#just a cool observation I wanted to point out =P

[st4rsinthenight]

★rotemntee. rottmnt. rotemntee. rottmnt. guys. guys I think I'm. I'm gonna erh supernova.★

[may-stuff]

The Only Thing He Needs | F.C

Franco Colapinto x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Cunnilingus, p in v, creampie (in that order) typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language. reader has breasts and a vagina but nothing else about her looks is specified

Word count: 3k

Author's note: Behold... my first child. It's ugly af but I love it because it's mine.

This is shorter than expected and I'm sure it'll disappoint many of you, so I apologise in advance. I'm just a girl trying to make the fandom happy.

Interactions with this thing would be appreciated, even if you want to let me know how much it sucked 💖

The sun is setting when he finally enters his room after what it felt like an eternity. The weather outside is so hot that when the cool air touches his skin he almost lets out a groan.

Franco would be lying if he said that it wasn't an extraordinary day, because it was. Despite the tremendous heat inside the car and the physical pain he went through, he did an amazing job and couldn't be prouder of himself and everything he has achieved at this point in his career. Sensing that there's a lot more to come, he can only feel excitement for the near future.

Still, even after everything that has happened and all the love and support he's received in the last couple of hours, there's something missing. Someone.

You.

You were there at the paddock during the race, but trying to avoid the media and all the fuss that would be caused if they knew of your relationship, you left the moment you saw the cameras. He hasn't seen you since then, almost three hours ago, and he wouldn't be exaggerating if he said that he is dying because of it.

You're everything he needs.

When his eyes finally find you, you're coming out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in nothing more than one of his old shirts. Your hair is loose and messy, your feet bare and there's that glint in your pretty eyes when you realise that now he's here in front of you, breathing the same air. Your beauty makes his heart swell with love.

His arms are wrapped around your waist the moment you literally jump into his embrace. Soon you're showering him in kisses all over his face and neck. He giggles in response, the grip on your waist increasing slightly.

"Missed you." You mutter, nose nudging the left side of his jaw. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay."

"It's okay." Franco answers. "You're here now. That's all I need."

And he means every word.

You smile in response. A smile that reaches your eyes and makes them shine with such intensity that makes him feel dizzy with love.

"You should take a shower." You don't miss the way he pouts when you pull away from him to have a better look at his face. "You stink, love."

"You love me anyway. Stinky and all."

Your laughter echoes in the entirety of the room as you walk towards the closet, where you look for a clean shirt and shorts and then toss them towards him. Rolling his eyes, he walks to the bathroom, chuckling when your voice, from the other side of the door, reminds him that you love him always.

Almost half an hour later he comes out of the bathroom, all wet hair and bare chest. He finds you in front of the bureau where you’ve put some of your clothes and he knows he should be thinking about something else right now, maybe discuss the race and his future in F1, or maybe he should tell you how much he would love to let the world know that he is yours, but all he can do is stare at you. 

Leaning on the doorframe, he observes your every move. You’re not doing something extraordinary, only going through your things, probably looking for the earrings you’ve lost again, but he isn’t afraid of admitting that every single thing you do, no matter how big or small, make you look like the most fascinating creature in existence.

Soon, as every other day, he finds himself walking in your direction. Hands itching with the need of touching you.

There's something about you. Something that lures him in like nothing else has done before. Maybe it's your hair and the intoxicating smell that touches his nostrils when he buries his face in it. Or maybe it's your skin and its taste, so sweet that it forbids him from thinking straight. It sure is the sound you make when you feel his hands on your waist.

His long fingers roam the skin of your waist and back as his lips kiss a wet trail down the right side of your neck. A soft breath leaves his mouth when his lips reach the spot right over your pulse, wasting no time in sinking his teeth in your flesh, softly but hard enough to make you hiss in pain.

"Fran." You warn him. Dainty hands touch his in an attempt to push him away, but his grip on your waist becomes stronger with the fear of losing the contact  with your skin.

"No, no. Por favor." He whimpers. He whimpers impossibly close to your ear, the agonic plea making you squirm in his arms almost against your own will.

"You bit me, Franco."

"Perdón." He cries. "Perdón. I won't do it again."

The mere thought of you leaving hurts him so bad that it is almost physical. It's been such a tough day and now all he wants is to hold you and never let go. You're the only one who can make him feel safe, at home.

There's nothing in this world that Franco loves more than having you in his arms, being able to kiss every part of you and rejoice in the way your body and soul respond to him. Always you, no one else.

“Tanta belleza..." he whispers. Hands now travel up your abdomen and then your sternum, until they finally rest on your round breasts. When he starts kneading your flesh at the same time he keeps kissing and licking the skin of your neck, you moan softly. In response he chuckles, amused by the way in which his words and touch make you forget everything.

You want to be mad at him, you want to scold him and forbid him from touching you if he bites you again, but your mind is dizzy by his kiss and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. His touch breaks your resolve and he knows it, always taking advantage of that.

Today is no exception, because soon he starts moving against you. Hips rocking forward, his growing erection brushes against the roundness of your ass, making both of you moan out loud.

"Can you feel me, baby?" He asks and he sounds desperate. You want to answer but fail miserably because of the intensity of it all. "Can you feel how hard you make me? This is all because of you, for you." 

You moan his name when he moves his hips once more, your own body meeting him halfway, desperately  looking for the contact that makes your skin shiver. 

“You have no idea,” he mutters against your skin, words interrupted by the kisses he's still giving you. “The things I want to do to you…” 

Your answer comes in a shaky breath.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The next few minutes happen so fast that you barely have a moment to process it all. In no time you're laying on the soft bed, your shirt is long gone and the cool air kisses your skin. The only piece of clothing remaining on your body is your underwear. 

Franco is at your feet, looking at you with eyes full of need and adoration. He takes a long time taking you in, pretty eyes looking at every piece of you, and when your own hands travel from your abdomen to your breasts, repeating his actions from before, a soft whine escapes his mouth. He observes as you touch yourself for him, right hand going down until you start playing with the hem of your knickers. He licks his lips, sight fixed on the wet spot in them. 

Just before you can sneak your hand under the soft fabric, his long fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you aside. He takes no time in replacing you, taking both sides of your panties and pulling them down. In no time they're being thrown to some place on the ground, long forgotten for the rest of the night. 

Hands on both of your knees, he spreads your legs open and lets out a shaky breath the moment your dripping cunt is finally on display. He has seen you like this countless times before but he always reacts the same way: enamoured with every part of your body. He wants to taste everything he can, he wants to drink from you until you beg him to stop.

And that's what he does.

Flat tongue travels from your hole to right under your clit, repeatedly, during a few tortuous seconds that feel like hours. Spreading you open with his thumbs, Franco keeps licking you there until you're the one whining and begging him to give you more. 

In response, you feel him smirk between your legs.

“You want more, huh?”

“Please. Fran, por favor.”

He chuckles.

“Qué putita que sos.”

You want to answer but nothing comes out of your mouth. Nothing but a high pitched moan when his lips finally lick your clit. Before you can even process what's happening, he's suckling on your bundle of nerves like it is the most delicious thing he's ever had the pleasure to taste. When your hands take a handful of his hair and tug at it softly, deep moans sound on the back of his throat and the vibrations rumble through your entire body, making your back arch in pleasure.

There's nothing better than this. His mouth on you, kissing, licking, making sounds that would make even the boldest of men blush. He eats you out like his life depends on it, ignoring the need for air in his lungs because all the oxygen he needs is in you, in your skin, in the very taste of you. He drinks from your juices as if they are the sweetest ambrosia, giving him life, giving him everything he needs. Nothing else, no one else but you.

You keep moaning his name louder and louder, not caring if others are listening. You'll deal with that later, but right now there's nothing in this world that could make you stop from letting him know how you feel.

“So good…” you moan. “You make me feel so good, baby.” 

He moans as well. Hips rocking against the bed cover, unconsciously looking for release. Your words are music to him, because all he wants is to make you feel so good that you forget everything else. Everything else but him. 

“You're soaked.” He groans after gathering your arousal on his tongue and then swallowing it. “Is this because of me, amor?”

Once again, you want to answer but his actions interrupt you. This time, your words get stuck in your throat by two of his long fingers entering you. Carefully, making sure he doesn't hurt you, but the only thing you can feel is the immense pleasure spreading all over your body, legs shaking slightly with the feeling of his fingers starting to move inside of you at the same time his lips wrap around your clit again, suckling with need. 

You moan his name like a mantra, both hands gripping his hair as your hips start to move almost involuntarily, rubbing yourself on his face as you look for your own release. He doesn't protest for a second, in fact, he grabs your ass in his hands to move you closer to his face and now it's impossible to part away from him, tongue and lips torturing your puffy clit as you cry out in pleasure. 

And then he does something that he's never done before.

His teeth grazes your sensitive bundle of nerves ever so slightly and that sends you to the edge. You have no time to react because soon entire galaxies are exploding behind your closed eyes. Some sort of electricity makes your body tremble as you cum on his tongue, and for a moment you feel like you are touching the sky with your hands. Seconds that feel like an eternity, you want to feel like this for the rest of your life. 

When you come back from some wonderful place you've never been before, you find yourself still laying on the bed, but this time Franco's on top of you. He's waiting for you to recover, only caressing your sides with his hands and leaving short kisses on your collarbone and chest. 

He knows you're back when you intertwine your fingers in his soft hair. 

“You okay?” He asks. You nod in response, a content smile on your lips. “Need you to use your words, baby.”

“I'm fine.” You answer. “Better than ever.”

He purrs like a kitten when your hands travel down his back, caressing his soft skin for a few moments. Then you remember that you’re the only one that has had an orgasm tonight, the realisationg making you feel incredibly guilty. Part of loving him is taking care of him as much as he does with you. That’s why it feels wrong, leaving him like this.

Your gaze finds his. He’s hovering over you now, one arm supporting his own weight as the other is in your face, fingertips brushing against your cheek and jaw. His big, pretty eyes are looking at you as if he’s trying to decipher you, and soon he does. It scares you sometimes, how easily he can read your thoughts by the expression on your face. 

“You don’t have to, you know?” He mutters. 

You kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his lips. 

“Of course I have to,” you object. “Because I love you.”

Franco smiles as you sit and motion to him to now lay on his back. He complies, never denying anything to you. 

Soon you’re kissing him again but this time you’re the one on top, legs on both sides of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth are intoxicating and, trying to coax more out of him, you take your hands to the waistband of his boxer and pull them down, just as he did with your underwear before. 

You wish you could take your time with him but you know that he won’t last long. His cock is impossibly hard, precum dripping out of the angry red tip. That’s why his reaction when you touch him doesn't surprise you; he’s at the edge and it won’t take much time for him to come undone in your arms.

“Amor…” he moans as you stroke him, spreading his juices all over his beautiful dick. You know what he wants. He’s trying to tell you that he can’t wait any longer, that all he wants is to feel you. 

So you comply. 

Both of you moan the exact moment he enters you, hard cock stretching you out in such a delicious way that has you closing your eyes tight. You’re so wet that he slides in easily, filling you completely. 

Your name leaves his lips in a plea that makes you move in no time. The friction coaxing more sounds out of the both of you. He whispers sentences that are never finished, words both in English and Spanish that have no coherence. He’s so lost in the bliss of having your sweet cunt wrapped around him that can barely speak properly. 

“You look so beautiful like this…” he manages to say, the phrase interrupted many times by his own moans. “Riding my cock… so, so good…”

In response you move faster. You can feel him inside of you, twitching with the need of release that will soon arrive. His grip on your waist tightens as you ride him faster and faster each time, breasts bouncing with your moves and that, too, sends him over the edge. 

“Fran…” you moan, your eyes pleading. “Come on, baby. Fill me up.”

Those words and your walls hugging his dick with such intensity are enough to make him cum. He reaches his orgasm in seconds, warm seed spilling deep inside of you and triggering your own climax, which is shorter than the previous one but even more intense.

You keep moving for a few seconds, milking his cock a little more. When you start feeling him going soft you decide to take him out of you, hearing him moan one more time as he watches his own semen dripping out of you. 

The way he looks after he has an orgasm is one of the most gorgeous things you’ve seen in your life. Hair dishevelled, skin glistening with sweat and pretty eyes full of satisfaction, he’s drunk in love and adoration for you and you love it. You love seeing him like this, knowing that you’re the reason behind it all. 

“You’re perfect.” you whisper to him, your lips hovering over his. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Franco smiles as his right hand comes up to caress your hair lovingly. Now, after the intensity of the love-making, both of you long for your lover’s touch in a more innocent way, in a way that can soothe all the aches. 

You stay like that, resting in each other’s arms, for what it feels like hours. After a while and starting to feel a little sleepy, you sit up on the bed. He looks in your direction, surprised and almost offended with you for pulling away from him. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“We need to take a shower, come on.” 

You try to get off the bed, but his strong arm is around you in an instant, taking you back to his side. You giggle as he holds you tight and starts biting at your neck.

“There’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says. “You’re staying here with me forever.”

“But we can’t!” You laugh again. “We need to have a shower and eat something.”

“No, no.” This time his tone is more serious. His hands are both on your cheeks, softly making you look at him in the eyes. “You are the only thing I need.” 

For a second you want to scold him for not taking his own well being seriously, but then a smile appears on your face, leaving the previous frown behind, because now you realise that you feel the same way.

.

taglist: @bicchaan @amz824 @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

[homestylehughes]

bed chem.

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

warning(s): fluff. mutual pinning. very slight slow burn. suggestive content. 18+.

wc: 1.5K

an: hi lovesss!!!! I present you with a new fic, finally. this song is loosely based off of "bed chem" by sabrina carpenter, and the one and only quinn hughes. this is one of my favorites, I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you did :)

as always, much much love <3

He caught your attention in a room full of people, your eyes stuck to him like glue. Your eyes followed his every movement, watching him wordlessly from across the busy club. Watching how he interacted with the people around him, how his lips broke into a smile as he laughed at something someone said to him. 

He, whoever he was, was beautiful. From his hair, eyes, smile, everything. Not to mention how his white fitted shirt looked on him. The fit was so perfect, it almost looked like it was painted on him. You felt like a creep looking at him, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about him that was almost addictive? Something bad, but yet so so good. 

“Are you done staring at him like a creep, or are you gonna go over and say something?” your friend says besides you, snapping you out of daydream

“I wasn't looking..just observing” you say, clearing your throat, before taking a drink of the watered down cocktail in front of you in hopes to avert your gaze from the Greek god of a man in front of you. 

“Well..he and his friends just looked over here and pointed.” she giggles from besides you

“Shit. Are you joking? Youve got to be joking right?” you whisper-yell to her in a state of panic 

“Nope,” she says, popping the p.

