#it is concave now can I get a break

[mushramoo]

THIS MONTH HAS BEEN AWFUL FOR ME TO SAY THE LEAST IM GOING TO DO A LOT OF ART TO MAKE UP FOR IT (I also will not be in artfight because I’m trying to survive atm 😭 but look out for me next year!) LOVE U ALL

[delfiore]

—DO YOU THINK I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU?

pairing: leah williamson x reader

synopsis: in the end, what is meant to be will always be. or; leah struggles after the break up.

word count: 4.5k

a/n: this is a continuation of LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO. i just have to make things angsty i’m sry, if i don’t i start gnawing at the bars of my enclosure but worry not, this will turn fluffy in the end :)

EIGHT. Paris.

It took about 45 mins for Leah to decide that she longer wanted to be in this damned opera house.

The red carpet was exhausting enough, but she powered through it, familiar faces like Amelia DiMoldenberg’s making it barely enough to get through.

The dinner had gone into an intermission, and she had a moment to relax from the cameras, being sat at a table not far from the stage. Ever since she first attended the GQ Men of the Year Dinner a few years ago, it had created a lot of buzz around her every year, fans speculating whether she would come again, donning outfits so foreign on her body. Back then, she still had a support system that she looked forward to coming home to. Now, maybe the only positive to this night was that, whatever happened, she would eventually get to go home and sleep by the end of it.

She had to tilt her head all the way up to get a full glimpse of the ceiling. The Royal Opera House wasn’t the oldest building erected in London by far, but it was one of most interesting to look at, if she wasn’t so in love with her club and the look of the Emirates that was. It was grandiose, regal and typical of Baroque architecture, the concave ceiling arching over her, stretching all the way back to the five balconies—generously lit and horse-shoe-shaped seating areas—stacked on top of each other. It looked a little bit like the Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris that she got to see when she attended the Ballon d’Or for the first time a couple of years ago. A lot of things can change in two years, and Leah wasn’t sure whether it was for the better or not.

Her agent caught her in the middle of her admiring when he gave her shoulder a light tap, telling her that she was expected at the after-party too. Great, another two hours she’d have to endure as people praise her name for achievements unworthy of praise, just because she was Leah Williamson, captain of the Lionesses. But whatever else he said after that, Leah didn’t register, because her eyes had found a familiar frame standing a few tables away.

You looked dashing in your black nighttime attire, which sparkled every time the limelight happened to sweep past you. A gentle smile adorned your face as you conversed your heart away with a couple of actors whose names were lost on her. When you put your hand on one of them and laughed, your eyed darted over to her for a split second.

Only when those actors had left, did she even think of approaching you, but her feet were planted on the ground.

One, two, three, she counted in her head. One, two, three; come on, Leah . . .

“Hi, you!” There was a residual cheerfulness from your previous conversation in your voice. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” she tried to chuckle away her nerves, wiping the sweat in her hands on her pant legs. “You been okay?”

“Yeah,” you said it so softly that she almost missed it, if she wasn’t watching your lips. “Are you? Beth says you don’t come around her place anymore.”

“You still talk to Beth?”

“Yeah, she’s my friend, Lee. I . . . hope you don’t mind.”

“No! No, that’s . . . it’s great.” Leah said quickly.

You had smiled at her gratefully, and grasped her hand. “It’s good seeing you again.”

“You too.” She had said, robotically, before deciding against it. “Hey, don’t be a stranger, alright?”

You smiled again. This time, you brought her into your chest and wrapped your arms around her neck. “You first,” you said with a glint in your eyes, then you disappeared into the crowd.

And for a few brief moments, Leah Williamson didn’t think about how exhausted she was, only about how much she has missed being held by you. After all, it had been almost two years since she and you broke up, and maybe Leah was never able to move on like she had promised you.

How could she?

NINE. Be My Mistake.

She hated the feeling afterwards. She hated herself for having initiated it, for chasing after the girl like a hungry wolf in that nightclub. Now, Leah couldn’t bear the feeling of her lanky arms and sweaty skin touching her, like the intimacy was warranted, like she had somehow earned it.

Leah knew it was begrudging of her to shove the girl’s arm away so heartlessly and move upright to the edge of the bed, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t bring herself to be intimate with someone else, not yet. Not when every time she felt her skin she imagined yours, soft and scented with your familiar smell; every time she closed her eyes she saw your face like a ghost, refusing to leave her psyche; every time she opened her mouth to let out a noise of pleasure, it took everything in her to hold herself back from uttering Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.

The girl was confused but she was still, no doubt trying to decipher the sudden shift in Leah’s demeanor. She hated her stillness, the way her eyes watched her frame like she was a wounded animal in its enclosure.

“Please leave,” Leah said quietly, begging.

Silence.

“I don’t know what you’re going through, but if . . . you need someone—”

“Thank you, Delaney.” She gritted her teeth. “Please get out.”

Tonight, it was Delaney with the fiery red hair and dimples peppered over her cheekbones. A few nights ago, it was Lisa-Mae with the sultry brown eyes and unforgettable plump lips. Then there might have been an Erin and Hailey and Polly and maybe even a Daniela from when she visited Keira in Barcelona. She hated that she somehow remembered all of their names and kept count. Body upon body, yet she could not forget the one body she was using them all to forget about.

She couldn’t turn to alcohol, couldn’t smoke or do hard drugs because they would affect her performance on the pitch, but God knows she was thinking about it constantly. Anything to take this pain away for a moment, lest she turns into the starving wolf and goes out to hunt at night again. If only the press caught on to what she was doing.

Righteous Lioness turned starving wolf the moment the loneliness becomes a little too much to bare.

But she knew you wouldn’t have judged her. No, you would wrap her in your arms and let her scream, cry, do whatever she wanted to rid herself of the torment. She remembered all the nights you spent on the bathroom floor with her as she battled through her endometriosis, and how you would hold her like the world was about to collapse outside the window.

Leah was on the bathroom floor again, but she was alone this time, and the floor tiles felt colder and harsher than she had remembered.

TEN. Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy).

The feeling she got when the three whistles finally blew came to Leah quite rarely. It was one of elation and immense joy that the result of the game was finalized, because she had known half an hour ago that Arsenal would bring home the crucial three points from the match.

She brought her fists in the air as she made her rounds, patting her teammates on the back and shaking hands with opponents. She found Kyra and hoisted her in the air with a tight hug, as her younger teammate managed to score and assist today.

“Thank you, Leah.” Kyra giggled, as she was put down. “Is Y/N here?”

Leah’s smile remained, but she scrunched her eyebrows. “How did you hear about that?”

“How could I not? Y/N Y/L/N, coming to watch us play. I won’t be surprised if social media was buzzing about that rather than the actual match.”

If Kyra knew, that meant the entire team knew. She would endure the endless teasing if it meant getting to see you again, though.

Leah had found where you were sitting right from the start, in the VIP box where her friends and family sat, the usual spot you occupied when you were still together. Back then, she would watch you jog down the stairs with a blinding grin on your face, hop over the barricade and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. It could be a sold-out Emirates Stadium, but the only thing she wanted to watch was you. She still wanted to.

“Hi! Great game today.” You didn’t hug her, but did something far worse. You swung your arm and gave her bicep a quick pat, like a friend would.

“Thanks,” she said. “Should have scored that header though.”

“Hey, don’t put yourself down like that. You were great.” Somehow, your words made her feel worse about herself, and she just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again. They felt patronizing.

Not far away, Beth’s joyful laughter cut through her sulking. Turning to look at the woman, she saw Beth wrapping her arms tightly around Viv’s neck and the Dutch spinning her around gleefully. Viv had managed to score a hat-trick today—her first since returning from her ACL injury—and even if she didn’t celebrate such an important feat, she would be dragged into one because her girlfriend definitely wouldn’t leave it alone.

It reminded her of when she would come home and celebrate her wins with you. She didn’t need any fancy parties or lavish gifts, just being in your company was more than enough. You would always end up buying her gifts though. “Just because”, you would say, the I love you going unspoken, but she knew it was there. She could always feel it hanging in the silence, in the spaces in your home, even when you were half a world away filming. She could always feel it, like a hearth, a palpable warmth flickering in her chest.

It made her envious watching Beth and Viv that they had what she once did.

“Y/N! You made it!” Beth’s voice tore Leah from her thoughts.

Despite her sentimental predicament, a chuckle made its way onto her lips as she watched you embrace Beth like two schoolgirls finally united again after the summer holidays.

“How long are you staying in London?” Beth asked.

“I don’t know, really,” you replied. “I’m doing a thing with Stella McCartney, so it might take a while.”

Leah couldn’t help but perk up at that. She could feel Viv glancing at her from the corner of her eyes.

“No way! Look at ya. Moving on to the fashion world already!” Beth exclaimed and gave your shoulder a light shove.

Only when you and Beth had walked away happily chatting did Vivianne elbow her gently.

“They seem happy,” the Dutch said.

“Yeah,” Leah pursed her lips. “That’s good.”

“And you? Are you happy?”

Leah knew that the both of them knew she wasn’t, but that wasn’t the right answer. She would not admit to something that she has been working for two years to get over, because it would mean that her woes were all for nothing.

“I am,” she nodded. “I’m glad they’re happy.”

If anything, Leah still loved you enough to admit that.

ELEVEN. Me.

Leah didn’t sleep much these days. She never really did—adrenaline being her biggest enemy—but she would find herself crying in frustration at four in the morning, unable to fall asleep.

It would be during those torturous hours that she would reminisce on the conversation in which she pulled the plug on your relationship.

It was a slippery slope of miscommunication, both of you were to blame, but she was the one who decided to run away instead of trying to work it out. She still kept the ring in a drawer somewhere, but the memory of your rejection made it to painful to look at.

In hindsight, she could have said it a bit differently, but she was close to exploding the previous days that all of it came flooding out of her.

She replayed the conversation often, like a broken record in her head, swapping out things that she could have said or you could have said that would have lead to a different outcome, maybe one in which she wasn’t so miserable two years on.

It was 1:43am, and she was wide awake yet again. You’d always had an irregular sleep pattern, and she wondered whether you were awake too.

She knew it was a mistake, and that she would regret it in the morning, but she texted you anyway.

hey are u awake?

Slamming her phone on the other side of the bed, Leah curled in on herself, burying her face in the pillows trying not to cry. If she hadn’t looked up in time, she would almost miss the incoming call on her screen. It was you.

“Hey,” she picked up after sniffling her tears away.

“Hey, you,” your voice was soft and lulling. “What an odd time for a footballer to be awake. Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?”

This made her chuckle. “If I did get all of my beauty sleep, you lot would have no chance.”

“Watch out, everyone. Leah Williamson’s ego is inflating, try not get crushed by it.”

As Leah’s laughter died down, she felt an awkwardness settled over the line. A silence once so comfortable now felt forced, straining under the pull between what once was and the ruins of it. The heavy weight of unspoken words curled on the tip of her tongue, the broken record of her mistake playing ever louder in her head.

“I didn’t expect to hear from you,” you finally broke the silence, your voice teetering between caution and curiosity.

“Yeah, well, insomnia makes one do questionable things.”

Leah wondered if she had accidentally revealed too much, and whether it was appropriate to do so. You two weren’t intimate anymore, you were barely friends nowadays, the finest thread of your acquaintance lied solely on your hangouts with Beth. How strange it was, you were half of her soul. Now you were almost like passersby on the street.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, a sense of concern in your tone.

“Um,” she hummed, trying to pull herself together. “Not really. I-I haven’t been doing too well.”

“Leah,” you said. “I-I know we’re not as close as we were before, but I wasn’t lying when I said I still want us to be friendly at least. I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

“I know.” She said, her voice wavering. She wouldn’t be able to hide her feelings from you, never you. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner.”

“It’s okay, Lee. It hurt me a lot, not gonna lie, but I understand where you were coming from.”

Leah couldn’t hold it in anymore, and squeezed her eyes shut, her tears wetting the pillow she lay on. “I can’t be your friend, Y/N. I can’t just pretend like the last five years didn’t happen.”

There was a brief silence once more before you spoke. “I know. Might be selfish of me to wish things were different.”

“Then I’m selfish too,” she said, almost a whisper.

There was a pause, in which Leah bit the inside of her cheeks so hard they might start bleeding.

“Are you coming to Beth’s thing on Friday?” You asked.

“I think I’m expected to be there. Why?”

“Good, I’ll be there too. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” Leah said dumbly.

“Now, go to sleep.”

She giggled. “You first.”

TWELVE. Sincerity Is Scary.

Leah’s teammates have teased her many times throughout the evening, stating her unnecessary brooding was actually unnecessary this time and that she should liven up. She really couldn’t. Just thinking about seeing you again tonight made her want to have a heart attack and end her misery right there.

But the moment she heard your voice as you stepped into Beth and Viv’s house, a bottle of wine in hand and a bright smile on your lips, Leah felt her anxiety dissipate into oblivion, scolding herself for ever feeling nervous.

After all, it was you.

She waited patiently with a soft smile, her arms folded behind her back as she waited for all the girls to swoon over you. She had all night to keep you company, she was in no rush.

“Hey,” you found her after all the canoodling. Extending an arm, you awaited a hug which she gladly accepted.

“Hi,” she offered to take your jacket and hung it on the rack by the door. “You got here alright?”

“Man, the traffic at rush hour,” you sighed exasperatedly. “That’s the one thing I’ll never get used to. Almost makes me miss you being my personal chauffeur.”

She laughed. “That’s the only thing I was good for, was it?”

You narrowed your eyes at her teasingly. “Not just that.”

Leah wasn’t sure what you meant entirely with We’ll talk then, but seeing as she was the one who stupidly broke up with you, the balls were entirely in your court. She was just happy you were still willing to talk to her after she called you at 2am to blabber her insomniac nonsense.

She wasn’t courageous enough to sit directly next to you at the dinner table, but rather took the seat next to Katie who sat in front of you. Courage wasn’t something Leah felt much lately, and it took seeing you again for her to admit that. Perhaps she was never brave, but you always made her feel like it anyway.

Everyone loved you, the movie star that graced her team’s humble dinner. She couldn’t help but watch in awe as you managed to charm the pants off of everyone at the table with your witty remarks and crazy anecdotes. You had a presence that made everyone want to be your friend; it made her uncharacteristically shy at trying to get you to notice her, that she resorted to watching you from afar. And the few times you would make eye-contact with her, she could only look away, bashful that she had been caught staring, as her courage dwindling with each gaze.

Later in the night, when everyone was scattered around the house chatting, she found you sitting alone on the patio. Upon closer look, she could make out a smaller, fluffy unit in the form of Myle, Beth and Viv’s little pup, prancing around in front of you, waiting for you to throw the tennis ball in your hand.

The constant sound of the girls’ conversations died down the moment she stepped out in the backyard, now lit with rows of incandescent lights overhead. Myle barked once with excitement as she spotted Leah approaching.

“I think she wants you to throw it,” you handed her the ball.

She grinned and took it. “No one beats Auntie Leah.”

Little Myle was quick to launch herself across the yard on a mission to retrieve her precious artifact.

“I wanted a dog really bad, the first year we started dating.” You said, pulling your knees to your chest as a gust of wind pulled at your hair. “I wanted a little corgi or an Italian greyhound. I spent hours looking for one to adopt and researched food, bills, insurance and stuff.”

“Why didn’t you get one?” Leah asked.

“We haven’t even moved in together at that point. Plus, I was still bouncing around, you knew that.”

She did. You were shooting a movie in Canada the few first months you and her started talking. Then, you were hopping around Spain, Portugal and various parts of the UK for another project. It wasn’t ideal, but still much closer than Canada. You would fly out every other weekend to watch her play, and she would do the same and visit you on-set, moving most things aside for a couple days with you.

“I would have loved a dog, I don’t know about you.”

“I’m sure you would have. You’d probably love it more than me,” you laughed.

“No,” Leah shook her head softly. “Never.”

Summer was approaching. She could feel it in the mildness despite the breeze. For a while, the soft murmur of the wind caressing the trees was all she could hear, and Myle’s occasional huff as she impatiently waited for the ball to be tossed again.

You both sat there watching her, fantasizing of a different life, a dream that never materialized, another fragment of memories again tainted by what-ifs. Leah bit her lip, trying to calm her spiraling thoughts. She felt her courage slipping away again.

“I’m sorry I called you the other day,” she pursed her lips. “That wasn’t very appropriate. I should have asked to talk to you properly.”

“Don’t worry. Wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve done.” She heard you chuckle next to her. “I’ve had some time to think about us. Admittedly, I didn’t want to think about it at all the first few months, but my therapist told me I had to face it one way or another.”

Leah held her breath. This was the part where you tell her that you’d moved on and that she should stop pestering you. One of her knees started bouncing up and down as she waited for you to talk.

“I had to face the fact that you’re the love of my life, and that night I met you and we danced to Hozier together—on the first night we met no less—was the second best night of my life. The best was when you told me you loved me. And the worst night of my life was when you broke up with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Leah whispered, feeling her throat tighten at your confession.

“No,” you said, moving closer. “I don’t regret it. I wasn’t ready when you proposed, and that was my truth. But Leah, I’d be lying if I said that I’d be okay with letting you go again.”

