#mmm fall preview

[brailsthesmolgurl]

LOSING YOU HURTS

Preview: What have the boys done that got you to go MIA? What lengths would they go to get you back?

Warnings: ANGST, teeth-rotting fluff at ending.

P.S: This is a request from one of you lovely readers. I hope what I had written shall suffice your love for angst and fluff. Rafayel's take is always and always will be and shall be the dramatic route imo, Zayne's just radiating care-bear energy in forever, Xavier? I decided to do him a little dirty and make him a salty boi :3

RAFAYEL - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜

The young artist came home to the smell of alcohol reeked across his living room. The mellow balsamic, saccharine scent created a trail for Rafayel to tail towards his room. The wide span of hallways suddenly seemed so narrow due to the lack of lighting. However, the moonlight provided just enough of a shine to prevent Rafayel from kissing the walls as he led himself towards his bedroom. The scent became more pungent as he got closer to the door and he was wondering if someone had managed to break into his mansion just for a couple of bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot. Opening the door with a slight creak, he popped his head into the ajar door to take a peek of the thief. Only to find you, sprawled out on his bed. He could not see your face as your legs faced him but he could see the slight rise and fall of your chest. You are asleep.

Relieved, he walked over to your sleeping figure, studying the situation. A bottle of Merlot emptied out on the nightstand while another half bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon stood still on the floor, next to a wine glass. Someone is clearly in the mood to drink for the night and does not even bother to wait for him. But he did wondered why would you down one and a half bottle of red wine when you have a barely existent alcohol tolerance. Rafayel took a seat next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear and he smiled to himself.

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto your cheek, feeling the warmth of your face from your drunkenness. “Mmm…” You hummed out at the slight pressure on your cheek. “Is that you Rafayel?” Your hushed whispers made him pressed another kiss to your cheek again, and another to your jawline.

“Yes, it’s me my love.” Rafayel pressed yet another kiss to your lips, slightly excited at you waking up. Seeing your eyelids opening to reveal your gaze, he leaned back, holding himself up by his palm, taking in your sleepy state. “You want to tell me why you chose to drink all of these yourself instead of waiting for me to come home and toast with you?”

His question only dissolved from words into gibberish as you were too drunk to handle such a heavy topic for the night. “I’m tired.” With a couple more slow blinks, the room disappeared and you travelled back to your dreamland.

The next day came about with you waking up to an empty bed. You slowly sat up, eyes shutting closed when your head cracked a whir and the world started to spin out of control. “Good morning.” A familiar voice tuned in and you opened your eyes just enough to catch sight of your boyfriend walking in casually, a silver tray well balanced on one of his palms. “My beauty is awake.” Smell of pancakes and something spicy filled the air and your tastebuds started salivating. Nothing like a good hungover meal to get things kickstarted for the day. For the talk the both of you are going to have. “I made some breakfast for you. Based on the amount you had drank, you are to be called a drunkard from now on.” He leaned down close enough, nose tip caressed against your cheek. “You’re most welcomed for my care.”

“We have to talk.” You had sat yourself up, hand rubbing your forehead a couple of times when you tried to calm your throbbing pain in your skull and the itch in the back of your throat, begging you to stop what you are about to say. “I want to break up.”

“Awe, is my beauty still—” Rafayel reached his hand out to touch your cheek, a cheesy smile still hung on his handsome features. He had just woken up, shirt messily buttoned, hair tousled and spiking in different directions and face still slightly oily from the sleep he had enjoyed next to you in bed. Nevertheless, his beauty remains inexorable.

You turned your head to the side, leaving his hand hanging mid air with the phantom touch of your warm cheek, and his smile faded when he denoted that you were being serious. “I want to break up.” Your lack of tone and facial expressions led Rafayel to return to his original posture.

“Why?” Rafayels’ eyes narrowed and he knitted his eyebrows together. He was frustrated. Not telling him the reason and just wanting to break up gave the young man a good enough idea that he is no longer wanted in your space. He could have begged, asked, nagged you to stay but he chooses to respect your boundary. “Why would you want to break up suddenly?”

"Have you not seen the news Rafayel?" You grabbed your phone off of the nightststand and unlocked it, revealing a news titled 'NEW MUSE OR NEW COHORT? RAFAYEL FOUND SHARING LIPS WITH THE MYSTERY WOMAN'.

He looked genuinely shocked, grabbing your phone to continue scanning through the article. Hazy from your hangover, you cannot tell if he was being upset or he was actually shocked that he got caught. "Love, that is a mistake. I did not know she—"

"I'm done." You interrupted, snatching your phone out of his palms and pushing yourself off of the bed. Rafayel mimicked you, getting up off of the bed and holding onto you to prevent you from falling and to stop you from leaving. "I should have known earlier given how you had not been coming home recently. All of the promises that you made, it's all just a lie."

"No, it's not a lie y/n. I did not manage to come home because I was busy curating my artworks for the upcoming exhibition. The kiss with Aiki, it was nothing. We were both drunk and—" He started rambling, eyes darting everywhere except meeting yours and face turning red. The lack of detail present within his explanation only pushed your buttons further.

"It's the fact you kissed her and you did not tell me anything the next day, or the day after, or today! That's what made me disappointed in you Rafayel!" You raised your voice, unable to calm yourself anymore. You recalled the night you caught on to the news. Crying became your last resort and you figured by chugging down alcohol you could pity yourself less, seeing the picture of the mystery woman he calls 'Aiki' being so much more alluring than you.

Possessing long blond hair with big wavy curls, tall stature with right amount of curves on her figure. Any man would dream of a model-like woman like her laying in their bed. Not to mention, she possesses the same interest for art, seemingly the only daughter to a family tree of artists. There is no doubt on why she would be hired by Rafayel and why they would end up having an affair.

You squared up against him, pushing him by his shoulders and he stumbled backwards. "I hate you." Your last sentence jabbed him more than anything, maybe it was the tears that ran down your face like streams, maybe the way you bit your lip after you had finished your sentence realising that you had said the ultimatum, or maybe it was your tone of defeat that made him feel utterly useless.

"I'm sorry y/n." Rafayel held onto your wrist, with just enough amount to beg you to stay and not to force you. "It was a mistake of mine, I should have told you about it. I was scared you were going to leave me."

"But apparently not saying it does not change the ending either." You removed your wrist out of his grip and you walked past him and out of the premises of his abode. Your tears streaked your cheeks immediately when the heavy doors closed behind you. Your feet felt heavy with every step you take, secretly hoping for Rafayel to be dashing out of his house, shouting and begging relentlessly for you to not leave him. Despite with that expectation, it remained eidetic to your imagination and you dragged yourself as far as you could. Away from his mansion, away from his island, but primely, away from Rafayel.