“Oh god, yn they're coming over here now.” she says frantically 

“Oh my god” you say, moving to sit up straighter in your seat. Your eyes move to follow the very attractive man and his friends make their way over to you guys. 

“Shit he is hot, and so are his friends.” your friend gushes out besides you 

“Shut it, act normal, talk to me about something.” you say quickly, your eyes flickering to the men who are moving in closer. 

Your friend starts talking to you about something random, but you can't concentrate on her words. Your mind is locked in the man approaching, that you can't gather another thought about anything else, as you watch them in the corner of your eye. Just as they are about to reach the table, another large group of men cuts in front of them. Wrapping each of the men into hugs, yelling and smiling as they interact, with what you assume are their friends. 

“Youve got to be kidding me” she says, stopping mid sentence of her empty word ramble. 

“ well..thats, that i guess” you sign out, looking as the men pull each other to the bar in the opposite direction. 

“Guy in the white shirt is looking at you, look up look up.” she says slapping your arm 

Quickly reacting, pulling your head up. Your eyes find him quickly, as he looks back at you. Sending you a quick wink and smirk before he turns around following his friends. 

“Oh my gosh. Yn he so wants you” 

“I don't even know if i'll see him again”

“Never say never.” 

You giggle at her opsitism, before throwing the rest of your drink back, hopping out of your seat, moving to grabher hands pulling her towards the dance floor. 

“Come on! We came to have fun, right?” you shout at her, as you two giggle walking hand in hand to the dance floor. 

�� 

After lots of fun, maybe too much fun and a few more drinks later. You finally make your way back to your hotel. You come back solo you might add, your friend being pulled away by a hot mysterious man who caught her attention. Leading her to follow him out of the club with a wide smile on her face. 

Sighing deeply as you stare at your shoes waiting for the elevator door to open, a few moments later a loud ding signals in the opening. Heading in quickly, and hitting your floor. Leaning your exposed back against the cool elevator door, the only thing on your mind is taking off your shoes, and washing a somewhat disappointing night out away. 

Just as the elevator is about to close, you hear a man shouting to hold the door. Pushing yourself off the wall to hit the open button. The out of breath man quickly moves in, as you look up to ask him what floor he needs, you're face to face with, hot fitted white shirt man, who's staring at you with widened eyes. 

“What floor do you need?” you ask quietly, struggling to find your words.

“Um, 69 please, oh wait you've already pressed that.” The man finally speaks to you, his deep voice filling the now closed elevator. 

“You're the girl from the club tonight.” he says looking over at you from across the elevator. 

“And you're the guy” you say

“Felt you looking at me, the whole night” he says, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks as you look back down at your shoes. 

“Don't be embarrassed, i was looking too.” he continues 

“I saw” you spoke 

“Almost had you too” he says 

“Almost..” you repeat to him softly, your gaze flickering between his lips and eyes. 

“Well we’re here now” he replies 

“You have 9 floors to make something happen..” you trail off 

“Quinn. My names quinn” he says 

“Yn. my names yn” 

“Well yn i only need 2 floors to make this happen” quinn says, quickly making his way over to you. One of his hands meeting your hip as the other holding your face, pulling you into him, your lips connecting as one.

The motion happens so quickly you barely have time to register what your body is doing until you're kissing him back quickly. Your hands tangle themselves into his hair as you pull yourself into his body.

You two are so wrapped up into each other that you don't even realize the elevator has stopped, the door opening slowly. 

Quinn pulls back, his lips swollen as he looks down at you. “How was that for something yn?” he says, dropping his gaze down to you. 

“I think i might need you to show me a bit more” you whisper

“Oh really?” he says as he slowly pulls you out of the elevator. 

“Mhm” you mumble to him

“Lead the way” he says, dropping his hand from you, waiting on your next move. 

You take a second to take him in natural light. Everything about him is intoxicating, you need more. No matter the cost, or how bad of an idea it could be. You don't care, not right now. Before you can give it a second thought, you're pulling him by his hand by your room. Your steps are quick, your body hot with need. 

Reaching your room quickly, dropping Quinn's hand, as you start searching for your key card, you feel Quinn's hot body against yours. His lips finding your neck and his hands back on your hips as he pulls you back against him. Your movements began to halter as he began to get lost in his touch. 

“Quinn..you have to get off me for 30 seconds so i can open the door” 

“Mhm. I know, but I'm getting impatient. I've wanted you all night.” he says against your neck, his warm breath sending chills down your body. 

“You wanna know what i've thought about and what i'm thinking about right now? Hm?” he asks 

“Yes, yes tell me” you gasp out, your hands trying to move quickly, still in search of the key. 

“How the dress would look on the floor, how your body would look against mine. How youd look all fucked out for me in my bed” he says, his lips tight to your ear. 

Just as he finishes his sentence, your hands grasp the key card in your purse. Pulling it out quickly, and tapping it against the door aggressively, pushing the door open as soon as it buzzes open. 

Quinn moves quickly, pushing you in slamming the door, and before you know it his lips are against yours as if they never left. You're quick to turn him around, your hands moving against the buttons on his shirt as he hits the bed, pulling you on top of him; your lips never once leaving each other. 

“You're dangerous” quinn says pulling away from your lips 

“Why's that?” you ask, your hands still working to unbutton his shirt. 

“I've barely had any of you, and i dont think ill ever get enough” he says looking at you

“Who said you ever have to stop, we’re just getting started” you say while unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pushing it off his shoulders. 

Quinn responds with a look and a small smirk and you know what that means.

[httpkaulitz]

Say yes to me

PAIRINGS: Demon Bill x Female reader

CONTENT: Smutt

SYNOPSIS: Halloween is a perfect day to collect a soul.

WARNINGS: dom!Bill, sub!reader, mention of drugs and drinking, mention of stalking, mention of blood and bite, manipulation, unprotected sex, p in v, public sex.

A/N: I'm late for Halloween, but here's Demon Bill that I've been promising for ages.

Halloween parties were the perfect excuse to dress up in a scary, sexy outfit and get drunk. Most people went to parties just to get completely drunk and make out with masked strangers. And you were no different.

The general aesthetic appealed to you, since you've always liked dark things. Your best friend had gotten tickets to this super exclusive party, you didn't know how, but you didn't really care about knowing, since she probably sucked someone's dick to get it.

As soon as you stepped foot in the place you realized how luxurious it was. The old mansion had at least three floors and the backyard was huge. The whole place was impeccably decorated and there were lots of red lights scattered around the place, giving it a devilish and lustful atmosphere.

The loud music reverberated throughout the place and the people around were dancing, their bodies glued together almost in sync. You had to blink a few times to avoid being caught mesmerized by the scene.

You've been to a lot of Halloween parties, a lot of them. But none of them had ever been so perfect. You couldn’t describe it, it wasn’t just the decorations or the perfectly dressed people. It was a feeling. A mix of danger and adventure that you couldn’t explain why you were feeling.

“I told you to come dressed up.” Your friend suddenly shouted, jumping up next to you. She was clearly already half drunk, with a glass of drink in her hand.

“I’m dressed up!” You said, indignant at her not-so-subtle way of saying you were poorly dressed.

She looked me up and down and pointed her finger at you before speaking. “A black dress and a witch’s hat isn’t really a costume.”

She was right, the people in this place were dressed up like they were in a million dollar competition to see who would win the prize for best costume. Some were so good they looked real.

Your friend had somehow managed to come up with a realistic enough costume that it didn’t look like she’d just picked something improvised like you.

“Well, if I’d known it would be like this I would have rented something.” You said as you observed the people around you.

“It doesn’t matter now. Come on, I want to show you something.” She grabbed your wrist and pulled you back outside.

You followed her to the back of the tent and saw a huge tent set up. There was a small line of people and she stopped right behind the last one.

“What is that?” You asked confused.

“It’s a seer!” She said excitedly. “Can you believe it? They also made a horror maze on the third floor.” Well, that was cool, you didn’t understand why she was so excited about the seer.

“Why are you so excited about this?” You asked as you watched her. Your friend had never been one to believe in that kind of thing.

To be honest, neither did you. Yes, you always liked the idea of ​​mythological and supernatural beings existing, but it was kind of impossible for everything to be real.

She looked at you with a look of “you’re being silly.” And then said, “If real gypsies exist, they would definitely be here. Haven’t you ever heard of the party hosts?”

Of course you had heard of them. A millionaire and somewhat eccentric family who are passionate about the supernatural. Every year they throw a Halloween party, so uniquely extraordinary that everyone wants to attend. After the parties, there were always rumors of people who had supernatural experiences. In your opinion, these people were either very drunk or on drugs.

“So what? Are you going to ask about the future or something?” Just as your friend was about to answer you, the person in front of you gave up on entering, giving you and your friend the chance.

The two of you looked at each other for a few seconds and then went in. It was exactly as you expected. Dim lighting, some crystals and incense. The woman was sitting on the other side of the table and your friend ran to sit in the chair across from her.

You waited, standing a little ways away, while your friend held the woman's hand and asked stupid questions like "Is Johnny going to break up with Camila to be with me?" You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Seriously, she could at least ask something useful like the lottery numbers.

After that, you stopped paying attention, but it wasn't long before her time was up and it was your turn. Not that you really wanted to participate, but your friend was kind of forcing you.

You held out your hand for her to hold and stared at her. "I don't really have anything to ask." You said nervously, feeling like you were wasting her time.

"You don't have to." She frowned as if trying to understand the situation. "I see something with you, a shadow that follows you."

"Maybe it's that guy who appears in your dreams." Your friend said laughing.

You quickly looked at her and muttered "Shut up." You didn't want this woman to gather any information to even try to get into your head.

But she didn't seem to pay attention to what you and your friend were saying. She was very focused on you, almost hypnotized. "It's always with you, watching you and guiding your path."

Your friend butted in again, now looking even more excited. "So what? Does she have a guardian angel?"

"I would say it's the opposite." The woman answered automatically and let go of your hand.

"What?" You asked confused.

"Don't say yes to him." She said firmly, looking scared.

"To who?" Nothing she said made sense. Was she trying to scare you or what?

"Next!" She turned and faced the two of you, waiting for you to leave.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

You and your friend had no idea what had really happened in the tent, but you decided to believe that it was some kind of marketing ploy so that the two of you would leave the party saying that you had had a supernatural experience.

You decided that after that you needed a drink and a little dancing to forget all of this. But now more than ever you felt watched. Even dancing in the middle of the crowd you felt like you were in a spotlight with eyes completely focused on you.

You felt hands grip your hips tightly, even without seeing who it was you didn't care. It was a welcome distraction. His body danced in sync with yours, as if you were one.

Sweat was dripping down your neck and the multicolored lights were making you feel a little dizzy. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back on the stranger's shoulder. His hands released your hips, he brushed your hair away from your face and then slid his hands down your arms, down your back, and finally back to your hips. When you heard the voice whispering in your ear, "Come find me." You jumped away. When you looked back, there was no one there.

You decided that you should leave the dance floor, maybe all these lights and people together were making your head confused. Since you hadn't seen the other rooms of the party besides the first floor yet, you decided to go up. The second floor was kind of an extension of the first, except that it was much darker than the first floor and there were some platforms with people dancing in almost animalistic costumes that made them look half human, half animal.

At this point, you had no idea where your friend was. Your head was a mess, but you refused to believe the nonsense that strange woman told you. You went to the stairs and went up to the third floor.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

You didn't remember how you ended up inside the maze, all you remembered was a man dressed as a mad scientist giving you a neon green drink to drink.

The endless corridors and colorful lights were starting to make your head spin. There was nothing or no one around, it was just corridors and more empty corridors, you could even hear your footsteps as you walked aimlessly.

You were sure you were lost and your paranoid mind wasn't helping you. When you turned around in the hopes of being able to follow the same path and find the door you came in through, all you saw was a huge wall.

“No, no, no.” You said exasperatedly as you touched the wall to confirm that it was real. But how could that be real? You had just passed by there.

For the first time you heard footsteps that weren’t yours, but when you looked around there was no one.

“Hello, is anyone there?” You shouted but no one answered, the only sound you heard was the echo of your voice and the footsteps that now seemed faster as if they were running.

A small feeling of panic and urgency took over you and you ran. You couldn’t say for sure what it was, maybe it was paranoia or instinct. You felt like you had to get out of there, you knew that finding whoever was the owner of those footsteps wouldn’t be a good thing.

You continued running through the maze without knowing exactly where you were going, you didn’t even know if you were close to the exit or not. The loud and hurried footsteps seemed to follow you, but whenever you looked back there was no one.

It hadn’t even been five minutes but to you it already seemed like an eternity. Until as you ran and looked back you bumped into something. The impact was so strong that it threw you backwards and you fell on your butt.

“Are you okay?” The man in front of you asked. He didn’t really look worried, his expression was neutral, but when you didn’t answer he tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“I-I’m fine, I was just trying to get out.” You stammered still confused at how he ended up in front of you.

“It’s pretty confusing, isn’t it?” He asked as he extended his hand towards you. “They really just made a maze. Well, I guess it’s scarier when you realize how hard it is to get out.”

You gladly took his hand and let him help you up. You could feel the heat radiating from him even through the white glove.

“Yeah, it wasn’t quite what I expected.” You said still nervously. You were starting to feel aware of how bad your costume was as you watched him closely.

His outfit looked old, but luxurious. His long, white hair was too beautiful to be just a wig, so it must be a very expensive one. The white makeup with blood dripping from his horns and lips looked so natural that you had a hard time telling if it wasn't real. Maybe you were just a little drunk from the drink you had before entering the maze.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He asked again, now looking at you more closely as if he wanted to read your thoughts. You just nodded. “Come with me, I'll help you get out of here.”

He held your hand and you just followed him, strangely he gave you mixed feelings. At the same time that you felt like you could follow him forever, like he was someone familiar to you, you also felt like you had to run and disappear somewhere he could never find you again.

“What are you?” You asked as you pointed to his costume. An attempt to make the awkward silence disappear.

He looked at you with a small smile and then answered you. “A demon.” He looked very proud. You would feel the same way if you were dressed in a decent costume instead of the crap you were wearing.

“Witch.” You said, pointing to yourself. He laughed and you didn’t know if he was making fun of you or if he just found the situation funny.

It didn’t take long for you to find your way out. You were ready to go downstairs and get some fresh air when Bill grabbed you by the arm.

“I want to ask you something.” He said softly, his voice almost melodic.

After that, everything became a big blur. It was like you were hypnotized, like his presence was clouding your senses. His black, shiny eyes watched you intently while his hands traveled over your body, feeling every part.

No matter the question, you would say yes.

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You couldn't stop the moans and screams that left your lips, even if you tried. Your eyes were cloudy and tears were streaming down your cheeks as you were fucked relentlessly. The danger of being caught made everything more exciting, the excitement was boiling your blood hotter and making the pleasure you were succumbing to intensify.