“I should’ve talked to you about marriage before I asked you to marry me. It wasn’t fair on you.” Leah offered you a tearful smile.

“I want to try again. I would do it again for you.” You reached out and wiped away the tears that had silently rolled down her cheeks as she listened to you.

“I thought I’d lost my chance,” she said. “I thought you’d moved on.”

“Oh, baby,” your thumb brushed over her cheek softly. “How could you think I’d ever be able to forget about you?”

She let out a soft cry of relief. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and there was only one thing she thought of doing.

So she leaned in, never minding her wet cheeks. The last thing she saw was you closing your eyes too.

“Oh—sorry!”

The two of you jumped apart at the voice behind you. Leah turned around with a visible scowl on her face, seeing Beth grimace sheepishly as she called for Myle.

“It’s her dinner time. Come, little one, you hungry?” Beth attempted to explain herself, as Myle sprinted inside. “Alright then. As you were.”

The moment the door closed, you burst into laughter, making her break out of her frown and smile with you. “I can’t believe that just happened,” you said, laughing into her shoulder.

“I’m going to kill her,” she shook her head and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

She didn’t mind it too much, because she got to take you home later and make up for the last two years until the early hours of the morning. You and her would laugh about it years later.

THIRTEEN. About You.

Your lover never backed down from a challenge.

That was her way, and that was what made her one of the best in her sport, her unrelenting spirit.

Yet, her legs felt like they would turn to jelly the moment she laid her eyes on you at the end of the aisle, umber dirt covered in white rose petals. She felt like drowning in her emotions which had all risen to the surface, and the waves would only plunge her further into itself until she was completely immobilized by it. But she knew once she was able to pull herself together and walk to you on the other end of that path, heaven would be waiting for her.

The officiate went on and on about love, life, and promises of forever, but she had made that promise to you long before this day. She kissed you fervently the moment she was able to.

It only seemed fitting that the first chapter of your story began with a dance, and the most important one to also end with a dance. She offered you a hand, and you gladly took it, a childish giggle bubbling in your throat. The song you danced to the first night you met rang out in the venue, a soft and folksy tune the backdrop of your falling in love.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” She said with a teasing grin.

You gazed into her eyes like they held the world. You had no idea that her heart beat for you, how her soul yearned for yours, how her life will not forever be intertwined with yours.

You closed your eyes and hummed, swaying with her slowly, just like you’d practiced at home a couple of weeks ago, only that instead of the four walls of your shared home baring witness to this dance, it was all your friends and families.

Memories of the first night you met, and the one in which she promised you her heart bubbled as she saw the serene look in your face. You both have come so far.

You placed your head on her chest for all to see, the way you do when you are tired after long hours of work in front of the camera, when all you wanted was the magic and warmth of her company.

Leah smiled; she couldn’t stop smiling. She smiled and smiled until her cheeks ached, even beyond then, until forever.

“No,” you mumbled. “Not bad at all.”

a/n: happy holidays to everyone :)

[tainted-liquor]

'Hot Wheels! ...🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ft. 1610Miles

...⋆｡° ✮

Ingredients: sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of lemon zest!

TWs: A lil suggestive, but nth serious? Miles js runs a hot wheels car across yo ass like a ramp😭

A/N: Inspired by my man lol

It was dark outside. Wayyy too dark, the kind of dark where your main priority would be to go straight home, regardless of what temptations of bright colors pushed themselves into your face. But right now, you were In Miles' house while his parents were out on their little 15-year anniversary date. You spent the whole day dancing in his room, trying on some of his shorts for the sheer fun of it, and watching TV together so close that it would've sent Mrs. Morales into a coma. It was around 9 o'clock, and the two lovebirds still weren't back from their date.

So, you decided to do something to pass the time. You hopped on on the plushy material of the Morales' couch, doodling in Miles' sketchbook while you waited for him to finish taking his shower. Did you nearly lose your shit when you saw his many many Gwen drawings? Yeah. But you were instantly relieved to see most of them crossed out, painted over, or replaced with drawings of you entirely.

You scribbled down a rough sketch of Miles, groaning in frustration when it didn't turn out how you imagined. He looked French instead of Puerto Rican, and everything decided it wanted to go wrong. You put down the pencil, letting it fall between the concave of its pages before scrolling on your phone. It wasn't very long until Miles emerged from the bathroom, internally panicking as his toned muscles stared at your from his short-sleeved white tee. "Eugh, you stink. Get back in the shower" You joked, sporting a wicked grin and a quiet laugh.

He side-eyed you, looking you up and down before sucking his teeth. "I will throw you off that couch, don't play with me" he chuckled, shifting closer so you could see the tiny blue box in his right hand. "Oooh, what's that?" You asked, turning your head as he loomed over you. He opened the box, revealing 3 toy cars stacked on each other. "My cars!" He beamed, flopping comfortably on the living room floor as he took out every toy car oh so gently. "Cars? Like, Hot Wheels cars?" You inquired, watching as he pretended to rev up the engine.

It was no surprise that he owned toy cars, you had already seen his massive collection of rare toys and posters around his room. You thought it was cute, silently admiring as he explained why he even has the cars, and breaking down their value. "I mean, I can put them away if you want?" He asked, sounding slightly more embarrassed by the second. "Oh, no no no! I love that you have interests!" You reassured. You watched him stay in his own little world, before continuing to scroll on your phone.

It wasn't long before Miles looked back up at you, suddenly brewing an idea. He slowed his actions, analyzing your posture and looking down at his cars. He fought back a smirk that crept on his face, slowly advancing towards you like he was trying to see what you were looking at on your phone. You didn't really notice he was getting closer, finding yourself lost in the world of TikTok as you watched a guy dance to Kung Fu Fighting. And you didn't notice until you felt cold metal hit the fabric of your shorts.

"AH-! FUCK-MILES WH-..." You began, turning around to see Miles using the curve of your spine and the silhouette of your behind as a ramp. Miles burst out in laughter, shivering as he ran each car across your backside. "Are you fuckin' serious right now?" You deadpanned. He nodded, a smug but clearly overjoyed grin plastered on his face. "What? It's-...pffFFHAHAA...It's the perfect ramp!"

"Make me smack you miles"

Taglist: @ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @Fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x

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[literaila]

lean in, lean out

tasm!peter x fem!reader 

summary: in which peter invites you to a wedding. as his girlfriend. which, evidently, you are not. 

warnings: hahahaha, fake dating trope, pure fluff, peter is an idiot, reader is an idiot, we’re all idiots. 

a/n: let me know how you like it! 

*

"this is stupid." 

despite the tone of your voice, despite the absolute death grip you've got on his hand, and despite all other things—

peter looks down at you. smiles that same irritating smile. 

you know—the smile that makes your whole body feel... alive. the kind of smile that lights you on fire and doesn't apologize. no, you think. he's not sorry. 

and he's really not. 

"you're doing great," peter whispers, leaning a little bit closer to you. maybe just a little bit amused. 

or a lot. it's hard to tell with how much you hate him right now. his encouragement is not welcome.

his breath on your skin and every stupid ounce of affection and appreciation—it’s not welcome.

"why do i even have to be here?" you ask him, between gritted teeth. his hand is warm in yours. rough. "you could've said i got food poisoning, or the flu. or maybe i was ziplining and the wire broke." 

peter looks forward, but you see the little crinkle of his brows. 

"that's a terrible excuse," he tells you, "you can't just start ziplining. you have to, like, take a course." 

"because that's my biggest concern right now. the course i didn't take." 

peter snorts, but is quick to cover it up with a cough, smiling at the people who turn to stare at him. 

and at you with their evil eyes. 

with their very nice smiles and wonderful table manners. their curiosity towards the man who, at the moment, is tickling your hand with his fingertips.

you try to smile at them.

you're supposed to be keeping your mouth shut, listening to the speeches. 

you're actually supposed to be completely in love with peter. 

which, you think, in the deepest, darkest part of your mind, isn't really that big of a stretch.

"can't we just get kicked out?" you mutter to him, pretending that you're not both playing footsie under the table. that you’re a mature adult and peter is a child you’re just babysitting.

you're winning, obviously. 

"i don't think you can get kicked out of weddings..." but peter still looks around, like he's checking for a sign. 

"you can if you snuck in." 

peter looks at you again, sunken down in your seat and crossing your arms. 

which is what you'd be doing if that was a part of your elegant girlfriend role. 

instead, you're sitting up straight, pretending not to admire how the light catches his jaw--the little concave of his throat. pretending that you didn't stare at him the entire ceremony. nor that his suit has elicited an unfortunate reaction in your chest.

"luckily, we didn't sneak in." peter takes a sip of his water. he is deliberately avoiding your eyes. 

maybe it's the guilt. 

"yeah, yeah," you mutter, into your own glass—your only solace. "these people are your closest confidants. the people you'd want at your funeral, the ones who know you like no other—“

peter squeezes your hand. you can't tell if he's telling you to shut up, or thanking you. 

you honestly can't tell if it's hot in here or if you're just sweating. 

you contemplate chugging your water. 

"shh," peter whispers, but he leans in close again. just enough that you can smell his soap--some kind of spice, some kind of ridiculously addicting smell that you can never quite place. he kisses your head, smiles at someone who is looking at you. 

but you're staring at the floor. 

you're really trying to keep the dumb smile off of your face. 

there are spiders crawling into your brain and making you short-circuit.

"gotta have a wedding before a funeral. and," he says, teasing you, breaking the rules, "you're my closest confidant." 

"how romantic." 

peter moves back. it might be your tone of voice. he glances at you with a raised brow. "i thought this was stupid?" 

"it is," you're quick to answer. quick to throw yourself off of the nearest building. quick to run out of here and pretend that you got eaten alive by wolves. "i'm just saying—if you want to trick all of your family members, might as well do a good job." 

"i think we're a good couple," peter pouts like he's absolutely serious. 

the words want to send sparks down your heart. they want to hurl bowling balls down your stomach. 

but you refuse. 

"this is stupid," you repeat, but this time, your lip twitches. if only minimally. 

peter kicks your foot under the table. he opens his mouth to say something back. 

but then everyone is clapping, peter is looking over to you—you with wide eyes and far too temperamental emotions—and laughing. 

you must look shocked. 

the bride's father steps down from the stage, voice echoing as he tries to collect himself. 

peter pretends to wipe a tear away. 

when you turn away from him—thanking whatever gods there are that everyone is focused on the stage and away from your glowing eyes—you pretend that you can't feel him smirking back at you. 

*

"it's really not that big of a deal—“

you blink. you stare at him. you count to a million in your head, trying not to feel angry. or upset. 

it doesn't work. 

"you told your aunt that i was your girlfriend, and it's 'not that big of a deal?'" your poor imitation almost makes him laugh. almost. 

"she already thought we were dating anyway—“

you think about strangling him. or kicking the chair out from under his feet. "may thought that you were dating the stupid library girl?" 

"you're not stupid." 

"i was talking about the library." 

peter looks almost offended. "hey." 

you roll your eyes. drop your head into your hands. his eyes are warm on you, and you know that he's not going to look away until you say something else. 

until you agree to this stupid plan and pretend that the only reason he's okay with this is that he feels absolutely nothing for you—

it's not that big of a deal. really. 

peter places a hand on your shoulder. when you don't look up, he sighs. and then promptly pulls your hands away from your face. 

he is unbearably kind. smiling at you. 

"peter..." you say, almost relenting. almost letting him win. 

as if this was a game and you were a handy object he picked up along the way. just something to come in later. 

"hey," he says, softly, still staring at you. he's never been afraid of eye contact. "if you want me to call her back and tell her that i lied, i will. i don't want to make you uncomfortable." 

you'd like to mention that the only uncomfortable thing about any of this is how hard your heart bangs on your chest. 

your head lands back in your hands. 

peter pokes the bit of cheek he can still reach. you twitch. 

"or i can tell her we broke up. that you broke up with me. you'd get a kick out of that." he nudges your shoulder. 

you pretend that he didn't just slide his chair even closer to you.

you peek an eye at him. "i would enjoy breaking up with you."  

"ouch." but peter's smiling. "seriously," he says. "you don't have to go." 

you lean up, brows furrowed. "why don't you just find an actual date?" 

you try to say it seriously. like you're not bitter at the prospect. 

"having a first date at a wedding?" peter says, dryly. "no, thank you." 

"you could, i don't know, try actually dating someone. it doesn't have to be the first date." 

"i don't wanna date someone's," he's almost pouting. your lip twitches. 

this statement is a lie, of course, but it fills your heart with a little unnecessary glee. something a little bit like relief. you want to dig a hand into your ribcage and rip your heart out just so you can scold it a little. 

instead, you shake your head at peter. "then don't go with anyone. maybe you'll meet someone there. wedding romances are very popular this time of year.”

peter winces. "i know. it's just..." he blows a breath. runs a hand through his hair, only making it even messier. his sweater is bunched at his wrists. his glasses are hanging at the tip of his nose. 

you want to lean in close to him and push them up. 

you clench your fists. 

"it's just what?" 

"if i go alone then everyone will ask questions." 

you frown. "questions?" 

"yeah." peter sighs, avoids your eyes again. "and then they'll all give me those pitiful looks because 'poor peter he can't move on' and 'may said he was doing better.'" 

you observe his face carefully, tiny pricks of anger hitting directly at your chest. 

"it happens at every family event," peter laughs, looking back at you. "i… wanted them to see that i'm okay, for once. and you know i don't like answering questions." 

you laugh. you move a little bit closer to him, maybe subconsciously. "you don't have to go alone," you say. maybe to him. 

"i know," peter stares at you a second, smiles. "there's no one else i'd want to go with, though." 

unsure if he's poking fun at you or being serious, you choose the safe option. the smarter one. 

"i hate weddings," you declare to him, glaring. 

peter laughs, head thrown back, teeth showing. 

you feel a sense of pride. a tiny little branch growing in your chest—getting bigger. 

peter shakes his head, because he knows you're lying. he's nice enough not to say it. "plus, may already likes you. no awkward introduction." 

you raise a brow. "there wasn't any awkward introduction when i went home with you for thanksgiving."

"because she already liked you." 

"you giving me glowing reviews, parker?" 

he smiles. "no," tilts his head like he's hilarious. "may likes that you called me out on my bullshit." 

you push him, frowning. "i'm very nice to you." 

he rubs at his arm, still smiling at you. 

and then there's a moment where the two of you just stare. just look in each other's eyes like you wouldn't rather be doing anything else. 

you wouldn't. 

but you know peter is waiting. 

you take a deep breath in. 

it might be his stupid smile. or his dimples. 

it might be the way he's pleading with you--without his eyes, without even asking--like it's a secret that only you can keep. 

"okay," you tell him. "but i'm going to eat all of the cake." 

*

peter holds his hands out to you. 

it's late enough in the night that the lights are dim. that his eyes are bright, illuminated by the fluorescents above your head. his smile is soft, his hands are big. 

you frown. "what?" 

"let's dance." peter says this like it's obvious. like what else would you rather be doing right now?" 

you look down at the table, empty now. you look towards the dance floor, full. 

"yeah," you drawl. "maybe not." 

peter pouts. "you don't want to dance with me?" 

his hand is still out, still perfectly intimidating. 

"it has nothing to do with you, peter," you promise. "i don't want to dance with anyone." 

"but you're a great dancer." 

you point a finger at him. "there is no evidence of that." 

"fall semester, last year." 

"how very specific, peter." 

he smiles. he waves his hand like he's very impatient. "c'mon, it'll look weird if we don't dance." 

"you already look weird so i don't see the issue." 

his free hand goes to his chest, in mock offense. you smile at him, so adoring. 

"you dance around in my kitchen all the time." 

"not in heels." 

his face is blank. 

"not after i've just eaten a bunch of wedding cake." 

peter just stares at you. 

"peter," you whine, feeling intimidated. but mostly worried about being any clsoer to him than you have been all night. "please don't make me." 

"this is supposed to be fun." 

you cross your arms. your neck has begun to ache from looking up at him. 

"just one song," he makes a tiny little one with his finger as if that is going to convince you anymore. 

"it's never 'just' with you." 

peter crosses his heart. "scouts honor." 

"that was a cross, not a pledge. and you're not a boy scout." 

"i could've been," he sighs dreamily, looking up at the ceiling like he's got big goals. entire aspirations. 

and then he looks down at you and smiles again. 

and fine. 

maybe you dance with him. 

but it has nothing to do with his smile. you're merely trying to keep up appearances.

*

"when may calls you tomorrow and asks why your girlfriend hates you, just tell her—“ 

peter follows you as you stumble into the hotel room. 

he flicks the lights on and sets your bag down in the hallway. 

because he owes you, you just flop down on the bed. admiring how soft the sheets are. you lose track of your sentence. 

"do you want to shower?" 

"it is three in the morning, peter."

"yeah but you're all sticky." 

you sit up in bed and look at him--peter who has now removed his blazer. who is quickly undoing his tie and staring at you like he's never looked at you before. 

you look down at the sheets. rub your hands together because you're cold. 

"are you saying that you don't want to sleep next to me because i smell bad?" you ask him, scrunching your nose. 

peter slips his shoes off, laughing so quietly that you can barely hear it. he flops down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. 

