to.

Outlines are important (for my process). They saved my ass so many times. And beta readers. And friends. And reader-readers. They all saved me too.

14. What is your advice?

Surround yourself with people who cheer you on. Be sure to support other creators. The community aspect of fandom is important. We're all just out here putting our hearts onto the screen and hitting Post.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish A Love That Bleeds, Finish my Koschei x Eris fic, and start plotting out a longer Azris multi-chapter fic. It's a little seed right now, but one day soon...

[bloodinwine]

I don't know you, I love you Chapter One: The Sweet Spot [read on a03] pairing: astarion X effy (female OC)

it's love at first sight except it doesn't feel like the first time

It was four-o-clock on a Sunday at The Sweet Spot. Everything was 10% off and they had a buy-one-get-one free deal on lube. Management (also known as Mama) had been trying to sell overstock for weeks but still refused to budge on markdown.

Goblin dildos were so 1799.

It was 1800 and orcs were in.

The store was dead.

From behind the counter, Effy was humming to a song playing off her Chest of Chords while zeroing in on the store’s front window–the only one it had. It gave her a rectangular view of the sky, as colorful as the wall of vibrators below it.

Oranges, pinks and purples.

When all the colors went away, Effy bid the sun farewell and another day of hours wasted.

“Hey.”

A set of keys were slapped onto the counter by a hand covered in dried paint.

Effy looked up at Charity who was pulling a hood over her bright, blue hair.

“I’m heading out now, you take over,” she said.

Effy stood up fast, red heels clacking as she tried to catch up to her sister already heading for the door. “Chari, no! Please don’t go. I don’t want to be by myself tonight. Can’t you just–”

Chari sighed. “Stop it, Eff. You know I’m running out of time to prepare for the gallery .”

Effy hugged Chari’s arm. “But what am I to do for the next three hours? We haven’t had a single customer in the last three. Not one.”

Chari pried herself free, which wasn’t hard for her to do; she was much stronger. “Well … maybe Pete from BG-Mobile will come over to pay a visit.”

Effy cringed, her whole body rejecting the thought. “Okay, you can go now.”

“Don’t forget to drink water, love you, bye.”

“Don’t forget I’m your favorite sister, love you, bye.”

The bell above the door chimed as Chari left and the door closed behind her.

Effy sighed and walked to the window’s edge, checking to make sure Chari got in her car safely. Knowing she was watching, her little sister saluted her before pulling away.

Gods. She’d much rather tag along to help prepare for Chari’s art show. But someone had to watch the store. The downside of family business was that sometimes it was all business and no family.

Effy walked slowly from the end of the window to the other, from the welcome sign to a small corner shelf of erotica. She could follow Chari’s buggy this way—just until she’d hit a stop sign before veering right and disappearing completely from view. But just as Chari rolled to a stop, the point of Effy’s heel kicked into something.

She looked down. Her gaze landing on the new shipment of dildos Mama says her friend Stormie swears by. The box was half open, Chari must have forgotten to unpack it. Effy glanced back out the window, but her sister was already gone.

“Be safe, babyblue,” she said.

Well … back to work.

Effy opened the box and shielded her eyes from a sudden flash of brilliance. When her eyes adjusted, she looked back down at what had to be the shiniest, most golden dildos she’d ever seen. She pulled one out, stood up and smacked it into her other hand to test its weight.

Hmm. It was nice. Solid. Had good density. Effy became curious to learn its name.

“The Cock of Lathander,” she read. Above the title was a sticker, celebrating the turn of the century.

1800–the era of dreams. 

Meh. Effy had enough of those. In most of them she was being whisked away to freedom by some handsome man who was obsessed with her.

Speaking of, maybe after she put all these dildos away she could play Eternal Nights on her faePhone. As of last night (very late into the night), she needed to make a choice. Prince Kieran had given her an ultimatum to choose him, or his sworn enemy, the dark knight—Phoenix. Prince Kieran was so very handsome and very sweet, but Phoenix …

A distant rumble from outside yanked her from her thoughts and Effy looked back out the window. A black bike sped down the road, except this was no ordinary bike. A shadow clung to its sleek shape, flickering in its ghostly headlights. Effy watched in awe, as those very same lights veered into the parking lot.

She recognized it; at the club, men often talked about getting one.

The Wraith—fastest bike there ever was. It made her poor Ruby look like the ugliest car there ever was.

Please don’t park next to me. Pleaseee.

The man–judging from his form–did not. Thank the gods.

He parked under the only lamplight, closer to BG Mobile. Tendrils of shadow dissipated when he turned the engine off. By now, Effy’s face was practically smooshed to the glass as he swung his leg off the bike in a motion so sensual, it made her jealous of the seat he’d been riding.

He grabbed underneath his full helmet and removed it, revealing white curls and pointed ears. With the helmet tucked under his arm, he began to walk. And Effy quickly realized it was in her direction.

“Fuck.”

She took a few steps back from the wall and realized she was still holding the Cock of Lathander in her hands.