Bill hadn't just made you say yes to him, he made you beg and beg. Somehow you couldn't explain, he had this sexual aura that drove you crazy just by being in his presence.

And you weren't ashamed to beg for more, with drool running down your lips and tears welling up in those beautiful doe eyes due to the euphoria and boundless lust, and your lips swollen from the kiss, Bill found it hard to resist.

You were holding tightly to the railing of the stairs. Your feet stopped touching the ground minutes later, using the railing to ground yourself. Bill's hips were moving forward and relentless. The head of his cock kept hitting against that familiar spot that made you moan loudly and your body tremble.

You could only let out loud moans, whimpers and screams, your words were incoherent and you couldn't focus on anything other than the sensations that were passing through your body. Bill's well-aimed thrusts made you stupid and with the way that cock in you made your lower abdomen distend a little, he feared you would break.

No. He wanted to break you and you wanted Bill to break you into a thousand pieces and then reshape you into whatever image he wanted.

The thought of Bill breaking you and making you know no one but him had you babbling and begging for the man to go harder. If you were even halfway coherent, you would blush at the way you were moaning like a whore. Loud, desperate and hungry for more. It defied the intensity of Bill’s grunts and hissed curses. He reached down and lifted one of your legs while his other hand remained on your hip, bringing it back to meet his thrusts.

"P-please!" You whimpered, your hands shaking.

"Greedy girl." Bill whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine at how thick, husky, and tight it was. "Even though I'm fucking you into oblivion, reshaping your insides with my cock, you still want more." He whispered sensually, his hot breath brushing against your neck.

You could only let out a moan in response.

"Well then, who am I to refuse you, my love." He pressed a loving kiss to your neck, sucking on the skin. His fangs scraped against your skin, wanting to sink into that excess flesh and pull out the delicious nectar that was hidden beneath it. "Take it then. Take it all."

And you did. Your eyes widened as you let out a choked gasp, your hands kneading the metal railing as they tightened.

Bill's cock was now hammering into you, the pace increasing. You couldn’t help but take it, your eyes rolling back as a steady wave of pleasure mixed with a little pain kept hitting you. If this kept up, you were going to come.

As if he knew exactly what was going to happen, he said, “Let it go.” Burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

It hit you so suddenly that you lost your voice for a second. You let out a choked noise as your body twitched and your legs shook.

Every nerve ending in you lit up like fireworks, your mouth falling open and your body shaking as ecstasy hit you like a train. You couldn’t think, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. Your senses went blank and white noise filled your ears.

But that didn’t stop Bill from chasing his own pleasure. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, pounding the little air you had left in your lungs. His hips never stopped their impulses, still grinding relentlessly against you.

You were whimpering and babbling deliriously like a broken record. You couldn’t see clearly, your pleasure-induced haze clouding any semblance of thought. Your vision was blurred by the constant tears you were shedding.

Bill groaned hoarsely as he continued to thrust into your overstimulated body, his hips snapping against your ass without stopping. The tightness of your pussy around his cock had him approaching his own orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter and his thrusts disorganized.

Without holding back any longer, Bill sank his fangs into your shoulder, causing you to let out a shrill cry. Around his blood-filled mouth, he groaned loudly as he came, his hips still moving as he painted your pussy with his cum. Some of it leaked out with each thrust of his cock, the squelching noises sinful and filthy. His hips soon stilled, flushed against your ass.

You passed out the moment Bill removed his fangs from your neck, the pleasure too much for you to handle. Bill just laughed hoarsely, his hair disheveled and his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. After so much time waiting and watching you. You had finally said yes to him. Now you were all his, flesh, blood, and soul.

[ktaerssoi]

caught lacking

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you get caught watching edits of paige.

notes: not proof read.

you had been getting edits of the team for a while, most of them were pretty cool and you liked to interact with the fans. that being said, some of the paige edits had you thinking about her more often.

you were in the weight room with ice, you had taken a little water break while she went off to finish some set. you hadn't noticed her walk over to you until you heard her laughing. you turn around quickly, shutting your phone off as you began to get flustered.

"it was on my for you page! it's not like i looked it up!" you were tryijng to defend yourself but you weren't helping much. "well your for you page is based off of things FOR YOU, so girl if you think paige is fine just come out and say it." ice smirks at you as you cross your arms, waiting to hear your confession.

"she's pretty yeah, but i wouldn't get with her. we're friends." you weren't even convincing yourself at this point, you knew you were in for it. "listen just please don't tell anyone else on the team, please."

because you have the best luck ever, paige, nika, and kk all walked into the weight room as you were speaking. your team was a nosy to say the least, so you weren't shocked when you heard "girl boo, i want to hear! you gotta tell me"

you shook your head at kk, sighing as you heard her start to complain about being out of the loop. you tense for a moment as you feel an arm around your shoulder but quickly relax when you realize its just paige, ice giving you a very obvious look.

kk, being the annoyingly observant idiot that she is gasps as she puts the pieces together. "finally!" paige and nika look over confused from the conversation they were having, and your face is paling considerably.

"kk bro shut up, its not what you think it is." you brush her off, going to focus back on whatever paige was talking about but she had taken her arm away confused. "wait what? i don't get it? what can't me a nika know?"

paige looks a tad betrayed, as if you holding information from her was a devastating loss. "it's nothing P, kk is just getting a head of herself." paige narrows her eyes at your excuse, not quite buying it.

"mhm okay," she goes back to whatever and it seems the topic is dropped.

-

a few days later you had gone out to dinner with the team, everyone had gotten up to get drinks but you, leaving you to entertain yourself for a minute or two. you pull out your phone, opening tiktok and seeing edits of paige and kate martin on your screen, scrolling for a little you find a weirdly entrancing edit of paige.

"hey, i know you said you didnt want a drink but i got you a dr. pepper.." paige's voice trails off as she notices clips of herself on your screen. you jump at the sound of her voice, causing you to drop your phone, the phone that it still playing once paige picks it up.

"i swear that was random, i almost never get those." you hurry to explain yourself, but are quickly cut off by paige. "dude, if you think i'm going to judge you based off the edits you watch of me, then yiou have never seen the ones of you. i mean seriously, you look good."

you nod at paige's words, a bit dumbfounded that the girl you had been slightly obsessing over just admitted to watching tiktok edits of you. "well, sounds like we should both get one of those privacy screen protectors." she laughs a little, nodding.

"also, um, sorry if this is weird but would you want to catch dinner some time? like just the two of us?? it doesn't have to be a date or anything," you cut paige out of her ramble, nodding as the team returned.

"sure P, just text me."

[thepastdied]

No Filter p.2

Eddie munson × fem!reader

S M U T. MDNI. 18+. EIGHTEEN. PLUS. GOT IT!?

Word count: 2.7k

previous part <--

You stood in your kitchen with a fresh cup of punch in your hand. You trailed inside shortly after Eddie left to the bathroom, desperately needing a cold drink to calm your nerves. You winced with each sip of your drink, wishing you just opted for a beer instead. 

Eddie had been gone for not even ten minutes and you tried to not think about what he was doing in there. Maybe he was kidding about jerking off? He definitely didn't seem like it. You looked down at your cup and ran your fingers through the droplets of condensation.

Meanwhile, Eddie was sitting on the bathroom floor, legs spread out and hand still on his belt buckle.

"This is ridiculous…" He mumbled. 

He couldn't get his belt undone.

Eddie had busted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, ripping away at his belt so he could bust a quick one. And it's already been five minutes with no luck.

He palmed himself through his jeans and whined, closing his eyes and laying his head on his shoulder. His hands felt like jelly, fingers unable to loop into his belt and unravel it.

He groaned and smacked a hand on the floor before gripping his hands onto the sink and clumsily pulling himself up.

Eddie stared at himself in the mirror for a second, mouth formed into a small o and eyes squinting.

"You.." He pointed at himself. "are hot." He leaned forward and kissed the mirror before cackling. "She totally thinks you're hot…"

He let out an exaggerated sigh before fumbling with the door handle, pushing his weight on it a little too hard as the door swung open. He tripped forward and caught himself, breathing out a puff of air in relief.

You saw a glimpse of Eddie walk by the kitchen doorway as he exited the bathroom, quickly following him and grabbing his hand.

His head whipped around so fast that he winced and held his head, blinking a few times.

You giggled, slapping his arm when his eyes focused on you and he whistled, dramatically looking you up and down.

"Well hellloooo-"

"Eddie… no more drinking." You sternly held eye contact as he nodded and a smirk appeared on his lips.

"I mean it, Munson!"

"Okay, okay… jeeeeeeez.." He held his hand you weren't holding up and pulled you toward the front door.

"Wanna go for a walk with you…" He leaned his head down toward you, swallowing down a laugh when he saw some pink spread across your face.

The night breeze felt cool against your hot face and you took a few deep breaths. You were itching to talk about earlier, but should wait until the morning. But you really.. really wanted to-

"So you're crushin' on me, huh?" Eddie grinned and bumped his arm against yours, swaying your hands back and forth and bouncing his feet with each step.

You scoffed and looked away from him, your eyes trailing along the many cars parked along the secluded street. The houses were pretty far apart, only lining one side of the street. 

"I mean, that's fine if you are.. cause I'm totally crushin' on you too." He laughed from his throat, smiling wide and feeling giddy.

You stopped walking and pulled him from the street, standing more toward where the cars are parked near the trees.

"Eddie…" You bashfully smiled and looked at him through your eyelashes.

"y/n…" He said back, tone mimicking yours and eyelashes batting.

He held both of your hands and pulled you a little closer, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

"Yeah.. you could say I've been crushin' on you. I didn't know you…" You shut your eyes and sighed. "I feel bad, Eddie. I didn't know you felt the same way. I kinda just… ruled it out-"

"Well.. I have, sweetheart. For a while actually.." He cleared his throat. "I uh…" His head tilted back as he looked at the night sky, trying to give his head a moment so he could speak clearly. His mind was still fuzzy.

"Since Robin and Steve introduced us at the Hideout…" He smiled and you watched the stars sparkle in his eyes as he observed them.

You were in awe and couldn't speak, so he continued. 

"Never felt that way before… God, you looked so damn pretty."  Eddie's eyes trailed down to you, head still leaned back.

"You were wearin' that light blue sundress… hah, stood out like a fuckin' sore thumb in that place."

"Eddie…" You whispered, biting onto your bottom lip as you felt your eyes sting and warmth spread across your chest.

"I didn't think you'd like someone like me.." You looked down and played with his rings.

"Why wouldn't I!?" He scoffed, eyes narrowing. 

"Because I'm not that very pr-"

"If you say it, I'm gonna…" He pursed his lips and frantically looked around before spotting a tree branch and ripping a few leaves off. "- I'm gonna shove this in your mouth." He raised his eyebrows, waiting to see if you dared to even finish your sentence.

He hated when you talked bad about your appearance, because he loved absolutely everything about you. He just never got to say it with each time you'd complain about an outfit or how your hair was styled that day. 

Your eyes widened and you watched him as he stilled, waiting for you to speak with a face that said 'don't test me'.

"Because I'm- hey!!" You squealed when he lunged forward, covering your mouth with your hands and giggling as he grabbed you.

You bumped into one of the cars and Eddie grabbed your waist to steady you, both of your laughs bubbling in your chest.

"Ahhh you're just so dang cute, look at you.." He moved one hand from your waist and pinched your cheek.

You groaned and shoved your face into his chest. Eddie hummed and placed a hand onto the back of your head, intertwining his fingers in your hair. You pulled your head up, chin still resting against his chest, gazing at his lips. 

"You hungry or somethin'?" He snickered at you before you rolled your eyes and sat back against the car.

"Kinda.." You mumbled while glancing at his lips again, immediately feeling your ears get hot at your boldness.

He smirked, scrunching his nose before leaning down and lightly pecking you on the lips.

"Sorry, sweets. Gonna have to pay up if you want somethin' real." He crossed his arms and winked, eyes lazy and smile lopsided. 

You frowned at him before going on your toes to kiss his cheek, feeling his lips pull into a grin.

You pulled back and looked at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the other side. You rolled your eyes and kissed the other side just before he grabbed your jaw and crashed his lips to yours. 

He was, somehow, really good at kissing for someone who was inexperienced. He knew exactly what to do, and it made you so fucking wet when he ran his hand down your wide so rest just above your ass. You could taste the alcohol still strong on his tongue.

Eddie moaned into your mouth when you pulled his hair at the base of his neck, dragging him down closer to you as he roughly grabbed your ass. You shifted on your feet to rub your thighs together, your wetness already soaking through your panties. He shoved himself further against you and you could feel his dick pressing painfully against his jeans. You whined when he kissed down to your jaw and your ear, his hips moving into yours as you lifted one leg.

"Oh fuck-" He groaned and grabbed onto your thigh that was hiked up on his waist before aggressively picking you up and sitting you down on the hood of whoevers car that was.

"I'm gonna fuck you- right on this car.." He chuckled as he sloppily kissed your neck and fumbled with his belt.

All the air that was in your lungs was sucked out. God, you ached so, so bad. You could have came just from the view- his hair was a mess, lips swollen, face slightly pink, leather jacket hanging off one shoulder, and his t-shirt all stretched from you grabbing at it.

"Stupid fuckin-" 

You leaned forward and swatted his hands out of the way, fervently undoing his belt and reaching your hand into his pants, palming him through his boxers a bit before dipping your fingers into the waistband.

Eddie slumped forward and loudly slapped his hands on the hood of the car, arms caging you in. His face was just inches from yours, eyes screwed shut as you began to pump him.

"I-if you keep doin' that I might… Uhhh fuck.. might cum.." He panted as you gave him a few more strokes.

He pulled away from you and scowled when you seductively laughed and nibbled his neck.

"Fuckin minx-" He grabbed your legs and pushed them up onto the car, spreading your thighs open before shoving his face into your pussy.

You shrieked and grabbed onto his hair, body falling back onto the hood of the car. He hushed you before his fingers pulled your panties to the side, mouthing and licking at your pussy like he was depraved. You covered your mouth with one of your hands to muffle your moans, thighs trembling as he smoothed his hands over your thighs and groaned into you.

He pulled back and lifted his shirt to wipe his mouth. You swallowed when your eyes raked down his bare torso before meeting his eyes as he hovered over you.

"Gotta make this quick, baby… don't know who's car this is." He huffed a nervous laugh and yelped when you pulled him into you by his jacket, exploring his mouth with your tongue as he groaned.

You reached down to his dick again and slid yourself down, rolling your hips against his leaking tip. He grunted when you took the tip in.

