#like an unscratchable itch

[eepy-bells]

I really want to make a stsg animatic again but I can't decide on what song <(．＿．)>

Please suggest me some songs (*ಥ_ಥ)

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: January 28

"The Fair Flower of Northumberland" by Alasdair Roberts, Amble Skuse, and David McGuinness

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Steven Universe.. hit different and I don’t really understand why? Thinking about any of my other old hypefixations, I smile. But Steven Universe just makes me a deeply uncomfortable kind of sad that latches onto my brain like a leech and doesn’t let go for many hours. And I have no idea what it did to deserve that lmao

[cookinguptales]

fuck, I just realized that wwdits the show is fulfilling the desires I always had for merlin bbc but never received.

put-upon servant secretly being the powerful one but in a forbidden way... using his forbidden talents to secretly protect his kind-of-shitty master... weird loyalty stuff...

but then merlin never gave me arthur figuring it all out and loving him even more and respecting his power and the two of them going on to rule britain and also fuck a lot so???

wwdits is well on its fucking way tho!

well, not the ruling britain part, presumably, but all the rest.

...pretty sure guillermo had a pretty bad time in britain, in fact. lmao

[sketchesandnonesense]

idk how people put up w/ that character.ai thing it's so janky n lame

it tends to repeat itself or contradict itself n forget shit easily n like

i only played w/ it for obscure as shit characters and to make afew of my own that didnt have em and god it was a chore trying to teach the shit how to Not Suck Dick at the role given and even Then it would keep fucking up n going back into this overly weird Default(tm) n im just

it ain't worth it. I'd rather just write on my own or die, at this rate.

Just acouple too many horrendously OOC replies n im done man

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || eyeless jack || maid!reader (𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta au)

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: freaky ass demon sex, overstimulation, breeding kink, size kink, marking kink (?), jacks a freaky fuck with his tongues, choking, humiliation, ownership kink if you squint

You stared up blankly at the ceiling, your head throbbing with stress. Since your incident with Toby, you had been notified of Trenderman’s request for you to transfer to his mansion instead. Of course Slenderman declined, an action you were extremely grateful for. Despite your constant affairs with the mansions residents, you always found yourself craving more. Sure, your time with them was fun and hot, but it always left you desiring something more. You felt as though your pleasure wasn’t prioritized. You wouldn’t expect it to be, nor would you request it to a bunch of killers.

With all of that in mind, it left you aching with desire. An unscratched itch keeping you up late at night. It was a Wednesday, the one night a week Slenderman opted for you to sleep like a normal human. He said it was good for you to participate in traditional human behavior every now and then. The moon hung high in the sky, the mansion presumably vacant besides you. Even with that theory being very likely, you still hid in your bedroom unless absolutely necessary. You tucked your lip between your teeth, recounting the memories with the proxies. The way Masky fucked you with his gun, how Toby’s fingers felt around your throat, and how Hoodie thrust into you. You felt like a dirty perv, the way those thoughts turned you on so desperately.

Those thoughts alone were what made your hand slither underneath the band of your shorts.

Surely you were no saint, but the idea of getting off on just thoughts alone made you feel more filthy than anything else. It wasn’t like you had many options, porn just out of reach and your vibrator long forgotten at home. You slowly fluttered your eyes shut, dipping your index and middle finger in between your folds. Gathering your slick you drew slow circles around your clit, allowing yourself to let out a sigh of relief. Finally, your pleasure was being prioritized. Even if you would’ve rather done this with someone else, you were sure this would feel better, right? No one else could know your own body better than you did. You dipped your fingers into your cunt, your gummy walls clinging to your small digits. You whimpered at the sensation, out of pleasure and frustration.

As much as you wanted them to, your fingers just couldn’t reach where you wanted them to go. It was like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch, your patience now growing thin. Deciding you just wanted to cum and get this over with, you brought your other hand to your neglected clit. Biting your bottom lip you exhaled, a soft whine clawing its way out of your throat. You had finally found a decent rhythm, your fingers going as fast as they could to power you through your orgasm. It was then an abrupt knock ripped you from your pleasurable facade, causing you to sit up. “Just a minute!” You called. Panicking you sat up, throwing your blankets off of you. You wiped your hands on your silk shorts, hoping and praying Slenderman of all people wasn’t on the other side of the door. Gripping the doorknob and swinging it open, you couldn’t conceal your puzzled expression at the sight of Eyeless Jack.

His own expression was hidden by his mask, his presence more ominous than anything. It was the first time you said seen him without a hoodie, a tight t shirt clinging to his muscles. “Is now a bad time? I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Jack said. You felt yourself become flustered, awkwardly clearing your throat. “Of course not, what’s up?” You sputtered. Ahh you were so naive, so adorable. Jack was surprised he had managed to keep his hands off of you for this long. “May I come in? I have a question,” Jack explained. You hesitantly took a step back, gesturing for him to come inside of your room. He was the first creep to ever be in there, your bedroom your one safe place hidden away from a group of serial killers. Jack seemed to realize this as well, modestly sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Lovely room. Suits you,” He commented. Unsurely you shut the door, clicking the lock. “You said you had a question?” You inquired. Jack leaned back on his hands, his mask tipped up just enough to where you could see a lazy smile form across his lips. “Why yes of course. I was going to ask you, how is it you get the most sexual interaction around here yet, you’re playing with yourself at night?” Jack asked, cockily tilting his head to the side. You felt your face turn red, your jaw slightly dropping. “Excuse me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You lied, trying to sound offended in your tone. Jack was quick to hop off of the bed, towering over you as he pressed you against your bedroom door. “I can smell you whore, don’t fucking lie to me,” He snarled. An animalistic growl had formed in the pit of his throat, the sound so feral it made you freeze in fear.

The terror dripping off of you was a divine smell and sight. But thankfully for you, Jack was the mood for more of a taste related ordeal. He cupped your small face, dragging his thumb mockingly down your bottom lip. He looked at you like he was examining you. “If I were you i’d answer the question,” He purred. You were speechless, the tall demon before you practically oozing with sex appeal. You could feel yourself growing wetter at the sound of his words. Jack grew impatient, sliding off his mask and tossing it aside. You stared up into his empty eye sockets, the black tar substance nearly dripping down his cheeks. “I’d start talking little one, you don’t wanna know what i’ll do if you don’t,” He purred. He relished in the fear in your eyes, your body frozen under his warm touch.

“I-I just get horny. It’s a normal human thing,” You babbled. Teasingly Jack stroked your cheek, grinning at the sight of goosebumps spreading like wildfire across your skin. “Your behavior either believes me to believe you’re part rabbit, based on your sex drive and adorable heartbeat,” Jack began. His fingers were warm against your skin, your body beginning to relax under his touch. “Or all of your sexual partners aren’t keeping you satisfied. So do tell. Which is it pet?” He asked. You swallowed nervously, the situation a little too lewd for your liking. “No they do it’s just-” You started, Jack placing his hand over your head abruptly cutting you off. He stared down at you with his soulless gaze, your breath hitching as he leaned in closer to you.

“Just what? Tell me pet, do they not make you cum?” Jack questioned, curiously tilting his head to the side. You blinked, your mouth running dry at the lewd question. “No they do and they have but I just, it’s hard to explain,” You rambled. Jack was now observing you like you were an experiment, instead of an enticing off limits meal. “Try,” He pried. You nervously toyed with your hair, pulling down your shorts. “I know it doesn’t matter but my pleasure isn’t prioritized, you know? Do you understand what i’m saying?” You confessed. Jack leaned back just a bit, enough to give you some fresh air to inhale that didn’t smell like his cologne. “I’ve spent many heats alone, I understand the desperation all too well,” He admitted. He strayed away from his position, resuming his place sitting on the end of your bed. He patted the space next to him, signaling for you to join him.

“Are you in heat right now?” You asked, hesitantly joining him on the bed. Jack chuckled, his laugh sincere. “No pet I am not. Trust me if I was you’d know,” He explained through his laughter. You raised an eyebrow. “I’d know? How would I know?” You asked. Jacks laughter came to an instant halt, his gaze somehow darkening. “Your cunt would be leaking with my cum if I was,” He said, seriousness lacing his words. You felt your thighs tighten at his words, your core throbbing. You couldn’t help but curiously glance down at his jeans, his cock halfway hard but visible through his pants. Woah.

“I don’t do much talking when i’m in heat. I become more, for lack of better words, animalistic,” Jack explained. You found yourself giving him an awkward smile. Of course the tall demon goes into animalistic heats. Why wouldn’t he? Makes complete sense. You mentally spited the creator of Craigslist. “Pet, i’ve come here with a purpose. And although I do enjoy genuine conversation with someone of your kind, I think it’s time I cut to the chase,” He proposed. He gently pushed your hair behind your shoulder, examining your bare neck. “Your arousal is so intoxicating i’d dare to compare it to the heroin your kind fonds over. You have your cravings and I have mine,” Jack continued. Your breath hitched as he leaned closer, inhaling the crook of your neck. “I propose a trade off. We take care of one another,” Jack purred. He slowly licked a hot stripe up your neck, causing you to whimper.

“W-wait, what exactly is your craving?”

Jack chuckled darkly as he leaned close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “To fill you to the brim with my cum, pet,” He huffed. He pressed a kiss against your ear, leaving a trail of pecks down to your neck. His lips became heavier, threatening to suck at the skin. “I leave you a squirming mess and in return you allow me to have my fun at the end, sounds like a good deal, no?” He asked. You whimpered loudly as he began to suck at the skin, covering the marks Toby had left not too long ago. You wanted to maintain your dignity and pride. To tell him no, that you were more dignified than your previous actions made you out to be. But as he sucked a hickey onto your skin, his large hand dancing dangerously close to your dripping cunt, your mind swayed in the opposite direction. “Deal,” You breathed, the creature grinning into your neck.

“I thought you might say that,” Jack mused. He quickly grabbed you, tossing you onto the bed. He undid the buttons of your silk pajama top, halfway tempted to rip the fabric off all together. “Be careful what you wish for, pet,” Jack grinned. Your bare breast were a sight for sore eyes, the demons assault beginning harshly. Palming you through your panties he began sucking hickies on your breast, covering the sensitive flesh with marks. You whimpered at the sensation, your hands finding his hair as he littered your flesh with bruises. “I must admit, seeing you come out of that closet with Toby did something to me,” Jack confessed as he released your skin with a pop. He took your right nipple in between his index and middle finger, harshly toying with the sensitive bud.

“I’m not quite sure how to describe it, jealousy, perhaps?” He rambled. He kissed down your chest, pulling down your thin shorts and panties in one swift motion. “After all, Slender has never allowed me to have a pet before,” Jack snickered. He pushed two of his long, thick fingers into your aching cunt, causing you to whine at the sudden stretch. Jack was physically much bigger than anyone else you had fooled around with. Glancing down at his hard cock, you weren’t sure if it wasn’t going to fit. Jack noticed your unease, giving you a cocky smile. “Relax, i’ll make it fit. Just need this tight pussy to loosen up a bit first,” He purred. He seemed overly confident in his abilities, his fingers curling upwards and brushing against your g spot. You gasped, his fingers hitting all of the places you weren’t able to. You groaned as he continued to finger fuck you, a devious grin spreading across his lips.

“You know usually i’m not so talkative during these kinds of things. But I can feel your walls squeezing me at the sound of my every word,” Jack said. His gaze was daunting and endless as he continued his assault on your g spot, lowering himself down to hover over your folds. His hot breath fanned over your slick, causing you to buck your hips upwards. “Nuh uh pet, not quite yet. Want your first orgasm to be easy before we get into the real fun,” He grinned devilishly. You gasped as he held your hips down with one hand, the other mercilessly finger fucking you. His assault on your core was relentless, the demon above you relishing in the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing around his fingers. He could feel that you were getting close, your heart rate telling him everything he needed to know.

“Come on pet, show me how much of a slut you can be and cum on my fingers,” Jack purred. You grabbed at his wrist, your body unable to keep up with pleasure he was giving you. You felt your thighs tremble ever so slightly, your hips attempting to buck as you released on his fingers. You moaned his name as you came, your walls spasming around his digits. Dazed you watched him removed his fingers from you, revealing his three black tongues. Speechless, you stared as he licked your juices off of himself, keeping his gaze on you as he did so. “You taste so good. I think I want seconds,” Jack smirked, diving in between your thighs. You gasped as one of his tongues shoved itself inside of you, the other lapping at your clit. You froze as his third tongue teased your unexplored hole, your body tensing.

“J-Jack wait i’ve n-never-” You stuttered, Jacks tongue slowly pushing inside. His warm tongue made the stretch easier, your body slowly relaxing as he curled it inside of you. With his tongues in both holes you felt like you were floating, both of them abusing each hole. “Fucking shit! Jack!” You moaned, your head tilting back as you shamelessly tried to grind against his face. The pain from the stretch was almost immediately subsided, your thighs trembling as his large hands kept your legs pried open. You felt an unfamiliar sensation form in the pit of your stomach, your eyes screwing shut. “Jack! Feels too good,” You babbled, your orgasm crashing down over you without warning. Jack grinned as he removed his tongue from your clit and puckered hole, instead abruptly shoving them all in your cunt.