“Fuck!” The dildo was chucked back into the box, and the box was picked up just as quickly. But Effy miscalculated the weight and dropped it and watched a sea of the Sun god’s dick hit the floor and flop around her feet—just as the bell to the front door chimed.

Mortified, she slowly looked up.

The man was looking down at the mess she made with a raised brow and half a smile before he lifted his face to her.

His eyes were red. Beautiful.

And for some reason, so heart-wrenchingly familiar.

“Have we met before?” she thought to ask.

But he beat her to it.

[merakiui]

Not a request for full stories (unless you want to later on) Just typical mer eggs's rambles

But we will need to think about something about jade in captivity now. Maybe a small ramble?

What if both the twins were caught together maybe?

Ooooooo What if Floyd and/or Jade were the princess's present instead of Azul!!!

What if the princess wasn't the first born and wasn't married off?

Sincerely,

Mer Eggs Anon (idk why I sign off so weirdly every time lol-)

Jade in captivity!!!! Oh, he's a menace, even more so than Floyd usually is. Jade will intentionally act like he isn't super intelligent and witty when he's interacting with the researchers just so they won't think anything more of his capabilities. He keeps a lot of things about himself hidden, like the fact that he can mostly understand human speech and body language after observing it for so long. He is cooperative when it comes to the usual check-ups, but he draws the line at things like the researchers trying to poke and prod at intimate, sensitive areas like his gills or slit or fins. Jade smiles so cordially, speaking in calm clicks (though none of the researchers ever know that he's cursing them or saying terrible things about them in mermish lol).

His vocabulary isn't the biggest when it comes to human words, but he knows most of the basics. It's how he's able to communicate a little with you, but he waits a very long time before he actually speaks to you, gauging your threat level and whether or not he both trusts you enough to be entertaining and also if he likes you. You're so used to hearing his clicks and whistles and chitters, so when you hear a silky-smooth "Good morning," from him you nearly jump out of your skin. orz Jade loves to surprise...

:o omg if Floyd and Jade were gifted to Reader instead of Azul... there are so many possibilities. Unlike Azul who has mostly civil relations with the palace staff (up until the day he's transferred back to the sea, that is), Floyd and Jade are fearsome and unsettling. They intentionally scare the staff, only ever softening when you're around. They're small and mostly harmless as elvers (only because it's an unfamiliar environment and they have to assess every danger while conserving energy in case they do need to drop the harmless act and fight), so it's a great shock when they both quickly outgrow their tank. They grow to be such big, strong eels. T_T it terrifies the staff whenever they pass the pool and spy the twins peering out from the depths, but you've never once been scared. Sure, the twins can be...odd with their morbid humor and way of doing things, but they're your friends and they've never given you a reason to fear them.

In the event that you aren't betrothed, things are pleasant. You live within the palace, spending plenty of time with the both of them. When they reach sexual maturity and breeding season rolls around, things get difficult. You don't know nearly as much about eel mers as you should, so when they're coaxing you into the pool you feel a little worried. You don't trust their sticky smiles and drawling voices, and the way their bodies flush so brightly, the patterns nearly hypnotic with how vivid they are, something stirs within you. You feel bad about running off when they may need your help, but it's the first time you've felt unsafe around them.

The twins resolve to try a gentler, less direct approach. One way or another, you'll eventually find yourself sandwiched between them, their tails curling between your legs in the water. Even though you aren't betrothed, it's still a scandal if the princess falls pregnant before she's even found someone to marry. The circumstances are a little unique, though. Even the physician can't quite wrap their head around how it's possible, but the proof lies in your womb. Jade and Floyd filled you with two entire clutches and it leaves you so unwieldy and gravid. But you're just too precious. Now that they've claimed you as theirs, you won't ever have to entertain the idea of marriage to another human. :)

It may get boring living out cyclical days in the palace pool, but at least they have you. And one day they'll find a way to escape back to the sea. Once they do, they'll take you and the fry with them to pursue a happily ever after in the ocean. <3

[fantasticalleigh]

God. This is why I am so careful about getting into new media. Because when it’s THIS fucking good and beautiful it makes everything hurt. And it’s a good hurt for sure! But it’s so hard to say goodbye to it. And to know no matter what I do I’ll never make something on that level. loving something so exquisite can be so painful and fun. Arcane fucking changed me.

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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[euthymiya]

part two

Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.

He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.

You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.

He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.

“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”

“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”

Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.

“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”

Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).

“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”

You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow.

“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.

Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.

Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:

▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!

Your eye twitches.

Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:

▣ not a chance!

You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.

Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.

And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.

You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:

────────────────────────

Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork

Greetings office neighbor,

Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?

Thanks a million,

Gojo Satoru :)

────────────────────────

And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.

You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.

Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:

────────────────────────

Thank you for reaching out,

Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.

Hope that helps!

Your office neighbor :)

────────────────────────

Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.

“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.

“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”

“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.

Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.

“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”

“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”

“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”

You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.

“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.

“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”

“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.

You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”

“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.

“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.

Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.

“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.