"W-wait. I don't have a con-"

"Birth control." You mumbled against his mouth before taking him in, wanton moans coming out of your throat.

"Oh oka- Holy fuuuuuuck." He choked out a groan and dropped his face into your neck, panting with each roll of your hips.

Eddie suddenly felt self conscious. He didn't know what to do. What if he thrusted the wrong way? Was he too small? Maybe he should just eat you out instead. Wait- unless he's bad at that too. This is a bad idea-

"y/n…" He whimpered.

"F-feel so good, Eds… so deep.." You grabbed onto the back of his neck, sultry moans coming out of your lips right in his ear.

"Yeah..? Y-you like it? Really?" He perked his head up, some confidence pooling in his chest as he let out a low, rough moan that bubbled out from his chest. He roamed his hands around your body, grabbing at your tits and sucking on the swell that popped out of your bra.

"Ah.. God… uh-huh… love it." 

Eddie pulled his body away from you, your arms moving down to his forearms as his fingers dug into your hips. He slowly grinded against you, watching as your face twisted when you panted and moaned his name. 

He clenched his jaw as he sharply fucked into you. You yelped in pleasure and he stilled, arms trembling before he did it again, and again, and again.

"It's s-so wet… all f'me? — uh-huh? God… ohgodohgod— fuck.. you love it–" He purred.

"Shit i-... Jesus I t-think I'm close–"

"Wrap your legs around me, baby"

"F-fuck you're so b…beautiful"

The car was rocking back and forth, squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock into you. He grunted, and groaned, and growled. His erratic breathing matching with yours, it was a great sight. You were so, so close.. 

"Eddie you're.. so, s-so good… I wanna.. ughhh wanna cum on your— ohh-" You felt the coil tighten.

"Oh.. my… god.. you- you just got so tight–" He rasped, breath getting caught in his throat and eyes widening. 

Eddie's thrusts got sloppier the closer you got to your peak, his erratic breathing abruptly stopping before he fell forward and began relentlessly fucking you through both of your highs.

He gasped out a strangled moan as he rocked the car back and forth, your legs wrapping around his waist as you mewled and babbled praises into his ear.

"Please…tell me that this isn't a dream.." He mumbled, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. 

His chest heaved as his body went limp on you, face nuzzling into your neck and kissing a trail up to your lips. 

"It's very real, Eds. You just drank like.. a lot." You snorted out a laugh and kissed his chin as he grinned at you. 

"Still feel all fuzzy n'shit.." He hissed as he pulled out of you. 

He pulled off his jacket and used the black and red plaid undershirt to stop the cum from dripping from your thighs. You twitched when he touched your leg and he looked at you, panic apparent on his face.

"No-no it's fine. Just sensitive.." You waved your hand and smiled when his face twisted into realization, nodding as he cleaned you up.

Eddie hummed as he leaned into you, a dopey smile on his face as you grabbed his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Your fucked out face is s'pretty~" His eyes sparkled as he looked down at you, your hands still on his cheeks.

You scrunched your nose and jumped when you heard a loud laugh, whipping around to see Robin walking down the street in your direction, yelling a way too loud "bye bitch" to Steve.

Eddie's eyes bulged out as he quickly smoothed out your dress and threw his jacket back on, bunching up the shirt he used as a cum rag and stuffing it under his arm. 

"Oh- Hey guys!" Robin waved over to you as she came up to the car, pulling out her keys.

"I-is this… your car?" You slowly lifted your hand and pointed to the vehicle.

"Yep! You know how I finally got my license last month? Welp- finally got this bad boy. Was gonna surprise you-" She slapped her hand on the roof and smoothed her hand over the surface, looking at it fondly and smiling to herself.

"It's awfully squeaky– ow!"

You elbowed Eddie in the ribs before pushing him aside to walk over to Robin, casually talking to her about the car before she made her departure.

" 'It's awfully squeaky'– really?! " You stomped up to him and bit your cheek when he doubled over, cackling like it's the funniest thing in the world. 

"You're… so weird." You cringed at him before grinning ear to ear.

"Mhm…" He sighed dramatically and stretched his arms, looking at the sky and then down to you, and then back to the sky again.

"Can't believe that out of aaaaaaaall these stars, I got the best one." He gave you a silly smile and poked your nose before kissing it.

You whined at his cheesy-ness before giving him a quick kiss and pulling him back toward your house.

"We should shower once everyone leaves… all sticky and sweaty and yucky-"

"We?" His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as you nodded and smirked.

He let go of your hand and started running up the walkway and into your house.

"Alright everyone! Party is over! Get the fuck out!" His arms were sweeping across the air in the direction of the front door.

You gaped at him and put a hand to your head.

"Eddie!?" 

"You got like- 10 seconds!"

"Come on, come on, yep, move your legs- that's what they're for–"

Everyone filtered out of your home as you stood there in shock, watching as Eddie bowed at the front door before slamming the door shut and spinning on his heels to face you.

"Let's take a shower, sweetheart." He smugly smiled as you licked your lips.

×

Taglist:

@thegirlthatsfalling @hahahafucku @bibieddiesgf @chrissymjstan @eddiesprincess86 @tatianah26

Uhm sorry to the several people I couldn't tag- couldn't find the username

[samodivaa]

┊Knife Practice┊

Bucky Barnes x Reader Such a tease you are, poking his mind with a cold metal rod—he can't concentrate when you play dirty.

Warnings - knife kink, smut, oral (m), p in v, slight choking Words - 1400 ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ Getting involved—on a physical level, during training—was a colossal blunder—he tried to observe the patterns of his mistakes to see if they were products of some kind of weakness—it’s you, teasing him is his greatest weakness. There is raggedness of his breaths due to fighting you, due to the knife you are pressing at his crotch. Bucky is in a sitting position and his hands are planted firmly behind him trying to support his weight, trembling—as your legs dig into his thighs—you are greatly excited to toy with him, though you look resolute. “I shouldn't have expected less of you than to play dirty, should I?” Reluctantly you lift your eyes to his, pressing the dull side of the knife more.

“Damn it” his voice sounds as though he wants to moan, but is doing his utmost to control it. “What is wrong, darling?” you ask before laughing, seeing Bucky’s flushing crimson. There is no way he can reclaim his dominance now—not that he wants to. You lean in, but Bucky doesn't pull back, and you take that as a sign of acquiescence for licking his neck, pleasure zingers across his skin and he shamelessly turns his neck to give your mouth better access. The knife outlines his cock with light pressure, rubbing the fabric to the head and you smile against his skin in delight at the dampness starting to rise to the gray fabric. You pull back and slowly cut through his pants—the sound of ripping is sinful, a soft invitation to madness, generally a tipping point into insanity. “Fuck,” he moans, staring down “Enough” “If you don’t like it, why are you hard?” Your fingers ghost over the marks covering his neck, his eyes locked on yours wide and wild, nostrils flaring. He stares at you, completely stricken, all he can do is whine softly, defeated and utterly annihilated by your words. You touching him fills him with amazement, purely animal, you let your body act before your mind. 

You throw the knife to the side, hands freeing his rigid member, slick and sticky drips of pre-cum covering the tip. He doesn't look at you, instead choosing to focus on the knife for a moment, wishing that you use it more, but you pull him on shore of a new and better sanity when you put his member into your mouth, hands grip his thighs harshly, a moan escapes his chest. Cool, metal fingers brush your sweaty hair aside and tuck the strands behind your ear before carding fingers through your hair. You don’t stop; there is no delay when the length hits the back of your throat, your gag reflex non-existent. The taste of him leaves you burning as your lips glide along his cock faster, throat muscles clamping around the tip of his dick—he is powerfully conscious that you are not in any predicament. “God, yes” He hisses out, voice a crackling mess of plea and need, heat beginning to thrum beneath his skin as he feels himself getting closer, exerting a bit of force on your scalp with slight tugs on your hair. Dominance. Control. These things are the roots of Bucky’s character. And it is your duty to defy his dominance and to challenge his control. What a languid woman, a force of gravity by which you irresistibly attract his submission sometimes—fuel a new side to him. You are lovely, vaguely threatening—the obsession with knives is something that you carry from the dreadful past. He lets out another strangled noise, hips trying to jerk into your hold, but you keep them steady to the ground. “Please” he moans, low and drawn out, voice already wavering with frustration “I’m so close, snezinka” choking the words out. Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour. The pleasure stops and when Bucky opens his eyes, you are already looking at him at eye level, blue-less eyes—because they are full of lust—burning just as much as yours. Your gaze is so intense that he wants to look away—or never look away, he can’t decide. “Please?” you breathe after a few seconds of stunned silence. He suddenly cups your face in his hands—a kiss is a lovely trick designed to stop speech when words become unnecessary—the kiss starts softly then slowly builds in intensity, his mouth lingering on yours, teeth grazing your lower lip, making you shiver. His hands move from your cheeks to your shoulders and then down to trail across the expanse of your back before pulling back to look at you. Bucky’s eyes undress his unrevealable needs “Ride me” Your eyes narrow slightly as you process the words. Such divine orbs—not just one shade of color, but... many, with a hint of mischief glimmering. Then something unexpected happens. You suddenly get up, fumbling your way out of your pants and underwear. You shuffle up over him, knees spread around his thighs, and you slowly lower yourself to sit on him, shifting your hips back and forth until the firm length of his cock settles just so in the cleft of your pussy. You let out a needy whine, hands making a home out of the crook of his neck—holding your breath, savoring the sensation of every time you grind against his cock. “Oh, come on, fuck” he moves his hands to your hips, squishing slightly, urging you forward, guiding you up and down his length. As his breaths become labored, there is a in a crack in his persona— “Please, just-fuck me” His voice is a near-moan, and bearing witness to his desperation is all you want.

You gulp, voice breathier than you like as you whisper “Okay” folds flutter as you’re parted by his length, making the cutest mewls as you ease his cock into your cunt, slowly.

His arms encase themselves around your waist, pulling you downwards, burying himself to the hilt. You let out a pleasured cry as he sinks into you, his name slipping from your mouth so fondly, so tenderly that he has to stop your mouth with a kiss as you twine your arms around his shoulders.

You need to regain some control—that’s why you set an unrelenting pace.

And all Bucky can do is leer at your tits as they bounce with every thrust. He squirms with every uneven thrust, your breath growing erratic and his groans growing louder.

Eye contact. There is more in the eyes. More longing. The naughtiness emanates from your eyes—you look at him like you own him. He can feel he is nearing his climax but closes his eyes, trying to restrain himself.

„James“

His name comes on a long-winded breath. To his horror, his body responds in obvious pleasure, his entire body shuddering in spite of his mental denial—having the faintest clue how you do it, and he feels your month against the skin of his throat, licking, sucking, and kissing not holding back your throaty moans.

“Come with me, baby” you whisper softly against the shell of his ear, nibbling at the earlobe.

„I-I will-…soon…“ he groans the words out, only adding to the erotic undertone of his words.

Heat shots through his spine. His muscles clenching as you move up and down his length, your velvety walls sealing around his member, enveloping him perfectly in its embrace. You whine, lower lip quivering as he slowly wraps his hand around your neck, the cold touch makes your body shiver as warmth seeps into you, flooding your insides white.

The motion of his metal hand elicits a loud groan from you, and Bucky captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling you by the grip on your neck. Your walls clench as your orgasm abruptly erupts and he continues to thrust through your orgasm as best as he can.

He leans in, chasing his lips across your collarbone as his hands gently stroke down your back, your arms.

To allow yourself to trust another person is no small risk, after everything that you've been through. Allowing yourself to be exposed, vulnerable—it is incredibly intimate to Bucky.

“I am taking your knife away for a week” he murmurs into the flesh above your breasts, warmly and good‐humoredly.

“But I have a whole collection” you snap irritably, but then you suddenly smile proudly.

[bluginkgo]

Ep 8 Thoughts and Details Part 2

Some thoughts and details I had while watching ep8, and some parallels I found. And yes, I had to split this into 2 parts because Tumblr said "fack you, you can only upload 30 images :P"

Spoilers, duh

Didn't see part 1? Here it is, cause Tumblr doesn't like more than 30 images per post TwT

OMG YOU SILLY GOOBERS, AND THE WAY UZI INCLUDED V DESPITE V NOT EVEN WANTING TO BE PART OF IT TwT

As much as this entire scene was tense about Uzi eating the AS and becoming fused with it- this frame, this facking frame killed me XD Just the D: WHAT ARE YOU DOING- WHY DID YOU DO THAT- I could hear it clearly XD

Could probably be me looking too far into it, but another call back from Liam's first teaser of Murder Drones.

As many people as I have seen being upset with how this reunion turned out to be, I found it adorable and funny. Khan has no idea what that thing even is. And the fact that Nori isn't as cool and serious as she was made out to be in all of the flashback scenes and ep7 is that much more endearing. The angsty side of her is still there, much like Uzi's personality of not really liking close heart to heart moments.

KHAN IS NARUTO RUNNING???? XD

Originally pointed out by @/observer on twitter and absolute scoliosis lives on XD As well as the T-rex stance <:3

God forbid I love this trio. They've been through so much and still came out victorious after fighting a whole ass eldritch being capable of eating planets. V still V but softer and kinder, N still N but more willing to stand up for himself, and Uzi still Uzi and angsty rebellious teen that has an awesome new eye style and friends and family.

"Forget about all of this instantly, get tunnel visioned on spooky corpse robot reveal. Work backwards from there."

You know, I had a silly thought. I wouldn't even be mad that this is how Murder Drones came to be. That Liam's idea of Murder Drones started with the reveal of Cynessa entity and then worked backwards from there- creating the characters to surround the event instead of starting with say Uzi's personality, etc.

VIZZY MY BELOVED WHAT-

You know what... you know WHAT I SAW THIS SOMEWHERE-

Proceeds to connect the dots that aren't even there (Murder Drones Intermission by @/ghoulinfuschia)

But hey, that's what my brain loves to do. But funny how it turned out to be somewhat similar XD Perhaps the context was different but the fact that my brain said "hm, yes, you connect this here and that there." and I just rolled with it TwT

Overall, I genuinely loved the entire episode and, of course, the series. I'm eternally grateful for Liam creating this masterpiece and for every person that took part in creating Murder Drones. This show was the hyperfixation I needed, the thing that I've craved since being in the fandom that I had been for the longest time prior. I'm sad to see this show end so soon, but all great things must come to an end. And I'm glad I was here to see it, even if I was here since ep6 only TwT Either way, I will be haunting this fandom with my presence for a little longer while. Many projects I want to see happen, comics I wish to share, and friends I wish to meet. Until then, see you later >:P

Have a cookie for making it this far XD 🍪

[femininenachos]

Thank you so much Queen for the vacation au update, much appreciated 🫡 Clarke is a lot of talk no action w that p eating tho

Ye of little faith…

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Once again, Clarke finds herself led by the hand through a warren of side streets, the irregular-shaped stone paving burning beneath the cork soles of her flip-flops. She’s still flying high from the exhilaration of the boat trip, but between the blistering afternoon heat and the effects of low blood sugar, she feels flushed and a little light-headed.