Days followed by weeks and then months. That was how long you had disassociated yourself with the purple haired lad. The memories of him are dissolving just like the news of his has dissipated. The last you had seen his name on the news headline was when he chose to cancel his exhibition. The same exhibition that he spent a lot of time trying to curate his artworks and the same exhibition that got him to commit a mistake with Aiki that costed him his relationship. Although the reason behind his cancellation was unknown to the paparazzi, you knew full well that his 'I am moody hence I do not feel like going through with this exhibition' kinda excuse is pure bullshit. But of course, you did not want to jump to conclusions. More like, you are in no position to possess such an assumptive nature towards his acts anymore.

Here you currently sat, on your kitchen table, with a cup of tea in hand and eyes fixated on the hologram showcased in your living room. The holographic news reporter casually stood at the corner of your living room, reading from his cue cards and occasionally pointing towards the graphics that appeared on his left on demand, providing you details on what is going on in the outside world. You were thinking of going out for a shopping spree today as you had been holed up in your home for the longest time ever. Mostly due to paperwork, partially may contribute to the post breakup blues.

The doorbell rang and you swiftly got up, tearing your eyes off of the man in a suit in your living room and you walked yourself towards the door. You clicked the lock open and pulled your door towards you to open it. Rafayel towered in front of you, still looking as dashing as how you always expected of him. His left eyebrow raised, presumably surprised at you opening the door for him. The tension amongst the both of you started arising, one mostly out of anxiety while the other mostly out of frustration.

"What do you want?" You quipped, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed the young man in front of you. Rafayel clad a suit that puts the reporter's neatly pressed outfit to shame, with the usual combo of black and white, added on with a red tie, there is really not a lot of work required for him to look good. Yet, you could not bring yourself to admire his outfit now.

"I came to apologise." His tone was lighthearted, pressed to crack a joke amidst this tension. You however, caught a whiff of a scent that you do not often smell on him. It smells tangy, fruity even. "I know you do not want me here, but I will not stop like how I had not stopped contacting you for the past months. It took Thomas three months to locate where you are staying and I just had to risk coming here." He pressed one of his palms to his forehead and closed his eyes, body swaying slightly as if there was a gust of wind that blew him. "Can I at least come in? My head is buzzing."

You stood aside to give way to him. His lanky stature nearly manage to fit through your standard door frame and you manage to sneak a whiff off of his cologne of the night. He reeked of alcohol. "Are you drunk Rafayel?"

The man stumbled forward and you lurched towards him, arms secured around his waist to hold him up, not wanting him to kiss the floor just yet and you slowly guided him towards the sofa. Moans and groans and hushed mutters kept tumbling out of his mouth, but you barely focused in on his monologues. The way his rubicund cheeks presented itself, accompanied with his groans; he must not be in a good mood. Although the both of your paths had came to an end, you could not just let him falter to the ground. "Here, lay down." You low-key flopped him onto the couch and hurried off into the kitchen to fetch some water.

It has been a while of silence, with the window opened for maximum ventilation and the curtains that pranced along with the rhythm of the winds. You twisted the handkerchief in your hand, squeezing the water out of the cloth and laying it onto Rafayel's head, repeating the same motion for the next few handkerchiefs that you would use to cover his neck and his chest. He was rather persistent in not wanting you to undress him as the moment is not right and he does not want to be taken advantage of. But again, it seems like you are the one that was getting taken advantage by your ex-boyfriend even after the breakup.

You managed to make him comply by comforting him and telling him that you only want to cool down his body temperature. The permission to remove his blazer was granted with a nod and you unbuttoned three buttons on his button-up shirt, unfoldingthe cotton piece and slowly placing it onto his smooth yet hard chest. Rafayel hissed in response, hands enveloping yours immediately and your cheeks burnt at the touch. "I'm sorry y/n." You looked up to see the man is already looking at you, lids heavy and lips slightly puckered, guilt written all over his features. "I didn't mean to cheat on you at all."

"You should rest." Your dismissive attitude got Rafayel to wrap his arms around your waist in one-go and he pulled you onto him, so you are laying right on top of him. You were frantic, wanting to get out of his arms as soon as possible but his hold was solid. "Rafayel, please. We had gotten over this." "I had never loved anyone like you y/n." His soft voice a total opposite of his iron grip. "Hell, when I kissed her that time when I was drunk, all I could think about was you. I'm sorry I did not tell you about my mistake earlier. I am sorry I let you walked out. I should have tried harder, I should not have gotten drunk that night..." The warm light that hit his face outlined the tears that brimmed around his eyes. He trailed off, words swallowed by the silence. "I'm very sorry my love."

You could not deny it. Seeing him being drunk, standing at the front of your unit that he had searched for relentlessly ever since the parting, apologising being the only thing he could manage to put into a conversation for tonight and the amount of guilt that surrounds him as thick as the smell of alcohol on his body. You could not deny that he melted your heart. "Rafayel, it's okay." You succumbed to your own regret too, revealing the sensations you had felt for the past few months. "I should not have acted so recklessly. I should have listened to you and not let my insecurity consume me. I am sorry too."

"Don't be sorry my love." His finger snaked over to the bottom of your chin and he lifted it up. Your lips only a few inches away from him. "I will always love you, and if you ever plan to leave me again, I will chase you to the ends of the earth even if I have to." Watching him closely, you realised the redness on his cheeks are gone, and the glint of teasing in his nebula-like orbs is back.

Scrunching your face in observation, you asked. "Are you faking yourself to be drunk?" He whined like a toddler and 'fainted' back into his laying position, making you raise your eyebrows in return at his usual mockeries. "Do you even mean anything you said earlier?"

He snapped his head back to you, eyes widened and he pushed himself up with one arm, jaw slackening. "The audacity to assume that I came here just for a show." He pressed a hand to his chest and looked down, the redness creeping onto his ears. "Everything I had said is sincere, I wanted to apologise and wanted to show you just how much you actually matter to me. Because, y/n, losing you really pains me. It affects me greater than what you may think." You did not reply to his laments, but instead just watched this man in front of you conveyed a soliloquy that is so wrapped in sincerity and love for you that it really made you reconsider the word 'break up'.

A snap of a finger made you jolted awake and you realised how stupid you could have looked, with a wide grin stapled onto your face as you admired your suitor in front of you. Rafayel however, has a pout on his lips and he crossed his arms, unsatisfied with the lack of succor he received from his all-time lover. "You are lucky I love you, or else I am suing you for making me look like a fool when I am the least bit interested in theatrical acts." Then, the both of you burst out into laughters, filling the void of the dead silence.

ZAYNE - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 ��𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝

You flicked your wrist to stare at your new watch that Zayne had gotten for you. It is almost lunch time but you still did not managed to catch sight of Zayne anywhere. You scanned the crowd, watching staffs and patients zooming across the lobbies in various speeds. Weekdays are not an excuse for this famous hospital to have barren hallways as you have figured.

Heavy footfalls against the marbled flooring made you turned your head and you noticed Zayne standing near one of the pharmacy counters, with a girl right next to him. You knew all of the people your boyfriend is associated with but the absence of a memory for the girl's face suggested that she may be new around here. Your eyes started to study this stranger occupying herself right next to your boyfriend.