“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”

[fuckyeahisawthat]

So there is this thing that the two Villeneuve Dune movies do together that I cannot stop thinking about, where they will present something (often, a weapon) in a context the first time around where it looks a certain way (often, very sexy and cool). And then they will present it again in a way that doesn't exactly negate your reading of the original context but makes you recoil in horror from the new context.

Paul and Jessica using the Voice to escape from their Harkonnen captors? Very sexy and cool. Look at them working together, mother and son, a couple of space witch badasses.

Jessica using the Voice on Chani to force her to participate in reviving Paul after he drinks the Water of Life? Horrifying. Saying you will be part of this myth that has been created to serve political ends that have nothing to do with your liberation, and if you don't do it voluntarily to save the person you love then I will make you do it.

Chani and Paul working together to take down the ornithopter gunship using those little shoulder-fired rockets? Very sexy and cool, we love guerrilla warfare against an occupying army. (I'm not being facetious here, this sequence is extremely satisfying to watch.)

The much later image of Paul silhouetted against the blast from the missiles from his family's private nuclear arsenal blowing up the shield wall? Nightmarish.

The way the climactic battle to retake the palace at Arrakeen extends into the night so that it begins to look very very much like the initial Harkonnen attack on the same place? I'm sure this is intentional; the whole third act is about taking a giant sledgehammer to the idea that the Atreides are the better or more civilized imperialists.

Perhaps my favorite example of this is the Atreides signet ring. When Paul first puts it on in the first movie, it's a symbol of him accepting that Leto is dead. It's a melancholy moment, but it's also a sign of Paul accepting the responsibility of his birthright as the new Duke.

Early in the second movie, when he is trying to be equal to the Fremen, he takes the ring off. And you just know that when he decides to put it back on again, that will be the sign that everything's about to go to shit. And when it happens it's a very similar moment--it is Paul accepting his birthright, just a different kind. But the accompanying feeling is oh no.

[torpublishinggroup]

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

[webism]

KINKTOBER DAY THREE: bondage with nanami.

kinktober masterlist

Nanami, your other half, is meticulous and an overbearing perfectionist on the best of days. You love it about him, love the way that when it comes to you, everything has to be perfect to no fault. You love his dedication to the simplest of things, his attention to detail, you love his patience.

You don't love it when he's using said perfectionism to prolong your time being tied up. You see it in his pretty eyes, that knowing look—he's not taking his time for the sake of perfection, he's taking the time to perv on those frustrated whines that you let out the longer he takes.

Your wrists are bound at your front, a soft shibari rope wrapped around your skin. He had picked it out himself, opted for a more expensive option as it was less likely to irritate your skin—after all, you're being bound to further enjoy yourself, not to decorate your skin with marks he'd much rather leave with his mouth.

Still, he works on the rope around your waist with no sign of eagerness or a rush towards completion. Instead, he continues to watch your body in what looks like a clinical examination, hands working gracefully as he knots the rope against your skin and builds a harness, no doubt good to hold onto so you can't start to shift away once thinks become overbearing. You sit on your shared bed, eyes heavy and stuck on his face as he works—calculated ministries become just a little quicker as you pout.

"Ken," you whine, subconsciously trying to pry your wrists apart to grab at your lover. Your fingers find nothing but air, your arms bound, rendering you useless.

"I'm almost done," he says calmly, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He finishes before any other complaints can leave your lips, though you suspect he could have been finished fifteen minutes ago if the sight of rope against your bare skin didn't send blood right down to his cock.

He stands back from where he's working with satisfaction, a pleased look in his eyes that makes you want to squirm, wanting to crawl into his lap and beg forgiveness for whatever you might have done wrong in your past life if it means he'll just fuck you already. But you keep your head up, eyes set on his.

Your legs are bound thigh-to-calf, your throbbing cunt forced onto display by your bindings—if Kento were a worse man he'd leave you like this, bound with a vibrator against your pretty clit for hours on end as he files some paperwork or catches up on the novel he's been reading.

And although the thought is enticing, turning your moans and drawling orgasms into ambient music for the house you share, he's a selfish man at heart and could never deprive himself of you—not when you're like this.

"I think you're beautiful, my love," he leans over you, brushing a cool knuckle over your warmed cheek. A flush spreads across your cheeks, warmth blooming in your belly. His touch doesn't last long, his hand trailing off your shoulder and dipping down to tug at the rope that twists around your torso.

"You're perfect, you know that?" He tries again, and pulls so hard on your rig that your back meets the mattress and, all of a sudden, your Kento is hovering over you, cock hard against his slacks. "And you know that I love you."

"I know," you nod.

His hands fumble for his belt, and he's hooking his cock out of his pants in the same breath—too eager to fully undress. "I appreciate your trust in me," he tugs at a rope around your thigh to get you just that little bit closer to him; you can feel the heavy weight of his length against your stomach—and he can see just how deep inside of you he will be soon enough, "Though I fear seeing you tied up like this… it makes it hard to be gentle with you, love."