As though she read Clarke’s mind, Lexa pulls them to a stop under the shaded awning of an unassuming bakery. The aroma of freshly-baked bread, hot out the oven wafts from the open doorway. 

Lexa tips her head in invitation. “Want to grab a bite to go?”

“You did make me work up an appetite.”

And if things shake out like Lexa implied back at the cove, Clarke will definitely need to carb-load for what lies ahead.

They trade smirks as Lexa tugs them over the threshold. 

If it’s oppressively hot outdoors then it’s like stepping into a blast furnace inside. Even so, Clarke is drawn straight away to the pastries and savoury treats in the display counter. Emerging noisily from somewhere out back, a great, bearded bear of man enters carrying a large tray of bread rolls. He sets them on the cooling rack before ambling over, a broad smile in place.

“Leksa! Ha yu?” He glances between the two of them, a kind twinkle in his eyes. “Chon ste oyu brana lukot?”

“Dishe ste Klark.” Then in English, “Clarke, meet Gustus. My uncle.”

“Aulana?” He scrutinises Clarke for a second, an eyebrow going up. “American?”

What gives it away, she wonders, a little paranoid that she has a neon sign above her head that screams ‘obnoxious Yank’ in star-spangled red, white and blue.

Still, she pastes on her most winning smile, keen to make a good impression.

“Thanks for letting us borrow your boat this morning. We had such a great time.”

He says something in his own language, most of which Clarke doesn’t catch except “sadrona” (which she makes a mental note to look up later online), but she observes with interest that Lexa’s eyes slide away to fixate elsewhere while a rosy tint stains her high cheekbones.

“What can I get for you?” He directs the question at Clarke, his voice a warm rumble.

She adjusts the sunglasses perched on the top of her head and peers at the array of delicious-looking bakes through the glass. “Hard to choose when it all smells so amazing.” 

“Try the fleivatous,” Lexa suggests. “It’s a Polisian speciality, and my favourite: a flatbread stuffed with spices, nuts and dried berries.”

“Can’t beat that glowing recommendation.”

Gustus loosens a chuckle. “Lexa has always had a sweet tooth.”

“That’s not all that’s sweet about her,” Clarke says, low enough only for Lexa to hear. Secretly pleased when Lexa’s face reddens further.

To Gustus, Clarke says: “I’ll take two slices, and a couple of...” She points at a stack of parcel-shaped golden pastries with a beautifully shiny glaze. “What are these?”

”Fetabeik. Phyllo pastry layered with cheese.”

“Oh, yum. Yes, please.”

“I like this one, Lexa,” Gustus says with a wink as he boxes the pastries together.

Lexa sends him a forbidding look that only results in a hearty laugh. For her part, Clarke feels weirdly at ease and unflappable in the face of this man’s gentle ribbing. It’s all she can do to stop herself from beaming at the scowl on Lexa’s face. 

“How much do I owe?” Clarke asks.

Gustus holds up his palms, backing away. “No charge.” She opens her mouth to protest, but he waves her off, saying, “No, no. I insist. Just be good to my niece and that’s payment enough for me.”

“Uncle,” Lexa says, groaning.

She snatches the box off the counter and grabs Clarke’s hand too. “We’re going now.”

“Bye!” Clarke tosses over her shoulder with a small wave but she’s already halfway out the door, his laughter trailing after them. 

“He was nice,” she says with an impish grin as they continue walking.

Lexa’s lips are pursed, but she says nothing. So Clarke bumps their shoulders and squeezes the fingers entwined with hers. Wraps her free hand around the bend in Lexa’s arm, stroking the soft, warm skin beneath her thumb. “Has anyone ever told you you’re cute when you’re embarrassed?”

It earns a grudging sigh, but then Lexa glances at her and relents. She rolls her eyes a little. 

“Wait until I visit you in DC and the shoe will be on the other foot.”

For a moment Clarke imagines introducing Lexa to her own nearest and dearest and how that might go. It doesn’t fill her with as much apprehension as she might expect.

“No risk of running into my family there. My mom teaches at Cornell in upstate New York and my dad’s in Texas for work. They divorced when I was a kid.”

Lexa offers a soft look of sympathy that Clarke meets with a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine. Fortunately, it was amicable.” She pauses. “I mean, it was still confusing and upsetting for me as an eight year-old, but they’re the best of friends now. Both remarried. We spend Thanksgiving and the holidays together.”

“So… what I’m hearing is I should come in late November or December.”

Clarke’s mouth twists. “Do you crack under interrogation? Because my mom won’t give you an easy time.”

“Parents adore me. I’m polite and respectful and very attentive to their daughter.”

“‘Attentive.’” She eyes Lexa amusedly. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

~*~

At the farthest edge of the town new residential developments have sprung up, modern buildings that are more or less in harmony with the surrounding traditional houses: all whitewashed walls and cobalt blue shutters, the flowering hanging baskets that frame the doorways providing vibrant pops of colour in purple and pink. A backdrop of rugged, scrub-covered mountains looms in the distance while a slice of jagged coastline is visible to the west, and it all feels pleasantly removed from the historic quarter where the tourists flock in their droves.

“Here we are. This is my home,” Lexa says, nodding toward a two-storey apartment block.

“Any roommates?”

“No, I live alone.”

“Good.” 

The look they exchange makes Clarke’s skin prickle and her pulse kick up a notch. 

They climb the stoop and two flights of stairs and Clarke follows Lexa inside. The place is small, the kitchen opening out into a sparsely furnished lounge area, but the high ceilings and sunlight flooding in through the double aspect windows gives it a bright and airy feel. The kitchen window is cracked open, just enough to allow a faint sea breeze in, and the wind chime that dangles above it tinkles musically every now and again.

“Sorry about the mess,” Lexa says, putting the pastry box on the counter. 

There’s a solitary coffee mug by the sink with a spoon in it—rinsed out already. Try as she might, Clarke can’t pick fault or see anything else that’s out of place. 

“If this is what qualifies as quote-unquote mess then I’m doing adulthood all wrong. My apartment looks like a bomb site compared to yours.”

“Blame military service. Some parts of the regimented lifestyle are difficult to let go.”

“Now you’ve got me picturing you in uniform, and I’m not mad about it.” 

A coy little smile sits on Lexa’s lips, and the sight of it propels Clarke forward. She crosses the tiled floor to wordlessly crowd Lexa against the counter and kiss her, both hands gripping the back of her neck as they open their mouths. Warm, sure hands roam down Clarke’s sides to grasp her by the hips and before she knows it, Lexa has her spun around. 

Pinned between the counter and Lexa’s frame, back to front, Clarke feels humid breath ghost over her ear, her neck, the join where it meets her shoulder, lips hovering close yet still withholding, and it’s enough to make her knees buckle slightly.

She reaches behind to guide Lexa’s mouth back to hers, greedy for more. A blissful sigh escapes when Lexa runs her palms up, curving around her breasts, only for Clarke to be frustrated by the inconvenient layers of cotton and spandex between them.

They need to be naked. Now. 

Driven by that imperative, Clarke twists back around and yanks Lexa’s button-down off her shoulders. The tank top swiftly follows, landing in a heap at their feet, and their lips remain fused while she walks Lexa backwards until they bump into the couch. 

Clarke shoves Lexa down and remains standing, gratified by the wide, hungry eyes staring up at her. 

Too impatient to put on a performance, she whips off her t-shirt and steps out of her shorts. They’re still caught on her ankle when Lexa grabs her by the waist, pulling Clarke onto her lap and back to her waiting lips.

While their mouths are busy, Clarke lets her hands travel over Lexa’s chest. Feeling her way. Circling hard nipples with her thumbs. A whimper catches in Lexa’s throat and it thrills Clarke to the core. The tugging ache of arousal hasn’t left her since they fled the cove and her belly twists sharply with want as she slips to the floor on her knees between the spread of Lexa’s legs. 

Clarke kisses down Lexa’s abdomen, smirking as muscles twitch and contract under her lips, still able to taste the sun and sea on Lexa’s skin. She doesn’t abandon her grip on Lexa’s breasts until her chin grazes the waistband of Lexa’s shorts and she hears the deep breath Lexa draws in, feels her tense in anticipation.

Hooking her thumbs under the elastic, Clarke looks up the length of Lexa’s body, eyes fastening on her chest and the tempting jut of her nipples. Unable to resist, she leans up and takes one between her lips. Runs her tongue around the pebbled areola. Slow swirls at first then faster as she narrows in on the tip and sucks hard. Lexa’s low groan, how she arches into it, fingers sinking into Clarke’s hair, gathering a fistful at her nape, only adds to her excitement.

She meets Lexa’s lidded gaze and the air seems to sizzle, those darkened eyes burning, hungrily watching Clarke’s every move. 

Under that rapt attention, she switches to Lexa’s other breast. Mouths all around, eyes remaining glued to Lexa’s while she licks a wet path to the straining nipple, catching it on the flat of her tongue, flicking the tip before sucking it into her mouth.

For the next long while, Clarke gorges herself on every inch of soft flesh until Lexa’s tits are shiny with saliva and a stream of breathy little moans are dropping from her lips. She keeps moving her hips, rocking into Clarke in the pursuit of friction, sighing heavily when she edges away.

Feeling much too smug about the effect she’s having, Clarke wants to grin ear to ear, but she briefly smothers her smile in the curve of one breast. Flattens her hand between their bodies and slips inside Lexa’s shorts.

They both groan as Clarke skims through the wetness, gliding over Lexa’s clit and making her hips jump.

“What do you want first?” Clarke asks, swirling the tip of one finger at Lexa’s entrance. “This or…?”

Lexa’s throat works before she replies with, “Mouth. Please.”

“So polite.”

There’s a teasing undertone, but Clarke has no desire to drag this out and make Lexa beg, not when she’s so tightly wound herself. It’s for both their sakes that she quickly shuffles to the side and tugs the shorts down Lexa’s impossibly long legs. 

Clarke can’t help but stare, soaking up the sight of all that glowing tan skin on display. In the haze of lust, she moves on autopilot. She trails her hands up Lexa’s shins to grip her knees. Gently pushes them apart and situates herself between. Her breath catches when her eyes settle low, on Lexa, wet and swollen for her. 

It’s Clarke’s new favourite view this island has to offer.

Lexa opens her legs wider.

All the encouragement Clarke needs to hook her hands under Lexa’s thighs and drag her to the edge of the couch. The air is thick with the heady, musky scent of arousal and Clarke breathes it in, filling her lungs. Powerless not to flow forward, to press her open mouth there and drink from the source.

A shiver racks Lexa’s body and she bites off a curse when Clarke’s tongue eases in. Hands tangle in her hair, winding tighter against her scalp, and Clarke relaxes her jaw to work deeper, curling her tongue to draw more wetness into her mouth, the tang filling every space as she emits an appreciative groan. Maybe it’s a product of the local diet, but Lexa is by far the best flavour Clarke has ever had on her tongue.

Pulling back an inch, she pins Lexa by the hips and licks her slowly, deliberately, dragging her tongue up to trace patterns around Lexa’s clit. She mixes firm laps with gentle suction and little nudges with her nose, sometimes lifting her mouth away just to breathe on Lexa while she strains to get closer.

All the while Lexa is practically writhing on the receiving end, gasping and stifling a moan each time Clarke presses her tongue inside, limited by its reach and the growing ache in her jaw to just a few shallow thrusts that Lexa urgently rocks down to meet. 

And when Clarke’s eyes flick up to watch, she’s mesmerised by Lexa in the throes. Her hair has dried into a mass of marvellous curls, and Clarke is wholly infatuated with it. That, and the way the sunlight pouring through the windows paints her golden skin, catching the beads of perspiration that dot her throat and chest as she arches her spine and spreads herself even wider, directing Clarke by the grip on her hair. 

Lexa’s calves tremble with exertion as she picks up the pace, her gasping breaths becoming thinner and more ragged as she chases the pleasure.

Sensing the unspoken need, Clarke reaches for Lexa’s clit, using the soft pad of her thumb to rub tight, firm circles while she extends her tongue, pushing in as far as possible. Her jaw has gone numb but she powers through, determined not to falter.

As Lexa rocks her hips and Clarke plunges in and drags back out, their eyes lock and hold. In that moment of connection, Clarke sees her name form on Lexa’s lips before she throws her head back against the cushions and stiffens sharply, shuddering into Clarke’s mouth and flooding her tongue.

Lexa is near silent for the big finish, except for the gulping breaths she pulls in as she clenches and shivers and scrapes her nails against Clarke’s scalp.

After a few more lazy thrusts, Clarke withdraws with a rude slurp and takes her thumb off Lexa’s clit. She bends close again, intending to lick up the spill, but a weak tug on her hair draws her focus up. Lexa looks dazed, her mouth hanging open as her heavy eyes search Clarke’s face. 

She doesn’t even get a chance to wipe her chin before Lexa urges her up onto her lap and into a deep and dirty kiss, a muffled groan vibrating between them. Palms scorch up Clarke’s ribs to cover her tits, kneading, teasing her nipples while she shamelessly grinds on Lexa. 

It’s good, but not enough.

Breaking off the kiss, Clarke sits back on her haunches and reaches for the top piece of her swimsuit.

“Help me out of this?”

Together, they pull it up and over Clarke’s head.

She almost laughs at the reverential look on Lexa’s face once her tits are freed, like Lexa has been blessed with the greatest gift to lesbiankind. Clarke isn’t so conceited as to believe her breasts are a quasi-religious experience, but Lexa sure makes it seem that way.

After a second, Lexa snaps out of her trance and slips her hand behind Clarke’s neck to reconnect their lips. They both whimper into the kiss as they crush closer. The graze of their nipples feels electric, lighting sparks under Clarke’s skin and sending another jolt between her legs.

The muggy heat inside the apartment is stifling by now. Their stomachs and thighs stick together, slicked in sweat, but neither are inclined to separate, locked in a fervent makeout. Clarke is breathing hard by the time Lexa rolls her over and peels the rest of her swimsuit off.

Unselfconscious, Clarke lets her thighs fall open, and Lexa needs no greater incentive to drop to her knees. A moan slips out before Lexa even puts her mouth on her, so hyper-aware is Clarke of the gentle fan of warm breath over her vulva. But at the very last second Lexa veers away to plant kisses on the insides of Clarke’s thighs and she isn’t capable of containing her huff of frustration. 