She has short, neat brunette hair that sits right below her ear lobes. Certainly well-dressed within the premises of the building; with a lilac blouse on and well-fitted jeans, with a pair of low pumps. Her clipboard in her arm and the blue tag pinned against her lovely blouse gave away her position as an intern. Then, this would explain why she would be around Zayne.

But, it does not explain the scenario when she said something with a grin and your normally emotionless boyfriend smiles back, all the while adjusting his necktie. Arbitrarily, you were not really affected by his reactions. He is human afterall. Although humourless most of the time, but it still does not deny him the opportunity to take in a good joke and react naturally to it. The young man nodded his head and you watched the intern walked off before you looked back to Zayne, noticing he already has his eyes on you and is already strutting over to you.

"Hey Zayne." You greeted him warmly, a smile on your face but not lurching forward to hug him as the both of you had agreed to not display any PDAs when he is still within his work premises. "Who's that just now?"

"An intern I was assigned with two months ago." He spoke, eyeing the watch on your wrist. "I see you are making good use of the Rolex. It's about time an adult like you keep track of your own time." You shot him a look of discontentment at his usage of puns but still laughed either ways. "I've gotten us a table at a nearby restaurant, let's get going."

"How's the steak?" Zayne asked, his hazel orbs glided from your face to your plate and back to your face again, expecting an answer.

The restaurant looked amazing, elegantly decorated in shades of white and gold, mirroring the decors and theme from those mythical stories that hailed from the ancient Greek and Roman mythologies. Gargoyles made of porcelain fitted within the alcoves of the vined halls, recessed within the stilts that holds up the ceiling.

"It is good, as per usual from your choice." You catch his eyes briefly and diverted your gaze back onto the meal in front of you. "What is the name of the intern?"

Zayne paused, taking a moment to sip onto the orange juice he had ordered and dabbing the napkin over his lips. "Azalea."

"It's funny how she was never mentioned to me before." It is your turn to lay down your cutlery this time, repeating the steps as what Zayne had done but the only difference is that you sipped onto lemon tea rather than orange juice. "Despite it has been two months."

The man that sat in front of you eased back into his chair, sighing. "I just figured she is an intern and that what goes on between me and her on a daily basis are not worth to be mentioned about. It seemed unnecessary." Your question was not meant to be an argument starter but with the way how Zayne sounded so dismissive about this intern of his, you could not help but to grow suspicious of things between them. When you are about to say something else, a subtle vibration was heard and you caught sight of Zayne's phone screen lighting up. "I have to take this." He got up and left the table to take the phone call outside, leaving you within your own realm of questions.

The phone call took a while. Much to your surprise, the name that flashed across his screen was none other than Azalea. Furthermore, the other surprise factor is that the phone call is taking such a while that you are beginning to imagine fishes appearing in your cauliflower soup. When Zayne came back to the table, he looked apologetic somehow, picking up his coat in a swift motion. "I have to return to the hospital now. I have an immediate surgery scheduled at 3pm later."

Walking beside him, you could not bring yourself to ask who was it on the phone as the name showcased on the screen was bright as day and it would not stop flashing up in your mind. You intertwined your own fingers, mentally encouraging yourself to not worry much about the issue as Zayne had always been loyal to you. However, this is where the devil starts pulling its strings when you started wondering was it because of the fact he had always been so loyal that he got bored? Maybe Azalea turned up to be a whole new, fresh, brilliant individual that may have managed to tempt Zayne. Your confidence in the relationship is immediately questioned at that moment.

"I'm sorry I can't fetch you back. Once you're home, drop me a text." Zayne rubbed his palm on the small of your back but his warmth seemingly non-existent. "I will see you soon."

After the last time the both of you had lunch, Zayne started getting really busy while you, you just got more and more isolated. No, things did not exactly ended between the both of you but at this rate, prepping yourself for the end of days may not be exaggerative at all. The both of you still do have phone calls everyday, but it was textbook-like. The usual greetings and casual singular-sentenced conversations before either one has to run off to work. Maybe sometimes, you might get the luck of hearing Azalea in the background, chattering and laughing off with that nurse that manages Zayne's schedule for the day.

Slowly but surely, the phone calls slowly turned into texts and eventually, your texts became haphazard, even going as far as you having to weigh your mood to determine your willingness to reply. You just could not bring yourself to ask him the question marks in your head, and yet, breaking up is not an option as this may just be a stupid thing to fight and end things up for. So, you struggled alone allowing yourself to be raptured within the palms of your own worries for the future of your relationship. It is also saddening to see that your thoughts now are only full of Azalea; with the memories of you and Zayne but your face being replaced by that intern's features.

A knock on the door made you jolted and you spilled some water onto your shirt. "Tsk, come on. Really?" Muttering to yourself, you got off of the sofa and made your way towards the doorway. Hands hurriedly dusting off the stain the best you could before you came face to face with the person standing at your door. "Hi, how can I—Zayne?"

“I figured you would be at home.” Zayne welcomed himself into your house and you willingly step aside, palms and forehead dripping with cold sweat. His presence has not been exactly expected, but maybe because it was unexpected, you find yourself flabbergasted at his sudden appearance. “You had been very…” He shrugged off his coat, his movements languid but slow, his words churning at the tip of his tongue as Zayne does not want to sound rude. “Distant lately. I came over to check up on you.”

“I was just busy.” You mumbled, toes wriggled against your wooden flooring to trick yourself int thinking time might speed up with this method. It has been a fair amount of time since the two of you had last met up. It has been a fortnight exactly. You missed him dearly but with your own Azalea dilemma, you could not make the judgement for him. Pessimistic one might say and sadly, you admit that you are a prime example for the term.

“Busy catching up on those reality shows of yours I see. That is one way to define busy.” Zayne stepped up to you, his height providing him an advantage to corner you towards your wall. “What’s the matter? You do not look so well. Do you need me to check—”

The extension of his hand was stopped with your grip before he could feel your forehead's temperature. Your cementing grip causing the doctor to raise one of his thin eyebrows. “I don’t need you here.”

“Why?” Subtle but pushy. His deepened voice hinted curiosity. Zayne has never been the one to bear the trait of being assumptive but with how things had developed between the two of you, Zayne himself started realising the amount of doubts that has been growing on him. He is not fond of his particular messy thoughts and he was ought to get an answer out of you tonight.

You released your grip on his wrist and the doctor did not move back, but stayed stagnant in his spot, still staring down at you, hoping that you would at least look up to meet his concerned gaze. He only got slightly disappointed when you lowered your head even further. “You had been cheating on me with Azalea haven’t you?”

Zayne’s eyebrows tilted upwards again, watching your figure growing smaller and smaller in front of him. You are literally shaking, melting, gnawing at yourself for wanting to confront him when your good conscience is asking every bit of you to not mess up what is left of the relationship. Still, a relationship without clarification via communication is as good as not being in a relationship. “Why would you think so?”