You lean up to kiss his jaw, his lips, anything you and reach while bound so intently. "I don't need you to be gentle with me. I am at your disposal."

Something in your lilt breaks the band of resistance that holds your lover still—he groans as he presses forward, pushing into you without any preamble. You're beyond wet, he hardly feels bad for not prepping you on his tongue beforehand. He has plans of ruining you with his mouth once he's fucked you full of him. "How can I possibly deny you?"

As he bottoms out inside of you, Kento grabs the rope that binds your wrist and lifts them above your head, pressing them into the sheets and rendering you completely motionless. Try as you might, you can't move an inch—you're entirely at his lust-glossed mercy. "That's better, hm? Much easier now, yes?" He pushes deeper into you, grunting out as he fills you in. "You don't have to think, don't have to move, you don't have to anything but take me."

The words are familiar to you—you've heard them hundreds of times before. In the throes of ecstasy, they sound like a lullaby to you—though this time there's some truth to his words. A genuine lack of need to move, to speak, to try and keep your hips at pace with his. As Nanami pulls back, drags his aching cock out of you before rutting right back into your tight core, you're able to completely relinquish control.

And god is it narcotic. The ruthless pace that he sets, muscles that cord his arms keep you in place as he bullies his cock into you. His mean thrusts are occasionally broken up with an open-mouthed kiss to your waiting lips, though the world is spinning too fast for you to register much other than raw, undiluted pleasure. You barely have the voice to announce your orgasm, let alone ask for permission to cum, so when your orgasm wracks through you like tropical waves against a cliffside, your lover can't help but bite at your exposed neck in feigned disappointment.

"Oh, love," he coos, but doesn't slow the roll of his hips even slightly. "You know I don't like it when you don't use your words."

You can't, not with the way he's fucking a second orgasm into you before you've even recovered from your first. Not when you're bound so tight that you know you have no way out of his ministries, not that you want one. You haven't felt so blissed-out in a long time, and there is no place safer to lose your mind than in Kento's arms. Though there's a dangerous lilt to his voice when he leans own, thrusts sharp into your overstimulated pussy, and whispers against your ear. "You're going to wait, and you're going to cum alongside me, love."

It's all too much, your vision is near-white with hot pleasure and you worry that you'll never think a straight thought again if he keeps rendering you dumb like this. You try desperately to climb up the bed, away from his overwhelming size, but he's got an iron-wraught grip on your bindings. "Ah," he chides. "Don't run, take me- I know you can."

The moans that rip from your throat are made for porn, especially in conjuncture with his groans and bitten praises. It's not long before his ruthless pace starts to falter, and the slap of skin against bruising skin starts to stutter as your lover reaches climax.

"With me," he chokes, the hand that had held your wrists up finally falling down to rub relentless circles over your sensitive clit. You're overwhelmed, orgasm cresting almost painfully as your mind blanks and you come harder than you think you ever have before. Nanami releases inside of you, his free hand holding you as close as humanly possible through your bindings.

And once he's cum, stolen a few breaths to steady himself enough to lift himself up and look down at you, Kento Nanami fears he might be a bad man. Because with the way you look, tear stained cheeks and complete lack of freedom, he can't help the words that slip from his lips.

"You can handle another, can't you, love?"

tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @aliisinwonderland @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

@plinkuro @sooouth @megumiiiswife @nyxiswrites1200 @yveiscringe

@sharks31 @lenahathunger @aydene @dreamyokai @n0tviv

@chiiinglebells @timetoletmyimaginationfly @nayely45 @waffless-simp-blog

@zoozvie @gothicchildofthenight @repnights @flwerie @soundofraindropss

@ushijimas1simp @aliidarling @aeswin @peachygelic @silvermet

@rinadisapproves @theshxaverse @cipher00 @milkkteary @snackeyalleyjuice

@cvipped @toadtoru @keiette @satosugu4-ever

@sugurubabe @wickedpoison6 @simp-plague @tojis-ball-sack @ventila98

@xxbookdrunkdemigodxx @oikawasthirdleg @yogichi @theycallmesia

@kdrama-anna @vurelliex @anonnieghost @tadabzzzbee

@luvofbows @crywolfix @hhonaoin @gigiiiiislife @aviesnapkindoodles

@ninikrumbs @bijuu-naginata @baekhyunsbestie @grimmshold @dalnimmie

@domainexpansionmypants @5tarx @1depressedsimp @beachaddict48 @jadeis0nline

@sukunasbbygrl @luna-v-roiya @sukunaspillow @starsval @vamqyx

@laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mermaid-jewels @sugusmonkeyy @sammywo @noyaskneepad

@astrideverstar @lordchula-thagrandrula @chuuminn @angel1of-death @flooftoof

@rumi-rants @dysphoricsanity @coolcephalopod @satoruslxt @xoxo1mira

@whosmarjj @kikosaidbye @iceddragonfruit @amisuh @lotties-ashwagandha

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Route To Sin - Eddie Munson

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: eddie decides to go on a roadtrip with you to visit your sister in vegas, when you stop at a themed motel on the way, things quickly take a filthy turn.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: my first eddie munson fic!! i’ve loved this man for two years, i just finally decided to put it on paper lol, please let me know what y’all think!!