You whined as your walls spasmed around his tongues, struggling to accommodate to the girth of all three of them. Briefly he removed all of them, watching your cunt struggle and clench around nothing. “You wanted your pleasure to be the priority right? You’re getting what you wanted, my greedy pet,” Jack purred, his fingers digging into your thighs. He returned his three tongues inside of your cunt, curling upwards to abuse your sweet spot. You were seeing stars, your hands pawing at his hair. You attempted to yank him away from your overstimulated core, your body shaking. “So good, so fuckin, fuck- Jack! Too much, too fuckin much,” You whined, coherent thoughts long discarded as he tongue fucked you. You couldn’t do anything except take it, your body a slave to the pleasure as he brought you to another orgasm.

A silent scream was all your mouth could let out, your thighs attempting to close around Jacks head. The demon finally emerged from between your thighs, your cunt red and puffy. “You’re lucky your cunt taste so good, otherwise I would’ve had your organs instead,” Jack chuckled in a sinister tone. Your eyes widened, the demon flipping you over onto your stomach. You nervously looked up, the creature leaning over you. He rutted his large cock up and down the mounds of your ass, grabbing handfuls of the flesh. His comment about eating your organs normally would’ve scared you, but truthfully your mind was too clouded with lust and hazed with the thrill of what was to come next. You eagerly pushed your ass against him, signaling him to get on with you.

“You just came, what, three times? And you’re already wanting more?” Jack questioned mockingly. He smiled sadistically as he began to push himself inside of you, pain shooting through your body. “The more you fight it, the harder it is, relax,” Jack advised, nibbling at your earlobe. You grabbed handfuls of your sheets as he pushed himself inside of you, your body threatening to split in half. You gritted your teeth together, eyes screwed shut as he continued to make his way inside of your cunt. “There we go. Such a good pet. Taking what you’re made for,” Jack grunted. With one final push he bottomed out, your gummy walls clinging onto his cock. He could hear how fast your heart was beating, as well as the blood flowing through your veins. It only turned him on more, your pain and fear making thrusting into you harder to resist. Nevertheless he began moving his hips, ignoring your painful whines.

“You’ll adjust, I know you will. Just gotta learn to take it,” Jack huffed. He leaned forward on his knuckles, pounding into you from behind. Your painful whines became unholy moans, your eyes slowly blinking open to stare up at the demon above you. He enjoyed watching your face scrunch up in pleasure with each thrust, a demonic grin spread across his lips. “I think I may steal you for my upcoming heat, this cunt is begging me to make you my mate,” He snickered. He could feel you squeeze him as he snapped his hips into yours. “Oh you like that idea? Really? Becoming my mate? Do I fuck you that good?” Jack asked tauntingly. You gripped the sheets, mouth open as you stared up at him. “Yes Jack, shit, so fuckin good. Wanna be your mate, all yours,” You babbled. Jack roughly grabbed your throat, his fingers tightening around your airway.

He continued to abuse your overstimulated cunt, your g spot throbbing as he fucked you. “You fucking slut. You’d tell me anything if I kept fucking you huh? Pathetic,” He growled. He grabbed your face, forcing your lips to shut pucker out like a fish. Jack quickly spat into your mouth, a shiver running down your spine as he did so. “Swallow it slut,” Jack snarled. His saliva traveled down your tongue, before sliding down your throat as you swallowed. Roughly he grabbed your hair, shoving your face down into the sheets. He pounded into you relentlessly, your sinful noises now muffled. You couldn’t warn him you were about to cum, your body snitching on you anyways. He grinned as you creamed on his cock, his thrust not slowing down for a second. “You wanna be the center of attention right? Well now you are. Little cum dump,” He barked. You couldn’t think straight, your vision going hazy as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Mockingly he slapped your ass, the pain shocking you back to life.

“Don’t pass out on me, i’m no where done with you pet.”

[msgexymunson]

Forbidden Fruit Part 2

Description: Saying it's been awkward after your experience with Eddie Munson is an understatement. How will you survive a trip together? 

A/N: WELL, you liked the first part so much I had to write part 2! Potential for a part 3 and 4 if you guys want it. If you do y'all better reblog ;) 

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI or I'll tell a teacher on you, a LOT of angst, hella smut, fluff if you squint, voyeurism, spit play, hair pulling, fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex (don't be a dumb dumb) rough sex

4k words 

Masterlist  Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since your sordid encounter with your Dad's best friend. You thought about it every day, every hour. It has embedded itself into your mind like steel wool, an unscratchable itch that you're almost certain will never go away. 

You'd only seen Eddie twice in that whole time. That was odd in itself, he only lived across the road. He was usually around every couple of days, even if it was to just have a coffee and a chat with your father. It felt very much like he was trying to make himself scarce. 

The first time was barely even a glimpse; he'd been leaving his house as you'd been heading to college, driving there since it was close enough for you to still stay at home. You'd sent him a shy wave which was not returned. He just got in his car and reversed like a demon, tires screeching as he drove down the road. 

The second time you were in the kitchen on your tippy toes, trying to reach the cereal that someone had placed on the top shelf as if to spite you. Feeling eyes on you, you looked around and saw him standing in the doorway. 

"Eddie." 

He ignored it, strode in and grabbed the cereal box with ease, slamming it on the counter in front of you with too much force making you flinch. 

You tried again, fingers lightly resting on his arm. 

"Eddie, I-" 

"Don't." Was all he said, pulling his arm away as if you'd burned him. Tears had stung the corners of your eyes as he left without a look back. You'd abandoned your snack and ran upstairs to your room, to cry in peace. 

So it was no surprise at all when you overheard your Dad saying Eddie was coming over to watch the game and it felt like your stomach dropped out from under you. You hid in your room, not wanting to face another gruff encounter whilst your stomach rumbled its dissent. 

This is fucking stupid. He'd said that was it, you need to get over it. You shouldn't be scared to go into your own damn kitchen. 

Steeling your nerves you go downstairs and start to make yourself a sandwich. You could hear Eddie's laugh echo from the TV room and it twisted a knife in your gut. 

Your dad's voice rang out over the noise of the TV. 

"You free next weekend Eddie?" 

Oh fucking shit. You knew what he was talking about. You pray that Eddie says he's busy. 

"Free as a bird, why what's happening?" 

"Mandy's invited us to her lake house for the long weekend. You fancy a trip?" 

Even from here you can sense Eddie's hesitation. 

"Oh, I'm not sure that's a good idea?" 

"Why? It'll be fun! I'm sure Mandy's got a thing for you, you know." 

"Yeah, sure, I suppose I could come." 

Fuck. 

********************

Cue the most uncomfortable car ride in your life, squashed in the back seat with Eddie and thankfully a duffel bag in between providing a slight buffer. He was hunched in his seat, barely making eye contact with you. 

Your mom turned in the passenger seat to face you. 

"You alright Hon? You've hardly said a word." 

"I'm fine, mom." 

"You know, Jake will probably be there, Mandy's boy?" She waggled her eyebrows at you. 

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "he's a little, young for me." 

"He's a year older than you! I thought you liked him?" 

"He's fine, it's just… he's a boy." And I need a man. One particular man. 

You couldn't fail to hear Eddie's snorting laugh that he tried to disguise as a cough. 

As you arrive at the lake house, you rush out of the car to breathe air that wasn't laced with the scent of Eddie. Your thighs hurt from squeezing them together for the past two hours. 

"Hey! Welcome!" Mandy's waving at you all as you get your bag from the car. 

Your mom runs over and gives her a hug. 

"Hey! So good to see you! Where's Jake?" 

"Oh, he's come down with something, poor boy, he couldn't make it." 

Well, there goes the plan you had wistfully thought of to make Eddie jealous. 

Mandy shows everyone to their rooms. The lake house is gorgeous. Mandy must have gotten some huge settlement from her divorce. Your room is small but comfortable, a double bed, wardrobe and side tables all in a deep wood. The walls are wood panelled too, carvings of little animals and leaves all over. It puts you in mind of being in an enormous cuckoo clock. 

Changing into your swimsuit, you grab a towel and head towards the lake for a swim. 

This felt better. At least you could cool off, trying to escape the heat from the sun as well as the heat between your legs. The water is crisp and cold as you swim until you're shivering. 

As you exit the water, arms tired, you look up to see Eddie on the deck, watching you. 

You need to speak with him, try and clear the air. Moving towards him he stubs the cigarette he'd been smoking out and turns on his heel back to the house. 

Anger started to bubble up, acidic in your throat. How dare he give you the most amazing sex of your life and just throw you away like some slut. You'd eaten in your room that night, feigning exhaustion. 

Tip toeing out to grab a drink from downstairs thinking everyone had gone to bed, you hear the tinkle of laughter. 

There he was, sitting on the couch with Mandy. She was fawning over him pathetically, her hand stroking his arm that rested on the back of the seat. 

Great. Just great. Now he'll fuck Mandy and get married and live right opposite you with her. Fantastic. 

Grabbing a water you flounced off to bed in a huff. 

********************

Sitting up at the breakfast bar, you'd plastered your bravest face on and ate some pancakes, cutting them into little pieces and nibbling like a rabbit. 

Eddie sauntered in, saying good morning to everyone, then he was taking a seat on the bar stool opposite you. 

"Morning sweetheart." 

You flashed angry eyes at him, and looked away, delivering a clipped "morning." 

It was enough to shut him up. He filled a plate with pancakes and bacon, picking up a rasher and tearing into it with his teeth. Then he did the same with a pancake, ripping it into four and shoving a piece in his mouth.  

He looked like a caveman. It was half amusing, and half a turn on. Watching him eat like an animal was doing something for you. 

Mandy looked less amused. 

"Um, there is cutlery, right there." She snipped. 

"I know." He ignored the knives and forks, picking up the next piece of bacon and plunging it into his mouth. Your mom and dad shared an amused look. 

He licked bacon grease off his fingers while looking straight at you, making your cheeks rapidly grow in heat. All you could think was that you wanted to wrestle that piece of bacon out of his mouth with your tongue, to smear your greasy lips together and have him throw you down on the counter top and fuck you until you see stars. 

"Just going to get ready." You mumble, excusing yourself. 

God damn why am I so wet? A shower, that'll help. 

You stand under the stream of slightly too cold water and try to wrench the images away, but they are coming thick and fast. 

Greasy fingers running over your skin. That tongue turning you into a whimpering mess. Plates smashing on the floor, food flying everywhere as he lifts you on the counter top and fucks you like an animal. The shower head was looking extremely tempting right now. 

Right, get it out of your system, then face the day. 

You unclip the shower head and turn the heat up slightly, moving the warm stream of water to your expectant lips. The water makes you gasp as you move the shower head around, finding your clit with a whimper. 

And then the door flies open. Eddie stands there, frozen, face blushed the deepest pink. 

You shout, "don't you know how to knock??" At the same time Eddie's rather hoarse voice yells "are you trying to kill me??" 

Quickly exiting, he slams the door shut. 

You hear your father call up to ask what's wrong. Eddie's muffled voice responds. 

"Nothing, I just made your daughter jump." 

The clipped emphasis on the word daughter rings in your head. You're unsure for whose benefit that was. 

Am I trying to kill him? He's the one that barged in on me!! Why the fuck is he upset? 

For the rest of the day you ignore him, opting to spend some quality time with your mom, attempting to push the weird encounter out of your head. 

In the evening your parents announce they are going into town to a bar with Mandy. 

"Eddie, you coming?" Your dad asks. 

"No, I'm good, got a headache. Think I'll have an early night." 

When everyone leaves you retire to your room, putting on some music and reading a book. You start to drift away, losing yourself in the words, feeling comfortable and less on edge. 

There's a soft knock at the door. Ignoring it, you flick to the next page. Another, more insistent knock. Huffing and pulling your silk dressing gown around you, making sure everything important is covered, you shout out.

 "Yeah?" 

The door opens, and Eddie's standing there, looking very sorry for himself. He's only wearing a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, muscular frame and tattoos fully displayed. 

"Can I come in?" 

"So you can knock. What do you want?" 

"Look, I want to apologise to you, I've been acting like an asshole."

You nod in agreement, eyes going back to your book, words a blur.

"You really have a headache?" 

"No." 

"Shame."  

"Mandy kissed me last night, invited me back to her room." 

Why the fuck is he telling you this? 

"Oh yeah? how was she?" You spit back, venom lacing each word. 

"I wouldn't know, I didn't go." 

Speechless, you return his gaze. He comes into your room, shutting the door behind him, but doesn't move any further. 

"Sweetheart, I can't stop thinking about you, about what we did. I've been fucking my fist like a teenager thinking about you. That's why I've been avoiding you. I smelled your perfume the other day and I got fuckin' hard. You weren't even there. It's pathetic." 

A small smile creeps onto your face, smug to have had such an effect on him. You sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your hands as he explains further. 