You can hear, no. You can feel your mind pushing your heart out of the way like how rugby players be doing on the field, roughhousing the shit out of every opponent they see. “We barely talked, we barely made plans, you are always at the hospital and I had to result to getting updates from your nurse about your schedule and all I see is that intern’s name on most of it. And usually, you would not even have interns on your surgery schedules. What makes her so special?” You wanted to stop yourself but your mouth was no longer yours.

“Not to mention, the way you smiled at her that day when I came by to visit you. It took me a year to get you to at least crack a smile at my stupid jokes but it only takes her two months. Your one-worded responses about her made it seemed like you are really hiding something from me. But, with how things are recently, I am starting to question the basis of our love for one another.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes after your yapping came to an end. “When I bought that watch for you to get a sense of time, I do not mean you should be wasting your time on having to crack your head and heart at such wringing issues like this y/n.” His sudden defensiveness made you snapped your head up towards him. How dare he! “I am a man of integrity y/n and I am sorry.” Your anger immediately dissolved, watching Zayne getting down onto one of his knees so that you do not have to crane your neck the whole time while having this conversation. He held your hand slowly, the soft and calloused palms of his matching the heat of yours and he pulled you to sit onto his thigh. “Allow me to explain.”

Apparently, the reason why they are both stuck to the hip is because Zayne was pressured by the medical board to provide her an ‘all-access pass’ to his treatments, surgeries and also anything related to his responsibilities. Zayne is not an advocate for someone who rises through the ranks with nepotism but he was also surprised that she is not just a nepo-baby, but she actually has the brains to be a capable doctor in the future. Hence, Zayne was more willing to overlook his moral judgement for a bit and to actually tutor her according to his own will to create a successful doctor for the near future. When he spoke of the incident whereas he was caught smiling at her, his response is straight. “She is a lesbian and she has a girlfriend.”

Slouched on the couch, you leaned in, nestling your face into his collarbone and you felt the pads of his fingers pressed against your chin and he guided you to look at him. The dashing young man that you are more than glad to acknowledge him as your boyfriend looked extremely seductive under the low light conditions. Zayne’s lips tugged up into a subtle smirk and you noticed the way his eyes flicked in between your eyes and your lips. Perhaps, he owns the talent of being a psychic. “Y/n. From now on, I do not wish for you to worry yourself with such ridiculous thoughts anymore. It concerns me that you are holed up only to yourself when my heart is opened for you and only you my darling. I need you to know that you can always rely on me and I will always be here for you.” The man then leaned down to press a deep kiss onto your soft lips.

XAVIER - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

The last thing you expected was to be attending the reunion party held by Captain Jenna on your long-awaited off day. Several other divisions are invited for this reunion as one of the main purpose for this party is to encourage everyone to let off some steam as well. You tugged lightly at the collar of your turtleneck, feeling like the outfit is not only choking you but your lack of motivation to conduct social interaction is having a grip at your trachea too. "It's nice to see you here." A familiar voice rung past your hearing and you watched your boyfriend approached you.

He is rocking his usual hunter outfit but this time it is in white-grey combination rather than the usual white-navy or full-white sets. He took his stand beside you and covered his mouth immediately, a yawn setting into his palms. Even your boyfriend is rhyming to the same mindset of yours of wanting to just have the day to himself or to spend it only with you. "I suppose you did not want to be here either?" You chirped, taking a deep breath and stepping into the hall, with Xavier tailing your shadow.

"Nothing ever beats a good nap. But, I guess I have no choice when Captain Jenna told me that you are obligated to join." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. Situating himself right next to you. "And I suppose it would not be a bad idea to accompany you in case you get lonely."

The normally neat, simplistic-looking hall is now decorated with colourful streamers and balloons. Standing cocktail tables are aligned near a temporary bar stand that was themed like a Hawaii beach-side bar while fancier banquet tables were placed at the end of the hall. But you gave the party the benefit of the doubt when you noticed a DJ is placed at the very end of the hall, spinning records on their devices. This party is a fun mess.

"I guess this is Captain's idea of a fun party huh?" Xavier asked, question indirectly directed towards you, but mostly towards himself. Cannot blame either one of you as none of you are known to be the best party goers amongst the division. If you both were to be placed into a category for the type of party-goers, the two of you would definitely fit right into the 'non-existent' type.

"Either ways Xavier, I know at least I got you." You turned to him and flashed him a smile and the blond man did the same, patting you on the head as well for his usual comforting gesture. "I think I will go ahead and look for Tara first. I'll see you in a bit."

"Okay. If you get overwhelmed, you can always find me and we can always make an excuse to ride home alright?" His azure orbs were tinted with a shade of baby blue under the garish fluorescent lights. Your nod rewarded you another pat on your head and you dived into the crowds of people, in search for your best friend Tara.

Honestly, at this moment, you wished you had not been looking for Tara as now you are stuck in this awkward social circle of hers. Conversations consisting mainly of newest fashion trends and celebrity gossips are such new grounds to you, more like never-will-touch grounds of conversation. "Hey, you alright?" Tara's pat on your shoulder snapped you out of your boredom and you blinked a couple of times.

"Y...yeah I am fine." Jeez. You should have asked for an opportunity to leave when you got to but your people pleaser attitude does not really grant you the will to just spit out an excuse and peace out. "I am just not the best at these kind of conversations." At least some parts of the truth managed to be rolled out.

"Girls! Girls! The dance is starting." One of the girls came joining the small circle, her smile stretched from ear to ear. "Let's hit the dance floor!" Then you watched as the freckled girl dragged Tara and another girl --whose name you do not recall-- through the crowd and towards the empty space in the middle of it all. The music suddenly had a drastic warped tune to it and it went from sentimental, lovey-dovey songs straight into songs one would blast in the gym or a nightclub.

You looked around and figured maybe this is the best time for you to plan your escape so you started to squeeze through bodies to get to the exit. As you passed by the dancefloor, a familiar figure reeled your attention and you focused in on the figure only to find Xavier standing in front of a girl, talking in the middle of the dancefloor. With the amount of people occupying the dancefloor, there is no doubt some form of physical contact would occur.

Speaking of which, you watched as a man bumped into Xavier and then he hit against the girl, arms reaching around her shoulder to steady himself. The fluorescent lights suddenly went off and laser-like pointers and stage lights becoming the main source of lighting. It is dimmer for sure, but not dim enough for you to figure out that Xavier and the girl are a little too close in each other's personal bubble.

"Look at that couple there." You overheard someone talking behind your back. "I heard they used to date back in the day but then things did not end well."

"Why? What happened?" Another voice chimed in right when the sentence finished.