TW: dom!eddie, slight brat tamer!eddie, reader has a sister, drug use (weed), food mention, marriage talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, bathtub sex, oral fixation, unprotected sex (don’t do this), creampie, cowgirl, mirror sex, degradation (brat, whore), porn mention, spanking mention, pet names (doll, babydoll, sweet girl, sweetheart, angel), hair pulling, fem + afab reader, reader gets slightly insecure at the end

Rating: R, 18+

——

A waft of earthy smoke billowed from the open driver’s side window, the familiar smell pulling Eddie’s attention back to the van. You knelt on the bench seat, body stretched across the expanse of the front cab to rest your folded arms against the edge of the window frame, silently watching your boyfriend pump gas. The last of the joint you’d been passing back and forth dangled limply between your pointer and middle finger, careful to avoid dropping the simmering butt and accidentally lighting the whole place up.

“If you keep blowin’ that roach shit my way I’m gonna leave you here.” That signature sarcasm rang heavy in his tone, canines peeking out from under his top lip with the smile he flashed at you.

He shut the fuel door, grabbing the roach out of your hand before snubbing it out against the heel of his boot and tossing it into the ashtray on top of the nearest trash can.

“I gotta go in to pay, do you want anything?” He fumbled with his wallet, pulling the wad of crumpled bills out of the worn leather.

“Get me a slice?” You asked, tilting your head toward the neon in the window that read ‘Pizza: Hot To Go’ in blinking red letters. He nodded, hitting a light jog into the convenience store, wallet chain slapping against his thigh with every step.

When you suggested a roadtrip to visit your sister in Nevada, you hadn’t fully taken into account how long you’d need to be in the van. Hawkins to Vegas wasn’t exactly a short trip, two thousand miles to be exact, and as much as you loved spending time with Eddie, the old, worn out seat of his van was starting to make your tailbone ache. Being 16 hours into a 28 hour drive had you feeling more stressed out than usual, you definitely needed to sleep in a real bed tonight if you hoped to get any relief before your big weekend in Sin City.

Eddie came bounding across the cracked pavement, pizza box in hand and you perked up, his goofy smile illuminated by the final sliver of dusk and the dingy glow of the old gas station sign above.

“I got a whole pie, Rick wasn’t fuckin around when he said that new stuff would make you feel like you’re starving.” He yanked open the door, the metal creaking loudly on its rusty hinge. You took the box from him, setting it on the bench between you as he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, starting up the van to continue your journey.

“Eddie, can we stop at a motel tonight?” You asked, opening the box to lift a piece of pizza out, folding it down the center and bringing it to his face.

“M’not sure if there’s anything on the way, but we can stop if we see something, doll.” He turned his head, keeping his eyes on the road through his peripheral as he took a bite from the slice in your hand.

‘Welcome Home (Sanitarium)’ by Metallica blared through the speakers either side of the van’s tape deck, vibrations from the heavy bass flowing through the vehicle and melding with the warm haze your high pulled over your mind, your body relaxing into the stained upholstery of the seat. You kicked your bare legs up onto the dashboard, white lacquered toenails pulling Eddie’s eyes off the road briefly. His gaze shifted down to your ankle, then your calf, then landing on your plush thigh, your soft skin peeking out from under your short pajama shorts.

“Eddie, there!” You pointed toward the sign glowing overhead through the dirty windshield, reading ‘Heart’s Desire Motel’ in faded letters atop a large metal heart. His attention was quickly pulled away from your soft skin, pulling the van off the highway and into the small parking lot. The place was quaint, baby pink paint peeling from the siding, with an old ‘vacancy’ sign blinking in the window of the front office. You pulled your sandals on and jumped out of the van, slipping Eddie’s jacket over your shoulders to shield your bare arms from the chill in the night air. Eddie followed quickly behind, catching up to you with ease as you reached the front door.

A small bell rang when you pulled open the office door, the only source of light in the small room being a desk lamp situated behind the front counter. You waited for a moment, hearing a ‘be right with you!’ called from an adjoining space.

“How can I help ya darlin?” A sweet older woman emerged from a back storage space, setting some paperwork down and taking her place behind the counter.

“Can we get a room for the night?” You asked cheerily, excited to finally lay down on something that wasn’t a blanket in the back of Eddie’s van. She smiled and nodded, flipping through the room log book, and you took the opportunity to glance at your surroundings. The walls were the same light pink as the exterior, with heart and cupid motifs scattered across them to really hone in on the theming. The kitchy aesthetic was endearing, a reminder of the bygone honeymoon resorts of the 60’s.

“All our double twin rooms are booked for the night so we only have single queen rooms available, is that alright?” She looked between you and Eddie, knowing her question may as well have been rhetorical.

“That’s actually preferred, it’s our wedding night.” Eddie lied to the woman, a shiteating grin stretched across his face when you turned back to him and shoved his shoulder.