"i don't remember implying that." 

you crawl closer to him, almost right above him. "it was written all over your face, parker." 

"well," he smiles at you, more amused. maybe delirious. "it's not like i haven't shared a bed with you before." 

you lay back, copying him. your hands rest at your sides, very close to his. 

you blink. the white of the ceiling looks particularly interesting. 

"it's too early to tell if that was an insult or not." 

peter snorts. his laughter shaking the entire bed. 

shaking your entire body from the inside out. 

and then he groans as he leans up, stretching. you close your eyes, refusing to look at him. 

refusing to notice how his shirt has ridden up his back and you can see an inch of soft warm skin. 

refusing to notice how the bed already smells like him. 

and the fact that you're supposed to sleep next to him, all night. 

and that maybe dancing with him left behind some spare anxiety, crawling up your skin and massaging your neck. 

you refuse anything. 

when you open your eyes again, peter is unbuttoning his shirt. 

"are you at least going to get in pajamas?" 

"peter, these are pajamas." 

he snorts. "really?" a shirt is thrown on the floor. a zipper can be heard from across the room. similar to your heart. "because i distinctly remember someone telling me that 'it was the most uncomfortable outfit ever' and 'not even satan would allow this.'" 

you sit up, moving to cross your legs. maybe you stare at him a little. "what?" you gasp. "who would say such a thing?" 

peter looks back at you and smiles. 

it's quite possibly—in the realm of possibilities and three in the morning thoughts—the prettiest thing he's ever seen. 

"here," he tosses you a shirt. a pair of sweatpants. 

how he found those in the vast depths of your suitcase, you are unsure. 

"i'm going to go brush my teeth, moisturize." 

"is that how you get that baby-smooth skin of yours?" 

peter raises an eyebrow at you. gestures down to the clothes in your lap. "change. get in bed. you look tired." 

you frown. "did my makeup smudge?" 

peter stares for a moment, surveying your face. his eyes are wide and his lips are just slightly parted. just enough for you to see a tiny bit of pink. a flash of white.

it’s a moment too long. peter clears his throat. "no," he says. "you--it, um. it looks good. you look beautiful." 

your eyes widen, if only a little bit. 

peter seems to realize this. he seems to run from you, if not literally, then figuratively. "okay. uh, you. change." he shakes his head. 

and then the bathroom door closes. 

*

you're tucked into bed when peter comes out ten minutes later. 

you don't bother to ask what took him so long. 

he smiles at you in the dark—you can see this, or, at least feel it. you're very familiar with it. 

and despite the fact that you have shared a bed with peter before, that you were miles closer to him only a couple of hours ago, you still feel a twitch of nerves as he climbs into bed next to you. 

the covers shift ever so slightly. 

and then peter turns towards you. he knows that you're still awake. 

you know that his eyes are soft. that there are circles under his eyes but he still looks just as beautiful. but he still looks like the person that you're undeniably in love with. 

whatever. 

"tired?" he whispers to you because it's dark. 

these are late-night secrets, see. 

"yes." you whisper back. "no." 

peter chuckles, so low and quiet. 

it's silent for a moment. cars passing by the room. lights shining in through the curtains. 

your heart bouncing across the walls and hoping to land in peter's hands. 

"did you have fun?" he asks, so soft. 

you almost freeze. almost completely forget yourself. "yeah. yes.  i—it wasn't as bad as i thought it would be." 

"i think the dancing really sold it." 

"oh, you mean, you stepping on my feet and me not yelling at you?" 

"uh-huh." 

"that's the testament to a good relationship, for sure." 

peter is smiling. 

you know that. 

maybe because you're also smiling. 

"you should go to bed," you say. "you're tired." 

"i'm really not," peter says. 

you want to lean in closer. something about the dark. something about spending the whole day with him. something about his eyes and his lips and his smiles—which, even now—are terrifying. 

something about the dark. 

"may wants to have breakfast with us," peter whispers to you. 

"yeah?" 

"yeah. i can tell her that you're too tired if you want." 

you clear your throat. swallow. "no. it's okay. i like hanging out with her." 

"yeah?" 

"yeah." 

peter is silent for a moment. he is so quiet that you're almost worried that he's disappeared into the dark. 

but he's there. 

your heart won't let you forget that. 

"peter?" you whisper. 

"yeah?" 

"thank you for bringing me." 

"thank you for being my girlfriend." 

the sentence weighs more than a pile of bricks on your chest. 

you think about the next ten minutes. about how this might be—this is—your last chance. this is it for peter being your boyfriend. even fake. 

it's worth something. 

but peter turns on his side, eyes shutting. 

and so you follow, pretending that you can't feel him, warm, so soft, next to you. 

you pretend that you can't hear his breathing. that all of this is meaningless. 

and you're getting used to it. pretending. 

still, you feel it, about seven minutes later. 

a couple of minutes after you're sure that peter's already fallen asleep. that he isn't plagued by these thoughts, these ideas like you are. 

it doesn't matter. 

it's seven minutes later, in the dark, so early in the morning. 

you feel peter's hand, right next to you. 

you feel him intertwine his fingers with you. 

and peter is warm and soft. rough and cold. 

he is asleep. but it means something. 

you pretend it doesn't. 

you fall asleep holding his hand. 

*

my masterlist here. 

tags:  @moonlarking-blog​ @v1ci0us​ @preciousbabypeter​ @alexxavicry​ @directioner5life​ @random_writer1021

[oleander-nin]

Shattered Calls(Yandere Rise Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: This popped into my head while I was in the car and I pounded it out in an hour. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: Yandere themes, breaking down a door to get to you, threatening behavior, anger, shoulder dislocation

Words: 784

Summary: You should have opened the door.

I sit against the door, one hand holding onto the sink for leverage and the other draped across my chest. I squeeze my shoulder in comfort as the door shakes again, Leo’s loud voice bouncing around the small room. I squeeze my eyes shut, my heart in my stomach as my blood rushes past my ears. Everything was too loud, too bright. My hands were shaking, my mind racing. The door was still shaking, every pound of Leo’s fist making it shudder and open at the corners. I couldn’t hold it closed for long. He was going to get in. “We can talk it out! Just open the door!”

I ignore his shouts, my lip quivering as I lean my head against the door, my body shaking just as much as the cheap wood. I pull my arm off my chest, pushing against the sink with both now. My body was giving up, the adrenaline coursing through me making me more weak than the power boost it was supposed to have. I let out another small cry when Leo kicks the door, the entire thing shuddering as it threatens to split down the middle.

“Open the door! I’m not saying it again!” The doorknob rattles, the pounding on the door continuing. I feel another small thud near the bottom, my heart stuttering as I let out a small cry. He was kicking the door. I feel the door creak and hear small snaps from the middle. I press harder against the door, my feet sliding uselessly against the floor in an attempt to give myself more leverage.

The seemingly endless banging stops for a moment and I pick my head up, wondering if he had given up. I wait for a moment, my ears straining to hear his voice, his breaths, to hear his fist pound on the door once more. Instead, I hear the padding of feet walking farther away, my blood running cold. His feet stop for a moment. For two. Then, the rushing sound of someone running at full speed, my mind going blank as I scramble away from the door as fast as I could move.

I fall into the bathtub as the door splinters open, the small area where the lock jutted out was completely destroyed, wood splintered and jagged. Leo stands in the doorway, his normally calm face painted in anger and his jaw tense. I try desperately to sit up in the tub and run as Leo starts stalking forwards, his eyes trained on my person and swirling with a dangerous fury. My hand slips on the porcelain surface, sending me further into the concave of the tub. I let out a scream as Leo harshly grabs my wrist, yanking me up towards him. Leo picks up my flailing body, my hands hitting and scratching any skin I could reach. “Stop!”

Leo ignores my struggling and pleas, simply grabbing my wrists and squeezing hard as he holds me up with his other arm on his hip like a parent would their misbehaving toddler. I glare at him, trying to muster up as much anger to battle the fear that had settled in my chest like a deep poison. Leo glared harshly and the fear won. I shrink in his hold, letting him move me in his arms until he holds me close to his chest with one arm under the back of my knees and the other on my back.

Leo carries me to his room, the dark look in his eyes grows with each step as we grow closer to his door. I feel my throat swell as I blink back tears, my hands shaking. Leo holds me firmly to his chest while he nudges the door to his room open, his arms tensing around me. He kicks the door shut, crossing the length of his room and dropping me unceremoniously onto his bed. My breath leaves my lungs when I hit the mattress, quickly trying to move off the bed and make another run for the door. Leo glares at me and shoves me back down by my shoulders, moving so he was sitting on my waist and pinning me down by my shoulders.

I let out a sob at the anger rolling off him in waves, my hands encircling his wrists as I look into his eyes. I feel myself shake, unable to calm my breathing while he stares down at me as if I were nothing more than a mistake he made. His face comes close to mine, his voice coming out in a single deadly breath. “You should have opened the door.”

My shoulder lets out a sickening pop and I scream.

[citrusinicake]

Day 2 :: Zombie Apocalypse

full text below

do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to be a zombie in this economy? you just go out there trying to have a bite to eat so you go up to some randos and they just start SHOOTING YOU! like straight up just SHOOTING YOU! like what the hell man? i mean i know im trying to rip your brains out and shit but cant you let a guy just fucking eat???? speaking of, this guy's brain tastes weird like im pretty sure its at least fifty percent plastic, maybe even a hundred percent i don't know. was he your boyfriend or something? does this mean you're single? wanna go out sometime? you're annoying as shit but i like that in a man, keeps you on your toes y'know? keeps you humble as well like you just wake up in bed one day and go "oh god this is the guy im dating and i don't even want to break up with him or anything what the hell's wrong with me," which i think is a pretty important thing to have-- at least for me 'cause im awesome as shit and if i don't have that sort of anchor i'll probably lke turn into god or something and i dont wanna be god. not out of self-esteem issues or anything, just out of principle 'cause i think that everyone should have a fair chance at killing me which not gonna lie is pretty easy but that's besides the point, the point is that i think anyone who wants to be god is fucking stupid and should just fucking die. like, hello??? who the hell do you think you are rying to reign above other people? are you stupid? are you dumb? hello? anyways, if you wanna know more about what i think of this i post a lot on r/atheism, im user u/waffleontopp-- wait , do i have to explain reddit to you? 'cause you seem more like a tumblrina to me, honestly reddit's pretty similar to tumblr so you won't have a lot of trouble figuring it out on your own but don't be shocked ifbyou see cock and balls on there since porn isn't banned there unlike tumblr. how's that whole thing treating you by the way? must be tough not seeing some girl's boobs every once in a while-- wait are you gay or bi? must be tough not seeing some guy's boobs every once in a while, that won't be problem if you start dating me though. haha just kidding, my chest is basically concave now after a survivor beat me repeatedly with a baseball bat so ive got like negative double D's now. oh but i do know this one guygirlthing whose boobs are out basically 24/7 who likes to hang out with me and this other guy so maybe that'll make up for it. they're not zombies and im pretty sure they didnt get infected so you don't have to worry about that but they miiiight have rabies or something im not sure to be honest so maybe watch out for that instead. if youre wondering why two non-infected humans are hanging out with a zombie then we're in the same boat, might have something to do with the possible rabies i mentioned earlier. also if they tell you that im their pet zombie that is simply not true, if anything it's the other way around, they're my pet guard dogs and they do basically anything i say even if it kills them. or at least i wish it would kill them, they're way too hardy in my opinion, i need them to die so i can eat their brains-- oh but then i'll have to do manual labor. hmm, on second thought, they can stay actually i don't wanna deal with all that. normally i dont even do my own kills nowadays, i just leave a trap or get the other two to do it for me, you guys just caught me offguard which is lowkey embarassing but trust me i am a huge, like Huge alpha sigma gamma male and would totally dominate everyone else around me. but not in a god way of course, just in a lone sigma alpha gamma wolf kinda way like those anime wolf furry drawings. you know the ones. and like im not a furry but not gonna lie they totally popped off with those

[ghoularaki]

baby's breath | 5

↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 4,790

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, water torture, drowning, emotional/physical abuse. NSFW (noncon, knifeplay, bondage, orgasm denial, no aftercare)

You shivered.

Levi had enough decency to graciously leave your pajamas alone. Not that they left much to the imagination and the water dripping off you only exposed you more. From your kneeling position, the man seemed almost endless. The sun behind him cast him in shadow like the night before. Given the circumstances, you could almost call him angelic. A halo of sunlight, a ring around his inky hair that shimmered.

God like in his stature, you’re to be left at his mercy.

The constant dripping of the water coming off the tip of the hose grated your ears. At the end of the hose was a high pressure nozzle with multiple settings. His thumb subtly flipped to the next setting with a click, click. Your body tensed in apprehension, back coiled tight.

“You’re lucky Erwin likes you.”

Both his face and voice were bored. As if torturing you was a chore and not something he indulged in. Despite his words, his eyes gleamed and sparked. Likened to flint hitting steel.

“Because if I had it my way, you would have been meat gifted to the neighbor’s dog,” He brought the nozzle up to his face, staring at it before glancing back at you, “This will have to do.”

“Fuck you,” You weakly spat, voice jittering at the end.

“We’ll get to that.”

You did not like what that entailed. Not like you could be too shocked with the fiasco he pulled at the dinner table. Levi wanted to break you down until nothing of you was left.

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, “We can do this the easy or hard way. Apologize.”

You scoffed at him, “Apologize? Apologize to the fucking bastards-”

Freezing cold water shot up into your nose and into your open mouth. You sputtered once more as Levi was merciless with directing the stream of water right into your face. Your hands begged to shoot out in front of you, to block the assault, but you could only pathetically squirm.

The stream was clicked off. Heaving over, your forehead hit the cement as you gasped for air, snot and drool poured from your orifices.

“Apologize.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to regroup yourself, but Levi stepped closer. Water filled your nostrils once more and you choked and gargled. The pain of liquid going up into your sinuses burned and stung at your eyes. You sucked in your lips to keep the water from going in your mouth and down into your lungs. It offered little help.

The stream hit harder, pelting you. Levi didn’t stop even as you tried to crawl away. It was getting hard to breathe. Fuck, you couldn’t breathe. Panic washed over you, your body shaking and going into overdrive.

“Stop!” You attempted to say, but the water only invaded more of your body.

He stopped. You flopped over to your side, already exhausted. How could you be so weak? Your chest rapidly expanded and concaved. Vision blurry, his form approached you to lift your head up from the ground with a firm grip on your hair.

“Apologize.”

His eyes swallowed you whole. You had to fight, at least for a little longer. Call it stubbornness or stupidity, but you refused to roll over.

“N-no.”

Levi dropped you instantly. Unable to catch yourself, your temple smacked against the concrete. If your head wasn’t swimming enough, it sure was now. Elegantly, he straightened his back and loomed over you properly.

Like he was offended you would dare glare up at him, he sprayed the water at you once more. In your laying position, the ability to crawl away became harder. Desperate for oxygen you rapidly turn your body over, the harsh stream now hitting your back.

“Squirmy little mutt.” You swore you heard Levi mutter over the whooshing hose.

A boot clad foot anchored itself on your hip and turn you back over. He sprayed it right into your face, your back arched with your hands firm against your spine. As your feet scrambled to push yourself from his grip, he dug his heel further into the bone until you screamed. If he applied just a little more pressure your hip would pop out of place. Bruises surely were already forming. The kind that’s beneath skin and muscles ache cruelly.

More water entered your agape mouth. You coughed off the liquid only for it to bubble back into the same orifice along with the constant stream. Your lungs were soggy and expanded.

Feet uselessly kicking, Levi clicked the water off once more.

Instinctively you coughed the water out from your chest. Tilting your head to the side to avoid the same misfortune before, you gazed further into the backyard. From here the woods stretched far, too far for the neighbors to see.

With the tip of his shoe, Levi tilted your face back towards him. “Oi, brat, did I kill you already?”

Blankly, you moved your eyes to his. The movement was enough of an answer for him.

Under his stare, you shivered and your teeth clattered. With the summer sun blaring down on you, you would think you would welcome the cold water, but it only pierced your skin. Nothing was refreshing about the way he took away your right to breathe over and over.

“Apologize.”

From the loss of oxygen to your brain and your skull bouncing off the concrete, his words barely processed. All you could hear was your own rugged inhales. Blood pumped in your ears as you pinched your eyebrows.

Taking your sluggish movement as defiance, he continued his torture once more. Clamping your mouth shut, the water hit your nostrils for the umpteenth time in a row. The burn and sting cracked your resolve. You were dying or at least getting close to it.

And you refused to die by the hands of such a disgusting man like him.

Turning your head to the side, you screamed, “I’m sorry!”

Warmth. The water stopped: hopefully for good. With a jittering jaw, you repeated yourself with a softer tone. Creaking your neck back up to Levi, you said it for a third time.

“Tch.”

He offered no response to your plea masked as an apology. When he raised the hose again, you yelped and scrambled, trying to get back into the kneeling position.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Levi quickly quelled your panicking by tugging the hose and wrapping the tubing between his hand and under his elbow, looping it round and round while walking towards the rack. A few paces away from your sniveling form, he neatly laid it down and screwed off the valve, completely turning the water off.