She feels the stretch of Lexa’s smile, but before Clarke can vocalise any complaints, Lexa turns her face and licks up the length of her. Unprepared for the shock of direct contact when it’s been sorely missing, her hips fly off the couch, almost colliding with Lexa’s nose.

“Oh, fuck,” Clarke croaks, a hand shooting out to clutch Lexa’s shoulder, the other grabbing a fistful of the cushion behind her head. “Fuck.”

“I will,” Lexa says, a glint in her eye when she catches Clarke’s. Then she holds Clarke down by the hip bones and lowers her mouth once more.

Clarke’s breath escapes her in a rush, eyes slamming shut. Her body reacts, engulfed by sensation. All scorching heat and the soft, wet glide of Lexa’s tongue as it weaves up through the slick, circles her clit, before dipping low to drag over her again and again, keeping Clarke squirming for minutes on end, rotating her hips in a frantic grind.  

She peels her eyes open to look, craning her neck to witness the complete and utter rapture on Lexa’s face. She’s covered in Clarke, lips and cheeks all shiny. And her tongue... Clarke shivers and clenches around nothing at the glimpse of pink muscle lapping at her with purpose, heat coiling tighter in her gut with each deft stroke. Every now and then Lexa presses inside, just far enough to make Clarke choke on a moan and rut her hips up in a useless attempt to force Lexa deeper. When Lexa retreats she uses a little less pressure on the next lick, too gentle and fleeting to give Clarke what she craves. 

“Lex,” she pants, a hint of aggravation bleeding into her tone after the fifth or sixth time it happens. She squeezes Lexa’s shoulder.

“What?” Lexa asks lightly, her parted lips brushing against Clarke so intimately that she feels the question breathed into her body.

She stifles a noise of pure need and grits her teeth.

Nearly howls when Lexa takes her mouth away.

“You only have to ask, Clarke.” Dark, dark eyes hold her gaze. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

It’s clear Lexa isn’t toying now. There’s something in the depths of her eyes that speaks of sincere devotion, like it’s her true calling and sacred duty to surpass herself and give Clarke the best damn orgasm of her life. From anyone else, that intensity might be a little frightening, but coming from Lexa? It’s the biggest turn-on, and Clarke is more than willing to put her through her paces.

She throws down the gauntlet with all the cocky confidence she can muster in her current position.

“Isn’t it about time you brought out the strap?”

~*~

The ceiling fan rattles and whirs overhead, merely stirring the soupy, sweat-saturated air around the room. Despite having all the windows thrown open, the scant through-breeze does little to alleviate the dense humidity or disperse the scent of sex that hangs potent and heavy in the air.

Laid flat on her back on twisted sheets, Clarke sweeps the tangle of damp, frizzy hair out of her face with one hand, still trying to get her breathing under control. Her chest is heaving and her thighs haven’t stopped shaking in the aftermath of their last energetic tryst, the second since Lexa brought out the harness and a sparkly purple dildo and proceeded to screw her into the mattress with smooth, deep thrusts and small, quick jogs of her hips until she came with a strangled shout. Now Clarke’s mind is mush and her body aches in the best way, worn out and thoroughly sated—for the time being, at least.

Meanwhile, Lexa is stretched out alongside, flaunting a lazy half-smile as she unbuckles the harness. The bulbous head of the toy slaps wetly against Clarke’s hip bone before Lexa scoops it up and tosses the whole kit over the side of the bed to be dealt with later. 

Propping her temple on her fist, Lexa trails her fingers down Clarke’s side, following the curve of her breast and the slope of her ribs down to the dip in her waist, retracing the same path on the return journey, and Clarke can’t control the way her body responds to the stimulus, goosebumps rising on her skin despite the unbearable heat. 

Every involuntary twitch makes Lexa’s little smirk edge wider, like she has a newfound fixation with testing Clarke’s reactions, laughing when Clarke finally squirms away from her touch.

“Are you ticklish?”

“Are you?” Clarke threatens, trying and failing not to be charmed by Lexa’s easy half grin, how she giggles and scrambles backwards when Clarke pretends to lunge. “Don’t make me fight you.”

Then she flops back against the pillows and kicks away the covers. “Ugh, it’s way too hot. I feel like I’m melting.”

“Water?”

“Please.”

Lexa slips off the bed and slinks out the room, fully nude and without a care in the world, and Clarke’s eyes stay trained on that audacious bubble butt as she goes, amazed not for the first time that Lexa is carrying all that junk in the trunk. Really, her perfect tush should be a serious contender for the number one visitor attraction in Polis. Clarke almost mourns its disappearance when Lexa turns the corner.

Left alone to examine her surroundings instead, Clarke lets her gaze drift around the room. Like the rest of the apartment, it’s neutrally decorated and spotlessly clean; everything put away. No ornaments, photographs or other personal touches that reflect Lexa’s taste except for a framed piece of art that depicts a lonely, ruined tower surrounded by lush forest. On the wall above the door hangs a distinctive ward that’s a staple of the island’s gift shops: a hand-painted stone with four concentric circles in the shape of a blue eye.

When Lexa returns from the kitchen with a large glass of water, Clarke levers up on one elbow and takes it from her gratefully. After a few greedy gulps, the cool liquid sliding down her throat, she nudges her chin toward the ‘evil eye’ symbol.

“Are you superstitious?”

Lexa joins her on the bed. Glances over her shoulder and gives a slight shrug. “It’s a peasant tradition going back thousands of years, but it doesn’t hurt to be protected from negative energy.” A faint smile graces her lips. “Especially Anya’s when I do something to piss her off.”

“I could’ve used something similar when I dropped by the taverna yesterday.”

“In her own misguided way, she tries to protect me too.”

“From who? Me?”

Lexa tilts her head side to side, neither confirming or denying. She studies Clarke for a moment, something indecipherable in her eyes. A muscle in Lexa’s jaw tightens, then she smiles again, if a touch more guardedly. “Mm. You have serial ‘heartbreaker’ written all over you.”

Clarke gapes at her, half shocked, half offended. She places the glass on the bedside table before she accidentally spills water on the mattress. 

She scoffs, “That couldn’t be further from the truth. One, because I work 80-hour weeks on average so how would I even find the time? And two—which is related to point one—the only people I meet are at the hospital, and since they’re either coworkers or patients under my care, they’re strictly off-limits.”

Lexa quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You’re a doctor?” she asks, honing in on that part and ignoring the rest of Clarke’s protestations.

She runs her eyes over Clarke, like she’s the one fantasising about uniforms now, nevermind that a lab coat, surgical scrubs and a stethoscope aren’t in the same league as combat fatigues. 

All the same, Clarke wouldn’t be opposed to some steamy ‘on-call’ room role play, which does an effective job of neutralising her outrage.

She reclines again. 

“I am. Clarke Griffin MD, vascular surgeon in-training. About to begin my fourth year of residency.”

Lexa’s eyes, which had strayed below Clarke’s neck once more—so gay, so predictable—leap back up, widening a fraction. 

“Sha?” Her gaze turns admiring. “Beauty and brains.”

“And a helluva rack, to boot.”

“The full package.”

A flush on her cheeks, Clarke accepts the compliment, enjoying the flattery.

“Sometimes I question my sanity for putting myself through the stress and the endless grind, working nights, weekends, and holidays while getting paid peanuts. Oh yeah, and not forgetting the mountain of student loan debt I graduated with from med school.” 

With a doleful sigh, she stares off into space as she contemplates the decade of loan repayments ahead of her. But she snaps out of it and brightens up. 

“Being a doctor is all I’ve ever wanted to do, though. Helping people. Making a difference in their lives.”

Silently, Lexa bobs her head in understanding, but Clarke can tell she’s slipped into her own thoughts.

“What about you?” Clarke asks in a softer voice. She picks up Lexa’s hand and plays with her fingers. “After travel and adventure, what do you dream of doing?”

Lexa lifts her shoulder and lets it drop.

“There aren’t many career opportunities here. The economy is shit, so I’d go to Barcelona or Berlin. Maybe Copenhagen.” She purses her lips as she mulls it over. “I’d like to finish my degree in Political Science. I went to university on the mainland after my year in the army, but” — a flicker in her eyes — “I had to quit halfway through.”

Clarke waits for Lexa to go on, sensing she has more to say when her face cycles through a series of complicated emotions.

“My mother got sick and I came home to help my father and Anya take care of her.” Her jaw works side to side in a microscopic movement before she swallows visibly, lashes lowering. “It was cancer.”

Clarke’s heart clutches.

“God, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”

During her rotation in oncology, she’d witnessed firsthand the devastating effects of a cancer diagnosis on patients and their loved ones; seen battles hard won and tragically lost. To think of Lexa’s mom going through that same hell, the profound emotional toll it must’ve taken on the family, on Lexa herself… Lacking the words, Clarke gives the hand in hers a gentle squeeze, hoping to convey her genuine care and concern.

It appears to shore Lexa up. Taking a fortifying breath, she lifts her eyes and offers the slightest of smiles.

“She’s better now. How do you say it?” She casts about for the translation.

“In remission?”

A nod. 

“All clear for four years. And I remained in Polis. Too much time passed for me to return to university. But… I regret not completing my studies.”

Clarke feels for her. Lexa had to put her education and entire future on hold for her family and now she’s in limbo, her ambitions unrealised, hemmed in by circumstances and an income that’s reliant on seasonal tourism. Polis is a wonderful place, but it’s too small to contain someone like Lexa. 

Before Clarke can offer any platitudes, Lexa pulls on their joined hands. “Come. Those pastries are calling to me.”

~*~

Out on the terrace, a fresh breeze brings cooler air down from the mountains. A table and two patio chairs overlook the cliffs and the shimmering expanse of sea, the water lit up in streaks of red and orange as the setting sun hangs low on the horizon, the sky a glorious haze of yellow and gold.

Wrapped only in a bedsheet, Clarke nibbles on a fetabeik, the buttery flakes melting in her mouth. She hums in appreciation.

“Good?” Lexa asks, mid-demolition of her own slice.

Clarke catches a crumb on her lip and licks it off her fingers. “So good. I’m gonna have to go back and get some for Wells and Octavia to try.”

“Your friends, are they doctors too?”

She shakes her head, no.

“I was classmates with Octavia’s brother in pre-med organic chemistry. He had a crush on me, but…” She makes a face, enough to get across it was entirely unreciprocated. “Junior year, I got introduced to O at a party on campus and we just clicked. Instant ride-or-die. Wells? He and I go way back. We grew up on the same street, went to high school together, shared some extra curriculars: mathletes, chess club. I’ve basically known him since we were rugrats and he hasn’t gotten sick of me yet.”

Lexa peers at her, nonplussed. “Mathletes?”

“It’s like, competitive math as a team sport. Facing off to solve equations against the clock.” It occurs to her that she just outed her teenage self as a giant nerd and now she has reputational damage to repair. “We won at Nationals three years in a row. Even got featured on the local TV news.”

The smile on Lexa’s face only gets bigger while Clarke digs a deeper hole for herself.

“It’s cooler than it sounds. We had jackets!”

“I’m glad to see you didn’t let the fame and accolades go to your head.”

She huffs.

Shoots a faux glare in Lexa’s direction.

“And I bet you ruled the school,” Clarke says. “Probably had that effortless, cool, collected, zero-fucks-given attitude down as soon as you could walk.” 

Lexa dips her chin, still smiling. She plucks at the hem of the loose shorts that sit low on her hips. “Honestly, I was quiet and kind of a loner. It wasn’t until I joined the swim team that I found my confidence and my people.”

Clarke taps her knuckles on the table.

“So you were a jock. Called it.”

Those abs aren’t the product of a weak workout regime.

“Years ago.” Lexa’s lips take on a proud tilt. She catches Clarke’s eye. “But I still like to stay in shape.”

Brazenly, Clarke lets her gaze travel over a trim, toned stomach up to Lexa’s snug black sports bra and the biteable lines of her collarbones. 

She casts her mind back to the two rounds with the strap and clicks her tongue. “Well, I’m no fan of the gym, but luckily sex is great cardio. So, in my professional opinion, we should do more of that.”

“How much more?”

She tilts her head, pretending to ponder it.

“Oh… a minimum of two orgasms at least once a day.”

Lexa looks at her at length.

“And when you go? How am I supposed to cope without my fix?” 

Part of Clarke dares to hope Lexa isn’t just referring to missing her body once they’re thousands of miles apart.

A hint of nerves enters her voice. “I haven’t figured that out for myself yet.”

Lexa’s eyes don’t leave hers.

“Will you stay?” Off the flash of alarm on Clarke’s face, Lexa appends calmly, “Here, tonight.”

Right.

Of course that’s what she meant. It wasn’t an invitation for Clarke to fucking emigrate.

It takes several seconds for her heart to stop pounding and the heat to dissipate from her cheeks. She weighs the options: functional air conditioning and the guarantee of a restful sleep in crisp, cool sheets at the villa versus waking up in an unfamiliar bed, sweaty, hair in her face and her nose in the crook of Lexa’s neck. 

No contest, really.

“Depends. What are you making me for breakfast?”

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (3)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Jade and Reader are finally properly interacting! For the whole chapter, too. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

The night breeze sweeps over your skin when you step outside Azul’s mansion. The moon illuminates the world tonight, and you can easily see Jade’s car pull up to the driveway. He parks it perfectly, just like everything else he does, and comes to the front door with a smile.

“Looks like everything went well.”

He walks up the steps leading to the door, stopping just one step below you. Even then, his tall figure ensures he’s slightly above eye level. He zeroes in on something on your cheek.

“Indeed,” he says, raising a hand. His bare thumb swipes gently over your cheekbone. “Excuse me. You had something on your face.”

His thumb leaves your face with a hint of something red. Barry Moore’s blood. You must’ve stood too close while Floyd was having his fun.

“Thanks,” you say dismissively.

“No need to thank me. Were you the one who personally took care of the interrogation?”

He’s talking about the physical coercion. The violence. You shake your head.

“Floyd’s doing it right now.”

He lowers his eyes, rubbing the smidge of blood between his thumb and forefinger. The thoughtful pace of the action makes you wonder if he is satisfied with something.

“That’s good to hear.”

“Floyd said the opposite. He said he wanted me to draw blood.”

“Rest assured that he is more than happy to do it instead.” He reaches out for your hand. His bare fingers handle yours like they are made of porcelain. He studies them for the few seconds you allow before pulling your hand back. “You should never have to lift a finger. Just keep making others do your dirty work. There is no need for you to dirty your hands with the blood of filth.”

That implies there are things which are worthy for you to personally dirty your hands with. You choose not to think about it. Jade’s ambiguous wording is purposeful, a habit partially caused by his enjoyment of your tendency to overthink.

You look for a way to change the topic. “I see you’ve made sure to leave your gloves at her place.”