“Well in that case I’ll put you up in our honeymoon suite! It’s not much different from our standard rooms, but there’s a heart shaped tub for you two lovebirds to enjoy.” Her face lit up with the sweetest smile and your heart melted, guilt sitting low in your chest knowing it was a lie. You didn’t have the heart to tell her or question why she’d believed it given the way the two of you were dressed, but you shrugged it off, just happy to be able to finally relax.

You took the key from her as Eddie handed her the cash to pay for the room, twirling it between your fingers, a red keychain etched with the same logo as the overhead sign on one side and the room number above a small heart on the other. Eddie shoved his wallet back into his pocket, his arm wrapping around your waist to usher you out of the main office, calling out a ‘thank you’ as you left.

“What the fuck was that?” You grabbed your bag from the back of the van, shooting him a death glare only to be met with that ridiculous smirk he so loved to taunt you with.

“What, you don’t wanna be my bride?” He faux pouted, dark waves falling in his face as you reached for his bag. You over-exaggeratedly rolled your eyes, starting to walk toward the room.

“Guess it’s the atmosphere of this place getting to me, babydoll.” He slammed the door of the van, jogging to catch up with you as you started putting the key in the door lock. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how that little nickname made your heart want to burst out of your chest, Eddie always knew exactly how to push your buttons in the best way and this was no exception.

The sight that greeted you beyond the door was like something out of a 70’s porno, wood paneled walls framing crimson velour window trimmings, a matching velvet comforter sprawled across the queen bed. Two poorly painted angels sat perched atop the heart shaped headboard, like prying eyes seeing every depraved act carried out on the altar below. Sure enough, at the far end of the suite was a heart shaped jacuzzi tub, tiled steps leading up and mirrors lining the walls of the corner it was tucked into.

You dropped your bag on top of the mahogany dresser across from the bed, and as you turned on your heel to shut the door behind Eddie, you couldn’t help but burst into a small fit of laughter at the cross hanging above the door frame. The idea that anything happening in this sex den was god-honoring was definitely scoff-worthy.

“What d'ya say we put that thing to use? My back is killing me and I bet those jets would feel killer.” Eddie’s fingertips dug firm indents into the flesh of your hip, a not-so-subtle indication of what his intentions were for the night.

“Whatever you want, daddy.” You winked, taking a step forward until his large hand gripped your forearm.

“What did you just call me?” He questioned, brow quirked in curiosity.

“It’s our wedding night, remember? Don’t you wanna start a family?” Your tone was playful but truthfully something about this place was stirring a feeling so raw inside of you that you weren’t kidding in the slightest.

“If you keep that up you won’t be able to walk in the morning.” Eddie released his grip, slapping your ass as you walked away to turn on the faucet for the tub.

“Won’t need to anyway, I’ll be sitting in your shitty van for 12 more hours.” You knew exactly how to push his buttons, and insulting any of his women (his guitar, his van, and you) was the quickest way to do so.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.” He half-snapped at you, digging through his duffle bag in an ill-fated attempt to stop himself from watching the way you wiggled your ass while you bent over the side of the tub, watching the waterline rise.

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” You found yourself deliberately arching your back toward to accentuate the curve of your ass, hoping with every fiber of your being he’d stop what he was doing and manhandle you a little.

“Only if you don’t stop with the bratty attitude.” He glanced over at you and immediately dropped the shirt he was pretending to fold back into his bag, finally giving up on his resistance and approaching you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare thighs. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your pj shorts and underwear, roughly yanking them down to expose your ass.

“Gotta get you outta these if we’re gonna take that bath.” His tone had returned to that lighthearted sarcasm that you loved to hate, and you almost let yourself sink back against him. Instead, you stood upright again, taking the hem of his tattered Iron Maiden shirt in your grip and lifting it up his torso until he pulled it the rest of the way over his head.

Just as he reached to do the same to your tank top, you turned away and reached for the tap again, putting a stop to the stream of running water. He gripped your waist, pulling you back against him before pulling your tank over your head, leaving you fully naked.

“Get in.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine that had goosebumps rising over your skin. Maybe it was your residual high, or the lovesick atmosphere of your surroundings, but everything felt heightened, your skin more sensitive, his presence behind you more intimidating, his voice more intoxicating.

You ascended the short step and sunk into the bath, the water level rising to not quite cover your chest as you laid back into the left arch of the heart. Eddie watched your every move, eyes glued to your hips to drink in the way your form shifted with every step. He made quick work of removing his jeans, letting the stiff denim pool at his feet as he watched you settle in, your gaze drifting to the waistband of his plaid boxers. He pulled them down at an almost agonizing slow pace, exposing inch after inch of his semi-hard shaft to your waiting eyes until his cock sprung free, the sheer weight of him causing his length to slap against his upper thighs.

You absentmindedly pressed your thighs together, trying to dull the ache between them to no avail. You never truly got used to seeing him fully naked, blushing like a naive virgin every time you had the privilege of seeing him like this. The muscles of his thigh flexed as he took the step up to level with the lip of the tub, towering over you before sinking into the water beside you. He was an Adonis, all toned muscle under a tender layer of plush tissue that made for the perfect sleeping partner, strong and comforting all the same.