Gracefully, he made his way back to you. Able to get into a proper kneeling position, you looked up at him. You must be a mess. Snot and drool slipping down your puffy lips, eyes bloodshot. As he did earlier, he peered down at you from under his nose.

Silence swarmed you.

Both of you were like animals waiting for the other to strike. Him the predator and you the prey, but even sometimes a mouse will strike back. Though, as your shoulders heaved, you had no fight left in you. For now.

Sensing this, Levi crouched down to your level. With a patient hand he reached towards your face. You flinched back in fear. The alarm bells of what said hand did mere moments ago blared in your brain. To your surprise, he gently wiped the snotted pooling on your cupid’s bow.

“What a mess.”

Cupping your cheek, you leaned into the warmth of his palm. Later you can chastise yourself for being weak, but right now all the energy in your body was sapped out of you. Your head heavy, you rested your weight into him. Again, his thumb wiped under your eye to get rid of the residue of his making.

Eyes slipped shut, you embraced the calm. Your skin prickled as his irises pierced into you, but you kept yourself ignorant. Lulled by his digit that carassed your cheekbone, your body collapsed.

Or it would have if his hand didn’t slither its way to your nape.

Screaming out in agony, your hands jerk to relieve the pain on your scalp. The chain jiggled in a mocking tone, as you peer up at Levi. Hand wrapped firmly in your hair, his knees cracked as he nimbly got back up to his feet. Bound, there was no way for you to comfortably accommodate him dragging you by your hair.

“Stop it!” Hiccuping hurt your chest.

He said nothing as he lugged you through the yard. More pleas fell from your mouth, varying in pitch. Perfectly cut and watered grass scraped against your skin. The blades pricked at you.

From under you, your feet pathetically kicked. You attempted to twist your body out of his grasp, but it only put more pressure onto your burning scalp. As much as it pained you, it would hurt less to cease fighting. You have no clue how much more your body could take.

With the angle all you could see was the bright blue skies above you. The merry color mocked you. With a thud, Levi dropped your body onto the ground. The wind was knocked out of you as you landed harshly on your back and therefore your hands. Luckily, your fingers were tucked away into a fist or else surely you would have broken one.

Coughing, you turn on your side to see where Levi stopped at. In the ground were two red, metal doors. He gripped the two handles and ripped them open with little effort. Leading down into the dark were a set of concrete stairs.

Going back to you, he leaned back down to grab your hair but you screamed once more.

“G-get away from me! Don’t touch me, you fucking freak.”

Levi grabbed you by the arm and forced you up, now kneeling where he had been to open the heavy doors.

He sneered, “As you wish.”

Dropping your arm, he offered you little relief before shoving his foot into your side and kicking you down the stairs. A gasp stuck in your throat as your body flew down the stairs like a ragdoll. The rough material scratched your exposed skin. Your shoulders took the brunt of your fall. Landing at the bottom, your head smacked against the hard ground. The wound on your temple reopened, mixing with the blood dribbling from the back of your head.

Discombobulated, your eyes dragged to Levi standing at the top of the stairway. For a moment, you thought he was going to shut the doors and leave you here to rot, but his form got closer and closer. His feet smacked against the concrete. It could be your vision or throbbing head, but you swore the basement shook with every step he took.

He stopped midway, to turn and shut the rusted doors. They closed with a resonating screech and rattle. With a boom, you were wrapped in darkness once more. In the black, Levi's presence swarmed you. Every sound he made amplified.

Step, step, step, step.

Thin metal scraping together pierced your ears before a light buzzed on. Squinting one eye, a dangling lightbulb flicked on. Releasing the tiny, metal chain, it swung in the air.

Around you was a normal basement. To the right, a work bench sat along with welding tools, a cutting table for wood, and a portable, steel set of drawers. On the other side was a lawnmower, weedwacker and a bunch of old furniture. A little further away stood a door. Must be the way into the main part of the house.

A musk clung to the air. A type of musk that sunk deep into the concrete walls, thick with moisture from being underground. Wrinkling your nose, you kept Levi in your sight. While you were observing your surroundings he had spawned right next to you.

“Don’t run.”

You wanted to laugh. How could you with the state you were in? Even if freed from your restraints, you don’t think you could stand up straight. Him justling you to sit on your butt was enough to trigger your gag reflex. Biting your tongue, you will down the urge to vomit.

Reaching behind you, Levi unfurled your bindings behind your back. Sagging in relief, without thought you leaned your forehead against his shoulder. He tensed for a moment, but offered nothing more than that.

Fuck, you were more spent than you thought.

The leather cuffs fell to the floor with a clunk. Next he went to your legs. Repeating the same motion of pulling the belts away from each other, you were freed.

Levi bent over to grab both cuffs. Wrapping an arm around your lower back, he hauled you over his shoulder. You wanted to protest, but the second hit to your head had done you in. The same arm that hauled you over, he kept tight around your thighs in case you squirmed. Him knowing it would only take one arm to pin you down was insulting.

His other hand he let dangle as he clutched onto the restraints. Levi could never leave anything untidy. He crossed the room towards the door you were eyeing. You crumpled further with the knowledge your punishment was over.

Or at least you hoped.

Upon opening the door, you were sadly mistaken. From your limited view point, there were no stairs leading you upwards into the house. Beneath you was a hardwood floor, a deeper hue than any other flooring in the house.

Levi’s shoes thumped against the ground as you tried to survey more of your surroundings. The room was dim, a soft lighting that would put you to sleep if under different circumstances. Tilting your head, through the bobbing there lined on the walls, dangling from black metal framing were an array of whips, canes and floggers.

In the middle of the room was a leather spanking bench that could fold in or out into a different shape. Off to the side sat a metal table, almost clashing with the rest of the room, with leather cuffs at the corners. Across the way, a rose velvet couch placed for what you could assume could be simply viewing pleasure. A hook hung from the wall. There was another door right in between the metal framing, slight ajar showcasing more restraints and ropes.

A fear never before bloomed inside you. He couldn’t be serious? What type of shit were these freaks into. You only got here, he couldn’t be actually thinking of punishing you like this. You thought this was over.

Whimpering, you kicked up a fuss, squirming on his shoulder. Knowing, your tantrum was coming, Levi clutched further onto your thigh. His heavy hand bruised the skin.

“Knock it off,” Levi sneered.

“W-what are you doing? I don’t like this, I’m scared.” You hoped making yourself smaller would appease him.

“You should be.”

Levi flung you onto the sliver, metal table, laying you on it horizontally so your head dangled off the edge. Your back arched at the cold biting your exposed skin. Quickly, you launched yourself to the side to crawl off the surface. Wrangling you back into place, he grabbed your right wrist and stretched to the cuff at the far end.

“Get off me, you prick!”

“Quiet,” He snapped and grunted when you went to knee him in the stomach. “Do you have a death wish?”

You ignored him to keep growling like a cornered, feral cat. Lifting his own knee up, Levi pinned your kicking leg down. The bone dug into your inner thigh. With aggravating dexterity, your wrist was shackled to the table. His head imposingly close to yours. Goosebumps fluttered on your neck from his heavy breath against it. Your left hand still free, you stupidly hit him repeatedly to the side of the head. Desperate to get him away from you and you out of this room.

He took it in stride like wrangling a wayward child. You hissed when the restraint pinched your skin with how tight he pulled it. Free of this task, Levi turned his side so his nose brushed against your cheekbone. As you went to hit him again, he clutched your hand mid air, lidded gaze on yours.

“I’m going to swallow you whole until nothing is left of you besides me.”

Dragging his nose up until it touched yours, he never let his eyes stray. Your chest heaved, the hand engulfed by his, struggled to escape.

“I hope you fucking choke.”

Your head whipped to the right at Levi’s knuckles hitting your cheek. Blood pooled in your mouth from the split lip. Turning back towards him with breakneck speed, you spit in his face. The pinky saliva landed right under his eye. He flinched back slightly with flared nostrils.

Upper lip twitching back in a restrained snarl, Levi wiped the bloody spit off his face and continued tying up your other arm. The leather whistled with how fast he tightened it. You grunted at it cutting off your circulation.

Clutching your jaw, he forced your head up even higher, straining your neck and shoulders, “You don’t get to complain, Bitch. I hear another peep out of you and I’ll beat you bloody.”

At that, he departed from your body and stomped off further into the room. You shake out your leg, already sore and bruises forming. Letting your body loose, your toes brush against the floor and your head lulls backwards. The blood rushed to your brain as you watched Levi swing the closet door further open, the whole room upside down. This definitely didn’t help your concussion, but that’s the least of your problems.

Blurrily you watched Levi come back to you, kicking the door shut with his foot. In his hands were black rope and something you couldn’t decipher. Apprehension squeezed your chest so hard, the tendons throbbed. Ignoring you, he unraveled the rope—the other he placed next to you on the table along with the mystery item—looping it around the metal ring right under where the cuff hung.

Silently, he grabbed your leg and stretched it out so he could wrap the rope around just above your knee. You twisted your body to kick Levi in the head, but he stopped with a firm grip on your ankle.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself.” His calm tone struck more terror in you than his gritted gripes. A passive Levi meant a scheming Levi.

Deep inside you wanted to try again, knock him out and release yourself of your binds. Yet you know you were no match for this man. So with a sniveling expression, you let your leg slack in his hold. He let you down and continued his intricate knots.

He moved the rope down your thigh, close to your groin and looped it three times. Your leg was bent so he could tie your ankle firmly to your thigh, unable to close yourself off to him. Three times it went, the velvety fabric digging into the supple flesh. The rest of the coiled fibers were tugged to the other corner securely.

Once done, the man tugged at his binds. Giving a nod, satisfied at his work. He repeated the motions with your other leg, your muscles stretched beyond their capabilities. Oh how you wanted to whimper and groan.

Completely at his mercy did you realize your ass hung slightly over the edge, at perfect distance for Levi’s crotch to line up with yours. You bit your lip so hard, blood pooled, terrified. You would rather deal with being drowned again than this. Anything but this.

Coming closer to you, Levi deposited his bulge against your vulnerable crotch. The way his cock hardened, mocking you. Reaching over, he swiped the unknown item in front of you.

A knife.

He had taken a knife from the closet. Instinct consumed your nervous system as you squirmed at your restraints. You whipped your head to your right cuff and tugged. Frantically you looked to the other in hopes this one could be looser. You then look at Levi with bouncing pupils.

“Please.”

A flick of a knife popping open was your response.

“Levi, please!” Your voice pitched into hysterics, but quickly stopped when he shoved the flat side of it in your open mouth.

Tugged the skin further out, your tongue retreated as further back as it could. The muscles tingled at the phantom sensation of being pricked.

“Look at you,” A hand larger and warmer than yours splayed across your chest. The slender fingers drummed to the rhythm of your heartbeat. Taunting you. “A sniveling, little puppy.”

He let you bask in your fear for one more moment before retracting the blade from your mouth. Drool dripped down from your lip.

“Messy,” He teased with no emotion.

Dragging the knife down the path of the drool, he trailed the end from your chin, to underneath it and down the curved line of your neck. Shivers wracked through your taut body. Further it traveled over your collarbone and to the strap of your shirt.

Tucking the sharp edge under the flimsy fabric, he barely tugged and it came undone. Dragging to the other side, he cut it off as well. The procedure was simply to antagonize you. You both knew he could easily rip the thin, damp fabric into pieces, but he wanted the anticipation. He craved and drank up how your body trembled for him. The man loved playing with his food.

Going back to the middle, he tugged the knife down the middle, slicing right through the shirt. Tugging the ruined clothes away, your torso left on display for him. Your nipples puckered at the exposed, cool air (along with being scared shitless).

Cruelly, he tapped the flat of the knife against your clothed slit, backing away from you to finish unwrapping his present. You flinched when the knife nicked your thigh as he cut away the chiffon shorts, taking your panties with it. The other side swiftly cut in half, too. Same with your shirt, your bottoms were tugged away from you and tucked somewhere else.

You were left bare for the man before you, towering over you once more. Your focus stayed on the knife. Levi clicked the knife closed and left it out where you could reach it. Not like you could grab it, anyway. The state of your undress was disproportionate to Levi’s fully clothed body.

Now free of any obstacles, the man slotted his body against yours again. His hand wandered to your breasts and thumbed the sensitive skin. A tingly shock of pleasure shot down to your core. Your body welcomed the soft touches after the grueling torment. Though, your brain screamed for him to leave you be.

“I like you like this,” His hand traveled down to your stomach, eyeing how it jumped, “belly up, submissive, pliant.”

Finally, a whimper broke loose.

Those silver irises bounced up at you. He said nothing to your noises, if anything he welcomed it. You would be screaming soon enough.

Impatient to start and to finish your punishment, the man lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ever growing pile. He dropped his pants as well, no underwear under his slacks.

Tilting down your chin, your eyes widen at his cock. He wasn’t huge, but his size wasn’t anything to scoff at. What he lost in length, he made up in girth. The head slightly bigger, a deep red and drooling with pre-cum. Levi was also well groomed, not bare, but the hair trimmed close to the skin.

His physique could be god-like. You knew the man had muscles rippled through him, but not to this extent. He obviously worked out and trained his body as every inch the muscles flexed under his pale flesh. A dark happy trail led down to his cock.

Wandering downwards, his fingertips dipped in to brush against your clit. Your hips jumped.

“Sensitive.”

“Fuck you,” You spoke through bared teeth.

A yelp escaped. He slapped your pussy with little regard for you. When you squirmed away, he did it again, hitting right on your clit.

“You either moan or keep your shitty mouth shut.”

Scowling, you reluctantly obeyed. He hummed, soothed. For now. Going back to his previous action, his middle finger swirled against your clit. The nerves were swollen. Sensitive from his slaps. Your thighs twitched, begging to close. So confused on whether or not to welcome the pleasure.

A soft moan hung in the air. You weren’t supposed to enjoy this, but you were also scared of kicking up a fuss. The thought of him tearing into your pussy with no prep horrified you. You can fight another day, another time where it’s smart to.

Skillfully, Levi drifted down to your hole and pushed a finger in. A more drawn out moan came from your throat. More antsy than before, Levi added another finger, eager to stretch you out. As he pumped in and out of you, more wetness dripped out of your cunt onto the floor.

Deeming you stretched enough, he departed from your core with squelch. Unwantingly, you let out a disappointed whine.

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re lucky I even prepped you, fucking bitch in heat.”

Cock in hand, Levi positioned it at your pussy. You tensed as he bullied his way into your tight hole. Fuck, he did not prepare you enough. Your hips tried to arch away, but a strong hand forced you back down. Popping the whole cockhead in, you whimpered in pain.

Using both his hand and hips, he went further in. Your walls forcefully stretched to accommodate him. Thrusting deep, Levi pressed himself to the hilt. The hair of his happy trail tickled your clit. It offered no help to being stretched open past your limitations.

With fervor, he pulled out of you until it was only his head inside and slammed back in you. A gasp caught in your throat. Moving his hands to the ropes around your thighs, he used them as reins to fuck deeper and harder.

No regard for your own pleasure, Levi kept fucking into you so his pelvis bone smooshed into your thighs. Great, even more bruises. With all the shaking, your head started to pound and your vision blur. Each pound into your aching pussy, grunts poured from his mouth.

Shifting his hips upwards, he hit the spongy spot deep inside of you, eliciting a breathy whimper. Glancing at you, Levi kept his hips at that angle. He went back to how his cock drove in and out of your cunt. Fascinated by it wrapping and stretching around his length. He wanted to morph your walls into the shape of it, completely break you down.

“F-fuck,” Levi groaned.

Using you nothing more than a cocksleeve and seeing you finally settle the fuck down pulled him towards his release. Jerking the reins tighter, the rope pinched your thighs. Mouth slightly agape, his rhythm became sloppy, no longer caring for bringing you any type of enjoyment out of this.

Shortly, he shoved his cock deep. You screeched as he pushed against your cervix, a shiver going up your spine at the pain. That did him in. Dropping his head, he moaned and shot his hot release deep inside you.

You panted alongside him, completely unsatisfied. Delirious, you whined with teary eyes at not cumming.

Glaring at you from under his brows, Levi bit, “Are you that stupid? You think after everything you pulled I would nice to you.” He grabbed your jaw and curled you further in, your shoulders creaking, “You’re nothing more than a pet, a dog for me to beat until Erwin eventually gets bored of you. For both of us, you better hope it's soon.”

Half comprehending what he said, tears poured down and your eyes lost their focus. Slipping out of you, the warm cum dripped from your aching cunny and onto the floor.

Levi walked away from you to what you assumed was to clean up. Lulling your head back, you looked at the room upside down, letting the blood rush to your brain. From your blackening view, Levi came back to you.

He muttered something, but it didn’t matter. The world spinning around you was too much fun. Slipping your eyes closed, you let the fuzzy feelings of your concussed head overtake you. You really hope you are concussed and you passing out prompts you never waking up in this nightmare again. For the both of you.

[drefear]

The Lonely (Christina Perri)

Miguel X Reader

TW: drinking: getting drunk, implied smut, a lot of angst and sad feels

A/N: Y'all. the sad/angsty feels are wild rn. This can be read as a part two to Distance, or alone.