"The girl got pregnant or so I heard." Your eyes widened in horror when you heard the story. Why have you not heard of the existence of Xavier's ex-girlfriend? He sure is and always have been a man of mystery but you did not expect that he would refrain to tell you such an important information. Here you thought him telling you about his most embarrassing memories of his younger self is considered intimate enough. You could feel your tears welling up, your gaze blurry as you tore your eyes off of the 'couple' and you stomped off and out of the hall, pushing through the crowd like a loaded bulldozer.

You got out of the crowd by jamming yourself through any visible gaps you can see in the aphotic surroundings. Once you got out of the doors, you took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of fresh air that held hints of sourness. Then, you got onto your bike and zoomed off into the embrace of the darkness.

Panting, you wiped the ichor off of the sides of your face, hissing at the gash on your wounded arm. A parting gift from the golem that you had just managed to defeat all by yourself. You flipped your wrist over and looked at your hunter's watch. "No more missions assigned to Agent y/n at this moment." The watch reported, the stiff robotic voice eliciting a huff of annoyance from you. Well, it is late in the middle of the night and you should really be on your way home.

You looked up into the skies as you navigated your way back to your vehicle. Stars littering all over the deadened skies provided a sense of relevancy to your self-isolation for the past few months. Your breakup with Xavier was done through a phone call, with you calling things off without even providing a explanation and blocking him right after. Following up, you requested to be switched to another branch and got yourself moved to a new location. Just like this, it was as if Xavier was never a part of your life.

But, he has been such a part of your routine for the past one year that it had left you in a state of bereft, seeking solace within the past fond memories that you had once shared with him. Before your trail of memories gained access to your mind, you halted your footsteps, eyes studying the three separate routes in front of you. Which one had you taken previously?

"Lost?" A voice startled you and you immediately drew your guns out of your garter belt, aimed directly at head shot level towards the source of the voice. But, you lowered your gun eventually when you came face to face with your ex-lover. "Or you just got caught up in your own thoughts?"

Your act of abnegation was shown with you not entertaining his question and instead, takes a step past him. Xavier however, held onto your arm to get you to stop and your wince alerted him of the laceration on your arm. "I'm fine, I do not seek for your care. I can handle it myself."

"Just like how you handled our breakup. Which is not the most mature I'd say." Xavier loosened his grip and sighed, turning to face you and his voice came off softer. "I have been searching everywhere for you, do you know that?"

"Like I'd said Xavier, there is nothing I wish to clarify to you. A breakup is a breakup." You stood your ground, eyes digging its way through the soil if that is an eligible euphemism amidst this awkward moment.

"You not having the wish to clarify the reasons for our breakup does not mean that I do not wish to know about it y/n. So, are you going to break it to me or would you wish to be left alone?" Desperation came upon his voice as he spoke. If you have a better sense of hearing, you might just be able to catch the slight change of octave in his voice. Oh, how you wish you could just disappear right now, just evaporating up into the night skies. "Y/n."

"Why did you kept a secret behind my back? Especially when it involves your ex-girlfriend having a pregnancy?" You managed to spit out after a minute of contemplation. Escaping is not an option for you either when your ex-lover has the ability to teleport within a good amount of range.

Xavier's lips opened and closed again, hesitation flashed across his face and his eyebrows knitted together now. "What?" His response to a question with another question got you curious so you looked at him. The poor young man looked shocked, eyes widened and jaws slacked. "I do not have an ex-girlfriend."

Your confidence crumbled with a big gaping hole in the middle of your heart as you stared at him with the same expression of his. "That day, at the reunion party. I saw you were chatting with a girl and I overheard the conversation from the people beside me stating that the both of you used to share an intimate connection and you got her knocked up--"

Your voice slowly trailed off when the moonlight peeked through the crevices in between the leaves of the trees, illuminating Xavier's lack of expression in front of you. Although he wears a poker face, you can tell that he was borderline amused and yet in a state of pity for your behalf. "Someone owes me a big apology I suppose." Yes, of course you do. "Just to fill in the gaps for you, the girl I was speaking to used to be my partner till she got married and have to take care of her child hence she got transferred to another division. The story that you heard of, was hers, but the guy part, I am definitely not involved."

"I'm so so sorry Xavier. I just couldn't believe what I was hearing and my emotions got to the best of me. I am so sorry." Your lip trembled as you spoke, voice cracking when you finally admitted that you are the jerk for having to pull such a stunt on him over some petty rumours that you refuse to address to him. "I didn't mean to." Your body was jerked forward and your forehead collided with his warm chest. His arms was quick to pull you in for a hug. "I forgive you y/n. It's okay, don't cry." Yet, you still failed to oblige and started to sob into his chest like a child that received her very first lecture. "I am glad I still managed to find you even after all of these months." His hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back until you regained back your composure. His palms rising up and falling down according to the undulating tempo of your breaths.

"Thank you for coming for me." Your arms tightened around his waist and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto the top of your forehead.

"I will be looking forward to you making up for this mistake of yours." He smiled, the moonlight cascading onto the both of you like a stage light. "Let's start with no more breaking up over stupid rumours okay?"

@elysiel is the lovely reader who came up with this idea hence I decided to put my own twist into things so I hope you are very much pleased my love and @prettytemis wished to be tagged when I post this up so here it goes! <3

[madamechrissy]

Preview for Silent Serenades- an arranged marriage with Duke Gojo- Part Thirteen

Spoiler alert- don't read if you haven't read Part Twelve yet!

Here it is

MDNI- explicit- (Said I'm not writing fics- ahaha but I lied, I was having a moment lol- Imma keep writing what I like to so... enjoy! Sould be out by Monday <3)

“Satoru, stop it. Now.” You cup his face, hating the swirling storm in his beautiful eyes, he clings to your wrists, wrapping them with his long fingers, breaths coming faster and faster.

“She is right about me. I am-”

“She is not right. She is nothing. You have… you have me.” You whisper, stepping even closer towards him, feeling him tremble slightly, tears just sitting on those long white lashes, shattering your heart.

“Look at what I did to you. What if you… I couldn’t blame you if you go for a fucking King.” You shake your head, Satoru takes his hands off your wrists, they find your waist, pressing you against his hard body. “What if I lose you now? I could not go on.”

“I’m not going anywhere. She’s filling your head with lies.” Satoru Gojo leans down, breath sweet and hot against your lips, you feel it, the beat of his heart steady against your breasts.

“Are they lies? I see him, he wants you. Do you think a baker makes up for all the whores I slept with!?” His voice breaks, as it breaks you apart, you feel your own emotions swirling in your soul.

“It’s not a game of getting even, my heart can’t take that again. I only want you, can you understand!? If I did not I would not have chosen you, to stay with you, it does not come with your past.”

“You so easily forgive me.” He scoffs then, stepping closer and closer towards the burgundy wall, barring you with one arm, while the other wraps your waist, fingers stroking your back up and down.

“I will not continue to seek some revenge upon you. As… I know you will not be with her, yes?” He glares, leaning even closer, you ache for his lips upon yours, needing that reassurance.