"I really want you, but we can't do this. It's so wrong. If your dad finds out I'm a dead man." 

"Hey, he'll kill me too!" You respond. 

"No sweetheart. He'd be disappointed in you. I'd be blamed for it. For- for defiling his daughter!" 

You laugh out loud at that and his lips quirk into a nearly smile. 

"You make it sound like you forced yourself on me. I kissed you first." 

"True, but I asked. If I hadn't-" 

"Eddie, trust me, sooner or later, I would have jumped your bones." 

"Really?" He asks, surprised. 

"Really. You're super hot." You admit.

His hand rubs the back of his neck compulsively. You see the nerves then, etched into his features, deepening the fine lines on his face. 

Just his sheer presence is making your pussy pulse. 

He walks over to you, standing over your form. Staring up at him, he looks like he wants to devour you whole. 

"We can't do this, you know." He says again, but his hand is reaching to the tie of your dressing gown, pulling it undone. The flimsy fabric parts down your middle, showing a sliver of skin from your chest to your navel. 

You nod back, breath hitching in your throat. "Yeah, we really shouldn't." 

You let the dressing gown slip over your shoulder, exposing your left side, pert breast on display. Eddie groans. 

"This is wrong." But his hand has other plans, sliding the other side off of your shoulder, so you're sitting there completely naked for him, gown pooling around your back. 

"Yep. Super wrong. Naughty." You say, legs parting slightly. Eddie's smirk is debaucherous as he sinks to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs even wider. 

Preamble forgotten, he forces his head between your legs and licks a fat stripe up your cunt. Throwing your head back at the onslaught of his tongue, you dig your heels into his back, forcing him closer if it were even possible. 

"How the fuck," he says between dirty kisses to your clit, "do you taste so fucking good?" 

He doesn't seem to want an answer, and you're entirely not in the position to provide one. You just mewl and buck into his face pathetically, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping on. 

His tongue is everywhere, devouring you. It's messy, messier than you ever thought getting head could be. You could feel his spit and your own juices dripping down the crevice of your ass. 

Legs quivering, you moan wantonly, gripping onto him with everything you have. He's moaning into you, almost as loud as you were. 

Then he's pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit, his firm hands gripping your ass, grinding your body against his face. The pure, unbridled need pouring from him had you toppling over that edge.

"Holy fucking shit, Eddie!" 

The intensity and power of your orgasm shocks you to your core, spilling out in a slew of profanities, limbs twitching uncontrollably. 

Eddie doesn't stop licking into you until you drag him away by his hair.

Eddie's face is a picture, dripping with slick; his smile is broad, lighting up his face as if he'd just been to heaven and tasted the finest ambrosia. 

He leans over you, hooking one finger into your mouth, pulling at your jaw. 

"Open." 

Your jaw flops open at his command. He spits then, directly into your mouth. Eyes widening in surprise, you taste the savoury edge of his spit intermingled with the sweet tang of your cunt as it slides down your tongue. 

"Swallow." He orders, eyes dark. 

You close your lips around his finger, swallowing hard and sucking the tip of his finger. 

"Fuck you are perfect, my dirty fucking girl." He says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You moan at his words, breath speeding up, feeling dizzy and hot all over. 

"You like that don't you? Being a dirty girl?" He smirks. 

"I like being yours." You admit, feeling slightly bashful.

He cups your face gently with his hand, a queer look in his eye, before leaning towards your ear and whispering, "mine." 

Writhing under him, pinned by his body, you can only whimper as he sinks teeth into your neck. 

Pushing a needy tongue in your mouth, he gives you an earth shattering kiss, of salt and cigarettes and sweetness. You reciprocate, hands running over naked flesh as you push your chest against him.

 "I need you. Now." He says as he climbs off, frantically pulling his sweatpants off and flinging them to the side, his impressive member standing almost painfully to attention. 

You give a startled yelp as he grabs you by the ankles and flips you over. 

"Hands and knees for me, my good girl." 

You scramble on all fours, waiting for the breach of his tip, when you feel his thumb press on your asshole. 

"Fuck, Eddie!" You shout. It had made you jump, but you couldn't deny that you liked it. 

"Bet you'd let me fuck you in the ass if I asked sweetheart." Entirely unprepared for that, you whip your head around. He just laughs. 

"Don't worry, not tonight baby." He says as he rubs his tip over your folds, spreading your wetness even further. 

Then he's pushing and pushing into you, balls deep. You both let out a groan of satisfaction as he starts ploughing into you hard and rough.  

"This pussy is fuckin unreal," you hear him mutter behind you, gripping on your hips so tight its bordering on painful. You allow yourself to be used, pushing back into him as much as you can, but it's impossible keeping up with his brutal pace. 

Feeling your hands stiff against the bed,  your elbows are shaking, on the edge of giving up. You feel Eddie's hand gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail and twist it in his hand, pulling you upright. A lightning bolt shoots down your spine at the animalistic gesture. 

He's now hitting that sweet spot inside you on each thrust, the slapping of skin and slick echoing through the room with your pornographic moans. 

"Oh God, Eddie, I'm gonna come-" 

"No, no please," he slows, letting go of your hair, making you fall to the bed. 

"I need to see it, I need to see you. Turn around." 

You turn, feeling him slip out of you, and shove him to the side, hard. It takes him entirely by surprise and he falls onto his back, hands up as if he's afraid he did something wrong. 

Taking his shock as an opportunity you clamber on his lap, gripping his swollen cock hard at the base, lining him up with your entrance. Eddie's look of surprise turns into a lecherous grin, hands resting on your waist. 

Sitting on him, sheathing him once again within your silky walls, you look him in the eye.

"How dare you mess with my orgasm again." Your words are hard, but you're smiling. 

He laughs, rubbing at your hips. 

"Oh I'm sorry, my poor sweetheart," words positively dripping sarcasm, complete with pouting lower lip. Clenching around his cock, you struggle to even register that him mocking you is such a turn on.

You push at his chest with one hand, and start grinding into him, firm and slow. Eddie looks like he's about to bust already at your movements, eyes darting from your own, to your tits, to your cunt. 

"What- what were you thinking of? In the shower?" His words have a quiver to them, a flash of pride bursts across your chest at the fact you're doing this to him, getting him in such a state.

"I was thinking," you say breathlessly, "about tongue wrestling that bit of bacon out of your mouth and you fucking me on the kitchen counter." 

"Fuuuck" He replies, eyes rolling back, "you are something else." 

All of a sudden it's hitting just right. You don't feel like you'd moved but it's definitely different. Your whole body is buzzing with sensation as you roll your hips against him. Needing to grip onto something, anything, you don't risk changing the angle and instead twine your fingers into your own hair. 

"Oh my God, oh fuckfuckfuck!" 

Eddie's mouth hangs open as he watches you unravel. You feel your entire body pulse out what may be the best orgasm of your life. It rolls in waves around you, over you, through you. Grinding down hard, you keep it going. And going. Until it stops, or nearly stops. It's as if you are looking down at that edge yet again, on the brink of falling off. 

"Fuck Eddie don't you dare move," you struggle out, rubbing over him, juices squelching obscenely with each thrust of your hips. He's beyond words, just biting his lip and nodding. 

"Oh fuck I'm gonna come again, oh!" 

Screaming into the night, it forces out of you again, almost as powerful as the last one. Your whole body is shaking like a leaf, completely stunned. Realising you're still gripping into your hair, you let go, feeling a sting on your scalp. 

"Holy shit." You laugh out, limbs convulsing of their own accord. 

"That was, fuck sweetheart, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life." 

You smile, fingers stroking up and down his chest. 

"Think you can give me one more?" He asks, eyebrows raising. 

"Eddie, I don't-" 

"Shh, sweetheart, just one more, I'm gonna come, come with me." 

You begin to grind, moving against his length once more, clit dragging across slickened hair making you whimper. Your legs are protesting but you want to give it to him. 

He helps you, hands on your hips dragging you back and forth, praising every thrust. 

"That's it baby." 

"Just a little more." 

"You can take it." 

"My good sweet girl." 

Until you release again, together, wetness squirting out of you, voice hoarse with a stuttered moan that seemed to bubble up from deep inside your chest cavity. Eddie groans out, hissing at the feeling as he releases his cum deep into your cunt. 

Melting, a puddle of a woman, your body pours over his, bones a distant memory. 

"I think my soul left my body for a minute there," you murmur into his sweaty neck. His laugh rumbles from his chest and vibrates into yours, hand resting sweetly on the back of your head. 

Both laying there for a minute, you know what needs to happen, but you're loath to admit it. Reality is looming and neither of you want to look it in the eye. 

Eddie breaks the spell. 

"I need to go sweetheart," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I know." You whisper back. Neither of you move. 

"Did you mean it?" You ask, voice as small as you can muster. 

"What?"

"That I'm yours?" 

You feel Eddie's breath, the silence stretching just a little too much. You stop breathing in anticipation. Finally, he responds. 

"Yes. Yes I meant it." 

Masterlist

Tag List (If you want to stay on the list, please reblog!)

@hereforshmut @g4ys0n @winchester-angel @eddiemunson95 @corrodedcoffincumslut @shazzie33 @severusswife @daluamaia1 @callsignraver @lightvixxen @newlips @eddiethefreakkmunson @hollster88 @ali-r3n @bebe07011 @roanniom @eddiesprincess86 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

[starryhutcherson]

━━ ON THE CLOCK

author's note: to those who have submitted requests a reminder that since i always keep my requests open there are a lot of them already so im working towards completing all of them but be please be patient with me, and also i sincerely appreciate all the i've support gotten so far!!

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! masturbation (m!receiving), mentions of riding, phone sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 2000+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

The air in the monitor room is stale and sticky against Mike’s goosepricked skin. He’s more or less nearing the brink of insanity in the incessant silence that’s only punctuated by the occasional squeak of the chair beneath him, and his own heavy, helpless breathing. He’s hyper aware of the ache of his growing bulge as it strains against the constraints of dark, faded denim, and it’s becoming more and more difficult to ignore his longing as he tries (and fails) to keep his eyes trained on the grainy images of the monitors before him. 

Six hours seemed more resemblant to six years as he sat and watched and waited —waited for this shitty shift to end so he could get home, get home to you. You and your airy giggles and knowing eyebrow raises, that evil twinkle that lives in your irises, the one you flash him before he’d whisk you away to the privacy of his modest bedroom, diving into your body, the territory he’s claimed as his. 

Fuck. He can have you once this is all over, he tells himself. He wasn’t going to bother you when you were sleeping, not when he’d already swarmed you with the responsibility of unpaid babysitting for Abby.

Even though his jeans were sodden with a saturated patch of precum that was blooming right at the tip of his tent. 

His mind wanders before he can rope it back in; he’s thrust back into the memories of previous intimacy. Of his shaking figure, swallowed by the mattress, outlined in a tide of his own sweat, your gentle palm easing along his length, the stark contrast from his own calloused fist so erotic in itself. You were always there. Every buck into your hand, you accepted. Everything he needed, you gave. You always gave. 

He feels like an animal; his insatiable lust makes him sick in his own skin, but what can he do? You’re everything and more, and the heat festering in his stomach is making it hard to breathe. His desire is too strong over him – he’s weak. He runs his tongue along his teeth, searching for you and the flavor he craves but his search is futile.

A few more tangled minutes saunter by, and eventually he feels he has no choice but to give in to a fraction of his lust. His skin is melded further with a dry haze of heat and he curses himself as he reaches into his boxers. 

Stroke, stroke, stroke. 

He starts slow, his fingers grazing his cock and triggering a taunting voice that begs for more more more. You stay imprinted onto the forefront of his mind; every curve and crevice, the way you conduct the heat of his groping hands better than any precious metal. He can picture the slope of your jaw so effortlessly, the way your neck bleeds into your shoulders, every divot, every movement forever memorized. 

He needs more, it isn’t enough, the friction feels like an unscratchable itch. He’s chafing and aching like a raw wound, his pace quickens, his voice raises pitch, but nothing happens. Without you, he's helpless.

Mike’s brows furrow, nose twitches with utter concentration, features strewn wildly across his face as he chases his fantasy, fist speeding. In his mind, your body glides atop his, slick and succulent; the air is so heavy, a smothering caress to your slippery skin as your hips rock and ride with practiced ease. A whimper falls from his lips. Another, and another, ringing dull across the frozen air. 

But it won’t ever be enough. 

He needs a part of you, a slice, a vestige, something. He can’t come now, not on his own, not without some help. His wrist falls limp, his chest rises and falls sporadically as he takes his breath back in, stopping his movements. His eyes wander across the decrepit room until they reach the phone, mounted against the wall and waiting for him. Beckoning him. Call you. Get some help. He knows he needs it.

Shit. 

—

Your body feels lifeless as it deflates into the welcome embrace of the worn sofa. Swaddled in a patchwork blanket, hands nursing a cup of lukewarm tea, your vision remains weary as it wanders through the curios of the Schmidt family home. The dim light that seeped from the lamp on your right was enough to coax you further into a state of fatigue, and you might have fully fallen off the brink of consciousness had it not been for the shrill cry of the phone that rang from the kitchen. 