“Come here, doll.” He patted his thigh, the water swaying with the movement alongside the low hum of his voice. You rose to your knees, floating to the other side of the tub and straddling his lap, your core sitting dangerously close to his cock. His hands found your hips, calloused fingertips digging into your soft skin with a squeeze before gliding up your sides, his thumbs ghosting over the sides of your breasts almost teasingly while he admired the way water droplets dripped down over your nipples.

“Always so gorgeous.” He groaned, strong hands finally encompassing your breasts, kneading tender flesh as his rough palms gave your stiff peaks the friction they desperately craved.

His touch lit a fire within you, and as much as the way that he looked at you with such admiration made your heart melt, your need was becoming more and more unbearable by the second. You shifted forward, rubbing your folds over the length of his shaft with a hunger, desperate for stimulation.

Before you knew it he had dropped his grip from your chest, threading a hand into your hair to yank your head softly back, drawing a gasp from your throat.

“Did I tell you you could move?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrow. He couldn’t help his sarcastic nature, it just came so naturally to him, and knowing that he had such an immense effect on you gave him the ego boost of the century. You shook your head as much as you could given the grip he held on your tresses, and choked out a soft ‘no’ in response before clearing your throat.

“I-I think I deserve some relief after being in the van all day.” You tried to put up a fight, not quite done riling him up, but your tone was quickly losing all conviction and Eddie could see you slipping further into desperation.

“You don’t deserve anything, you’ve been a pampered little passenger princess for 16 hours while I’ve done all of the work to get us here.” He yanked your hair back even further, craning your neck to look up at the baby pink popcorn ceiling. The sting in your scalp brought tears to your eyes, the liquid breaching your waterline leaving dark mascara trails down your cheeks in its wake.

“You’re being awfully bratty, doll, where’d my sweet girl go?” He cooed, free hand cupping your cheek as he loosened his grip ever so slightly to allow you to look at him.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m just so sore.” You sniffled, tears still falling from the shame the disappointment in his tone made you feel.

“Don’t cry baby, just need you to listen, okay?” He dropped his grip on your hair, both hands cupping your face, looking lovingly into your glazed eyes. You could feel his cock growing beneath you, the sight of dark makeup running down your tear stained face serving as the perfect aphrodisiac. He adored seeing you all messy like this, his perfect angel looking like a filthy whore, only for his eyes to see.

“Think we can both get some relief tonight if you’re good, can you be good for me?” You frantically nodded your head. “Yes, I promise!” Your enthusiasm made him laugh low in the back of his throat, that goofy smile returning to his face.

“Need you to use your words and tell me what you want, can you do that?” His tone held sickly sweet condescension and you could feel yourself slipping into that mind numbing headspace, wishing he could just slip into your mind for a moment and see all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you.

“Need you inside, please.” Your words came out barely above a whisper and he knew he wouldn’t get too much more out of you before you devolved into a mewling mess, too lost in your own mind to articulate your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but play with you a little longer.

“Inside where, sweetheart? Here?” He mused, bringing his free hand to your mouth, pointer and middle fingers prodding at your parted lips. You quickly took them in, sucking softly on his digits as you shook your head no, oral fixation too strong to pass up the opportunity to have any part of him in your mouth.

“If that’s not what you want then you need to tell me, don’t be greedy.” He pulled his fingers from your lips with a pop, his tone falling an octave. Your eyes widened, nodding in acknowledgment, willing to do anything to please him at this point.

“I-I need you down here, please.” You took his wrist in your shaky hand, guiding him down to dip into the warm water, lifting your hips slightly so his hand could fit in the tight space between your bodies, pressing his fingertips to the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. You stopped, releasing his wrist, not wanting to break any unknown rule and let him take the reins from there. He brought the heel of his palm up to rut firmly against your clit, drawing quiet whimpers as you did your best to stay still.

“What do you want here, doll? My fingers, or something else?” He teased, dipping two of his fingers inside only up to the first knuckle, the slight stimulation almost torturous as he scissored his fingers inside, stretching open the first inch of your cunt.

“God, something else, please.” You sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What then?” He stopped his movements, withdrawing his hand and you groaned from the lack of friction.

“Your cock, Eddie, please just let me ride you.” You swore you were trying to be good, but you were starting to feel like you’d lose your mind if you didn’t get the stimulation you were in desperate need of and you didn’t care how impatient you sounded.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He laughed, his hands gripping your hips to guide you up just enough for his cock to stand upright in the water, the tip bumping against your weeping cunt. “Whenever you’re ready, babydoll. You want it so bad, you’re gonna do the work.”

You took his hint, bringing your hand beneath you to grip his member, finally sinking slowly down onto him until you could feel him in your stomach, the all too anticipated stretch making you cry out in relief after his teasing. He groaned, running a hand through his curls as he settled back against the edge of the tub, watching you start to slowly grind your hips, just feeling how full he made you feel.