“2 a.m., where do I begin?

Crying off my face again”

The small pat of your bare footsteps against the hardwood floor of your apartment was barely audible as you snuck out of your own bedroom to your kitchen. Just a glass of water, that’s all you wanted, you told yourself. 

Really, you needed a second to clear your head, to not have Miguel’s arm draped over your body and suffocating your mind. You’d been going crazy recently, and you could barely function without thinking about him constantly. 

His beautiful presence was everywhere in your life. His scent was soaked into your sheets, his dominating personality was all anyone even spoke about in the Society, and when he wasn’t being spoken about or sleeping in your bed, he was buried deep within you and kissing the column of your throat. 

As you sipped the cool liquid, your eyes closed and you felt yourself get completely overwhelmed. You were drowning in your love for Miguel O’Hara. Tears streamed down your cheeks and onto his shirt that you had claimed as pajamas for the night. Resting the cup down on the countertop, you tried to catch your breath in between quiet sobs, completely unaware of Miguel listening and feeling his heart break from the other room. 

"The silent sound of loneliness

Wants to follow me to bed"

You slipped back under the covers and cuddled into him closer, but instead of holding you tight and refusing to let go like he normally did, he turned onto his other side and gave you his broad back. You didn’t think much of it, assuming he was still sound asleep, and tucked yourself into a comfortable position. 

"I'm a ghost of a girl that I want to be most

I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well"

Miguel watched you become a stranger, pushing you away after that night. He distanced himself to avoid breaking your heart even more than he already had, not wanting to be the reason you cried anymore. 

His chest felt like it would concave into itself if he spent one more day avoiding eye contact with you, one more day without holding those perfect hips and kissing those rosy cheeks. He felt like without you, he was dying, but he’d rather die than hurt you. 

"Dancing slowly in an empty room

Can the lonely take the place of you?"

You were lost. Had you done something wrong? You almost always ended up having him follow you home and sleep over that night, sharing passion and fire with one another after a lost, frustrating day of saving the multiverse. 

But recently, he’d completely ignored you. He’d barely grunt a hello at work, then not even answering your texts and finally giving you back the spare key you had given him when you started this unspoken arrangement. You found it in your locker during some basically training and working out, feeling as if you’d actually gotten sucker punched in the stomach at the very sight. 

What had you done? 

"I sing myself a quiet lullaby

Let you go and let the lonely in to take my heart again"

Days became weeks, and you began spiraling into curiosity. You’d asked Lyla what was going on with Miguel, and she always answered with a shrug. 

But now she’d said something that made your skin crawl. 

He was seeing someone. 

And that’s how you ended up wondering your own apartment in sweat pants and a too-big band shirt. Hair a mess, mascara streaks down your face, you laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, feeling a numbness take presidency over your heart. The world felt cold to you, almost bitter as a tingle ran through your muscles. It was like you weren’t in your body anymore as you put pieces together. 

You two weren’t together, he didn’t owe you anything and vice versa, but it would have been nice to hear it from him instead of his AI assistant. 

"Too afraid to go inside

For the pain of one more loveless night"

This made you finally stop reporting to the Society, giving your watch to Ben and staying home. You abandoned your duties as Spider-woman, deciding to leave everything that reminded you of Miguel behind. There were plenty of other super heroes, they could handle it. You just wanted to float in space, not having to feel the emotions you have been stranded with. 

"But the loneliness will stay with me

And hold me 'til I fall asleep"

More time passed as you refused to leave your apartment, hugging your knees as you shook from your sobs. You were heartbroken, your bedsheets still smelling like his cologne and musk. You couldn’t eat or sleep, you could barely shower, everything felt wrong. 

"I'm the ghost of a girl that I want to be most

I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well"

One night, after doing your constant crying like you’d been doing for a few weeks now, you saw yourself in the mirror and actually jumped a little. You didn’t recognize yourself, dark bags under your red, glassy eyes, face completely chapped and flustered from crying so much, lips bitten and a little bloody from trying to stifle the painful whimpers. 

You were a stranger to yourself now. 

"Dancing slowly in an empty room

Can the lonely take the place of you?"

You began to start playing music as you cried, trying not to drown in your sorrows. One night, you’d decided to go out and try to be in the world again. At a bar, the jukebox played love songs over and over, prompting you to throw back many shots as you wanted to cloud the music from your ears. It was a terrible idea, you knew, but you couldn’t help it after how much you’d missed him. 

This drunk state caused you to end up dancing alone at closing and being gently escorted out of the bar, then walking home. Entering your quaint little apartment was the saddest feeling you’d felt in a long time. 

You’d been so heartbroken that you went out and got drunk by yourself. What had gotten into you? But the truth was, you didn’t completely mind because the alcohol made you at least think less.

"I sing myself a quiet lullaby

Let you go and let the lonely in

To take my heart again"

Music flowed throughout your place as you found more comfort in a bottle of red wine. Spinning, you mumbled the words and took a large swig of the contents. A knock on your door made you wobble to answer it and swinging it open, you were greeted with a confused but familiar face. 

The pregnant spider woman stood opposite from you. As you tilted your head and asked about her coming here, she just scanned you and understood your drunken state a bit more. 

"Broken pieces of a barely breathing story"

Jess sat you down and tried taking the bottle from your grasp, but you were fast and chugged the rest of its liquid. Laying back on your couch, you stared at that same ceiling you’d gazed at after finding out the painful truth from Lula, your eyes filling once more and bursting out frantically. Jess’s hand rubbed your back as you babbled about your feelings, barely coherent as you drunkenly cried to her. The next morning was almost as painful as the previous night, as you tossed up the contents of your evening into your toilet while Jess held your hair. She clarified that everyone was worried about you, and that your presence was missed at the Society. You shook your head, saying you were no longer who you once were. 

She left soon after, leaving behind a certain gizmo and asking you to rethink it. 

"Where there once was love

Now there's only me and the lonely"

You played out in your bed, still breathing in the lingering smell of Miguel on your pillow, and crying once more. This time, though, you screamed out loudly and let yourself wail without holding anything back or numbing the pain. You clutched that pillow to your chest as you soaked it, black makeup rubbing into the material as you shoved your face into the cushion. 

"Dancing slowly in an empty room

Can the lonely take the place of you?

I sing myself a quiet lullaby

Let you go and let the lonely in

To take my heart again"

The lonesome nights were never the same, until a familiar tap at your window made you jerk up. You shifted, finally thinking you might have lost your mind and we’re hallucinating until you saw a shadow at your fire escape. Opening it up, you saw the hulking figure of the man you’d let in so many times before. 

Your eyes scanned him over, and his did the same. You looked so tired, so drained, and he hated the sight of you this way. He climbed through your window and into your apartment, towering over you and watching you carefully, unsure of how you’ll react. 

You let out a breathy whimper and he couldn’t control himself anymore, his arms reaching out and pulling you to him, practically crushing you into his chest as you let out the pain and cried without hesitation. Hearing your upset that he had caused by pushing you away, lying to Lyla and making you want to leave, he fell to his knees and buried his face into the soft plush of your tummy, your arms wrapping around his head and pulling him into you. He gripped your biceps and spoke with a shaky voice. 

“I’m so sorry…”

@liz96893

[blazingstar29]

Top Gun Workouts - Slider

Everyone’s favourite [living] RIO

Disclaimer: I’m not a PT. In this series i break down characters muscle composition and how i think they’d exercise, if this may trigger you feel free to enjoy my other general shit posting!

Find the rest of the series under #top gun workouts :) So far there’s Mav and Ice

Slider is is also very interesting in his muscular make up. He’s tall, about 6’2 (?) and this DOES matter but not how you think and it’s something I’ll get into in more detail with Goose. Also keep in mind a lot of shirtless photos of Slider are during the volleyball scene so the actors will be in peak physique and probably have done some exercise before shooting to give themselves a ‘pump’.

I know forearms are a big deal for some of y’all and you’re right to be obsessed with them. Hold out out your arm in front of you as if you’re reaching for something. Does your for arm flex like Slider’s? Some might, some won’t. But for the hollow above the inside of your elbow to appear at the same time as the muscle at the top of your forearm (the sort facing the ceiling) that’s actually very impressive. It’s a combination of low body fat and muscle.

Sir, put them pits away. It’s pretty blurry but the concave of the arm pit, huge lateral bulge, front deltoid and shoulder are flexed here but even so, that doesn’t appear by itself.

Slider’s got a low body fat. Flexed on the left and relaxed on the right you can see his muscling pretty clear. Like with Maverick, we see those obliques. Unlike Mav, Slider’s got a slightly narrower waist. And those boulder shoulders are ginormous, well done Rick. His traps aren’t super big which makes sense when we look at his legs in a minute.

Everyone say thank you Rick for the effort he put in flying into sand and those arms. Full, well defined shoulders, good biceps and impeccable triceps. Yes flexed, no less impressive. Rick knows what hes doing in the gym. In the bottom photo you see those lats and scapular being flexed which shows us the muscle composition nicely. But like everyone, there’s thing that he didn’t focus on as much.

Slider please work on your legs. I’m kidding but it’s interesting to see that he’s got lean legs but next to know muscling. I have a theory for this but it’s more applicable to Goose so I’ll go into detail there with him. Something I’m noticing about the cast is that they don’t have huge chests. Like, these dudes are pretty built but they’re chests aren’t. Especially if you take a look at these guys either side of Goose.

Probably the typical 80’s lads. Beefier and more built chests. Perhaps there was a focus for the cast to have big stereotypical dude arms? I feel mean calling picking a part their lack of muscling in some areas but there is very few pectoral muscles on stand out in the cast. Hollywood and Ice perhaps being the only ones. Maybe a creative choice for the cast to focus on the ‘hotter’ parts of their body but also may have been a fitness trend in then80’s?

I hate to say it but the tag “Ron Slider Kener’s tits” isn’t…I’m sorry guys but these are not certified jugs im SORRY (I’m kidding, use that tag it’s hilarious and i love it)

Now onto what sort of exercise Slider would do? I have some ideas and a lot of them are built around this.

Slider you are a show OFF. This is a body building pose if I’m not mistake. He’s doing the vacuum stomach to flex his abs and angling his arms to show them off. Body building is time consuming and requires a certain diet so I don’t think Slider would be purposefully training whilst, I think he may have dabbled in it during College where he had a bit more freedom. Regardless he puts a lot into his physique.

Further more:

That’s an ankle wrap, now this might just be ankle support for beach volleyball but let me tell you something. If you’ve sprained your ankle badly, and I mean badly, that shit fucks you up for life if you don’t rehab it right. Now again, this may just be for support because both Ice and Slider have the same wrap on the same foot, but taking into account Slider’s lack of muscle on his legs, there’s a potential injury there. Which if you ever need to shunt Slider away out of a story, it’s a good option lmao (guilty as charged.)

If he’s not deadlifting then that may contribute to not having huge trapezoids. For how built his shoulders are I expected them to be bigger. I understood with Ice because his overall physique is just different but Slider confuses me.

Okay, now the actual exercises:

Back, bi’s and tri’s BABY. Over and over and over. They are his pride and joy.

Wide grip bicep barbell curls, hammer curls, arnold press, lateral raises. Tricep dips, tricep cable extensions. Anything and everything.

Rowing, either on the water or on a rowing machine. It takes the weight off his ankle. Potentially cycling too but he’d likely have bigger calves.

[he-goes-down]

There was a time:

Previous chapters/ warnings

A/N: this took like 3 weeks to finish, its longer than the other ones and at some points im just out of it so bear with me 🙏 (also additional rockstars, gifs at the end too) I also got too tired to keep changing povs

8. Look At Your Game Girl:

Second person pov:

It was soon Christmas Day, there was no big celebration or party as it was all leading up to a big New Year’s house party at one of Slash’s friends place in the hills. At least your Christmas day wasn’t horrible, everyone contributed to presents, even Axl as he was meant to go to Erin’s, but they were on a break. He wasn’t fazed and from you talking to her on the phone she was glad that they were taking a break. (She then told in secret that she met this new guy just as a fling and to not tell Axl as he would be furious.) But of course, when Axl goes onto other girls on break or not on break his girl shouldn’t care or complain. Axl’s present to you was a very fancy spoon that he stole from some old rich lady’s house, in return you gave him a red bandana. He was confused, but he tried it on, and he never took it off for the rest of the day, you brought him his iconic style. Slash gave you a ‘world’s best dad mug’ but scratched it out with a sharpie and said manager but written as ‘MAnGre’. Duff had given you a tea pot that he made in a pottery class he tried once when he was drunk out of his mind, but he said that his mind was on you when he was making it and put a lot of effort into it. It was slightly lobsided and concave in certain sections but the patterns and colours he used were very pretty. Steven gave you a cute keychain and said he’d share some of is coke with you later. Izzy, which was surprising, gave you a vinyl of one of your favourite albums from a more underground band from the 70’s. You had only mentioned the band a few times, but it wasn’t ever directed in conversations you had, or the little conversations you had. 

It was soon New Year’s Eve, Izzy and Duff went out to get some booze for the party and just fuck around town a bit, Axl was out somewhere unknown. Getting laid, getting arrested, picking fights, getting arrested for picking fights, doing unknown drugs, getting arrested for being in possession of said drugs, getting laid again. You pick. You, Slash and Steven were the only ones in the house. The Golden Trio. You were looking through your outfits to find a good one to wear to the party. You planned to get some tonight, or maybe at the minimum get a new year’s kiss and a fling because being tied to these gorgeous men and not being able to be with any of them was taking a slight toll on you. “Slash get in here!” You shouted throughout the house from your shared room. “Hmm?” He quirked as he slid into the doorway. “Pick one.” You held up two dresses. A short red cocktail dress, and a long black slit dress, both of which had small dainty straps to hold it up on your shoulders and the hanger. “Shit, I’d love to see you in the red one.” He smirked, ‘see’ meaning ‘fuck’. “Yeah, yeah whatever. But it doesn’t match the jacket, and I don’t want anything down there to freeze off.” You spoke. “I’ll keep you warm.” He flirted. You rolled his eyes, he always put in a dirty joke when he could. “Stevie! Get in here I need a second opinion instead of this buffoon.” You called out to him. Soon he walked into the room and stood next to Slash. He looked at the options in one quick look. “Red one. Red one. Please.” He repeated. You gave him a look. “Fine, the black one.” He groaned a fake groan. “Thank you.” You replied. “NOOOOO!” Slash started to have a fake tantrum begging for you to change your mind. You put the dress back and hang the black one on the doorknob. “Wait you know actually…” You spoke to yourself and swapped the dresses places. The red one now hanging on the doorknob to the cupboard. “Slash can I use your leather jacket? You know the one that’s slightly brown and bleached. The one that should stink like shit but doesn’t.” You told him. He basically ran to get it and bowed in front of you with it. “Madam.” He spoke. “Okay, get out I need to change.” You told them. 

You got to the living room with your outfit on and some light makeup, they both wolf whistled at the same time. They were like your personal hype men. “You know the party isn’t for a few hours though?” Steven said. “Yeah.” You spoke. “I thought I could go scout out someone to go with to the party.” You explained. “Speed dating!” Steven exclaimed. Slash whipped his head to face Steven. They started to have a telepathic conversation. You were quite confused, but they soon explained that they’ll come with you on this trip and select guys they know to have a little date with you at a bar. You didn’t object, this would be a fun experience. You didn’t necessarily trust their judgement, but you trusted them enough that they wouldn’t introduce you to a serial killer. You headed to one of the more upstaged bar in town and made your seating on one the stools while Slash and Steven sat in a booth nearby. Slash went out to the phone next to the bar and called up someone. This happened a few times as the people weren’t really your type, (They hadn’t showered in months), or you just didn’t feel a spark between you two, (One guy got his feet out and asked you to massage them.). You sat down with an exasperated sigh at Slash and Steven’s booth. They were trying to think of another guy to call up. “Okay, next one I don’t care who. I’ll settle with. I’ve had enough of this.”  You said as you ran your hands through your hair in a way to prepare for the next man.  “Come on look at your game girl. We have to get you the right man.” Slash said. “You haven’t been very good at it.” You rolled your eyes, “What about musicians? You really know how to make their heels spin.” Slash suggested.  “Fine, but no bass players.” You warned. “What a shame, because Duff-…” Slash started but Steven nudged him in the stomach with his elbow. Slash began to cough up utters and uncertainties. “Because- uh,” he coughed, “He knows a lot of other sexy players, yeah, yeah.” He finished nervously. Steven facepalmed and laid his head on the table in defeat. “I wouldn’t mind having a date with Duff.” You said nonchalantly, as you took a sip of your second margarita. “YOU WHAT!?” They both howled in unison. “What, I’m just saying he’s fine.” You replied, “So, so fine.” You added. He was absolutely gorgeous, and him being a sweetheart and taller than a skyscraper added a lot more to the appeal. Thinking about Duff made you start thinking about Axl again. ‘Shit.’ You thought, you needed advice. “Changing the topic, I need help. There is this… one guy that I like. It’s a bit complicated.” You began. They were all ears. “So, we kissed, but then the next week he got a gf, but now they’re broken up and I don’t know what to do.” You explained. Slash was trying to think who it would be, but Steven got it immediately and his jaw was on the floor. “Nuh uh, nuh uh. Stay away from A-… That man.” Steven protested. “A… A…” Slash thought and repeated. Then the biggest gasp came out his body. “AXL!?” “SHHHHHHH” you put your hand on his mouth and shushed him. “When? What? WHY?” He started again after you parted your hand from his mouth. “I thought that broke your no dating rule?” Steven enquired. “That’s why I don’t know what to do!” You said. Slash put his hand on your shoulder and put on a serious face. Silence. “Do not. Go for. That ginger.” Slash said slowly. He was vouching for Duff but also being serious. Axl and dating didn’t always go good together. You guys talked more about it and ended on a, ‘Don’t speak to him unless spoken too.’ And ‘Try ignore him as much as possible, without making him lose his shit.’