You stumble upwards to a shaky standing, inching across the carpeted floor and picking up the receiver with a lethargy wave of your wrist. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is broken glass as it comes out, shredded and tired and when Mike hears how groggy you sound he nearly hangs up without even greeting you. 

“Uh… hey.”

You can hear the speed of his uneven exhales, what’s he been doing? Is he alright? Why is he even calling you?

“Mike, what the hell? Why are you calling on the job? Has something happened?”

A moment's pause blossoms between the line, as another shaky breath tears itself from his mouth. 

“Nothing’s uh… nothing’s happened.” You cock a brow, and he can hear the confusion knitted into your tone.

“What’s going on then? Why do you sound like you just ran around the block?”

Again, he doesn’t reply. And then reality takes a knock at your head. 

“Oh.” He’s silent, every inch of him consumed by raging shame. Jesus, why’d he call you? Why’d he have to embarrass himself like this? He’s pathetic, he’s so pathetic, he called you? You’re gonna realize how needy he is, you’re gonna hate him, you’re gonna leave him— 

“You know I can’t come over, Mikey.”

Your saccharine voice is enough reassurance that this wasn’t as stupid as he thought; at least you haven’t screamed or been sick with disgust at the revelation that he really, truly, needs you.

“I know. I know, I… I just thought that…” He swallows his pride. “I just wanted to hear your voice. Look, I can hang up–” 

“Don’t.” 

He silences himself, and shifts uncomfortably in the cheap spinny chair that he’s resting in. 

“Don’t?” He probes nervously. 

“Nope.”

He’s aching, leaking, every single surface of him is basked in sweat and screaming out for you. 

“I’ll help you, yeah? That’s what you want? Need me to talk you through it?”

A shiver chews at his spine, his figure convulses and his knuckles whiten around the phone. 

“Don’t get shy now Mike.” 

He just about crumples at your tone; so sultry and yet sugar-sweet. You’re sanguine; he’d devour you if he could, drunk on the feeling you give him. He’s never known love like this and he never wants to let it go. 

“Yes. Yes, please, god, please.” Mike can taste your grin through the phone. 

“Knew it. Is your dick out already? Is it Mike?”

His insides burn. “Y/n–”

“Tell me Mike. C’mon.”

He glances down at himself, at his cock that rests stiff and swollen in his hand, wet webs of pre-cum etched across the skin of his rough palms. “Yeah,” he confesses softly, weakly. 

“So you’re all ready f’me, huh?” 

He nods despite your inability to see it, eyes trained on the way he pulses, the way he dreams to disappear between your glistening folds.

“Mike.”

“Shit. Sorry. Uh– yeah. Yeah. I’m.. I’m ready,” his voice descends an octave. 

You settle down into the chair beside you, getting comfortable, a smirk creeping into the corner of your lips. “Then go on. Touch yourself. Nice and slow, just for me.”

He chokes at this, spluttering as his fingers ghost along the sensitive flesh, thumb caressing his tip as his fist begins to stroke his length. He lets out a satisfied hum, falling into the gentle rhythm that you allow him. Nothing faster. He wants you to make him cum. He wants to be good for you. 

“Yeah? Feels good?”

He’s still a little tense– he’s never done anything this dirty before. Technically speaking, he’d never done anything dirty until he’d met you. He was bound to Abby early on, and lost any idea of a relationship, prioritizing her in every instance, but then you came along, took his heart and his virginity and everything in between, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

“Should be you,” the words tumble from his lips, accompanied by an audible slop as he gathers more of his slick with his fist. 

“I know, baby.” His chest caves at the pet name. “I know. But it can’t be right now.”

He grumbles something that is lost under the muffle of background noise and the distance between you two, but the phone does capture a soft whine that crawls from deep in his throat. He bucks up, seeking more; more friction, more of the nectar that drools from your voice. To taint your neck with reds and purple, for you to do the same to him. He needs to writhe beneath you, for you to drink his stress up with kisses. His hand gains speed and another fractured whimper escapes his lips, adorned with the broken syllables of your name. 

“That’s it. Just like that. Go faster for me, a little faster.” 

He’s nodding again, a subconscious action as his hips begin to chase his fist. He doesn’t have the capacity in his head to reply to your sugared little coaxes with words, but he whines and grunts and loses himself. Loses every shred of apathy, loses the stress and the indifferent facade that he veils upon himself. 

If he was sweating badly before, his current state is beyond that. He’s soaked, his entire face glimmering under the flickering lights, and all he feels is an inescapable hunger blooming in his stomach, and oh god he’s already so embarrassingly close. 

“You getting close for me Mike?” He manages to jumble out a quiet, “So close,” under the current of his breathless whimpers, the stark contrast to his typical low grumble almost comical. 

“Yeah you are. Just for me, right? Gonna give it to me, I know you are.”

He just about sobs; tears prick the corners of his warm eyes and he gives up any and all control, fist pumping at an ineffable speed as needy cries spew from him like a faucet. He’s finally getting what he needs. “Just for you, god, god, honey please– please, honey, sweetheart, oh–”

“Gonna make a mess, a big mess, all over your hand? You always do. Always giving me everything, so good for me.” He’s indescribably close, nearing the brink of ecstasy, whining and moaning and thrusting into his hand and convincing himself that it’s yours– you and your soft palms, floral lotion delving into every crevice. He moans, once, twice, dangerously near…

“And you know I’ll always be here, ready at home for the real thing.”

He cries out your name so loud the impact alone should shatter glass as he erupts with thick white ribbons, tears rolling free along the flesh of his reddened cheeks, whimpering shamelessly. His brows knit so tightly his skin scrunches, his eyes squeezed shut as his sentences string out in incoherent bursts and all he feels is the overwhelming relief as his entire figure shudders in shock. 

His hand, the table, his faded navy hoodie, tainted with ivory spills that seem to never cease. He comes and comes and comes, heavy and hard, enough to fill buckets. His chest heaves and he wants to freeze this moment and keep it tucked in the waistband of his jeans, buried in the creases of his mind. Your name occasionally falls from the knot of tangled words he can’t seem to choke out, and though it seems eternal, he does float down from his bliss eventually. 

You listen to his breathing for a while, hearing his jagged gasps morph back to even sounding pants, and you can sense the moment it all hitches and the shyness, the awkward man who asked for your number in the coffee shop, claims him once again. He doesn’t speak first. 

“You okay Mike? Did I lose you?” You tease gently. 

He groans out. “Stop.”

“That’s not what you were saying before,” you grin. 

He grunts irritably. “I hate you.” 

“Oh really?” There’s a soft silence that creases as his voice, gravelly and hoarse, comes back.

“No.”

You smile. “I love you Mike.” There’s no pause this time. 

“I love you too.” 

masterlist

✩‧₊

[icyg4l]

PAC: Energy Check-In

Hello beautiful people! I have been so inconsistent with posting. Thank you all for your patience. But anyway, tonight's reading will consist of an energy check-in. We all need one, even me! Also, the Five Dollar Friday Sale will still happen! It will take place from 12 AM-11PM. Thank you guys so much for your support! Don't forget to check out the guidelines before booking with me. Dm me privately if you have any questions. Without further ado, please select your pile!

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I feel like you are currently trying to figure out what to do with yourself. I heard "I got so much energy!" in my head. Your sacral chakra is booming. I feel like you could be super horny or feeling like you need to create something. But you are trying to figure out a way to do this in an appropriate manner. The solution will come quick. There could be a partnership coming your way that will allow you to be more free flowing. It is essential at this time that you find ways to express yourself. Do not feed into self-limiting beliefs. You are prone to making impulsive decisions like dying your hair late at night or buying clothes that you won't even put on a year from now. Focus on what will fulfill you in the long run and stop trying to scratch an unscratchable itch. It will make you see things much easier.

Cards Used: 8 of Swords, 5 of Swords, The Hierophant, Ace of Wands, 8 of Wands, Queen of Wands.

Pile Two: Someone has you feeling real good. Princess treatment will do that to you. When you have the right people around you, you feel unstoppable. I heard "Who you feeling like?" in my head. Right now, you could be receiving lots of compliments, which boost your morale as a result. I am seeing a young girl toss her hair from side to side with her fingertips. In the back of your mind, you may worry about how long this version of you will last. You need to not allow the past comments of hate get to you at this time. Do not self-sabotage yourself because people could not see the light in you. Let the haters do the hating for you. You could have Saturn in the 12th house which relates to the subconscious. You need to have conversations with your inner child to heal. Move forward from the angst and the hurt people have caused you. Start anew. And most importantly, forgive yourself.

Cards Used: Ace of Wands, 2 of Cups, 10 of Cups, King of Discs, 4 of Cups, The Devil, 6 of Cups.

Pile Three: You are in this lover girl energy. It almost feels familiar --- the scenario that you have found yourself to be in. You need to look closer with this person. Everyone will pass your test if you don't do any further investigation. You have the tendency to get "stuck on" crushes for a long time. You could be prone to limerence. You are going to get the answer that you are looking for, a reality check. But it will be in your best interest, don't worry. You are trying to investigate from afar but this won't really benefit you. You need to pay close attention and start being less lenient. You're a cute girl and you know that, don't you? But what is cute if it means you lose your mind every time you find someone attractive? Part of your lesson in this life is to be more comfortable with accepting your beauty as is. You are not incomplete if you are not in an "OTP", love.

Cards Used: The Moon, The Empress, 4 of Discs, 4 of Wands, 10 of Cups, 5 of Wands, Justice, 2 of Discs

[skellseerwriting]

Pirates and Prejudice (and Dragons)

James Hook x GN! Dragon Rider!Reader Part 3

Pt.1 pt.2

Here’s the not-apology apology chapter!

Reader is disabled (prosthetic foot) and I am not disabled, so if anyone who’s reading this is please let me know if anything is written weirdly or wrongly

Word Count: 2,162

Warnings: Descriptions of phantom pains, some slight hurt/mostly comfort, romantic tension, mentions of injury, reader feels conflicted

Content: Hook starts avoiding reader, reader starts experiencing really bad phantom pains, someone arrives to help them, who could it be?

It was daunting, how little changed yet how big that change meant. Most of life went on the same, but the little differences meant everything.

Hook and his friends stopped bothering you. In fact, you hardly ever saw them. Maybe it was just because they would go out of their way to pick on you before, but it made it almost seem as if they were avoiding you. Which, yes, was nice, but that also included Hook.

Now, whenever you saw each other in hallways or on school grounds, he would practically move as far away from you as possible. Even in class he would try and take the seat farthest from yours. And every time, his face would look a stressful combination of fear, guilt, and some secret, third thing.

You hated it.

You hated seeing him avoid you when all you had wanted when you first met was to be friends; or acquaintances on good terms, at the very least. You despised that look that happened to share too much resemblance to pity, which was something you grew to hate since your injury. The way he almost tiptoed around you created an irritable, unscratch-able itch. His treatment of you was as if you were fragile; that if he got too close you would break. Well, if it continued, you weren’t sure how long you would last until you actually snapped.

An annoying side effect from all the stress were the phantom pains. Whenever they happened in the past you would go for a fly. School still being in session prevented that.

It’s not that the nurse didn’t understand your condition; She had in fact told you to go to her to sort out exceptions of attending class when needed, bless her heart. No, the reason you were determined to grit it out was because you were worried of rumors. If word got out of you skipping class, regardless of how valid the reason, you knew the social consequences of it.

You would not let people think you were weak.

You were not weak.

Grinding your teeth together out of pain, you told yourself that excusing yourself to the restroom near the end of class right before free period didn’t count. Nobody would be able to tell anything.

Still, it was hard.

You had went to your usual spot at the courtyard fountain, limping badly and starting to sweat over the feelings of pins at your ankle. It had never been this bad before. The only time it had been worse than this was during the recovery process a few years ago. As time had gone on, you forgot what that felt like. Pain surged through the area again, reminding you.

Massaging it was an option, but you did not want to do it out in the open. You felt vulnerable, open to the world. Your dorm was also so far away from here, just thinking about the walk made your foot feel worse.

Clenching your hands on your legs while trying to breath steadily, you continued to keep your eyes closed. Shut everything out.

 There is nothing around you but open air, you told yourself. That breeze you feel in front of you? That’s the wind hitting your face while flying on Beastie. The splashing of water behind you? A coursing waterfall you were flying close to. The person sitting to your left? They-

You opened your eyes.

No. Not him.

Anyone but him.

An extreme surge of pain occurred again. You couldn’t keep a still face and made a near-silent cry.

You knew he saw that and you hated it.

“Go away, please.” You whispered, doing everything in your power to not look at him. He only made it worse, being the source of your current stress and anxiety.

You sensed no movement.

“Hook, please.” you pleaded. “Please leave me alone.” You needed him to leave. One of your worst moments was on display and he was just watching. He could hear your tears even if he couldn’t see them, and he could definitely see you left shoe shaking uncontrollably. Why hasn’t he left?