After a few minutes you lifted your hips once more, starting a steady pace bouncing on his lap, the head of his cock rubbing against the tender patch of nerves deep inside your cunt, velvety walls engulfing him with every movement. The water surrounding you started to roll like waves, splashing against the sides of the tub, threatening to spill out onto the tile surrounding it. You took notice, slowly your movements to lessen the potential mess, and Eddie sighed.

“We’ll clean it up later baby, just let go.” He reassured you, secretly just as desperate as you were to get off. He didn’t care about a little clean up, let alone wiping some water off the floor.

You were hesitant but returned to your previous pace, angling your hips back to really allow his cock to hit the sensitive place inside you, euphoria slowly building in your core. Your gaze slowly shifted from his face and when you caught the sight of yourself in the mirrors surrounding the tub you gasped, the lewd image of your makeup stained face and your tits bouncing with every movement of your hips was something almost pornographic, really living up to the atmosphere of the room.

Eddie caught where your eyes had shifted to and groaned, throwing his head back to properly watch you get off to your own reflection.

“Look at yourself, bouncing on my cock like a desperate whore, making such a mess.” His hand came down to press against your lower stomach, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit until you were a moaning mess, your thighs burning with the almost brutal pace you were now maintaining.

“Want you to make me a daddy.” He moaned, his breaths becoming more labored. His statement broke you from your trance, your gaze falling back to his as you searched his eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but you found none, he wasn’t kidding.

“Can I knock you up, babydoll?” He reiterated the sentiment, increasing the pressure on your clit and feeling you pulse around him, your orgasm dangerously close.

“I need an answer before you or I can cum sweetheart.” He was panting, straining to prevent himself from finishing, and you did everything you could to pull yourself together enough to answer.

“Yes, Eddie, please!” You maimed, tears threatening your waterline from how close you were to the edge.

“Say it.” He groaned, locking eyes with you one last time.

“Please cum inside me daddy, please!” You cried out, tipping over the edge with one last slam of your hips, pleasure rolling over you in tandem with the waves of the water around you, your walls contracting over and over around him until his warmth spread throughout your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against you until the aftershocks stopped wracking your body, relaxing on his lap.

“You okay angel?” His voice was strained but sweet as ever, always concerned about your wellbeing above anything else.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, smiling silently against his neck.

Once you were fully recovered, you raised off of him, both of you wincing at the loss momentarily before sinking under the now lukewarm water for one final rinse. You began to step out, Eddie right behind you to grab your waist when your foot almost slipped out from under you because of the slick tile.

“Careful babydoll, don’t want you to slip.” He held you firm as you stepped down, making sure you were safe on the ground level before following you out, handing you one of the fresh towels from the pile next to the tub. He wiped up the excess water off the ground as you dried yourself off, and you didn’t know if it was the cold air or the rational part of your brain turning back on, but something started to eat at you as you watched your boyfriend dry himself off.

“Is it okay that I called you that?” The worry in your voice almost made Eddie’s heart break into a million pieces, and he quickly wrapped the towel around his hips before taking you into his arms.

“I loved it, babydoll, I promise I would tell you if I didn’t.” He smoothed your hair away from your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“How about we put on our pajamas and turn on a movie.” He smiled down at you, waiting for your approving nod before going to your bags on the dresser and pulling out your second pair of pj’s. He helped you into them before pulling on his own old band shirt and fresh boxers and crawling into the gaudy bed with you, cuddling up to watch whatever cheesy horror flick was airing on late night tv.

——

tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @your-nightmaredoll

also tagging: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @eddiesxangel @bimbotrashcan bc i thought you might be interested, please message me if you’d like me to remove you

please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future eddie fics!!

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned. 

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot. 

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him. 

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season. 

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over. 

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were. 

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed. 

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered. 

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile. 

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised. 

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.  

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.   

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.   

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.  

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–” 

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly. 

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?” 

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back. 

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open. 

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds. 

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners.. 

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.  

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back. 

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.  

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.  

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison. 

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said. 

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna. 

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled. 

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp. 

Well fuck me, you thought. 

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag. 

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned. 

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy. 

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him. 

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation. 

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him. 

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor. 

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

… 

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did. 

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go. 

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside. 

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses. 

“C’mon!” you screamed. 

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled. 

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately. 

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won. 

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way. 

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!” 

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up. 

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did. 

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again. 

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next? 

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake. 

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath. 

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress. 

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.   

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed. 

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything. 

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin. 

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble. 

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry. 

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart. 

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.  

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort. 

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could. 

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest. 

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night. 

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not. 

“Was I screaming?” 

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself. 

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth. 

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised. 

“What?” you asked. 

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.” 

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.  

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly. 

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.” 

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise. 

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.” 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded. 

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either. 

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you. 

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you. 

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it? 

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.” 

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed. 

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later. 

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it. 

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased. 

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked. 

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.