You decided against continuing with Slash and Steven’s horrible suitors, even after Slash was begging you to try ‘this one guy’ he had in mind, you’d rather just get laid at the party than prebook someone at this point. It was about 9pm when you, Slash and Steven got there. It was a huge house that could probably fit the whole population of a micro country in it. Most of the people were guys from rock bands that are just forming and deputing. All the girls there were gorgeous but were getting their face eaten by some scum looking man. A song from Def Leppard’s ‘Pyromania’ album was playing as you walked in - you actually worked with them on it, but you were a manager in training -. Slash scattered, either looking for girls, booze or Duff. You and Steven began to slowly take in your surroundings. “Y/N? Is that you?” You heard a familiar voice, and all of a sudden you felt someone wrap their arms around you from behind and pick you up. You yelped in surprise and confusion. You looked back to see Richie. Richie Sambora, guitarist of Bon Jovi, and the familiar voice approached you from the front. The man of the hour, Jon Bon fucking Jovi. “Richie put her down!” Jon laughed. If your past-self wasn’t the one in full control you would have thrown yourself at him with no second thought. JON BON FUCKING JOVI. He put you down and smiled a greeting, and you did the same. Jon came to you and gave you a bear hug. “God, I missed you. How have you been?” He asked excitedly. “I’m doing okay.” You smiled and spoke as Richie leaned on your shoulder. “How are you and the rest doing? I haven’t had time to listen to your new record, I’m glad one of had the backbone to talk to management and get it out this early.” You spoke. “We’re doing great, the album’s really making us some money.” Jon replied. Steven whispered a soft “Who the fuck are these guys?” In your ear. You explained how you co-managed with some idiot on their first album back in 83’ and started going over silly stories about the tour. Steven and You soon started to talk about you going to manage Guns ‘n Roses, Richie said it was a ‘kickass name’. After a few topic changes, you began to wonder. “Hey, is David here tonight?” You asked as you tapped Jon the shoulder.  “I knew you’d ask that.” He replied. “Who?” Steven enquired. “Oh? So, you haven’t told them about your past dating life?” He raised his eyebrow with a smug smile. You rolled your eyes. “Why didn’t you bring this up at our gossip sessions!?” Steven was flabbergasted. “Yeah, N/N why didn’t you?” Richie teased. “Just tell me where he is.” You crossed your arms. “Over there somewhere.” Jon chuckled as he pointed. “Just don’t get too close! He might pounce on you when he sees you wearing that!” Richie yelled and teased as you began walking away. You and David were dating whilst you managed for Bon Jovi, which broke your first cardinal rule with bands, but it wasn’t established back then. Your relationship was great but had to fall out as your co manager thought it unruly and kicked you out simply for being a girl in the industry. The guys were furious as you did all the work and he mostly just sat back, and chain smoked all day. In the crowd of people, you saw a tall figure with jagged long hair, and everyone around him was laughing as he made jokes. David Bryan. 

Slash’s POV:

I had finally found Duff after making a few detours to get booze. He was in one of the corners by a useless arch in the middle of the room. “Hey dude.” I greeted to him and gave him a beer I bought with. “What we lookin’ at?” I asked. His eyes were focused on a particular point of the room. “That guy Y/N’s with.” Duff said, his eyes laser focused on the two. “Her and Stevie were talking to the guys over there. Well after one of them picked her up.” He said in a very serious tone as he pointed to where Steven was, talking to two other guys; one with dark long hair and bangs, and another; taller, lighter brown hair which was longer and puffier, and a crazy jawline. “Then she went to that guy after one of them pointed him out.” Duff was going all out detective on me. He was back to scanning and deciphering every little movement of her and this guy. He’s tall, about same height as Duff. But he seems funnier as she’s laughing and giggling at everything he’s saying. I took a swig of my drink looking around the party for some hot girls to pull, I was getting a bit tired of just looking at the two of them flirt with one another. I took a quick glance at Duff, and he was slowly and dramatically turning his head to face me. His mouth a gape. Once he did a full 90 degree he stopped. “Is that your jacket?” He spoke. “She asked for it!” I jumped to the defensive. Duff wouldn’t be mad at me but god, he could whoop my ass if I did something out of line. He could be a real mom sometimes.

-

“I need you to do a job for me.” I started to speak. “See that girl over there.” I pointed. He nodded in response. “Break the bitch’s heart. Somehow. I don’t care, just do it.” I finished and slipped him five dollars, and we began to make our way through the crowd. 

-

Second Person POV:

You and David were catching up on what has been happening these past years. Reminiscing on the memories when you were an item. Your stomach started to hurt as you were laughing your ass off with him. “Where’d you get this jacket?” He asked and started to play the material on the shoulder and slowly worked his way to play with the ends of your hair. You didn’t mind the occasional flirt he slipped in with you. You did that same. After you two broke up you knew that you wouldn’t get back together and it was a thing of the present, but flirting and going further weren’t necessarily off the table. “I borrowed it from Slash. He’s probably somewhere over there. You craned your neck to search over the crowd of people. “What do you date superheroes now? What kind of name is that?” He joked. You rolled your eyes. “What kind of basic name is David?” You gave him a look. “Touché.” He said. “For your information we’re not dating. He’s the lead guitarist of a band I’m managing.” You explained. You looked into the pool of people again, “Oh, he’s coming over here right now.” You said with surprise. “He’s the one with similar hair to you, before your straightened it and whatever that thing on your head is.” You teased. “Hey! Be nice!” He fought back and chuckled. Slash soon made it to the two of you in a rush. “Hey! Hey! Can I have my jacket back?” He asked frantically. “Yeah sure. It’s getting hot in here anyway.” You smiled. Unzipping the jacket, taking it off and handing it to him. “Thanks.” He replied and went back into the crowd again in a quick movement. “Woah…” David said. His hand placed on your forearm and the other hovering over your waist, but further away into the air. He eyed you up and down with his blue eyes. “Shit, you’re still smoking… Even more if that’s possible. Damn.” He lavished in your being. You blushed, it burned your cheeks. You kept plating off jokes to try calm down the hellfire that was riding on your skin.

“I’m gonna go get more drinks, you want?” You asked. “Yes, thanks doll.” He side hugged you. “Be back soon.” He said, and began to start a conversation with the people he was previously talking to. You made your way to one of the walls were drinks were served, it was surprisingly not that crowded, most of the people just came there to get stuff and got to their corners. You poured the unknown mixture of booze in two red solo cups, and as you were about to depart from the alcohol station you were surprised the person you were suggested not to interact with. Axl. “Who was that guy you were talking to you?” He didn’t look aggravated or any kind or indication that he was. What was he planning? Why talk to you now? Now in such a casual way? You weren’t that close anymore. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?” You didn’t care if you were seen as bitter and petty, you wanted him to know that what he did still bothered you, even if he was too thick to know what it was. He got annoyed at that response, but not at you, at David, and started to cuss him out. With disses like, ‘Oh what the fuck is that haircut.’ Or going off about his height. You just rolled your eyes and took sips of your drink not really listening to his rambling. But the last parts caught your attention, saying how ‘he knows a guy’ that is better than David and is more meant for you and how ‘look at you game girl’ because you deserved someone better instead of ‘Flirting with some rando at a party.’ You decided to respond to his drunken nonsense. “Oh? And who would that be?” You couldn’t believe a word out of his face. This wasn’t the Axl you knew, trying to set you up with someone else, you were going to call it and guess he was talking about himself.  “Let me get him. Hold on babe.” He said, and he stepped back slightly to look for this mystery man. Now you were intrigued. Will his taste be better than Slash and Stevens? Maybe this was some plot to make it seem better that he hurt you. Maybe he knew that other people in his life have feelings too. Finally, he might have realised that. But he quickly returned with another man next to him; a taller man, same height as Duff and David, long blonde hair. Absolutely charismatic by just his looks. “This is-…” “Seb!?” You cut Axl off. You handed your drinks to Axl and he confusedly took them and you jumped into the tall man’s arms for a hug. “Shit it actually is you!” He responded excitedly. Sebastian Bach, another one of your former partners. Not Bach like the composer from the 1700s. But like the guy that played Gil in Gilmore Girls. His large hands placed on both your forearms as he looked you up and down, only having a vague impression on what he was thinking. “That’s fucking radical man! Thanks Ax!” Sebastian said as he hit Axl on the forearm, but Axl being dazed and confused and Sebastian being slightly drunk and not knowing his own strength, threw the drinks slightly out of his hand and it spilled a bit. “Uh… you’re welcome.” Axl responded. “Ax how did you and Baz meet? I didn’t know you were literally friends with everyone” You directed to last part to Seb. You were too tipsy and too excited to show off and frustration towards Axl, and it was making your blood pump now that Axl is a similar situation like you were with Erin. “Here’s your money back dude.” Sebastian gave him five dollars but he hesitantly took it as he was still shocked and confused. You looked at both of them back and forth, puzzled, but before you could ask questions David appeared from the wall of people. “Hey! I was wondering what was taking you so long.” He said with a smile as he approached. Then he proceeded to do a fake dramatized scene saying things along the lines ‘You left me to take to other guys’ but he was just joking around and he chuckled softly.

You, David and Sebastian were having a good time, tossing jokes and stories left right and centre. Axl had left, with a generic excuse, or he didn’t? You couldn’t remember, you didn’t really care. Before he left it was quite funny to see him surrounded by your two over 6-foot ex boyfriends towering over him as they casually talked and he just stood there. Finally, he wasn’t the big and intimidating one in the picture. “Oh, my fucking god...” You heard a loud huff from someone. It was Steven. “Your- your. Friend Jon oggly boogly, whatever the fuck his name is- He’s so jacked at beer pong. You need to see this.” He said as he panted excitedly. You all followed Steven to a pool table surrounded by people, there were red cups lined up on the table in strange patterns, and all the pool balls were lined up on one of the sides. Jon was the only one of that side, holding a pool stick in hand, getting ready to hit the ball closest to him. He hit it and it landed in one of the cups, people cheered, then he did a chain of hitting a ball, then hitting another and another, all in a line, and they all landed in respective cups. People cheered and applauded. David was one of the loudest ones, and went over to congratulate him. You and Sebastian did too, but David and Baz were much louder and energetic, even though Sebastian had never met him. That’s just the kind of guy he was; all in for the action. Sebastian soon joined you, as you were spectating the scene. David and Jon were off bonding and David really tried to beat Jon at his epic party trick. You and Baz talked about this band he’s in and that he’s wrote a few songs about you, well it was already written, but it was fine-tuned, and then that sparked new songs to be written.

Meanwhile, Steven was on his way to relay some information he had found out to his buddy Slash.

“Slash! Slash! Slash!” Steven yelled and panted as he got to Slash. Duff was next to him chatting but they both stop talking and looked at Steven. Steven the whispered things in Slash’s ear, but that didn’t help as Slash repeated what he said in a yell. “She’s fucked them before!?” He yelled but Steven covered his mouth and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. “Who now?” Duff asked. “Those two guys over there, were in another band she worked with.” Steven explained in a calm voice to Slash. “And. Don’t go crazy. Those two. Are her ex boyfriends.” Steven said and there was a pause as he took his hand away from Slash’s mouth. Silence. Slash’s mouth was a gape. “And she didn’t tell us!?” He yelled. Steven rolled his eyes at Slash screaming. “That’s what I’m saying!” Steven joined in but not as loud as Slash. “What the hell are you guys on about?” Duff asked. Slash and Steven looked at each other with grimaces. “It doesn’t matter.” They said in unison. They didn’t want Duff to worry about his ‘little’ crush. “Slash have you told Duff what Y/n said today?” Steven asked, just remembering what she said about him. “OH SHIT NO!” he yelled excitedly and turned to Duff to debrief the situation.

While that was being discussed you and Sebastian were getting slightly bored on the other side of the room watching other people getting hammered. 

He suggested to go explore this mansion this party was being held in and you easily agreed. You wandered around each hallway and floor. You had hold Seb back physically when you two came into the garage and he saw all the fancy cars standing there. He did somehow manage to get keys to one of the cars and began to drive it in the humongous garage. He did however instantly stop as he nearly drove into the garage door. You two searched through the rest of the floors and rooms. They were all virtually deserted as most people were outside on one the main floor. You then came across an at home movie theatre and put on some nonsensical movie and just shouted at the screen. Seb also ran through the aisles and played hide and seek with you, sometime parkouring his way over the seats. But he was too tall, and his long blonde hair was easy catch on the eye in the dark. “Oh shit, hide!” You heard him whisper shout. You had just caught him jumping from one aisle to another, but he grabbed your arm and took you with him to the ground. Someone had opened the door the theatre. You stayed in silence for a bit on the floor, looking at each other, but the more you looked into each other’s eyes the more you just wanted to laugh. The Movie had been switched off and you heard footsteps coming closer. It then stopped. And then got quieter, heading to the door and the out of the room. There was a pause as you looked into each other’s eyes. Your faces so close together. His breath on yours. Your faces drawing closer. Both of you started to burst out laughing.

After crying and laughing on the floor you got up and began exploring more. This time it was you having to hide, and Sebastian had to find you. It was nearly midnight at this point, and you were close enough to the main aide of the party to hear that they were playing Van Halen. You were hiding in one of the rooms in the corridor that lead to the main party area.  Seb was peaking in the room next to where you were. You sneakily opened to door, you looked to where he was. Most of his body past the door and his head not visible as he was peering into the room next to yours. You tiptoed away from the room you were in and then began to run down the hallway. But Seb was quick to be on your tail. You both laughed as you were running. You were soon met with the end of the hallway, it did turn to the right and followed down, but you didn’t calculate that and so now you were against the wall just look at Seb run towards you. It did make you laugh harder as he was so close to you but then tripped over his own feet. His hand landed on either side of you on the wall as he tried to catch himself. The laughter stopped and he looked up at you after having a small pause to look down at the position he was in. Looking into each other’s eyes again. The world around you started to fade away. Getting butterflies again. This was just like how it was whne you dated before, and he was even more gorgeous. His hazel eyes starring into yours, his taller figure moving closer to your smaller one. Your faces getting closer. Lips tingling. Warm breaths mingling. He looked at your lips then back into your eyes, asking for permission. You nodded and his lips drew closer to yours. Painstakingly slow. You softly closed your eyes, waiting for the familiar feel of his kiss. Bout it was quickly stopped as both of you shot your heads to the side at the sound of one of the doors opening revealing a random man. He looked at you two and you looked back. He was only in his underwear and a tie around his neck and had a gullible look on his face. He took the tie off his neck and put it on the doorknob, and quietly but quickly going back into the room and closing the door. You both you looked back at each other in slow motion and then broke down in the laughter for the hundredth time today. You didn’t finish what you two started but went down the other corridor towards the party. 

On the other side of the party Slash, Steven and Duff were in deep conversation. “And then! And then! Get this.” Slash spoke. “She said, ‘I’m just saying he’s fine’! and then said, ‘so, so fine.’! YOU HAVE CHANCE MY BROTHER.” He continued. “Are you sure? Like sure, sure?” Duff asked. “Yes man. I was there too!” Steven piped in. “Look she’s over there. If you’re close enough now you can get a new year’s kiss.” Slash said to Duff with a scheming expression on his face. “Yeah, but look, that guy is talking to her.” Duff pointed out. You and Sebastian were standing on the other side of the room, closet to the doors that lead to a big balcony where you basically see the rest of L.A. “Well, if you don’t do it. Then I’ll take that opportunity.” Slash said, eyeing you from a far. Duff gave him a death stare. That comment sent Duff to go make his move.