A hand placed itself on your shoulder.

“Are you having phantom pains right now?” He asked softly. Surprised at the care and quietness in his voice, you looked at him. His face and his eyes held none of what they had before. There was no fear. There was no pitiful guilt. There was just endearing worry, along with that secret, third thing.

You nodded your head, fingers gripping the tough sides of the leather gear strapped onto your pants.

“Can I help you?” He whispered, head tilted closer to yours.

Part of you jumped at the question, desperate to say yes. The other part, unfortunately, was terrified. This man... This- pirate of a man, walked a tightrope in your mind between someone to avoid at all costs… and someone you were far too eager to get close to.

What would happen if you said yes? As sincere as he sounded, what if he was lying? Up until recently, all his cares towards you were to make your life miserable. What if he intended to get close to you just to hurt you at some farther point ahead? Your heart would surely break more than anything else.

But what if he meant it? What if he could help you in all the ways you needed, not only just now, but in the future? Would you finally find that solidarity you had been seeking? Ease of not feeling different here? Would he do that for you? Become that important to you?

Would you become that important to him?

You dwelled on that for a moment longer. Hook started to look nervous, perhaps wondering if you didn’t want him there after all. He wouldn’t have been surprised after everything he had done to you. Then, you said something to him.

“What?” He asked, thinking his ears had betrayed him. You gave him a tiny smile.

“Yes.” you breathed. “I said yes.”

His eyes crinkled into little crow’s feet, and that alone made it worth it to say.

Before even asking or telling him anything, he brought his right hand off your shoulder and turned away slightly, only to turn back a few seconds later with something shiny in his palm.

“This is my hook.” Ah, he was trying to distract you. Of course he knew that technique, since he would deal with phantom pains himself with his own hand. Although if you were being honest, him sitting inches away from you and sharing your air probably distracted you more than anything else. He was so close.

Smiling, you began to trace the little garnishes and engravings at the cylindrical part.

“It’s very pretty.” You told him plainly, focusing on the design instead of your foot. “Did someone make it for you?”

“Not exactly.” He said with an air of mischievousness. “I stole it from a famed prosthetics-maker during a long trip to the east.” Something about the way he said it made you think he was fibbing, but you let out a giggle nonetheless when he grinned at you- like he knew that you knew. “Want me to get a pretty foot for you?” He asked with a wink.

“Only if it matches your hook.” You joked lightly, not letting him have one over you with that last remark. Surprisingly, Hook started to stammer a little bit while turning pink.

Laughing, you shove his shoulder a little with your own. “Relax, I’m just kidding. My current one is fine the way it is; I can’t value appearance over durability and stability with my occupation.” He seemed to accept the answer, still flustered.

“Mine’s made of steel. So it has both strength and lightness.” He told you.

“Really?” You asked. “It looks rather heavy.”

“Here.” He said, setting it in your open hand. Wow, it was really light. “Can’t have my enemies be besting the greatest pirate captain of the seas.”

You snorted, running your finger over the metal curve. You swore you saw him shiver at that. “I find that hard to believe.”

Leaning closer, he said “You ride dragons. I thought you of all people know that we aren’t limited by our youth.”

Hearing the word “dragons” sent a jolt through your leg and you grimaced. Like hearing the cause of its loss was enough to make your foot feel it again. You’d almost forgotten about the pains now, and now they felt like they were starting to come back.

“Don’t say that.” You told him quietly, looking at his too-close-face so he could look in your eyes and understand that you were being serious.

“Say what?” He asked. His eyebrows scrunched upwards and his eyes filled with worry. You take a breath.

“The creature you just mentioned.” You told him with honesty, then looked dow again. “It’s making it worse right now.”

Realization must’ve clicked immediately in his brain because he moved his left arm into you field of view, showing his wrist without the hook that he took off earlier.

“I got mine eaten clean off by a crocodile.” He said, then gave a silly smirk. “It was my fault, really. I was being an idiot boy when I was fourteen- no, thirteen. A couple weeks after was my birthday and my mum gave me the hook for when I fully healed.”

You grinned; he had fibbed when he said how he obtained the hook. Glancing at your still shoe, you told him “I lost mine when I was thirteen too. My class was learning by watching our instructors handle a vicious one. Things got out of hand -quite literally- and next thing you know, due to some wicked sharp claws, I was out of foot.” You laugh a little at your joke. In the rare occasion you told someone what happened, you loved making the pun. Some laughed with you, some didn’t, and most looked at you like you were crazy. You didn’t let that bother you though, it was your trauma so you got to joke about it however you liked.

“I shouldn’t say I’m surprised.” Hook said. “I thought it might have something to do with dr- with those creatures. At least you get to tell people you lost it to one of them; how cool is that?” He ended excitedly.

You shrugged. “Most amputees from my home lost them the same way as me, so it’s pretty common to me.” Side-eying him and nudging his side you told him “I’ve never heard of stories of people losing limbs to crocodiles though, so I think yours is much cooler!”

He beamed a little. “Really?”

“Yes.” You told him. “Why would I lie to you, Hook?” He bristled a little.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh,” he waved you off with his hand. “Nothing really, I guess I didn’t expect you to call me that.”

“What? Hook?”

“Mhmm.”

“But… that’s your name?”

He looked into your eyes; his own moving back and forth between yours due to being so close. At some point you two had shifted closer and your legs were now touching.

“Hook,” He began slowly, moving his tongue around in his mouth to get the words right. “Is the name associated with the pirate. The Villain Kid. The bad person. All of which I’m completely fine with! Despite what others say or think, I’m happy with who I am. But-“ he softened his voice and leaned closer again. Much, much closer. “Hearing you call me by that name makes me feel like you only see those things. I know that’s not completely true,” he added, whispering “I just feel this ache in my heart when you say it. I don’t want you to call me that.”

Despite feeling your heart lodged in your throat, you managed to get out a “What would you like me to call you?”

A “hnn” came out of his lips and you couldn’t help by look at them. “Call me James.”

“James.” You said, testing his name on your tongue. His eyes went wild when you did so.

“Yes, darling?” He whispered. You leaned closer.

“I- “

The tower bell rung. Students started streaming out of doors and into the courtyard. You both jumped back. Then, H- James gets up.

“Meet me at the entrance after school.” He told you.

“Why?” You quiz, now blushing, holding up his hook for him.

He put it on then grabbed your hand before you could lower it.

“Because,” his eyes twinkled, now bowing at the waist. “I’m going to take you on an adventure!” And with that, he pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckle and walked away before you could even process what this charming boy had just done to you.

Extra:

Hook: Um, guys? Remember how Scarface said they wanted a peg leg?

Hook: Well… turns out they have a prosthetic foot…

Everyone:…

Maleficent: You’re such an idiot

Part 4

[admin-cock-creations]

Waxing Poetic

Fandom: Gravity Falls Pairing: College! Stanford Pines / Reader Summary: Stanford lets his thoughts wander, and he can't help but indulge himself a little when those thoughts instinctively come to you. Warnings: Recreational Drug Use

There weren’t many moments where Stanford allowed his thoughts to wander. And not just wander to thoughts of his next class or project but really and truly wander to things that itched at his mind in unscratchable ways. Such moments were often elusive to his grasp and took, laughably, a certain amount of concentration to achieve. Luck seemed to be his friend today; that itch came up again, and his roommate decided he needed the delicately balanced library environment to study, leaving Ford alone in their shared dorm.

The twin had absentmindedly waved over his shoulder to the leaving Fiddleford, nose too deep in his studies to truly take in the other’s words until he had been alone in the silence for nearly 15 minutes. As if some energy washed over him, Ford sat up straight at his desk, placing his book on the crowded surface and blinking his widened eyes like he’d been jolted into consciousness. Taking a moment to observe his surroundings, the man twisted side to side in his chair, relieving some of the tension in his back and making sure he was really and truly alone in the room. He’d surely be called a paranoid loon if someone saw him in his current state, but Stanford had fair reason to confirm the absence of his roommate.

Standing up, he quietly strode over to the door and flipped the lock to secure himself from someone barging in, letting out a shaky little breath of mixed emotion once he settled back at his desk.

Reaching over the piles of books, paperwork, and pencils, Ford nudged aside his curtains to tug open his window, giving himself a healthy little crack for air to flow through. His attention then turned to the desktop fan he kept at the corner of his workspace, adjusting it just so before flicking it on. He let the blades turn for a moment, watching in silence how the curtains fluttered with the airflow before nodding to himself and pulling open one of the many drawers in his desk.

College was a time for experimentation of all kinds, so it seemed only natural that Ford would end up trying the delights of recreational drug use at one point or another. Hell, he and Stan had snuck their first cigarettes back in their freshman year of high school, so he was no stranger to smoking. Of course, he hadn’t taken to cigarettes quite like Stanley had, though he had smoked at least a couple more in the years until this point in his life. Still, that didn’t mean Ford had separated himself from all forms of smoking. Fiddleford had shared his first time smoking marijuana, and while Fidds didn’t seem keen on having another go, Ford discovered he quite liked the sensation. It stilled some overworking part of his brain and allowed him a moment to breathe. Oftentimes, it even ended up helping him work better if he found himself in a slump caused by his methodical madness.

Fingers nudged aside some small containers of gummies and a Tupperware with a half-eaten cookie inside, deciding this wasn’t an occasion for edibles. He needed a proper smoke. Ford’s brows furrowed as he pulled out the drawer to its full depth, sorting through pencils and pens until he found what he was searching for: a neatly rolled blunt that had migrated to the back of the drawer. His matchbook was kept on his person as a habit now, having come across so many classmates asking for a light or needing it in his labs. It had become a familiar little weight in his pocket, and he was happy to pull it out and strike up a match as he held his blunt between his lips. The crack in the window and the fan made for a nifty flow of air that quickly swept up the evidence of Ford’s rule-breaking, grateful that the autumn breeze worked in his favor.

Leaning back in his chair, Ford let out a blissful sigh and a lungful of smoke, letting the warmth seep into his mind and body and relax the muscles he hadn’t even realized he was clenching. Thankfully there was an old cup of coffee nearby he could flick his ashes into, because he certainly didn’t feel like getting up again now that his joint was lit.

Slowly and mindlessly, Stanford smoked down his joint, finding himself in a delightful state of bliss when he was left with little more than a quarter of his original joint. He decided he didn’t need to smoke anymore today and was perfectly content with his current state, so he carefully snubbed out the embering end of the joint with full intentions of saving the rest for another time. For now, it rested between his fingers as Ford enjoyed the solace of his freed mind. His gaze was seemingly focused on his hand, but in truth, he was miles away, drifting peacefully until he blinked and came back into the present.

Now he was looking at the mostly spent joint, and his thoughts flowed easily to thoughts of you, his drug dealer. But you were more than just that. You were his classmate, his friend, a fellow intellectual, and someone he respected and admired, perhaps in a less than platonic way.

Ford had met you in an art course, something he had taken out of interest and to fill up a slot in his time. You sat next to one another during lectures, and it was almost instantly clear that you held a brilliance of your own. While Ford saw the world in numbers and equations, you saw it in shapes and colors, and it was so wonderfully enlightening and entertaining to share conversations with you just to get a glimpse of how your mind worked.

But even more than smart you were kind, and pretty. You had been the one who offered your ‘services’ to Ford, able to readily supply any type of marijuana product he could imagine, not to mention you baked an incredible infused cookie, so he didn’t feel so awkward about seeking out supply from a stranger he didn’t know. Sometimes, you even got high together, sharing edibles in the privacy of your own dorm while chatting and laughing to yourselves over a movie or TV show. Could he really be blamed for taking such a liking to you when you were so warm and genuine? The thoughts of you, despite their simplicity, quickly turned into fleeting moments of wondering that had a different and familiar kind of heat rising in Ford’s jeans.

Giving in to himself, Ford undid the button and zipper on his pants, shoving his thumbs under his waistband and lifting his hips just enough to tug his jeans and briefs partly down his thighs, exposing his hardening cock. He couldn’t help but wonder about less than pure things regarding you. He wondered what your lips would feel like against his, what you looked like under your clothes, how you’d look under him, how you’d sound whimpering his name.

“Sh-shit…”

Taking himself in hand, he began to work up a firm pace stroking his cock, the joint now free from his fingers and his opposite hand supporting the weight of his head with an elbow upon the desk. His brows furrowed, his lower lip tucked between his teeth, his intoxicated mind unchained and swarming with the lustful thoughts he normally did his best to keep tucked away.

He thought back to a moment in your dorm, where you’d both gotten high and found yourselves in uncontrollable fits of laughter over something he couldn’t remember now. You were literally falling all over each other, smiling and unworried about how your hands wandered and fought to support yourselves and the other person. You’d been so close, if he had tilted his head right you would have been kissing.