“Of course I will not. Despite being nearly your copy, you are nothing like her, your heart, your soul. Your…” He drifts a hand down, cupping you then over your muslin gown, you moan softly, having been in this palace and now staying here tonight, knowing the woman that destroyed Satoru is here, you two have been on edge. “Your perfect little cunt.”

“Mmm, is it so much better?” You tease, voice breathy when he presses his palm up, you feel your pussy throb around nothing, your tummy clenching with the desire pooling for him.

“God yes, everything about you is better, your mouth, your cunt, your moans, you are so much better than she could be.” He continues applying pressure, lips just a breath away. “I hate how he looks at you, I want to kill him.”

“I only see you, broody man that you are.” He moans now, slamming his lips on yours, drinking in your every cry.

“Next time he sees you, my cum will be dripping down between your thighs.” You gasp as he lifts you, pressing you against the wall, lips devouring yours, hot, messy, tongues dancing and fighting while teeth click. His kiss bruises your lips when you cling to him, legs wrapped around slender hips, feeling his length press on you.

“Then guess what I want?” You breathe out between kisses, when Satoru carries you to the bed, turning you to your stomach to unlace your bodice, nipping and biting your skin as he does, leaving bruises from his mouth.

“My cock in you, hmm? To be all mine?” You gasp in pleasure, head falling back for his dominant bites, he rips apart your bodice now, dragging the gown off you with frantic movements.

“I am yours, but no, I want to make you mine.” You turn, cupping his face, looking right at his hungry eyes and parted lips.

“I am yours, slutty girl. All yours.”

“If I’m dripping your cum, you’ll have mine all over your lips.” You earn his groan, he’s got you completely stripped, hands gripping your ass, smacking it so hard it makes you soaking wet, you’re shaking with need.

“Need to coat my face with your slutty little cunt?” You gasp out as he runs his fingers on your slick folds, you arch your ass up for more.

“Please.” His breath is hot on your lips, he pulls them apart to reveal your little hole, drooling arousal out of it.

“Mine.”

Are you ready for our Duke and Duchess!?

[thesevro]

[nanami kento] your stranger

VILLAIN NANAMI KENTO/MALE READER SMUT CW: Explicit scenes of sex, overstimulation

I'm imagining a villain Nanami here. I remember I started writing this in June, ngl I have not seen much of JJK since very early last year so Nanami is not like himself here MWAHAHa Backshots from an angry, tired, drunk salaryman below my bro

PREVIEW: “Unless you’d like me to feed you first,” he mutters, looking back at you as he slots the key into the lock.

You stare back at him, not quite appalled by the request, but by his gall. 

“Your boyfriend just bro” —he slurs through the word— “-ooke up with you, hm? I could take your mind off that. And feed you, if you like.” He licks his lips. “Sir.”

—

The train is, as per usual, seating several of the typical unfortunate salarymen held back until mind-bendingly late by their bosses. They’re all luckier than you. You’d been out dancing and grinding on stranger after stranger in every club in Tokyo, crying on your friends’ shoulders after reading the pathetic break-up text you got earlier that afternoon. Your head falls into the crook of your elbow. The pain is a sorry thing. Toji was good comfort for your body, that was all it ever was. But remembering him has you swaying on your feet as you grip the handhold above you.

At 00:30, with half-drunk tears pricking your eyes, one of these drunk men finally bumps into you. He’s handsome enough to make you less annoyed; just another stranger to move your body with. Politely. 

Your hands find his hips to right his balance. “Careful, sir.”

His balance remains unruly. Discordant enough with the rest of his body to have him falling back into you as the train speeds over a particularly bumpy track. You grunt, accommodating his weight with your hands even more firmly wrapped around his hips.

“Sir,” you say, “I’m going to have to move you, is that alright?”

He mumbles something and nothing. You frown, meeting his gaze to gauge his reaction further. Fuck it all if you’re embarrassed, having to manhandle a heavy, handsome blonde into a seat on the train. His eyes have that pit in your stomach dropping with greater weight. His gaze is sharp, perhaps not lucid but entirely alert. Whatever you’re doing, however you’re helping him, he’s the one letting you do it.

You give him a smile. He doesn’t match your ignominy, or your discretion. His feet stumble one over the other as you guide him into a chair with your body supporting him from his armpit, your arm around his wide shoulders. The man is big.

Against your better judgment, you decide to take the seat next to him.

“You, uh… think you’ll be able to get home alright?”

“Mmm.” Your ears savor that small sound. His voice is deep. Smooth as velvet. “Don’t… about me.”

His head thumps into the back of the seat. Huh, respect. From that vigilance in his eyes alone you know he’ll be fine on his own. Could probably rip someone to pieces in the dark with his bare hands, drunk or not. His fingers are thick, his hands popping with veins. 

His Adam’s apple bobs as his voice fills your ears. Ah. You’re watching him a little too closely. “H-help me home. Think your grip h-hurt my hips.”

You nearly jump away from him in sheer humiliation. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You were a little heavy. I had to—”

“Just help me home,” he repeats, slurring through his words. Every time he speaks, you have to lean in, face moving so close to his you can feel his breath with every word. Man must be a mumbler at work. His state of utter inebriation rips through every quality of communication he might already not possess. “Sure you’re strong enough for it.”

You follow him off the train, watching him from a distance until you reach the stairs. You shake off the embarrassment and hold an arm out to him. He lets you wrap your arm around his shoulders, holding him steady as his feet stumble down the stairs. You laugh a bit when you nearly trip with him. 

“What. Are you laughing. At?” he snaps.

“This whole setup is worse,” you say honestly. “It’s like you’ve given the both of us six feet each.” 

“I jus’” —he hiccups, and for the first time you find him cute instead of handsome— “Worked an eighteen-hour shift. Please help me out.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve got you, don’t worry.” 

“There’s my house,” he says as you tap his card then yours to exit the station. He points a shaky finger to a cozy apartment sitting next to a bakery, right outside the station. The store is still open.

You make an involuntary noise in your throat, your stomach responding to the sight of sticky pastries lined up in perfect rows. You drag him towards his apartment with quicker steps. Such delightful motivation. You’d move in with him if you could, just for this bakery.

“P-please slow down,” he asks, his first time bearing some sense of discretion towards you. 

“I’m sorry. Of course.” 

You heave him up further to support his weight with more of your body. He leans on you, unabashed as his unsteady steps take you towards his home. Under his suit, his apparent musculature bulges to fit right into your hands. 

His hands fumble for the keys once you reach the front steps. He reaches a hand out to the wall, yet you remain by his side, your hand gently clutching his waist, keeping him steady as he sways from side to side.

“This is the first time someone else has been around my house in quite some time,” he says, coherent in his melancholy. Ah, the mood swings of a drunk. 

“If you’re up to it, sir, we could share pastries at the bakery next door. It’s still open.” 

“No,” he replies, absently. “I want to fuck you.” 