It was now a few seconds to midnight, people have started to count down. The song over the speakers was now ‘Why Can’t This Be Love’ by Van Halen. You and Sebastian were slowly swaying together to the song, looking at each other and looking out to the balcony where the lights of the city were scattered like stars. The countdown was now at 10 seconds. ‘10’ the crowd of people said in unison. Seb put his hand on your hip and pulled you closer him. ‘9’. Duff and the two others make their way through the crowd of people. ‘8’. You put your arms around Sebastian’s neck. ‘7’. Slash stopped to get a drink. ‘6’. Sebastian whispered a corny joke in your ear. ‘5’. You laughed and he held you closer. ‘4’. He whispered in your ear. ‘3’ what he said made your face burn hot. ‘2’ A random woman snatched Duff from the crowd and started to make out with him. ‘1’ Sebastian pulled you closer and kissed you. You quickly kissed him back. Your lips slowly crashing together and both of you trying to desperately get closer to each other. The fireworks in going off in the background made the spark between the two of you burn hotter. After finally letting go of each other, looking over to the sparks of colourful lights explode in the sky outside of the balcony. You two went closer to the doors to get a wider look at the landscape of L.A exploding with fireworks. Him holding you close by his one hand on your hip, whispering another innuendo in your ear, you agreed flirtatiously. As you were about to rush off to one of the bedrooms you were called by a familiar voice that resided from the balcony. Axl. ‘For fuck sake again?’ You thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin another hook up again. You excused yourself to Sebastian and he gladly waited for you. You walked to the balcony where Axl stood by the railing, as you were close enough, he began to speak. “Hey listen-…” He started but you cut him off. “No you listen here. I don’t know what sad fucking game you’re playing at, but leave me out of it.” You said to him sternly. There was a pause, he was shocked at the response and then began to retaliate. “I’m only tryna be a good friend and look out for you! No need to be a bitch!” He yelled back. You wanted to slap him off the railing so bad. “What friend? We haven’t been friends ever since you thought it was a good idea to leave me out to dry like I’m some sort of prostitute to you?” you said without skipping a beat. “Is this about Erin?” He asked with distain. “No, it’s not about fucking Erin. It’s about you. You dating her and not even a week after we kissed. Did that even matter to you? Do you even remember it? Or is your brain still attached to your dick like always.” You responded, all these emotions were about to make you cry. But you held back. You wanted him to be the one that cries. “Yeah but-…” He tried to retaliate but you shut his responses down quickly until he was a bumbling fool. “Just. Just shut up. I’m not going to let you ruin another night for me.” You said. You walked away from him mumbling the words ‘Fucking narcissist’, under your breathe as you left him standing on the balcony.

You got to Sebastian, and he took your hand leading to who knows which bedroom. Duff on the other hand had finally got that chick off him, and tried looking for you but when he caught a glimpse of you. Slash covered his eyes. He tried fighting Slash off but Slash didn’t want Duff to see you being lead off with some other guy to do you know what.

Richie Sambora(left), Jon Bon Jovi(right) From Bon Jovi

David Bryan From Bon jovi

Sebastian Bach from Skid Row

(Additional song)

[voxofthevoid]

Shibuya Swap Wednesday #11—yeah, we're still here. We'll continue to be here. I did finish Part 3; it's 108k and 19 chapters. The Kidnapping Fic is laughing at me.

Part 4 is currently on hold while I tackle that Yuuji/Yuuta fic, but it's fully outlined. That doesn't mean I know how long it'll be, but I think it's safe to say this fic will be dangerously close to 150k by the time I'm done.

For now, have Gojou getting his hole bullied.

Gojou’s spine ripples, a sharp concave arch followed by a shuddering fall.

Yuuji freezes, his fingers only centimeters away from Gojou’s hole. It wasn’t a very strong blow, just the tips of his fingers smacking the tightly clenched rim. But the angle’s weird, and the placement is…what it is, and Yuuji’s left with ice in his veins and his heart in his throat.

“Sensei?” he prods warily. “Was that too much?”

Gojou lets out a low laugh, and some more tension drains out of his back. His head is hung low, and from his position behind Gojou, all Yuuji can see is the back of his head—the pale fluff over the bristly undercut. The breadth of Gojou’s back takes up most of his vision—large shoulders tapering to a shockingly narrow waist, with thick muscles running into the oddly graceful dip of a spine.

Yuuji’s always known that bodies can be so very powerful, but it’s Gojou who’s making him realize just how beautiful they can be.

“Not at all,” Gojou says, amusement still thick in his voice. “I barely felt it. Try harder, little tiger.”

Yuuji’s gotta give it to him: It doesn’t sound like a lie. A few hours earlier, Yuuji would have easily believed him, despite remembering very well how Satoru talked and behaved. There’s still a line dividing the two in his head, and he does think it’s warranted. Ten years is a long time, right? Yuuji can’t imagine what he’d be like at twenty-five, let alone twenty-eight—if he even lives that long. But they’re both still Gojou Satoru, and Yuuji’s realizing that more and more with every minute he spends in his teacher’s bed.

And he knows Gojou’s lying.

“Okay,” Yuuji tells him. “I’ll do that.”

He flicks Gojou’s asshole, a single snapping motion without any restraint.

Gojou jolts like a kicked dog.

He’s still right after. Silent too. But Yuuji’s acutely aware of the weight to the silence and the stillness, and despite Gojou’s eyes facing the bed, Yuuji can feel them on him—like hot fingers on every inch of his body.

His cock likes the attention, which is a bit of a problem. But his cock likes all of this, from the fresh sweat beading on either side of Gojou’s spine to the almost shy way his pretty pink hole is clenching up. It’s like it’s winking at Yuuji—a tease or an invitation.

Or both, knowing Gojou.

Yuuji rubs the pad of his thumb over it, spreading Gojou a little wider with his free hand. His hole flutters with it, a tight little movement against Yuuji’s thumb. The little bit of hurt Yuuji inflicted on it doesn’t seem to have had much lasting impact. He’s not surprised. It’s Gojou. And Yuuji’s found out twice over that Gojou likes pain, but a man this strong must need a lot to really feel it. Yuuji can’t understand the exact appeal, but he knows the pleasure of exertion, of his pushing his body to breaking and feeling it heal stronger afterward, and he knows how that got harder and harder over the years as his strange strength increased with his age.

He thinks Gojou likes the same things Satoru liked, but maybe he needs them harsher, meaner.

Yuuji can do that. He’s already learned a lot about his own violent hunger.

He slowly traces Gojou’s rim with the edge of his thumbnail, charmed by how it clenches and unclenches the entire time. The rest of Gojou is tense too, even though Yuuji hasn’t done much. There’s an expectant air to it all.

Yuuji digs his nail into the tight furl of Gojou’s hole and drags it down, all the way to his taint.

Gojou whines.

Yuuji grips Gojou’s ass harder so he won’t reach down and start jerking off.

“Felt that, sensei?” he asks, mostly to distract himself from the thrumming memory of that noise and the inviting pink of Gojou’s hole.

Gojou laughs again, except it sounds nothing like the last time. It’s trouble though; Yuuji knows that in his bones.

Gojou says, “Harder.”

Huh. Okay then.

Yuuji raises his hand, bringing it down on Gojou’s hole. It’s a stronger, rougher blow than the first one, with the power behind it justified only by the fact that the flesh he’s abusing belongs to Gojou Satoru, but even with that knowledge ripe in his mind, it feels dangerous and taboo to touch him here with so much force. Even Gojou looks delicate like this, on all fours with his legs spread wide to expose himself, spread even further by the hand Yuuji’s dug into one plumb cheek.

The way his flesh darkens into a rawer pink only adds to that impression.

Yuuji feels like a right pervert, but that doesn’t stop him from doing it again, angling his hand so his fingertips catch Gojou’s clenching hole with maximum force. It connects with a sharp noise, and Yuuji didn’t notice Gojou’s reaction the last time, too caught up in the heady guilt, but this time, there’s no missing the way Gojou shudders all over and arches away from Yuuji’s hand, a second too late to escape the impact. Yuuji’s already raising his hand for another blow, and it’s Gojou’s fault, really, that it’s his nails that catch the flinching hole.

Gojou lets out a wounded little noise, his shoulders rippling with movement as he lowers his head to the mattress. Yuuji watches, half worried and half smug, as Gojou presses his face to the sheets and just…breathes.

“Sorry,” Yuuji says, even though he isn’t. He doesn’t think Gojou wants him to be either. “I’ll make it better.”

Gojou asks something. At least that’s what Yuuji thinks he’s doing. But it’s just noise to him, muffled by the sheets at first and then drowned out by the rush of blood in his own ears as he presses his face to the warmth of Gojou’s ass, breathing in heat and musk as he nuzzles in. His original intent fades to static fuzz, the soft warmth there dragging him into something gentler but greedier. He rubs his cheek against the curve of Gojou’s ass and pushes his face more firmly into the space between, cupping both sides and pressing them together, till Yuuji’s bracketed in warmth.

“Yuuji.” The name is a whip crack, lashing at Yuuji despite the insulating press of flesh.

Yuuji makes a soothing noise and drags his mouth to Gojou’s harassed hole, kissing it sweetly before lapping at it, wet and sloppy.

Gojou twitches violently against his tongue. The muscles of his entire ass clench against and under Yuuji’s face.

Yuuji pulls back with a softer kitten lick, sliding his hand over to replace his lips with his fingers, and there’s enough wetness there that the tip of his thumb slips in easy. The rest of it doesn’t, but the resistance gives to pressure—in stages, friction clawing at him the entire time. Gojou takes it though, hot flesh swallowing Yuuji’s thumb to the last knuckle.

It’s so tight.

Satoru wasn’t this tight. Sure, his flesh burned and clung to Yuuji when he forced more and more into him, but there at the start, Yuuji slid that finger into him without a whisper of resistance.

But Satoru came all plugged up. Tied up too, like a very dirty present waiting to be opened.

It’s different with Gojou. It’s…

Still, is the first thing Yuuji notices after expanding his senses from the heat clamped around his fingers. Gojou is very, very still, not even breathing. The only part of him that’s moving is his hole, the muscles inside rippling around the intrusion like they just can’t help it.

Yuuji takes his fingers out, and that’s not any easier. Every second of dragging motion goes right to his dick, which feels about ready to explode. It’ll probably be embarrassing if he comes untouched from just sticking a finger into his teacher, but he can’t bring himself to care. It’d be worth it.

He stops with just the tip of his finger tucked into Gojou, curved over the rim. He tugs a little, his own parts clenching when darker flesh is revealed. Gojou’s hole is a violent pink all over from Yuuji hurting it, and it frames the opening obscenely well. Yuuji can’t help remembering what Satoru looked like here after Yuuji coaxed his fist out—gaping and dark, the rim fluttering and flexing like it wanted to close but couldn’t. Gojou’s so much smaller right now, but Yuuji’s burning with the knowledge of how much of himself he can bury in this man.

[wearyeyebrow]

Hidden in Lace

Summary: Diluc internalizes the various roles he's meant to play, but what would it be to listen to his own desires? A night of trying something new turns into an intimate discussion with you. NotSFW leaning but nothing explicit. Tags under the cut.

Tags: lingerie, implied sub Diluc, discussion, implied sex, romance, gn reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort

-

It's late in the evening at the Dawn Winery and you're pouring over your work, holed up in Diluc's study. Diluc's purposeful footfall notifies his return and the clink of china tells you he's refilled your teacup. You sigh and stretch before taking an appreciative sip. He's pulled another tome forward, sifting through the glossary, when his deep voice breaks the silence.

"Your birthday is next month - is there anything you'd like?" 

You hum and mark your place with a finger. "Huh. I can't think of anything… wait-" your eyes light up. "Actually, there is something I want, but only if you're comfortable with it." 

His brow furrows. "What do you mean?" 

"Well... I - you see, I've always wanted to see you in a set of lingerie. Would you mind if I bought you some?"

Diluc pauses for a moment, hand hovering in mid air, "...You want to buy me something for your birthday?" 

"Well that, in and of itself, wouldn't be my present. You'd be allowing me to see you in whatever I buy - that's the gift." 

"But... you could have-" he coughs into his hand and looks askance, "No matter. I can get you something and... also do that for you, if that's what you really want." 

"Really?" You can't completely hide your delight.

He shrugs, attempting to feign nonchalance. "It's hardly fair buying someone else a present for your birthday."

"That means... you don't mind? Wearing what I pick out?" 

"I reserve the right to say no upon seeing it."

"Of course. You're allowed to say no to the whole thing too, you know?" 

He's quick to reassure, a faint smile on his lips. "I know - it was just a reminder for myself."

"Nervous?" 

"...Preemptively unsure, maybe." 

You close your book and set it on the table with a thud. "It's just a fantasy of mine. I love the look of lace and I love what you look like even more. The two go really well together in my mind's eye." 

He cocks an eyebrow, expression incredulous, maybe a little cheeky. "Oh? So you've thought about this before...?"

You smile wide, unabashed. "Indeed - especially when we've been unable to see each other for awhile. You are one of my favorite fantasies." The slight color of his cheeks contrasts with a slightly scandalized expression. "Now that you've tentatively agreed, can I take your measurements?"

-

A few weeks later and you're waiting for him to open the dressing room door, leg bouncing in anticipation. He seemed a little hesitant when you handed him the set but you just know it'll look stunning on him. 

He calls out to you, voice muffled by the dressing room door. "I believe I've managed to put it on, it's... it's a bit... I'm not sure if it suits me." 

"I'll have to see it on to decide whether I agree, right?" 

"...Would it be alright if I come out in slacks, just to start?" 

"Of course - do anything that makes you feel comfortable, and that includes calling it off." 

There's a pause in conversation, and just when you're about to ask if he's okay, the dressing room door creaks open.

Oil lamp light flickers across the wall, lighting up his body as he enters the bedroom. Your breath catches in your chest, and your words die in your throat. 

His slacks are black, pressed well and tight to his thighs. They're held up with a leather belt and silver buckle. They sit low on his hips, just below the tips of his hip bones, and you can see the delicate trail of hair that reaches his navel. The top is made of jet black lace, delicate, but there's some weight to it. The lace has a soft, almost scalloped edge, hugging the curves and concaves of his chest. The fabric drapes over his body, as if it's meant to be there. It's intricate and stunning, embellished with tiny facets of white crystal, catching and shimmering even in the dim light.

He clears his throat at your silence. You try and blink away the sudden fog clouding your mind. 

"Come here, love." You rasp, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice. He does as you ask and you rise to meet him. You drink him in, hands softly sliding against the fabric. His breath hitches at your touch, but he is otherwise silent. You finally find his face after roaming his body with hunger in your eyes. He's flushed a beautiful red, head tilted to the side, avoiding the heaviness of your gaze. 

"Darling," you murmur, and his eyes flicker to your face, "You look stunning. Words rarely fail me, but I am having trouble articulating just how beautiful you look in this." He blushes impossibly red still, slightly overwhelmed, and maybe just... slightly uncomfortable? You pause.

"I guess I've never really asked, even though I've said it lots of times. Do you like it when I call you beautiful? Or would you prefer something else?" 

"I..." he clears his throat, "I am unsure how to respond." You look at him with concern. "It..." he breathes out, and even in the complete privacy of your bedroom he can only manage a whisper. "I do like it. But... I don't feel like I should." 

You gently prompt him to sit on the edge of the bed with you. "Do you wanna talk about it for a bit?" 

He wilts slightly, "I will do my best, but I'm afraid it's - it's quite nonsensical, or rather, it's really not worth any emotional weight." 

"Even so, it seems to weigh on you. Talking about it might help, if you want to."

"But… even now?" He gestures to himself.

"Especially now, if something's bothering you."

He sighs and almost reluctantly sits next to you. "...The piece you picked out is very well made, and it - it fits well." 

You nod. "I got it with you in mind and had it tailored for your measurements." 

"That…" he sighs, still flushed red but now turned inward. "I'm glad, I'm thrilled even-" 

"You don't sound thrilled." 

"Truly I am. It's just hard to acknowledge that to myself."

You soften your voice. "What do you mean?" 

He sighs. "There are certain... images? Ideals might be more accurate, that I have always been meant for, what I should like, how I should act. I feel… like a disappointment, when I find myself unable to live up to those ideals." He sighs again, eyes fixated on the carpet, "The more time I spend with you romantically the more I find myself enjoying every aspect of it, especially those that I am not supposed to like. I… was actually really looking forward to tonight." His voice trails off. 

"Was my request a little too much..? It's okay if it was."

He shakes his head and reflexively kisses your hand, voice low. "No - it's nothing you did, I - I'm just in my head all of the time, so hung up on - on..." his shoulders drop, and he sighs, as if resigned. "I am my own person. I am not beholden to the opinions of others in any other area of my life, and yet... it feels I'm doing something I shouldn't."

"Have you always felt this way when having sex with me?"

"Certainly not."

"Then… do you remember when you started feeling this way?"

"We were both figuring things out in the beginning. You graciously went through the motions with me -"

"It wasn't about being gracious-"

"I know, I'm sorry, that was the wrong way to put it. It's more accurate to say that our courtship began traditionally." He chuckles suddenly, "Well, not completely, you were the one who approached me, for which I am thankful." You squeeze his hand. "But more recently, our - the dynamic has shifted and..." He grimaces, "Whatever the hell that means - gods, the more I say it out loud the more trivial it all sounds." 

Your brow furrows. "But if it's bothering you, it's important."

He sighs. "It just - I want to make sense of why I feel this way. I know that you and I are the only people in our relationship. What we do together is ours and ours alone. Yet I... I feel like I shouldn't enjoy it."

"What, exactly, do you feel like you shouldn't enjoy?" You ask softly, hoping he'll elaborate. 

A gentle shade of red creeps down his neck and he falls onto his back. The bed feels nice and cool against his flushed skin. You shift onto your elbow and give him some time to think. You watch his adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. 