Ford suddenly whimpered, a leg kicking slightly as he found himself working up to a peak rather quickly. He couldn’t pick what thought of you to focus on, what memory to choose, what words to morph your voice into, but it seemed his own hungry mind had decided all that for him. In a vision of his own fantasy, you were sprawled beneath him on his bed, laid bare for his eyes and hands to take in, moaning and gasping in time with his stroking as if he were pounding into you.

“Ford… please…”

He’d heard you say that before, but never in a context like this, nothing so filthy. But now it was so easy to piece those words into the gaps of his mind, gritting his teeth and huffing as he bucked into his fisted hand until Ford finally found himself spilling his release across the floor. Panting and swallowing thickly, it took a few solid moments until he felt strength come back to his legs, forcing himself to stand up and begin cleaning up his mess and the remaining evidence of his smoke break before Fiddleford returned from the library.

Perhaps one day he’d have the nerve to admit his interest in you, but for now, he’d just enjoy your shared moments and the escapism of his mind.

[kimberbohwrites]

Can't believe I hit 150 Followers that fast. Thank you. I wrote my little heart out to get this done in time.

Do I Wanna Know?

Featuring a prompt from @sorceresssundries who handed out song-based prompts and assigned me: "Do I Wanna Know?" by: The Arctic Monkeys. Rated: Explicit, MDNI, 18+ (Smut) Word Count: 3,165 Kudos/Comment on AO3

The air was thick and humid, it hung heavy on the city, clinging in all the worst ways — like a wet blanket. It had been like this for days now, with nary a breeze to grant them even a moment’s solace from the oppressive heat. Children ran down to splash in the Chionthar, while adults lounged in the shadiest spaces they could find and fanned themselves — hoping for a moment of reprieve from the sun. Baldur’s Gate ground to a halt in the face of a sustained heatwave, filling the long summer days with an unusually lazy energy for such a bustling city.

It wasn’t the temperature that agitated the grouchy tiefling as he sat in his desk chair, a different heat had been consuming his body and soul. It had been weeks since the final battle and he hadn’t seen or heard from Tav. Sure, he had heard of her survival through the paper and the gossip on the streets. But that wasn’t the same.

The last time he’d seen her things had been awkward to say the very least. She had defeated, with his assistance, his abusive former master and the mantle of the Archwizard of Baldur’s Gate had suddenly fallen to him. Every moment since then had been filled with the constant demand from his new responsibilities but in the back of his mind, Tav constantly lingered. It had taken him too long to realize his obvious feelings. It wasn’t until just before the final battle, when he considered losing her for the first time, that he became fully aware. He hadn’t slept in the days that followed that, not until he was sure she had survived.

And yet, she hadn’t stopped by to see him, there was so much to do he knew, rebuilding and resting, but her absence still hounded him like an itch gone unscratched. When his eyes closed at night, she was always waiting for him. He let himself dream of a reality where it was her, in the flesh, waiting for him in his bed each night. Hours of sleep were lost to imagining how she would feel against him, under him — imagining her taste or how she might sound as she cried out for him.

He’d felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach when he’d started touching himself to these thoughts. Trying to turn his mind elsewhere had failed and the first time he’d come to the thought of her he had almost passed out from the pleasure. There was no turning back for him now and like a dehydrated sailor at sea who drinks saltwater, it had only worsened the problem and drove him to seek release to his fantasies of her more often.

He’d become desperate for her, and he felt a little pathetic.

The worst part was the constant wondering. Could she ever feel the same? Did he even want to know the answer? Would he ever see her again? These damned questions nagged at him more than any heat could. After a few evening glasses of Arabellen Dry, he’d found he could think of nothing else and letting his questions consume him. It made him feel better to imagine that she was doing the same, in her cups and thinking of him. 

In his imagination and even in his dreams, she comes bounding to his door to confess her love, all flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. Lately there seemed to be no escape from her hold over him.

His siblings had been nothing but helpful, always picking on his pining for her and the fact that he never acted on it. They had tried to take his mind off things, and he’d gone out with them, only for them to point out attractive people he might approach. He’d even tried to be a good sport, tried to chat up whomever they pointed out, tried to find them interesting but there was never any spark. Before long he’d realized the problem was that in his mind, he was already Tav’s. Tears had brimmed in his eyes and a heaviness had set in his heart when he realized that even if he never saw her again, he’d always be hers.

It wasn’t fair.

Surely, she had done some trick, some cheat to make him feel this way? How else could he explain this constant longing that he felt. He was an arch mage, for gods sake, he was resigned to pull himself together. Every time he thought he’d managed to banish the obsession he was humbled by failure once more, most recently by a street performer out in front of the shop.

He’d been closing up after a long, steaming day and as he’d gone to lock the doors he spotted the buskers setting up to ply their trade for the evening. Even a city as lively at night as The Gate can fall victim to an influx of evening debauchery when the days had proven to be too warm for life’s pleasures. So, the performers in the heatwave had taken to setting up after sundown, better to catch a paying audience on these busy, sinful summer nights.

The musician was inconsequential to Rolan. It was the opening ballad he’d strummed that Rolan had overheard as he locked up that caught his attention. The opening notes stopped him in his tracks before he’d closed the doors, the song was one of the ones Alfira had played that night at the Emerald Grove, when they’d spent the evening under the stars in celebration of their continued survival. He’d spent the night trying to work up the courage to talk to her, not understanding then that the anxiety he felt in his gut was the beginning of all of this.

Finally, after some liquid courage, a few dazzling spells, and her adoring applause he’d approached her just as Alfira had struck up this very song.

“I love this one,” she’d said

He’d barely heard her, distracted by her eyes in firelight, how could he have not known then?

“Beautiful,” he’d said before he realized his mouth was moving.

“It is, isn’t it?” She’d agreed

In hindsight he was almost positive he wasn’t talking about the song, but he had been grateful for the easy out. As his mind drifted back from the memory of her breathtaking eyes, the bard had finished the song and Rolan strode out with a hand fishing in his pocket for coins.

“Play it again”

The coins plunked into the case as the bard grinned at the handsome tip and began the song over. Rolan strode away slowly back to the tower, letting the melody hold him in that beautiful memory once more. In truth he’d have paid the musician a small fortune to play the song over and over until he’d drifted off to sleep if he was sure that Cal and Lia wouldn’t have caught him. He’d fallen asleep to thoughts of her and dreamed of her that night, and every night following that tenday.

The hot days continued, growing to an intolerable level. Maybe that was why he’d agreed to go out again with his siblings. This time instead of the Blushing Mermaid they were hitting up the Elfsong Tavern to visit Alfira and Lakrissa, Dammon, and the rest of the group. Alfira had reserved the rooftop for a special sundown party in the small but lovely space.

As the sun went down a cool breeze began to blow off the Sea of Swords for the first time since the start of the heatwave. It picked up the strands of his hair and lightly tossed them as the wind kissed his sweat soaked skin, finally cooling him off for the first time in days. He was already one glass of wine in when he spotted her coming up from the ladder that led to the roof.

Tav was here.

He tried not to notice her, instead engrossing himself deeper in his talk with Dammon about some ore or another — to be honest he hadn’t been listening but was content to nod along. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her be greeted by their hosts, who were clearly thrilled to see her. She looked beautiful. It didn’t matter if he’d noted a few new minor scars on her skin, likely from the final battle — she was a vision of beauty regardless. Her bright smile seemed to radiate light even after sundown. Her laughter, the very same sweet melody that haunted him. 

When she finally approached him after a few minutes, he was already fighting to play it cool.

“It feels like it might rain,” she said casually to him as a greeting, her bright smile forcing his heart to skip a beat or two.

“Preposterous, it’s been bone dry for weeks”

“Then I suppose it’s high time for some rain, huh?”

He didn’t respond. Thinking carefully about his words.

His eyes swept up and down her frame, admiring the curves and the toned muscle displayed in the minimal sundress she’d worn against the heat. Gods he wanted her so bad and here she was, just a few inches away. But there was no way that she would want him too, he’d already convinced himself of that fact.

“You haven’t visited,”

“Did you miss me, Rolan?”

The blush that crept across his cheeks was only disguised by the evening as he glanced away to compose himself. Even though the rooftop was filled with at least a dozen other people he knew, whenever he spoke with Tav it felt like they were the only two people around. When he turned his attention back to her, he couldn’t help but flick his gaze down to her lips for the briefest second. Gods how he felt the constant urge to put his lips on hers, threatening to plunge him into madness.

“Cal and Lia miss you, is all”

Before she could respond, a single fat rain drop plopped down on her cheek and she glanced up. After a moment a few more heavy drops of rain followed and people began to flee the roof to protect their drinks and fine clothes. The temperature dropped quickly but Rolan didn’t move, maintaining eye contact with Tav as the roof cleared. All around them steam hissed up from the quenched streets and stonework. He’d waited too long to see her, and he wasn’t wasting this moment.

The rain had charged the air between them, or maybe it was the fact that they were alone — but something had shifted the atmosphere.

“Rolan—“

“Quiet.”

She looked shocked, almost stricken until he blurted the rest out.

“Can I kiss you?”

The shock lingered on her face only a moment longer, replaced by a coy smile as she nodded in agreement.

He was on her in a moment, lips pressed to hers, fingers in her wet hair. The drinks they’d been holding crashed to the ground as they lunged at each other with an unrestrained passion. He felt her tongue on his lips and opened up to her, angling her face to deepen their kiss as the rain came down around them.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

He panted out the truth when they finally broke only for oxygen.

“Me too”

He pushed her up against a stone column on the roof with a sudden movement at her confession, claiming her lips with his once more.

“Rolan —“She gasped out, “Are you sure? We shouldn’t do this if you aren’t sure.”

He broke away and pressed his forehead against hers.

“I have dreamed of you, of this, every night for longer than I care to admit. Tav I missed you, not Cal, not Lia — I missed you. So much so that had I known where you were I would have crawled to be there by your side. I- I love you, Tav.”

The storm, the rain, it all faded away when he heard her breathe out her next five words with tears in her beautiful eyes.

“I love you too, Rolan.”

He kissed her hard, wrapping her legs around his waist as his tail coiled around her ankles to hold her there. She tasted like wine and fresh summer rain. Deceptively strong, Rolan lifted her easily from against the wall and carried her to the only slight shelter available on the roof. It was a small, covered area, safely out of sight of any onlookers or would-be voyeurs on the ground. 

“Mine” he growled between kisses as he gently lowered her to the ground with him on top, supporting his weight on his forearms. His body caging hers against the elements.

“Yours” she murmured sweetly in agreement.

Her hands eagerly shot up to begin stripping the wet clothes from his body, her soft fingers tracing the ridges on any exposed skin she could find. He groaned into the hot kisses he laved down her neck and ground his hard length against her core. She was so openly eager for him, and it drove him to the brink of a feral lust. She moaned as she felt his tail coil up and around her leg, up the skirt of her dress. Before long she’d worked off his robes and his top, their lips never leaving each other’s skin as her fingers traced down his ridged torso. When she began to untie the laces of his trousers, a wry laugh escaped him as pretended to chastise her.

“My, my, greedy as always, aren’t we?”

She bit her lip and groaned in response, his words having the desired effect. At the same time the spade of his tail made contact with her dripping cunt and Rolan was surprised to discover it was bare. A low moan of need followed her groan as she felt his tail begin to stroke at her folds.

“Rolan,” she gasped

He covered her mouth with hers once more with another bruising kiss, still too eager for her and caught up in the moment. His tail gently teased at her entrance, swirling around and preparing her while his hands lowered her dress and exposed her breasts to him. Moving down to tongue at an exposed nipple while gently rolling the other between his claws, ever cautious of his horns at this angle.

Her hands stroked his hardened cock from the moment she freed it from his pants, applying a gentle but firm pressure as she worked him in her fist. He was groaning into her skin as he licked and sucked at every exposed part he could find. Meanwhile his tail pushed into her, slowly working in and out of her warmth as he prepared her. No longer could she contain her pleasure in small sounds, if not for the rain her moans would be heard clearly from the ground. 

Surely the heatwave had driven him to madness over the previous weeks or he’d died of a related affliction and hadn’t realized it. It seemed impossible that he could be on top of the Tav, fucking her with his tail while she jerked him off and screamed for more. But when he opened his eyes, she was still there, now begging for him.

“Please, please Rolan” she moaned as he worked her to her first climax with his tail, hands, and mouth.

“First,” He stopped and slowly licked from her belly button up to her sternum, tasting the fresh rainwater from on her supple skin, “cum on my tail, Tav.”

That was all it took. He felt her walls clench and flutter around him, as she called his name and drenched his tail with her desire. It had been lucky that in her pleasure she’d let go of his cock. Otherwise, he was sure he would have finished just from her hand and the sound of his name on her lips as she came undone just for him.

Gently removing his tail, he lined himself up with her entrance, now better prepared for his size. He may have been shy about the many tiefling traits he’d inherited but he’d never complained about his size. Nor had he ever heard a complaint from any lover, for that matter. Leaning up to kiss her, he looked deeply into her eyes, finally not afraid to let his unabashed love show through — with a silent question he searched to be sure he wasn’t going too far.