Ah. Was he just reading your mind?

“Sir?”

“Unless you’d like me to feed you first,” he mutters, looking back at you as he slots the key into the lock.

You stare back at him, not quite appalled by the request, but by his gall. 

“Your boyfriend just bro” —he slurs through the word— “-ooke up with you, hm? I could take your mind off that. And feed you, if you like.” He licks his lips. “Sir.”

“You know what.” You shake off the embarrassment, again. Thrice, this man has had you embarrassed. “What size are you?”

“XL in Trojan.” 

Huh. That’s exactly what you have in your bag. 

“If you have a bed, I won’t even need any bread.”

“We’re fucking, then?”

He unlocks the door. 

“Definitely.”

—

“Relax.” His hand settles onto the middle of your back, gently guiding you onto your hands with your ass up in the air. His other hand rims your hole, casually skilled in its motions as he dips his hand palm-down and curls it to press into your prostate. You’re already loose for him, prepped by his strong fingers. Hole slick with lube. 

“You can think about him like this, yes?” he chuckles. “I’ll be thinking about you, though.”

“I’m letting you go bareback,” you stammer slightly as his fingers press into you in a wonderful arch, “Whose cock d-do you think I’ll be thinking about?”

“If it hurts, tell me. I’ll take it s-slow with you.” The skill this man has, even when drunk, makes you wonder how he might have you if he were clear-headed and sober. Your cock is already leaking onto his bed sheets.

The head of his cock taps into your hole. Inch by inch, he slips into you. The muscles in your ass stretch around him. His cock, slick with lube, comes halfway in. At the sheer stretch, your face twists. You turn away from him.

“Too much?” he asks. “Come on. Let me help you adjust so I can fuck you into my bed already.”

Fuck. Why’s he turning so mean? You’re clenching up a little over it. 

“No,” you order. “Keep going.”

You can feel him frown from behind you, but he continues. His hips draw closer to yours. His hands grip you hard. Your body nearly gives out when his cock, so much fucking thicker than any you’ve ever taken, finally brushes upward into your prostate. 

“Ngh,” you moan softly, mouth dropping open. 

“Mm, no need to be embarrassed. I’ll ha-ave you worse in a bit.”

“Stop talking like that,” you mutter, arching your back and jutting your pretty ass out. “Just give it to me.” 

You shift your weight to your knees, sliding his cock further between your cheeks until he’s inside you up to the base and you can feel the strong lines of his stomach on your ass. He grunts, throwing his head back as your hole swallows him up.

With your ass to his hips, he laughs, a drunken chuckle breaking the air. “Needy big boy.” He grinds his hips into the plush fat of your ass cheeks. The muscles in his stomach rub against you. “Your bo-oooyfriend too small for it?”

You fumble for a reply with him tucked deep inside you. You find nothing coherent. Honesty becomes your next best virtue: “Just fuck me!”

“Bratty.”

But he does fuck you. Your hole clenches around him as he pulls out, your body knowing better than you how badly you need him to fuck into you. 

“Spread your legs,” he mutters, grabbing the inside of your thigh, just above your knee, to wrap it around his waist. “I’ll fuck you good. You keep showin’ that you don’t want me to nice about this.”

You lose all sense of balance. His hips drive into you harder, but he keeps your leg in the air, wrapped firmly around his waist. At his mercy, you tip forward, ass far up enough it allows him room to thrust almost vertically into your hole.

“Keep. Your back. Arched,” he demands, his free hand settling on the small of your back. Again, he molds your body to follow his command. That’s all it takes for your mouth to open. You moan, shameless in the pleasure this drunk, nameless man is giving you. In his strong sense of control. In knowing that you can simply lie there and take it—let yourself be a sweet, tight hole for such a big man. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice ripe with pure satisfaction. “Good boy.”

“Fuck!” you cry when the blonde angles his hips to pile-drive right into the sensitive muscle of your prostate. Each press into that sensitive muscle sends strong jolts of pleasure straight from his cock, into your ass and up every one of your nerves. “Fuck, please!”

“You’re tight,” he mutters, and you try to wrap your head around the drunken garble of his words but he’s really only talking to himself,  “And I’m not sober. Don’t think I’ll last long…”

His thrusts slow, gradually, to a sensual grind. Like the thrusts of a long-time lover. You give a moan at the slow, intentional drag along your prostate, of his bare cock, veins and hardness and all, sliding rawly inside you.

He continues this pace. You spare a glance at the beautiful drunk man taking you from behind. He shivers with every push of his hips, closed eyes fluttering whenever your hole gives a good clench. His mouth has fallen open. You smell the booze on his breath. The cologne sprayed into his forearms. 

What a delicious man.

“Can’t take it, huh?” you tease, nearly drunk yourself, on his cock. “I’m too tight for you?”

He looks up at you from under blonde lashes, eyes hazy from liquor. “Do you want me to fuck a baby into you?”

You blink at the question. “Huh?”

“I—” he hiccups. “I can’t keep up that pace for long. It’ll make both of us cum quick.”

You have never had this kind of conversation during sex. Not with Suguru. Not even with men like Toji. “You mean, like earlier?”

He gives a long, pleasured sigh as he continues his measured thrusts, his head falling back once more. So easily distracted just because you’re better than anything he’s ever had. You know that for a fact. “Mmmhmmm… just like earlier.” One of his hands falls from your hip. His face relaxes into the picture of bliss.

Your own eyes flutter as his cockhead catches your prostate. You turn away from him, giving a soft gasp with your face in the pillow. His cock is so good. 

You feel the bed shift, creaking. His hands slide up your body, up past your peaked nipples and bulging pecs until he can slot a hand under your jaw to tilt your head up so that your moans erupt into open air. 

“I don’t want you to keep quiet for me,” he murmurs, his chest to your back, his mouth on your ear. You tense, and without even a single one of his fingers on you your cock gives a harsh, aching throb into the sheets.

“I—” your words break off with a loud moan as his hand wraps around your throat in full. You can feel his drunken smile on your ear. “I want that baby.”

“Don’ worry,” he chuckles. “I’ll give it to you.” 

You know he means it. And you brace yourself, hands back on the bed as his body straightens. You watch him, peering behind you from under the sweat on your brow. He pours lube into his hand. Sets the bottle on the nightstand. He smiles as he meets your eyes. 

“Back arched, pretty boy.” 

You thrust your ass into the air, back straight as a rod for him. Your eyes find the pillow once more. Minimalist embroidery lines the silk. 

His thrusts resume, and the pillow moves in your vision. You chew on your bottom lip as his thrusts overwhelm every other sensation, as his scent and the growing musk of sex shoots up your nostrils. His wet hand slips between your body and the sheets. 

His hand finds your cock. You shiver at the feel. He strokes you in slow, squeezing strokes, all in time with every press of his hips into yours.