An important plot point that ensures they meet again. A trivial accessory that can easily be replaced, which (Y/N) washes and returns to him when she runs into him again. She will take great care in handwashing the white fabric, and she will keep it with her until she finds their owner. It’s an item created for the story. Because she is sweet, because she is kind, because she is the perfect person.

“Are you upset?” Jade’s eyes curve slightly in amusement. His fingers linger by your jaw. Not quite touching you, yet refusing to pull away. “You are stating an observation which does not need to be said. It feels as though you are searching for something to say.”

“No.” You push his hand away, your bare skin touching briefly. The body temperature of merfolk is naturally lower than humans, and on this warm summer night, he stays as cool as ever against your warm palm. “Maybe you’re just not that good at talking.”

He chuckles, a low timbre that slides through the air like silk. “I will work to meet your expectations, then.”

“The conversation better not be this stilted when you’re talking to (Y/N).”

“I assure you it is not.”

“Of course.” You turn to the door, its frosted windows casting a warm glow over your face from the lights inside. “She’s basically destined to be your partner, so there’s no way you wouldn’t get along.”

“We get along.”

“I know, that’s what I just said.”

“That is not what I meant.” His hand settles on the doorknob before yours. With his chest to your back and one arm reaching around your left side, you are suddenly reminded of how large he is. Towering over you, his body surrounds you on all sides except the front, an enveloping embrace where no parts of you touch. “I was referring to you and I. Ah, unless—” his voice suddenly drips with self-pity and his arm falls away “—I was the only one who felt that way about my dear friend?”

You stare at him. A few seconds pass, and you dissolve into quiet laughter. “Right, right. Feel more sorry for yourself, maybe you’ll start crying.”

“Would you like to see it?” Jade leans into your peripheral vision, a veiled grin tugging at his lips. “I can certainly try. It would come at a price.”

“I’m not that interested, then.” You push open the door. “Let’s go. Azul’s waiting for you to use your Signature Spell on the captive.”

“Ah, the captive.” He follows you into the house. In the sudden flood of light, he seems less intense, more interested in fading into obscurity to any onlookers. Azul’s home has a few trusted employees to keep it spotless. But no matter how trusted they are, Jade dislikes being perceived unless it amuses him. He manages to do it even while being six feet tall. “Where is he being held?”

“In a dingy room in the basement, tied to a chair with a single light overhead.”

Jade chuckles into his hand. “Azul has always had a flair for dramatics.”

“I think even the kidnapping was a bit clichéd. We should’ve just had you use your Signature Spell on him after you beat him up in the alley.”

“It wasn’t mentioned in the story. And I know how much you love to follow the story to the letter.” You don’t need to turn around to know that he has a smarmy smile on his face. “After all, you asked me to lead on your good friend just to stay true to it.”

He is prodding you to observe your reaction. To see if you will get angry, or pensive, or hesitant. You look straight ahead and start descending into the basement.

“My friendship with her or your parents’ life. It’s a pretty clear choice.”

“I am sure they will be happy to hear that once they awaken.”

A pause. The words hang on the tip of your tongue. They are hard to swallow, but also hard to spit out. The latter becomes easier when you don’t think about it.

“Who’s to say? You might end up falling for her eventually.” Every step you take down the stairs feels heavy. “So far, everything in the story has come true. So maybe you really will become madly in love with her.”

Jade’s silence seems to weigh down your steps more than whatever feelings are on your mind. You wonder what expression he has on his face, but you don’t want to turn around—whether it’s for your pride or for dread of seeing something you don’t want to see, you aren’t sure.

“Do you really believe that manuscript is a reflection of things that will certainly come to pass?”

He’s dodging the topic. You hate when he’s like this. He doesn’t want to give a straight answer, so he gives a tangentially related statement or question that can be interpreted to be one. Something that gives a vague answer, but can shield him with deniability when confronted. Even so, his question is not one that can easily be ignored, so it’s hard to stick to your original train of thought.

“I don’t know. It could be a prophecy of sorts. It could be someone from the future writing down what they know happened in the past. It could even be something like a magic pen that will turn anything written with it into reality. But powers like those are, well, powerful, and not easy to find. I don’t understand why it would be used on a silly, badly written love story like that.”

“Could it be that you’re jealous?”

You furrow your brows and spin around to give him a withering glare. His smile is the same as always, but you think it reminds you of when a cat toys with a mouse.

“Don’t smile like that. It’s unpleasant.”

“I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.” He won’t. You’ve already resigned yourself to that.

“Whatever. Besides, what part of anything I just said makes you think I’m jealous?”

“It isn’t what you just said.” Your shoes clack against the floor of the basement, followed by the quiet taps of his footsteps. “You have seemed rather . . . Restless since the story started.”

“There’s a lot to think about.”

“Am I one of those things?”

“You’re the male lead. You’re one of the major things I think about.”

“I see.”

You take a glance behind you again. His smile seems less predatory now, more pleased. Is he looking for attention? Right after you internally commented on his tendency of fading into the background, too.

The truth is not something like jealousy. Or maybe it is, but in a different way than what Jade is insinuating. Something feels missing now that you know you will not talk to (Y/N) again, at least until the story ends. The story takes place from her perspective, and since it never mentions Friend A after the inciting incident, you cannot appear before her for the duration of the plot. You cannot talk to her about the sweets you ate or the cafés you’ve found. You cannot sit in her apartment and talk about nothing in particular. It’s true that you will be very busy for the next while, but you still need to get used to the sudden absence of a good friend even while she is within reach.

You can deal with it, though. Over the years of working with the mafia, you have lost your fair share of friends. At least you know you can still talk to (Y/N) when she gets her happily ever after.

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E01 - L'âme perdue

i have some thoughts, but before we get to it and explore the episode, i just wanna point out that the writing is what stood out for me. after seasons of mediocre writers and writing on TWD, it felt like a breath of fresh air. that ain't saying much, but it's a big improvement. also the cinematography, plsss!!

i will digress, this will be long, boring and full of spec for s2!!! read more after the jump...

the best part of it for me was Daryl. Daryl is finally using his words, keeping some things close to the vest he ain't no longer wearing, but he is actually speaking up, telling shit how he sees it, being his observant self, and not taking that religious crap bullshit they trying to feed him. he is also done with it all, and his goal is always and will always be getting back home.

"You deserve a happy ending, too." the ep starts with Judith voiceover, which is repeated in Daryl's feverish dream, and once again by Laurent. Carol isn't mentioned directly, but you can feel her presence throughout the episode. it's sort of a quiet energy that hangs in there whenever Daryl mentions he wants to get back home, he needs to use the radio, he needs to get to that possibly active port. and of course, her smiling face in his dream, with one of the last things he said to her "it's not like we are never gonna see each other again."

"witchy shit;" "dead priest and creepy kid," "you've been fucking with me," while putting his finger in Isa's face and storming out to borrow some cool weapons will always be hilarious to me, but it also felt like genuine Daryl is back. this is the Daryl we fell in love with. he is changed by his experiences, but he is still the OBSERVANT dude with the sass and zero tolerance for bullshit. i like this Daryl, so i will thank Zabel and Norman for bringing him back to us!

NOW let's get to the spec: i think the first episode tells us all we need to know about what is really set to happen, it's so in your face, you may not even notice and just assume they are talking metaphorically - i'm talking about the nuns, the nest, the kid, the whole conspiracy you shouldn't see coming.

for some reason it will probably never be clear, they think Daryl is the one, the messenger to deliver the new Messiah, and he's got an important role delivering the kid to the Nest, like he is the only one who can do it. i mean Isabelle watched Daryl fight and lose, and now she thinks he's Messiah's protector. PLEASE, bitch! maybe he is chosen simply because he is American, he made it across the Ocean, he must be special??? ok, i'll buy that.

now when Mother is dying she agrees Daryl is the one (to protect Laurent) and says "reasons are everywhere." YES, there's a reason Daryl had to come back to protect the kid, there's a reason he doesn't get on that boat to return home, too - and that reason is CAROL is coming. he cannot leave, she's coming to him, and i believe that TOGETHER they are the ones supposed to save Laurent.

WHY Carol, you ask? Daryl just may be to close to the Nest, their people to see them for who they are - some sort of cult who believes "the kid is the cure for a sick world," Mother's words. but how are they dangerous??

they literally tell you, if you're listening. the monk, possibly Losang, says the kid is special, says the kid is the NEW Messiah. Isabelle tells Daryl they need to take the kid there cause he needs safety, teaching and nurturing UNTIL he is ready. ready for what, Daryl asks. ready to be the new Messiah and lead the REVIVAL of humanity.

now Laurent said they had walker!Father Jean there because they were waiting for him to rise again. say what, kiddo? but Father can't rise again, cause he ain't special, he ain't the new Messiah. so there you go, i think the Nest, they're planning to turn Laurent and wait for him to RISE again (be the cure) with help from praying and poetry. maybe the good guys ain't so good.

and this is exactly why the kid is also valuable to Genet. perhaps she also wants to test whether the kid is special or not, knowing his history.

i can see Carol making it to France and figuring out their nefarious plans in like the first 5 mins. and that's why she needs to come to help save Laurent. that would pretty much bring their story full circle, and allow them to deal with the guilt and the trauma of not being able to safe loved ones.

[syrupgirl]

a/n: this one is def on the shorter side. sowy, thpider. reader is human :p

My love, my home - Spider

“Do you ever…think of Earth?”

The question stuns Spider, almost falling into the lake he had previously been observing.

His brows furrow and he turns to face you,

“What do you mean? Why would I?” To others, it would sound like he was being extremely blunt, rude maybe. But that’s just how spider spoke, straight and to the point, why dance around it?

You shrug and kick your feet a little. Ripples echo from around your feet and disturb the water sound you.

“Like, what life would be like if we were able to be taken back.” Spider has stood up fully now and still looking at you with a confused look on his face.

He sighs and moves to take a seat next to you.

“I mean…sometimes? My brain usually flicks over to my dad during that so I shut those thoughts down pretty quickly.” He laughs, but it’s strained, insincere, and you frown.

You know how Spider feels about his dad, completely against. It makes your chest hurt a bit whenever you accidentally bring anything related to him up and you watch as the grin slips of Spiders face.

Sighing, you shuffle closer to him and place a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“-no no! It’s totally fine, it’s not your fault my brain, just, goes that way. Give yourself a break.” His laugh, though small, is sincere this time and your lips curl into a smile.

Silence sits around the two of you. Nothing but the rustling of wind through the trees surrounding you and the ambience of Pandoran fauna. Eclipse won’t be for hours, but it was already starting to cool down.

Spider speaks up and you turn your head to look at him. “I do think of it, of Earth.” He keeps himself facing forward, not looking at you, not looking at anything really. Maybe he is trying to see if he can make out the distant star that is the home of your species.  “But then…All I can think about is how much I love it here. On Pandora.”

There is a lilt in his voice, something you cannot place. It’s like a certain grace or reverie. You know exactly what that feels like, you feel is every night lying in your cot looking out into the bush, every time you venture out with the Sully’s, every time you share times like there with Spider.

“It’s not like you have anything to compare it to.” You snort, knocking him with your shoulder gently and he chuckles next to you as he bumps you back.

“What I do know, is that if it’s filled with people like my dad or the people destroying my home? I don’t want it.”

You hum and then it’s quite again.

“Besides-” Spider continues, neither of you looking at each other, “-I’ve got everything I need right here.” He slowly inches his hand closer to where yours lies on the ground next to him, weaving his pinky into yours. You can he his cheeky smile from the corner of your eye and you can’t help but match it.

“Yeah?” A whisper.

“Yeah.” A promise.

[seobstarr]

ON THE COURT— 015: WOAH.

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His body struggles to move through the crowd of bodies as he makes his way to her, constantly trying to squeeze between people. “Found you!” He chuckles, taking a deep breath from all of the pushing and shoving.

“And you wanted me to dance…” She scoffs playful as the red cup lifts to her lips, Theo’s body leans swiftly over the countertop they both rested against, his forearm grazing against hers.

After a couple of minutes of painful silence his eyes dart to the ping pong table, where their classmates were. “Do you wanna go play?” He nudges her slightly to catch her attention and her head whips to focus on the activity he pointed at.

“Beer pong?” Her voice questioned

“Yeah, it could be fun!” He hoped to god she didn’t reject him, considering how all she’s been doing was sitting and observing everyone at the party

“Hmm, sure why not” Theo sighs in relief when she agrees to the offer with a light shrug and smiles, his hand interlocking with hers (making sure he didn’t touch the still wrapped one from the coffee incident) and leading her through the crowd.

Her body tensed as he gently guides her through the crowded living space, his hand tightening when it was too hard to push through the bodies. The blood rushes to her cheeks and her smile starts to become more prominent.

“Hey, Theo! Was wondering where you were” Keeho, who had just got done missing his turn, swung his arm around Theo in a childish gesture.

“Had to do something first, my bad.”His eyes dart down to the locked fingers between the both of you then goes back up to link with Theo’s nervous eyes “Hm, I see now…:

“Manager” Keeho smiles

“Hey, Kyo!” Y/n fastly waves back with her free hand

“Are you guys here to play?”

“Yeah, thought we could give it a try” Y/n says again and Theo nods.

“Cool, we just finished this round so you guys get next. Y/n, you’re on Sumin’s team. Theo, you’re on mine,” Keeho explains and Y/n quickly unlocks her hand from Theo’s grasp to walk over to the right side of the table.

“Y/n, right?” Sumin points.

“Yeah! You must be Sumin?” She nods from the introduction.

“Yup, glad to meet you! I think we have a class together, no?”

Y/n’s brain racks at the thought of her, at any familiar feeling “Introduction to Philosophy?” She questions back, the lightbulb in her head brimming with inquiry

“Yes! You sit in front of me most of the time!”

“Right, it’s good to see you!” Y/n says back, giggling a little. “These are my friends! They’ll be on our team.” she nods in solidarity as Sumin hands her a ping pong ball.

prev | m.list | next

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tags🍰: @inthesunnn @captivq @nini-04 @hopeless-romantic-mentality @222brainrot @therealbobbyshloby @miyukisv @jilxe

(pink couldn’t be tagged)

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keb notes!: BYE IM SORRY FOR SLOW UPDATES LOLLL IM SORRY YOU GUYS HAVE TO WAIT SO LONG FOR CHAPTERS

:( but senior year is NO joke (i’ve been watching one piece instead of working, i made it to timeskip :p) but i promise things will pick up from here 🫡 alsoooo after this i think i wanna make a sequel with riize, smth ab sungchan since i made him bitchless in this smau😭 AND AND AND proud to say that riize and stayc WILL be main characters in this story starting from here on out !!!