“Rolan,” she mewled desperately

He plunged into her, gritting his teeth to keep from cumming on the spot. They moaned in tandem at the sensation, their bodies fitting together in a way that left them lightheaded.

“Gods you feel perfect” he ground out

“Fuck,” she moaned, “You’re huge”

He remained motionless, allowing her time to adjust to his size and fighting the growing urge to claim her roughly on the ground like an animal. Next time he’d have her in his bed and he’d fuck her through the mattress. But not on the hard roof of the Elfsong, and thus he fought against his instincts.

Once she nodded for him to continue, he began to rock in and out of her gently. Even with taking his tail first she was still tight around him, and he could feel the ridges of his cock drag against her walls deep within. He cursed himself for pining after her for so long as he began to fuck into her deeper, he already knew he wouldn’t last long now that he was inside her. Determined to prove himself in body, he needed to make her scream for him at once more before he could finish for himself.

He dropped to put her knees on his shoulders, using his tail to hold them together behind his neck as he adjusted his angle to pound deeper into her. Gently, as to avoid his claws, he used the pads of his fingers to rub her clit — eliciting cries of pleasure from her that were so sinfully perfect, he knew they’d fill his dreams until his last day.

“Rolannnn,” She nearly wailed his name as her cunt began to clench and flutter around his cock.  

“That’s it Tav, do it for me, cum for me, you’re mine.”

He coached her over the edge into bliss and watched her eyes roll back in her head as she screamed his name and came all over his cock. That was it for him, he buried himself deep within her and came with a grunt. Filling her as he ground his hips into hers, he dropped her legs and kissed her again. Breathless from their collective ecstasy, only the sound of their pants and the delicate evening rain hung between them.

“I want this,” He finally broke the silence, feeling bolder with her in his arms.

“Me too, we could be together, if you wanted to.” Rolan couldn’t help but smile into the next kiss he gave hers. After all this time of being hers, finally she was his too.

[ebongawk]

Chrissy Cunningham, convinced at 18 that she was a Beta as she hadn't presented yet (much to the disappointment of her Alpha mother and Alpha boyfriend), is partnered with Eddie Munson for a class project.

(Everyone calls him a Freak for being different – for not adhering to the standards of the average Alpha. Chrissy never really got close enough to form an opinion.)

Suddenly cast in this strange, different Alpha's orbit at least twice a week, Chrissy finds herself acting... weird.

Jealousy – something she'd never felt with her actual boyfriend – rears up every time she sees Eddie talking to other people. Though not every person, which she finds strange.

The longer she sits beside him, the more her skin feels hot and prickly. An unscratchable itch that marches like fire ants beneath the surface of her flesh.

When Jason – who, for some reason, has started to repulse her – insults Eddie, she finds herself gnashing her teeth, like her jaw wants to snap together and take off his inferior little fingers. Vehement defense sits on the tip of her tongue, as impossible to swallow down as the bland, tasteless steamed vegetables she's served for dinner every night.

A new type of hunger rears up. One she isn't sure she has ever felt before.

Probably isn't anything, though. Right?

[leapdayowo]

Redstone and Skulk OC time :3

Thought I’d turn my persona into a rns oc and give them a helsmet :3 I basically looked at my play style in Minecraft and took a few things from my own life and combined them to create these two! Short version about them below and a little story of their origins under that:

short version:

-Leapday_art (short version Leapday, she/he/they, the player) is afraid of losing important things in their life. He is very cautious about doing anything that could result in him dying and loosing everything in his inventory (sleeps through the night everytime to avoid monsters, barely visits the nether, strip mines, etc) +the cats next to Leapday are two of my darling kitties who unfortunately passed away irl, their names are Toby (left) and Toes (right)

-Nightfall_collections (short version Nightfall, all pronouns, the helsmet) was created from Leapday’s extreme fear of losing valuables and her grief from having lost valuables too many times. Xyr driving goal is to collect and preserve everything that xe can and to make sure there is always at least one copy

-other things about Nightfall: she is a magma cube hybrid while Leapday is a ??? hybrid player (if you read the story below this may make more sense👀). Nightfall can split into smaller duplicates which allows them to be in more places at once and thus more productive in their goal. She uses her goop-like body to write reminders on her clothes, then re-absorbs the goop later

-I think Nightfall would find himself as an organizer between lots of different parties/people in Hels due to being so dedicated to his goal + only being dedicated to this goal (his alignment is probably chaotic good because he’s loyal to his own goals and not to other people or outside rules. He does not take bribes or backstab). Also, Nightfall does not need to have possession of everything, but xe is trying to keep tabs on where everything that exist is at(this makes xem the go-to person for trying to obtain something in particular)

-I think Nightfall would become a sponsor (if that’s the right word?) for the Order of Remembrance because she greatly admires the work they do to preserve Hels’ history. She would also love Zedaph’s hall of all and definitely tries to work with private collectors to protect (and document/track) what they have (and she will keep what she knows a secret if it means protecting valuable things)

-Nightfall does not care about thieves unless they steal one of a kind things

-the doodles below were my earlier concepts, so Nightfall has green eyes before I realized it’s much more fitting for xem to have orange eyes

okay, okay, story time (because I realized the ‘short’ version was getting very extensive):

Maybe it had started in the very first world she spawned in. A brilliant blue sky that stretched over jagged, looming cliffs with forests scattered underneath. Trickling waterfalls and bubbling lava pits here and there. The natural beauty of the world left Leapday in awe and eager to explore what other wonders lay beyond the horizon.

It must have started with the first tree she broke, a squat little oak, one of hundreds in the forest. When the leaves of that little oak had all fallen, saplings littered the grassy floor. She should’ve been excited, feel triumphant even by taking down the tree, after all it’s how the journey had to start. Except, all that Leapday could see was the awkward gap in the canopy from the absence of the little oak. It felt like an itch unscratched, nagging and uncomfortable. Well that wouldn’t do.

They scooped up all the saplings littering the floor and planted one in the same dirt plot the little oak was uprooted from. Then they planted a few more just for good measure. The unease lingered, but planting the saplings felt good. It felt right. Now their adventure could truly begin!

——

In this world, Leapday’s only companions were the pigs and sheep that he passed on his journey, though he would argue, if there were someone to argue with, that the world itself brought him company enough. That the days and nights passing was a conversation between the universe and Leapday, and thus a consistent companion. And what gifts did the universe provide for him to find! Rushing rivers that fed into powerful oceans, plenty of trees to sleep in and collect, and mountains to climb with the best views of the sunset. Never a dull moment for him as there was always something new to experience and see.

However, despite all its gifts, the universe was slow to explain the finer mechanics of the world, such as health to Leapday. A week of traversing through thick forests and steep cliffs left them battered and bruised. They learned how to gauge the distance of a drop and how to place blocks to minimize the pain in their ankles from falls. A similar pain gnawed from the inside of their stomach, which they discovered was briefly satiated by devouring the apples that fell from the trees.

During one climb up a particularly harrowing cliff, Leapday learned about the unforgiving weight of sand by placing it under her feet in order to reach the next ledge. The block had crumbled in a near instant, sending her plummeting towards the ground. Instead of hitting the hard rocks below, she splashed into a stream from a nearby waterfall. When she had dragged herself onto land and her heart had steadied to a more familiar pace, she let out a fit of bewildered laughter that overwhelmed the panic from moments ago. She knew falls much shorter than this one could take days to recover from, so what kind of pain would she be in if she hadn’t gotten lucky and fallen in the stream? Something cold ran through her and sank to the pit of her stomach. Dread of what could have been, what could still be if she wasn’t more careful. She resolved to never find out what would happen. How unfortunate that her next fall would be into a pit of lava, the very one she had been camping at throughout the nights.

He was being careful, more so than he had been for the first week in this world anyways. That didn’t seem to matter because he had still slipped when placing the block before him and fallen. It was his first respawn, and it introduced him to a few new things like a punch to the face. The first revelation was the agony of burning to death, and death itself. He curled into himself, crying at the phantom feeling of the lava eating at his flesh. The intense heat and how the lava had trapped him in place and burned. It was a twisted version of the warmth of the sun, which was shining down on him and in comparison felt as cool as the air in caves. The second realization came slowly as the memory of fire ebbed. Their knuckles no longer popped and their joints no longer ached. The tightness in their muscles had vanished, leaving softer tissue on the bone and the emptiness in their stomach no longer hurt. They felt new and full of energy, ready to begin their journey again. How strange they had forgotten what this felt like. White scars from their oldest injuries and freckles from sun touched skin still littered their body. They had died, but now were in perfect health again. Leapday took in her surroundings, her face lighting up with delight at the sight of a familiar oak tree. It had grown into quite the study tree since the start of her adventure. Soon after her reunion, Leapday discovered her now empty inventory when she reached for blocks to place in order to climb the canopy. The absence of stacks of logs, dirt, and sand had her racing towards the lava pit before her mind could catch up. Panic pushed her feet to run faster and dodge every obstacle. She ignored nicks from branches in her way and the sting of sharp rocks on her bare feet. The timer was ticking down. Her items would be gone- she just had to- if she wasn’t fast enough-

She burst through the tree line and was greeted by the familiar heavy heat of the lava pit. The sight of it made her recoil out of fear of falling back in even from many blocks away. On shaky legs, she circled the perimeter and searched for her items. The timer was still ticking, but they were nowhere to be seen! She crept as close as she dared to the lava and swept her eyes across the surface of the pool. Then she darted into the surrounding trees looking high and low.

Nothing.

No logs. No saplings or dirt or anything!

This was their third lesson. You lose items after death, and lava destroys those items.

Don’t die, especially not in lava, and don’t lose your items.

Now they had to start over, and this time not dying proved to be harder than expected. More falls and similar accidents happened. Zombies began appearing, persistent in their pursuit of Leapday’s flesh. Then skeletons, creepers, and spiders appeared and introduced many more ways one could die. The pain from the deaths hurt, but they became mundane as weeks turned to months. Loosing items became more painful and frightening when Leapday discovered crafting. More time and resources were needed to start over after dying with crafted items, so they took to the world underground. They followed their instinct to craft pickaxes and torches, to chip away at the stone in search of more sturdy materials. They crafted their first stone pickaxe and found it to be superior to the wooden one.

Maybe it truly started with that wooden pickaxe. When she crafted the stone tools, the wooden pickaxe sat in her hotbar, still good for half a day’s work but now obsolete. It had served her well to progress her journey, a necessary step, but it felt wrong to simply set it aside. It felt like the gap in the canopy all over again, but she very well couldn’t plant the pickaxe in the ground and solve her unease. Not sure what else to do, she attached it to her hip and went on with her day. She wouldn’t destroy it or toss it, she would simply carry it with her until she found what she needed to do with it next. It became her new companion (it was her first crafted tool. It was the first and therefore the only one that would ever exist).

Now equipped with wood and stone blocks, Leapday built their base over their mine. The wooden pickaxe found its place over the doorway leading outside, marking the build as their home. It felt right, so they continued their expansions. Farms were planted along a nearby river and fences placed to corral cows and sheep. Torches were the one item they were generous with. They were thrown across their property liberally since their light would deter creepers spawning too close for comfort.

During a thunderstorm that had picked up abruptly one morning, Leapday poked around at their communicator. It was a lightweight device that had been attached to their forearm since first spawning into the world and never disappeared after dying. After lots of fiddling with the different menus and buttons on the screen, they came across YouCraft. It was an archive of videos made by other players scattered across the universe, documenting their own worlds and progress! With the storm still crashing down around Leapday’s base, they curled up in bed and began watching the first video that caught their eye. It turned out that he had lots more to learn about the universe! After waiting out the storm, and then the night, by watching these videos, he learned about other biomes and blocks still left to discover as well as potions, enchanting, and other dimensions! A dragon was where this journey led for most players, though some took their time getting to it. Above all, he realized he needed diamonds. Diamonds were what every player sought due to their strength, but they were rare and dangerous to collect being so deep underground. They were needed to further Leapday’s journey however, so collecting them became his top goal. Quickly he learned how impossible achieving this goal would be. Well, it seemed impossible after spending days underground chipping at the cold stone and coming up empty. Strange echoes rang through the tunnels and more than a few times paranoia of something (or someone. He had heard the legends of Herobrine) sneaking up on him was enough to make him hole up for hours. Grey, grey stone that went on for miles. Grey cobblestone trailed behind him when his inventory filled. Leapday found other minerals, but the sparkling teal of diamonds still lay buried elsewhere. He mined for so long he began to doubt that the rare mineral even generated in this world. That only grey existed. That was until he broke away the next layer of stone before him and found himself staring uncomprehending at the bits of teal poking through stone. Uncontainable joy broke through his shock like sunlight through parting storm clouds. They were real! Diamonds were real and right in front of him! Invigorated with new energy, Leapday got to work extracting the diamonds just as they had seen others do. The amount paled in comparison to the stacks other players had, but in that moment he didn’t care. It was enough to have found them and confirm they even existed in this world. That weeks of sore arms digging at indifferent stone and unsteady gravel caches falling finally amounted to their new prized possession.