"Even in Mondstadt, the city of freedom, decorum is held in high esteem. There are roles certain people are meant to play, burdens to bear. So I… I feel like I shouldn't enjoy it when we're intimate and I - I don't have to worry about anything, when I don't have to think, I can only be myself, and there's- there's no danger, it's just us." He flushes all the way down his chest and averts his gaze, "When you call me pretty, and you direct me, and you... you praise me for doing as you’ve asked. It - I've never felt…” he tapers off, biting his tongue even in the midst of his confession. “In the back of my mind there's this voice saying that I'm being too much, too needy, I don't know the word for it. Unbecoming, maybe." His eyes flicker back and forth as he gazes at a spot of nothing on the ceiling. "______, you know why I changed the trajectory of my life and why I keep the details under wraps. I feel as though, even when I enjoy something so much, it does not fit the role I'm supposed to play, and therefore I shouldn't enjoy it." He smiles wryly, "Or maybe I'm misjudging the situation. Maybe I'm just awful in bed."

You shift onto your side and rest your head against his stomach, idly tracing your finger over and through the lace on his chest. His skin is warm and your voice is gentle.

"You’re wonderful in bed, but even if you weren't it'd hardly matter, that isn't why I care for you. I'd rather ask, is this how you want to enjoy intimacy?" 

There's a beat of silence. His chest dips with every slow breath he takes. 

"Yes." 

"Me too." You seek out his hand amongst the covers and intertwine your fingers. "I don’t know if this will help but… I've never lived up to my 'potential,' I've rarely been what people have wanted, in vague terms anyway." He frowns but continues to listen, "I've tried, you know, to be what they wanted, but I couldn't even do that - that's when I realized that it's all futile. I'm…' you breathe in deeply, "I'm not going to censor myself for the sake of someone else's ideals or vision of me, especially since it never works, because, no matter what, I always come up short. But with the right people, with you, with others like me, those 'shoulds' matter less and less.” He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

You turn and meet his eyes. "To me, you're just Diluc. You're loyal and thoughtful, you care for moral causes and you work too hard. You have my back whether we’re fighting or resting together. I love all of that about you. And I also love you like this, when I call you pretty and your ears turn red, when you look at me like - like I'm… heh." 

You shift up onto your stomach. He feels your tender hands start to run through his hair, separating any snags onto the bedspread below. 

"You're allowed to enjoy yourself and you're allowed to feel pleasure - before anything that you are, you're a person. I don't expect any more of you than what you willingly give." 

He breathes out and sits up slowly, blinking slightly as he adjusts to the dim glow of the oil lamp. His gaze flits between your eyes and his calloused fingers run up and down your arm. His voice is hushed and a little unsure.

"...What if it's still hard to convince myself of those things?"

You tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. "Truthfully, I don't know. I think you deserve the world, but… I'm not sure how you convince yourself. Maybe I'm also looking for the answer to that question." 

You rest your hand against his cheek and he tilts, capturing it with his own to place a reverent kiss to your palm. His eyebrows furrow and he rests his forehead against your intertwined hands.

"I think I've said all I can put into words tonight. Thank you for listening. I have a lot to think about, but I feel more at peace with myself. May I come to you again after I've given it more thought?" 

"You can come to me with anything, anytime." 

"Please know I reserve the same space for you."

His eyes close as you place a gentle kiss to his forehead. He feels you lightly tug at the garment he's wearing. 

"Would you like to save this for another night?" 

He bites his lip, as if he just realized he's still wearing it. 

“I… I did say that I've been looking forward to tonight.”

You smirk, “So you're okay to continue? I hardly know what to do with myself, you just… you look so good in lace, I knew you would.”

He can't meet your eyes but the red tips of his ears give him away.

You run a hand over the fabric. “Do you like it, Diluc?”

“...I do,” he whispers, "Archons I do."

[xamaxenta]

Modern Sabo finishing up a mission in the hospital Marco works at and theyre under lockdown idk how any of that works but Marco’s with him like youre not a nurse

Sabo: wow howd you guess

Marco: you were way too nice

Sabo: damn noted for next time

Sabo psmashinf the glass to the fire axe like well this is where i bid thee adieu darling

And hes breaks down the door bc he doesnt have time for this hes still in uniform and everything nurse scrubs in dark blue and Marco feels like if he doesnt take the chance now Sabo will slip through his fingers like sand and he grabs his arm on the next swing like when can i see you again

Sabo blinks, hesitates theres gunfire and holy shit this place is compromised as much as his cover is blown

Sabo: next thursday?

He yanks Marco back as the door busts in concave the other way because his back up is here and a disheveled young man with dark hair and the cutest freckles staggers in dripping blood everywhere like “i came to extract YOU and this is what i get”

Marco cant help himself “at least youre at the hospital”

The man throws him a look like bruh

Sabo throws aside the axe and grabs the newcomer in by the lapels of his jacket like i told you not to come and the new dudes like you’re not authorised to tell me what i can and cant do (bickering as if you ever listen??)

Its like the biggest drama but before Marco can make sense of their relationship hes getting hauled down the buildingside fire escape and Sabos like move doc i know youre strapped under that dorky uniform, dont get lazy on me

Bundled into a nondescript vehicle sandwiched between two hot guys…

The darkhaired one, Ace asks him if hes any good at sutures and Marco smiles like oh yeah, the best and Ace yanks off his shirt like bastard got me in the side, think u can patch me up?

In a moving vehicle? Marco would love a challenge again

[serpentarius]

The werewolves are at a new club with the vampires tonight for their monthly meet-up. 

Nick's recommendation, unsurprisingly. It's a spot called The Groove Grotto and Nick knows the owner, so he was able to get all the vampires invited in. It's a bit cheesy here, with one too many strobe lights going, and it's not as big or filled up as Boogie Wonderland, but it's got a decent crowd and a nice enough vibe.   

Anton perks up when Viago appears in front of him on the dancefloor. 

"Are you having fun?” the vampire asks. 

“Yeah!” he replies, taking a sip of his beer. "You?" 

"Yes, great!" the vampire yells. Then, suddenly, he asks, "May I please have a word with you? Outside?" 

"Oh, yeah - sure!" 

They find an exit that takes them to the back alley. They're the only ones out there, the feeble glow of streetlights casting faint shadows along the uneven brick, the distant bass offering a comforting respite.

"So what's up, mate?" Anton asks him.

He figures Viago just wanted a break from the loud atmosphere, to simply chat about their day, away from the rest.

What he doesn't expect is for Viago to stick his hand out and say, "I made you this.”

The vampire unfurls his fingers. There's something there. 

“Oh gosh,” Anton reacts, inspecting the wrapped object. “Really? For me?”

“Yes."

“And it’s a…" He takes it from Viago, unwrapping it to reveal a long, delicate ceramic piece. It's thicker on one end, and it's got little bends and crooks in it. Upon closer look, he's able to make out the concave divot on the other end. “Spoon?” 

“Ja,” Viago responds giddily.  

“Wow, this' really something,” Anton continues to examine it, impressed by the intricate patterns on its handle. “Your craft's come a long way, mate!” 

Viago's beam grows wider. “Thank you. I will admit that this was a difficult one to do. But it was important for me to get it right. So," he now takes the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth. "Do you accept it?”

The phrasing of this throws him off a bit. But that's a general occurrence with Viago, so Anton just says, "Yeah, of course, mate. I love it. Thank you. I'll keep it safe."

He wraps it back up and carefully places it into his jacket pocket. He doesn't want to risk it breaking, though, so he keeps his fingers closed around it. Then, half-jokingly, he asks, "So's it my birthday or something? What's the occasion?"  

“No occasion," the vampire responds, but a hint of anxiety colours his gaze. As if he was expecting Anton not to like the gift. "You do so much for me, Anton.” 

His face suddenly feels warm. 

“Sweet of you to say, Vi,” he says. “But, uh - seriously, everything okay? You look–” Anton crooks his head, “Odd. No offence.” 

Viago clears his throat. “An idea has just come to me.” 

“What is it?”

“I would like to see your…”

Anton's eyes go wide. “My….?”

“Park.”

“My park?” 

“Yes.”

“What d'you mean?”

Viago straightens up. “Ja, you know. The park. Where you work. Are you able to show it to me, at a suitable nighttime hour?”

Anton’s brows furrow. “I — uh, like a private tour of the conservation?”

“Yes. I would like you to give me a private tour of your park.”

“You know it’s not really my park, mate,” he chuckles. “But - yeah, of course, I can work something out." He examines Viago, trying to figure him out by his expression, though it remains perplexing. "Do I dare ask what brought this on?”

Viago’s mouth quirks a little. “Only that I would like to know more about what you do. I enjoy it when you share your interests with me.”

Anton blinks fast. The flattery warms his heart, leaving him momentarily at a loss for words.

“Ah. That's really nice, mate. And same to you, by the way. Pottery lesson sometime? I've always wanted to make a vase.” 

Viago is quiet at first. But then, very softly, he says, “Anytime you would like.”

— Sneak peek #2 from Chapter 5 of “You’re A Little Bit Just Like Me” 😄

[blueseachelle]

Can you write a Vax x reader smut. Where they have beat the concave and helping rebuild Tal dori and Vax is getting stressed and the reader helps de stress him.

Another Vax request!! I’m so happy for this one. So, the keep will be rebuilt in this. We love a de stressing fic! If this was not up to standard, let me know! Rewrites can always happen! No problem! So, anyway, enjoy!

Use Me.

Critical Role Vox Machina

Vax x Fem! Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

It has been extremely busy around. You and the rest of Vox Machina were trying to piece back together what was destroyed by the Concave that started this shit show. You have been helping Vox Machina ever since the first Vestige they acquired. You may be the latest to join but, it seemed like you have been there forever. During your travels with them, Vax gained feelings for you and confessed them. You returned those feelings back. You have been with him ever since.

When you first got to the keep(after it was rebuilt, or course), Vax told you that you will be sharing a room with him. You didn’t mind. As long as he didn’t mind “nerd books” lying around everywhere. You are an (High Elf) Artificer. Arcana and books are your thing. You are amazing at your work and help the team get out a lot of tight situations. You were excepted immediately among them.

You have been helping rebuild for about 3 months now. There is always a problem and situation. All of you are happy to help but, sometimes you need a break. You finally caught one. After many sleepless nights and traveling, you finally got a second. You locked yourself in you and Vax’s room and took a long rest. I know Elves don’t “Sleep” but, in this case it seemed like you were actually sleeping instead on being in a meditative state.

Vax walked down the corridor to his and your’s room. He stretched as he walked. He didn’t know how much more of this helping he could do before he would snap. He just spent all day helping a kid find his cat. Of course he isn’t a monster, helped the kid but, if you can’t even describe the color of your cat, is it really your cat? He just sighed. All he wanted to do is finally relax. It’s been weeks since he even got to relax with his beloved. He just hoped she was waiting for him on the other side of that door.

He got to the door and twisted the handle. It was locked. He groaned and grabbed his key. He swore under his breath as he unlocked it. If it was on of Scanlan pranks again, he was gonna lose his shit. He swung the door open. He breathed a sigh of relief. There were no goats or an Orc prostitute. His keen eyes picked up on the shape in his bed. It was you. He smiled and closed the door behind him. As he made his way to the bed, he mindlessly took of his armor, lazily dropping it to the floor will dull thuds and a tick every now and then because something metal hit the cold floor.

You have been asleep for a good 5 hours. Now, you were in your meditative state. The soft thuds and ticks from Vax’s armor woke you up. You felt a weight on the side of the bed. You peeked one eye open and say the raven locks of your lovely rogue. You smiled and adjusted to lay on your side, facing him. He was taking off his boots as you watched him. After he finished taking off everything, has just left in his boxers. He finally turned to you. His eyes met yours. He gave you a loving smile,

“I’m sorry, Darling, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You returned his smile,

“It’s okay. I’m just happy that you’re here now. I’ve missed you.”

Vax chuckled and crawled into bed with you. He laid on his side facing you and gave you a hug,

“I’ve missed you too. This whole building and fixing thing has been such a fucking mess. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

You nodded,

“I get it. It’s stressful. Everyone relays on us so much. It’s a lot.”

Vax gave you a long kiss full of longing. After the kiss ended, he looked down and smirked,

“No bra today?”

You blushed,

“Yeah. All this working and walking around is making my boobs ache. I needed the relief.”

Vax’s hand came up and found it’s way to one of the squishy mounds,

“I think I know how to de-stress both of us. Only if you’re up for it, of course. I know you must be tired.”

You shook your head,

“I’m not tired at all. I love you, Vax. I want you to relax too.”

Vax smiled and squeezed her exposed chest,

“I love you too, Y/n. Thank you.”

With that, he leaned down and captured her lips with his. The kiss was filled with hunger and lust. He snaked his tongue into your mouth. You let out a slight moan. Your hands found there way to his hair, tugging slightly.

Vax readjusted your positions to where he was on top of you now. The new position made the kiss even deeper as he trailed his hands down your body. After the kiss finally split, he moved to his lips down to your jawline. He nipped and kiss his way down your neck, of course, he abused that one spot that always made you let out a slight squeak. He smirked into your neck as he continued his way down. He slowly kissed down your body, abusing the areas that he knew that would make you quiver in pleasure.

He finally made his way to your thighs. He kissed and nipped on your quivering thighs. You let out whimpers as he took his time teasing you.

“V-Vax. P-Please.”

He let out a deep chuckle.

“I know, My Love.”

Vax relented his sweet torture. He moved his curious lips to your clothed entrance. He could taste your wetness through your black panties. He lapped at you through the cloth. You arched your back off the bed below you. Your hands descended immediately down to his dark locks.

After a couple more seconds, Vax removed the cloth finally. His lips made contact with the warm, wet flesh. His tongue prodded at the entrance. You let out a moan. His hand moved from your thigh and joined it with his tongue. A single digit entered. You gasped,

“V-Vax!”

He smirked and continued. He slowly moved the finger in and out. Soon, adding a second finger into the mix. He twisted and turned his fingers expertly. He knew exactly how to make you unravel. You felt the familiar coil in your abdomen. You arched your back even more and gripped onto your beloved’s hair for dear life. He felt how you started to tighten around his fingers. You didn’t have to say one word.

Vax started to curve his fingers more and started to suck more. The coil in you abdomen began to get larger and larger. Your hands gripped onto his hair and thighs tightened around his head,

“Vax’ildan!”

With a shout of his name, you came into his awaiting mouth. He removed his fingers and licked up the wonderful nectar that seeped from your quivering hole. You slowly came down from your high as he cleaned you up. You released your thighs and hands finally after relaxing. You heard a chuckle from between your thighs. You locked down to see Vax wiping your slick from his chin.

“Babe, you really thought I would be done with you?”

He crawled towards you before continuing,

“I have a lot of pent up stress and I think you do too, My Love, and,”

He brushed her hair from her forehead and pushed his hard on against her thigh,

“We have all night to get rid of it.”

With that, Vax brought you into a deep kiss and his tongue sneaked into your mouth. You wrapped you arms around him. After the kiss parted finally, you pushed your thigh against is clothed cock. You made eye contacted with him as you caught your breath,

“Use me.”

Vax immediately lost self control. He would live up to your request. He loved you and you loved him. He would always leave you satisfied (after every time you make love) yet wanting more, as he should.

I hope you enjoyed this! I will see you in the next one!

[baenyth]

Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Reviews Episode 3-15: Feast

Alright, this is the start of the big episodes in Season 3. The lore ones instead of relationship development that goes nowhere or episodes starring the side characters that I crave more content of. Let's go.

Again with Alya being more reasonable with Marinette and trying to figure out Miraculous lore and Hawkmoth's identity. Also Alix is here!

Ah, so Natalie's illness is caused by looking at the symbol of the Order! That just raises even further questions.

Ah, so Marinette's worried about Hawkmoth using the publicly-published lore to his gain! If only Ladybug could contact Alya to get the info privately and also clear up some things about Lila claiming to be her bestie...

Wow, taking a random child to become a guardian when he didn't want to? That would lead to disaster, honestly.

Also I guess he lost the Peacock and Butterfly by... tripping? Did they fall into the lava? Did the fall or pressure from a rock on top cause the peacock to break?

"I'm going to take your Miraculouses and leave Paris" and let Hawkmoth rule unreigned?

Also I see Chat isn't there again. I feel bad for him, honestly.

Plagg playing the piano was so cute!

Natalie's really milking herself dry for Hawkmoth, isn't she? Fool.

Bananoir 2: Revenge of Bananoir. Also Ladybug's disguised costume is better than her real one. Probably because she has a helmet.

The fact that Chat was joking around while his Kwami was at risk makes me believe his jokes are at least partially to blow off steam during the situation.

Oh my god. So doing Miracuous hero work is playing superheroes. Good gravy.

Another "getting eaten plan" by Ladybug. And she looks so happy doing it as well!

Hawkmoth knows who the guardian is now. Merde.

Also the Order of the Miraculous is back! Hopefully they can help now that they're not dead.

Fine lore episode. Feast or whatever the creature's name was coincidentally pretty similar to my "Miraculous Eater" concept in my fic. Here's a pic of one of them. They're purple with a cyan or pink underside, and although the image doesn't show it they're soft invertebrates. I think I should've drawn them with a more concave top like Globox or something.