[udretlnea]

A Conundrum at Cotea Cafe

Inspired by @kunichigo (Owner of the Cotea Cafe concept. Go follow them. They're cool...!)

Prompt: A customer arrives at the Cotea Cafe just before closing time, and he brings a message.

A/N: Hey, been a while, though for those following y’all know I'm still active. Fyi btw you can expect more of these shenanigans prompts in the future; I just want to try to write for fun while getting checkpoints on my growth at the same time. Anyway, enjoy.

“Don’t go dimension hopping soon,” he said with utter seriousness. “Or else you'll end up hurt.”

You widen your eyes. Your hands suddenly felt limp as you processed the threat-no, it was a warning.

///

20 minutes earlier…

You relaxed into your seat as your eyes scanned the page in the light novel; it was about a samurai who was thrust into the future where Teyvat was taken over by a demon with a robot army. You pictured the samurai facing off against an army of Ruin machines with nothing but his magic sword. The scene felt so vivid you thought you could see it in your mind.

You turned the page to continue when you heard the bell rung. Somebody had entered the cafe!

You placed a bookmark in between the pages and got up. You stretched your legs, feeling the circulation return. Making your way to the front, you frowned.

Who could be here at this time? Last I checked, the sun was nearly setting…

When you opened the door to the dining area, you expected to see the Traveler and Paimon. A teenager in a white and gray hoodie looked at you with brown eyes. He had black hair and youthful features; he put on a friendly smile while inertinghis hands in his pockets.

“Hello po,” he said in a meek voice. “Is this…a cafe?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He put a hand on his chest. “Um, are you open?”

You smiled amicably. “Of course! Would you like to look at a menu?”

He nodded, but his hand didn’t fall to the side. “My name is…Aaron. It’s nice to meet you.”

He took a seat at one nearby one of the windows. You grabbed a nearby menu and handed it to him; while he was reading it with interest, you couldn’t help but stare at him. He didn’t appear to be from any of the nations, at least judging from his clothing. It looked like something one might wear at home. Furthermore, he seemed to know about this place despite the remoteness of this location.

“Excuse me, but do you happen to have…peach mango pie?” His question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yes! Would you like that?” He blinked shyly and shook his head.

“No. I was just curious,” he clarified. He pointed at a line of words. “I’ll have a halo-halo please.”

“Sure!” You turned towards the kitchen, deciding to pick up your train of thought after making his dish. Ten minutes later you come back with a tall glass cup full of halo-halo.

“Sal-salamat po…thank you.” He nodded to the glass. You set it down in front of him; he takes a moment to silently observe it. A happy smile slowly forms on his face. “Ah, it looks delicious.”

He gave a brief prayer before picking up the spoon and mixing it.

You decided now was the perfect time to leave him and fiddle away your time; it usually didn’t take long to finish Halo-Halo so you went back to the kitchen to reorganize.

You tidied the kitchen up by cleaning the tools you used to make halo-halo. When you just about finished, the sound of the spoon clattering in an empty cup made you look up.

“I’ve finished,” Aaron announced almost proudly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch. He put it next to his empty cup and you heard the sound of Mora clinking; he got up and turned to the door. You made your way to where he sat. The Mora pouch was moderate-sized. A quick calculation told you that he overpaid. You were about to stop him from leaving, but you saw that he was standing a couple feet from you. He looked at you as if he could peer past your mask.

“...Pardon me, but you’re like me, aren’t you.” Aaron put a hand on his hip. “You’re also a...Creator”

You felt the urge to suppress a wave of panic. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Well, they call them Creators. You probably know them as writers. Self-inserts,” he explained. He shook his head. “My apologies for the strange question, and for offending you, if I did. I just thought I finally found someone to talk to. I…can leave if you want. It’s no trouble.”

Rather than tell him to do just that, you waved him off. “It’s fine. Are you one as well?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

You examine his form, searching for anything that could tell that he’s lying. When you found none, you shrugged. “...Sure. Although I’m currently living out my cottage-core fantasy at the moment. I don’t care for the stuffy paperwork that comes with being in charge of an entire continent."

“Same. And cottage-core is cool, but I never can find the time to do that. Not that I-not that I deserve anything good,” A moment of silence passed as they let that information process. Internally, you felt a strange sense of kinship beginning to form in your gut. It was certainly strange to find another being like yourself standing in front of you, but given that he was similar, or perhaps greater in power than you it made sense to desire to travel to other branches of the SAGAU multiverse.

“Well, with pleasantries out of the way, um…I actually came here to deliver a message for you,” he said. He raised his hands in the air as if he thought it would ease the anxiety in the atmosphere. “Not-not from any of the Archons, I mean. From me.”

“Eh?” This suddenly turned interesting. What could he possibly have to tell you? He took a deep breath and stared into your eyes.

“Don’t go dimension hopping soon,” Aaron said with utter seriousness. “Or else you'll end up hurt.”

You widen your eyes. Your hands suddenly felt limp as you processed the threat-no, it was a warning.

Aaron bit his lip. His eyes darted from side to side as if he were engaged in an intense internal debate. After a couple seconds, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of flash cards. He flipped through them until he stopped at one “No, but for your own safety, I advise not traveling to other universes in SAGAU until They give you the signal that it’s safe. That's all. Thank you for your time, and the food. I hope your story has a happy ending.”

He put away the flash cards and turned around. Then, he placed a hand on the door knob. But he couldn’t leave yet, not when your interest was piqued!

“Wait,” you interrupt. He turns his head back at you with a surprised look “This…thing that’s going to happen? Call it intuition, but I can't help but feel like it'll be terrible, especially for you. Are you.. alright?”

Aaron simply smiled knowingly. His eyes were glossy. “Thank you for your concern. No, but I will be soon. Ingat po…goodbye."

He opened the door and stepped outside; just as it shut there was a flash of light. When you opened it again to look for him, Aaron was gone.

Something hung in the air, but you weren’t sure what it was. Was this regret, awkwardness, or ominousness? Perhaps it was a mixture of all three.

With nothing else to do, you took the empty glass back and cleaned it. Then you flipped the sign to CLOSED before making your way to the backroom. You reclined back into the comfy chair, settling into the plush cushion. You picked up the book, opened to the bookmarked page, and resumed reading.

///

The next day you wake up and found posters plastered in front of your door; they informed you that several AUs and ATs were missing and that creator deities had been displaced. Furthermore, it advised everyone to stay calm and continue their routines while this incident was sorted.

Suffice it to say you were grateful when the Traveler brought Paimon, Yae Miko, the Raiden Shogun, Arataki Itto, and Gorou with them. A distraction was just what you needed. They kept you busy, dodging questions and cooking them food. They left and you closed the cafe for the day.

When you woke up, the posters you collected were gone, replaced with a single white sheet of paper with the words, "THE PRIOR INCIDENT HAS BEEN RECTIFIED. THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO FOLLOWED DIRECTIONS." -M.

You wondered if Aaron was alright and if whatever happened yesterday was related to him. It was clear you weren't getting any answers soon. With a sigh, you head back into your cottage to get ready for the day.

[dadjokesbutgay]

Ok but none of the sticks would be immune to epic

(Kinda a long post, so rambles under the cut)

green starts the group obsession, he's been in his room for a few days and when someone goes to check on him he's just. full on sobbing, screaming out, "THIS LIFE IS AMAZING WHEN YOU GREET IT WITH OPEN ARMS"

within the next week, everyone on Alanspc gains a new hyperfixation

Green and Yellow notice most of the repeating motifs and melodies and love dissecting the musical to infodump on everyone else. Sec likes the animatics and all the different art styles, and will occasionally spot more details that even into Yellow and Green's theories (they're more focused on the animation part than the symbolic details, but still think all the layers and things are cool) Red's favorite songs are Ruthlessness, Remember Them, and Warrior of the Mind. The others know this because he has not stopped listening to them for weeks. Blue doesn't do the analyzing themmself, but is happy to discuss theories and observations Green and Yellow make. If either of them get hung up on what a certain repeating melody might mean, they'll often times go to Blue because of his uncanny ability to see what they've missed and give them new ideas.

they put the livestream on the big tv for a movie night and there was a full-fledged P A N I C when it went down; Yellow was trying to recommend ways to fix it through the chat, Red and Green kept screaming, "CAPTAIN!!" at the yt window as it that would make it work, Sec was just trying to help/calm everyone down, and blue was helping Sec until they smelled the burning popcorn (but afterwards, everyone was laughing about "last I checked, goddesses can't die-" being the last thing before everything stopped)

eventually, the CG get Purple and MT to try it during another movie night with everyone and they were NOT prepared, like, those two got their hearts RIPPED out

bonus - when I think everyone would cry:

MT started first during Just A Man when Odysseus mentions his son (he didn't really cry, just made a Sad Face™ and got a hug from Purple)

no one really follows suit until the Underworld Saga, when Blue hears Polities and kinda cuddles into Yellow, sniffling and saying smth like, "he just wanted Ody to be happy tho, he didn't deserve it!"

Purple tried to thug it out, but failed as soon as Odysseus's mom appeared (again, they didn't cry cry, just a few tears, but that's a lot from Purp)

Sec was sad through various points of the musical, but for some reason, the line,"every friend, I saw them die," really upset them. They can't entirely explain why, though.

Yellow got emotional during We'll be Fine at how close Athena sounded to tears

The first time he listened to it, Green sobbed almost the whole way through Thunderbringer

Red doesn't count. He cried when Polyphemus's sheep died.

[tenebrius-excellium]

[Incoherent screaming about Avatar 2 in no particular order]

W I T H  S P O I L E R S ;  O B V I O U S L Y

Neytiri’s song!!!! I connected with her so much in that moment!! What a perfect way to recapture the first movie’s events!! Also her sentiment... her love for her people... her grief. She suffers so much.

That moment where Lo’ak swims into Payakan’s gaping mouth. Whoa.

The use of the color yellow in connection with Kiri. She’s like a warm hug. I love that so much about her and about that artistic choice

Tsireya be like Metkayina’s next top model

too. repetitive! they literally used shots from the first movie...!!!

the Ikran riding was nothing short of SPECTACULAR. I could have watched that endlessly.

I don’t like the boys being “military sons” because I can’t connect with that. To me, Jake was being way too hard on them. He was mad at them the entire time, yet didn’t look out for them at all. I mean, what was HE doing during all the time the kids spent training to be underwater?? He wasn’t devising any defense tactics, he was just like absent from the plot??? He didn’t even really try to fight back too?

visuals were STUNNING, music was underperforming. It’s like they didn’t even bother to write a new score. that was disappointing...

people randomly being absent from plot describes a couple things really well

SPIDER IS EVERYTHING. I know it looks like he’s not doing anything most of the time but that’s exactly the point! He’s a stray. He serves no purpose, no one wants him, yet he exists. He spends his time watching and observing how the circumstances he grew up in came to be. It happened before his time, so he’s trying to make sense of everyone’s point of view. And then he ACTS and it becomes clear that he was never going to betray the Sullys and I’m like aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

The underwater breathing butterflies... I WANT ONE.

Poor Kiri suffers much too... I wish she got some explanations.

Neteyam’s burial... I cried. I hate that Jake was waking up to his other kids’ existence only when they lost the eldest son. I’ll say it again, Jake was being way too hard on his boys and weirdly soft with the girls. Bleh. But that “I see you” he spoke to Lo’ak...that was the beginning of something awesome. One of the few emotionally powerful moments of the film.

I love that the battle against Quaritch’s clone happened rather spontaneously like “ok then let’s get this over with” lol. Also with knives only. So intimate. The one-on-one wrestling was so much more personal than a machine gun standoff could have been!!

The Sully kids saved both their parents’ sanity and Idk what to think about that. Yes they have been through a lot. No it should be the other way round - the parents taking care of and comforting the kids that were ripped from their home.

NEYTIRI’S WRATH IS A WHOLE AESTHETIC IN ITSELF TO ME. It was unexpected but so rewarding. It makes sense to me why she would choose this and it’s epic to watch. That moment where Spider hides from her - ,,, AUUUGHHHHH

Also the moment Spider fights back with a fire extinguisher lol. I love how he has both human and Na’vi characteristics. He’s a kid of both worlds and will use the environment around him accordingly.

The moment Lo’ak woke up on Payakan’s back. Also the moment where the tulkun shoots the water fountain and Lo’ak goes like “that’s disgusting” XD

The Metkayina were suuuuuuuuper pretty!!!!!!!! Also tattooed tulkuns WOOWWW!!!!!!

I LOVED the open dislike between Neytiri and Ronal!!! RARELY do you see two women hiss at each other DUUUDE

I’m gonna be really, really honest about something and I hope I won’t track hate for it... look, the use of sign language underwater was obviously really smart. However. I would have much preferred more Na’vi being spoken instead. I felt the use of sign language was introduced too early and too prominently. Like, this could have been cool in the third movie. But I basically hoped for the entire movie to be spoken in Na’vi. I came for the Na’vi, not for sign language. Sure, it could be interpreted as naturally overwhelming to the viewer as it must have been overwhelming to the Sullys... but it should have been addressed as overwhelming then. They adapted more or less seamlessly, the audience didn’t. ...yeah.

It was so good seeing Grace again. Sosososososososo good. 

So many plot holes in the overall movie lol

I missed Norm. And Trudy. I’m really mad that Trudy died.

Having a female officer/General whatever lead the RDA’s evil campaign this time was refreshing though.

The callback to Neytiri’s arrows and that fateful day where she shot Quaritch was really great. I love how he hunted HER, too. 

Leaving all the scrap metal and the corpses from the first battle to rot in the forest felt really insulting to the planet of Pandora and to the Na’vi lifestyle though. Like... would you really want your kids to randomly stumble upon skeletons??? Sure they possibly couldn’t find every dead body to bury, and their priority must have been the Omaticaya casualties, but it seems really disrespectful to the humans AND to the forest to just... leave everything an open battlefield. I’m sure the military base could have recycled the scrap metal, using it for repairs on their technology. Since they were kinda cut off from terran supply ships now, they must have kept their breathing, living and research equipment up to date somehow. And the forest deserved to be natural/untouched again. It shouldn’t have become a constant reminder of what went down. Anyway...

At first, I was a little bit confused by the long aesthetic, atmospheric sequences of the movie. Like, where’d all the action go? But somehow, it was relieving to not have constant battle disturb the visual feast and the relational developments. The Sullys got a little time to regroup. To breathe. Which is a main theme in this movie. I’m glad the action came just in time and didn’t disappoint. The director chose a different narrative structure this time and it confused the heck out of the audience. But the more I let it sink in, it was the perfect choice!!! It’s what we wanted and needed!!!

I’m sure there’s more to say but it will come to me in time. This post is long enough as it is. If you made it all the way down here, THANKS for reading!!!