By the time he arrived back at his base, the novelty of finding diamonds began to wear off. He had to admit it was a measly amount. Just barely enough for a diamond pickaxe. What good would a stronger pickaxe be with no enchantments or replacements for when it broke? It had taken so long to find just a few diamonds what were the chances of finding more? No, they wouldn’t craft anything with the rare mineral until they had enough for spares and back ups. So back to the mines they went, and excruciatingly slow they found more, and continued to reason that crafting them was a poor decision. What if an accident happened and they couldn’t get back to their stuff? If they were swallowed by a pit of lava? So much time would be spent only to be wasted. Almost like their thoughts and fears had manifested it, a freak lava incident happened not long after. Leapday had been feeling good that day, so good because their most recent mining trip had yielded 13 diamonds and another cluster just across a lava lake. As they bridged across the lake, plans of finally crafting their collection of diamonds began to form making them giddy. It was the type of giddy that made any obstacle feel like child’s play and beyond consequence. That they finally could start progressing on their journey once more. It was enough to distract Leapday from the crunch of gravel under their feet and for their pickaxe to swing off its mark into the unsteady floor. The ground gave way and sent her tumbling into the lava.

She woke up screaming in her bed. Screaming from agony of ghostly flames that ate flesh, and then from loss and frustration. It wasn’t fair! Her luck had just turned up for the best and now all of it was gone! Every plan to use the diamonds tossed out the window and into a burning pit of despair. How stupid of her to not notice the gravel! All that time for nothing! She should have called it a day and come up 13 diamonds richer with plenty of levels for enchanting. All her gear and tools and items from mineshafts would still be intact, but no. Her head was too far in the clouds and now it was gone. She hadn’t even had the foresight to mark the cave to return to, so sure of her victory. There would be no hope navigating the twisting and sprawling tunnels below, and even if she tried to go back, the sight of lava would probably be enough to make her hurl. Fat tears began dripping down her face as she cursed and wallowed. They blurred his vision, so with a few steadying breaths and a final gross sniffle, he wiped at his eyes. Then he went to swing his legs over the bed to pick up the pieces of his day and froze. On his hand, both hands actually, were thick black smudges of… of something. What was that? He reached up to his face and traced the wet tear tracks with a clean finger. It too came away covered in the strange goop. An incredulous laugh burst from him, which evolved into hysterical crying. More tears fell from his eyes and he let them. The tangled web of grief in his chest unraveling as he did so, and he felt the last of his energy drain away until-

Sunlight trickled through the curtains and roused Leapday from their sleep. Birds were chirping and the familiar sounds of the animals grazing and leaves rustling cradled their mind while the events of the previous day trickled back to them. They felt heavy and gross. Their eyes crusty and mouth dry as a desert were a sure sign of their emotional distress. Disappointment felt like stones being dropped on them when they pulled up their empty inventory. It really was all gone. They let their head flop back onto their pillow and took a steadying breath, trying to recount the reasons they should get out of bed. Maybe they would stick to the joys of the world above ground for a month or two. Take up weaving or painting. They had plenty of resources to finally build a barn and an expansion to the house. Maybe they would go with a grassy roof.

Yeah. That could be alright. With one final sigh, Leapday pushed themself up off their bed and dragged themself over to their cauldron to clean up. They could see from their reflection that only a few faint smudges remained on their face, which they gently wiped away. Crying black goop was probably not normal now that their mind was more stable to think it over. Or maybe it was normal? It had never happened before, but the players on YouCraft all had their own quirks that Lepaday lacked, so maybe it was normal for them?

It turned out the inky tears were a new normal. From that incident onward, whenever they experienced a great sense of loss the strange tears formed and sank into the ground. They appeared when Leapday lost their first wolf companion and when they accidentally deleted a creative world full of builds of an ambitious project.

Meanwhile…

in another world…

In Hels, black goop bubbled to the surface of a sea of lava. From a distance, the surface seemed its usual hungry self, shifting and popping as it patiently waited for Hels and its inhabitants to finally crumble in. The goop was not consumed by its hunger however. It stretched towards the netherrack shore like a snake in water. Once it had gathered all of itself onto more solid ground, it sat and waited for more of itself to arrive, bouncing and bubbling over the terrain in the meantime. They could only wait so long however, after all, there was much to collect and preserve and too little time to do so.

And it’s finished! Whew, I don’t typically write, so this was a lot to work on amidst all my finals projects (totally worth it tho! It was great practice). I wasn’t planning on writing so much about leapday, but then I realized the interesting potential of writing about players when they’re new to the world. If they are akin to gods, they still enter the world with a lot to learn. The goop at the end is Nightfall, who then went on to travel Hels and collect as many blocks and items as xe could before xe came across the city Evil X established. At first they were incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of stuff to preserve in the city and mostly stuck to collecting free scraps and garbage. It probably did something to gain the attention of a member of the Order of Remembrance, who taught Nightfall about their goals and a few things about how society/Hels worked. From there, Nightfall set off to establish a massive collection and documentation of anything and everything, working with people in the process but also quite an eccentric personality that can be quite a hermit when buried in paperwork (not many people are willing to do paperwork as diligently as Nightfall)

Also, YouCraft is YouTube in the Minecraft world :P I felt I needed to separate it from our version of mcyt because in this universe the characters are real and making videos about their lives rather than people playing a video game (at least that’s how I’m headcanoning it)

thank you @silverskye13 for providing some more lore about Hels and the Order of Remembrance (as well as Redstone and Skulk as a whole <3) as well as inspiring me to keep trying to improve my writing and thank you to @/yayforocs for inspiring me to finally make my own rns OCs and this post :3

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline WIP Wednesday

This is my humble contribution to this wip Weds! It's a tiny little snippert from the next chapter of Speed Dating, which has been sitting untouched for way too long. Genuinely hoping this might give me the will to keep going because I am this 🤏 close to the finish line (before editing starts and the finish line gets away from me again but shhhh, we're not going there yet).

--

She doesn't see Elijah again for the next two days. Whatever he's in town for, he either glides around the apartment like a ghost or their schedules are totally at odds. If not for the extravagantly fancy woolen overcoat by the door and what she has quickly learned is a very particular brand of moodiness for Klaus, she would've thought he'd already left.

It's probably for the best, considering the horror of that first meeting, but curiosity is an unscratchable itch. Elijah has intrigued her for years, more so than any of Klaus’ other siblings. Putting a face - well, a little more than a face, really - to the person is a given, but she can't help the desire to dig deeper. It’s in her nature to be nosy. About him, about Klaus, about the whole family. 

Despite the fact she's lived with one and been friends with another for years, the Mikaelsons remain a mystery to her. The more she knows, the more confusing it gets. Nothing about them seems to make much sense, and Caroline hasn't even decided if that's a super-rich, children of the 1% thing, or if the Mikaelsons are especially wacky even among their peers.

After two days, though, she's just about lost hope of bumping into Elijah again. She doubts he'll be staying for much longer, especially with Klaus' cordial show of hospitality. Not that Elijah seemed bothered - being rude to siblings for no apparent reason seems to be one of those things that are normal by Mikaelson standard. It's just how they operate.

She's just back from a shift at the hospital, idly scrolling through her Instagram while she waits for the microwave to deliver her sad leftover dinner. Bitterly, she realizes it has been months since she last updated her feed. Her last photo is with Tyler, for crying out loud. Should she even keep it there? What's the etiquette for when you break up with someone for no earth-shattering reasons, the relationship just fizzling out and running its course? Is it rude to delete all evidence of him from her social media records? Is it expected? Will he be upset? Has he deleted her from his social media? 

In fact, now that she thinks about it... Is Tyler even seeing anyone?

"Huh," she mumbles to herself, fully internalizing in that second how truly messy her life has become that she hasn't even cyber-stalked her ex to know what he's been up to since they broke up. That's a whole new level of rock bottom unlocked, right there.

"Miss Forbes?"

Caroline nearly drops her phone when she looks up to find Elijah standing by the kitchen door. She swears to God the man is unnaturally feline; she didn't even hear him approach.

Unlike in their first encounter, he's now fully clothed and, unsurprisingly, he looks just as good as he did without a stitch on. Maybe better. His suit looks as though it was sewn directly onto his body by an Italian master tailor. The range of that man.

"Hey!" She cringes at her high pitch, standing up straight. 

His smile is affable as he steps further into the kitchen. "Do I interrupt?"

"What? No. I was just scrolling."

Caroline feels suddenly very self-conscious of just how crazy frumpy she must look standing in front of Elijah. The man is a poster boy for wellness and prosperity, while she is... Well. Not.

Suffice to say she's wearing a Timberwolves t-shirt from her long-gone cheerleading days in high school with at least five visible holes on it.

"I've been meaning to apologize for that horrid incident the other day," he starts. Caroline wouldn’t have brought the incident up, assuming he would rather forget it ever happened, but if it causes him any measure of discomfort to have been butt naked in front of a complete stranger, he does not show, which - now that she thinks about, is something else that feels very Mikaelson-esque. They do all seem to be incredibly comfy in their own skins. "Niklaus warned me that you would be home soon, but my despair for a proper shower was stronger than caution. I should've been more careful."

"You don't have to apologize. It's fine. It was nothing." That would've been a good place to stop. A very mature and dignified let's leave it at that and never mention it again. But her stupid mouth just keeps going. "I see naked people all the time at the hospital. It's totally unremarkable." Elijah's eyebrows inch upwards into a mildly curious expression. "I don't mean that you are unremarkable!" she corrects, and then, getting immediately horrified at the implications, adds, "You're not - I mean, you're ok, you're - obviously. Not that I was looking, I wasn’t - I just mean - You know what? I'm just gonna shut up now." She snaps her lips sealed, half-wishing that a hole would open underneath her feet and suck her into the magma of the earth.

[lovelyhan]

Sexting with Jeonghan -Have fun! Sam @dkakapizzaboy 🩷

SAM>!!?!?!!?!/ i... don't even have words anymore i'm just going to

⟣ sexting with jeonghan ⟢ wc: 0.6k words minors do not interact!

You wouldn't call yourself needy.

In fact, you're sure you're fairly independent yourself. Your relationship with Jeonghan has a grounded give-and-take dynamic, which you honestly didn't expect when you first got together with him. This means that he doesn't necessarily leave you wanting for too long that you'd resort to becoming needy.

But just because both of you have your heads in the right place for the most part, doesn't mean it erases the fact that your boyfriend is a busy, busy man.

You're hit with a particularly unscratchable itch when Jeonghan has a day packed with shoots and dance practices. You know better than to bother him when he's got his hands full with their most recent comeback, but you suppose a few texts hinting at what he's going to come home to won't hurt, right?

Me: hannie, what time do you finish up today? i have a little surprise for you ><

It takes Jeonghan an hour to reply, but you don't really hold that against him, being a full-time idol and everything.

Jeonghan: hey, angel. we should be done by eleven! miracle, right?

Me: your producers are way too hard on you sometimes :/ anyway, aren't you curious abt the surprise?

Jeonghan: i am, but something's telling me this "surprise" of yours is an occupational hazard.

Jeonghan: angel, if you're going to send what i think you're sending...

Me: :) [1 Attachment]

You know better than to distract Jeonghan while he's in the middle of work, but it's not like you're actively there with him on whatever set he's at. You're simply at the comfort of your home, wearing the lingerie set that drives Jeonghan crazy whenever he comes home to see you wearing it -- stockings, harnesses, garters and all.

He doesn't have to know that you're internally cackling to yourself as the three dots indicating that he's typing back a response hover in and out of the screen. Like he's at a loss for words, and has to type out an entire spiel before deleting it again.

When he finally manages a proper reply, though, you end up clenching your thighs together as you go over each word.

Jeonghan: i hope you're ready to take responsibility for the problems you're giving me.

Jeonghan: we're shooting a music video right now, and you made me pop a hard-on in the middle of the set. are you happy with yourself?

Me: mhmm <3

Me: can't wait for you to shove your cock down my throat, hannie~ we both know you need it more than you're willing to admit

Me: you can finish all over my tits if you want <3

Jeonghan: you're being extra cheeky today, aren't you?

Jeonghan: no, sweetheart. you're going to swallow every last drop i'm going to give you. then you're going to ride me right after.

Jeonghan: that's the least you can do for making me want you in the middle of work, isn't it?

Me: anything you want, hannie.

Me: i just miss you so much... i'm already touching myself wishing it was you instead.

Jeonghan: oh? are you so desperate that you can't even wait for me to come home?

Jeonghan: my needy little angel. be good for me, will you? no touching yourself until i get back.

Me: fine. but i want a reward for being good :(

Jeonghan: how does a pretty pussy dripping with my cum sound like, sweetheart?

Fuck. You're the one who's supposed to be riling him up -- not the other way around. But then again, you've been with Jeonghan long enough to know that it's completely futile to outdo the doer.

Me: you have yourself a deal.

Me: now, get back here sooner or i might just decide that i want to be a brat tonight after all.