You shudder against him, pressed tight between the sheets and his musculature on your back. “Mmnnn…” His fingers roam the head of your cock, pressing into the slit with skill. Rubbing precum all over your tip. Your balls have never felt so full.

“Call me Kento, hm?” he says. 

“Ahn… I’m (Name).” 

“Handsome name.” His pace quickens. Edged with desperation. Oh, fuck. He’s starting to throb inside you. 

His grunts break off into loud moans of your name. The pace of his hand grows. His fingers twist around your tip in mind-numbing, impossibly nimble strokes.

“Sir, Kento—please slow… down… oh!”

His hand is so fucking slick on your cock. Like creamy butter wrapping around your length. You cry out and buck wildly against him, your hips pushing him away while he pushes merciless, borderline violent thrusts into your prostate.

“Please oh god please please I can’t—I can’t—” you whine, begging for him to stop because you’re going to cum all over his sheets in under a minute since he’s started fucking you like he means it. 

He tames your hips, pushing a strong hand into the small of your back. Your spine stays arched. God he’s taking such good care of you, ensuring the perfect arch in your back so that his thrusts don’t push into a limp spine and end up injuring you.

Your body still struggles against him, the onset of an orgasm approaching too fast. “Kento, please....”

His cock gives a violent throb inside you. If you could see his face, you would see the deep furrow between his brows, the way your words have him gritting his teeth.

“You can,” he tells you. “You will. You are. I’m going to make you cum while I put my baby inside you.” 

His body envelops yours. Kento hunches over you. His thrusts lose their rhythm, and can you really blame him when he’s drunk and fucking into someone as good as you? The heat of his labored, hard breathing falls over your ear. You know he’s having a hard time trying to hold back, trying to get you there at the same time as him. 

But his thrusts only get harder. Impossibly. More brutal, more desperate than you thought possible. You fall face-first into the pillow, his own face pressed into the back of your head, buried in your hair. Through the haze of your fast-approaching orgasm you feel him murmur praise and thanks into your hair. 

“Feel so good,” he says. “(Name), you feel so good.” 

His mouth finds the back of your ear. He moans those same sweet nothings. Praising you, a good samaritan of a stranger, not for helping him home or offering to share a snack earlier, but for finally keeping your back arched for him, for being a good hole for him, for spreading your legs for him.

He tugs at your hair to remove your face from the pillow, and you know he might be a little bit angry to see you hiding your pleasure from him. With a hand on your head, fingers locked into your hair, he uses you as leverage to pound into your ass, his face still pressed up against you. You feel the weight of him closing over you. He engulfs every other sense.

You gasp in oxygen. Whining and press your ass back into his hips, begging with your body for him to get you to cum all over his sheets.

He moans from behind you. You feel his cock pulsate. Your own throbs as he squeezes it in his hand.

“Told you—” he grunts. “I don’t last long at this pace.” 

You moan with him as his cock shoots cum up your hole. You savor his sounds, cupping the back of his neck with a hand to bring him close to you, upon the crook of your neck. He shudders with his orgasm, collapsing on top of you and forcing your kness to give, your cock squished between your body and the sheets. He presses even deeper inside in this position. You feel his back arch to push in until you know every centimeter of him is throbbing inside you, working to plug you full of his cum. His hand cups your face, lovingly. His other grips your hip to bring you closer to him, so that you are hip to ass, no space in between.

“Fuck, you didn’t cum,” he mutters, even as he’s still piping you full of his cream. He pulls out and you don’t even see how he moves, the world simply spins, and then you’re on your back and for a moment his cum shoots onto your stomach, the tip of his cock twitching with his orgasm, before he’s filling you again. 

His hand finds your cock. But by then he’s already close to finishing, his eyes fluttering with the rest of his orgasm. His breathing comes out as labored moans as his cock erupts with cum inside you. Through the intense orgasm, he still manages to prop your legs over his shoulders in a swift movement and resume his thrusts at only a fraction behind the breakneck pace from earlier.

He slams into your prostate, already finished and ascending into the pain of overstimulation. You see it on his face. He squeezes at your cock and borderline abuses the sensitive, quavering tip. 

“Cum for me?” he asks with a grunt.

Your cock throbs as you cum all over his abs. Given the pace your moans are loud, desperate, the squelches of his hand squeezing your cock and your own hole wrapping tight around him a wild cacophony that emerges as a pleasant symphony to his ears.

He chuckles. “There we go.” 

When you finish, dazed eyes focused on a blurry point on the ceiling, he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Good boy.” 

Water splashes in the next room as your stranger runs a bath. When he pulled out, giving you another kiss, this time on your jawline, he had immediately rushed to the bathroom to grab you a clean towel. You’d never been pumped so full of someone else’s cum before. Even he seemed surprised.

The man, Kento, you remember moaning, approaches the bed. “May I?” 

You spread your legs. You don’t have it in you in the present moment to be independent or shy. He was the one who made the mess inside you, after all. 

He wipes the cum dribbling out your hole gently. His hand settles gently on your knee as he works. Then he flips the towel to its cleaner side to wipe your cum from your stomach. Seems like he’s cleaned your cum off of his abdomen.

He stares at your stomach for a moment, eyes fluttering in thought. Before he can wipe the fluids away, you scoop up a good amount with your fingers. You rise into a sitting position. Face moving close to his. He opens his mouth as you give him a taste of your cum with your fingers. 

You laugh deeply. “Ha. Good boy.” 

[5umttyg1rl]

PREVIEW

MINORS DNI🚫🚫

Synopsis: Jake get’s jealous of the young warriors gifting you at the clan celebration…obviously he has to remind you who you belong to.

Warnings: p n v, choking, overstim, hints of subspace(If you squint),!mean Jake!, degrading,praise, use of “daddy”, semi-public, bruising

“A-ahh!” you sob as Jake thrusts into you. “ Shut up and take it.” He grunts as he continues to piston into you roughly grabbing your hips. “ You think you're so sly, huh? Letting those warriors give you all those gifts knowing how they feel. Ignoring me?” He seethes, as You cry out as his pace somehow gets even rougher. You truly didn’t mean to make him this mad. I mean sure you were ignoring him a little but you were enjoying the celebration and as tshaik you were over-seeing everyone's well being & the ceremony. But the gifts? You didn’t think much of it, just as a kind gesture. What you hadn’t noticed however was the ever growing scowl on jake's face as he watched one by one and how they held giant grins on there faces you would have never thought that they would hold a sort of romance.You never thought he would see someone else as a threat to your marriage. You thought that nothing got under Jake's skin. Apparently… something did. “ I’m s-sorry I thought it was harmless conversation & gifts.” You hiccup surprised you can even form a thought. “Harmless” my ass I saw the way they looked at you. The way their hungry eyes raced over your figure” He accentuates each thing he says with a hard thrust making you fall apart under him more. Suddenly he flips you on your back, folding your le*s as he push*s back into you. “O-oh~ mmm-m~, daddy!” You say as you c*y out at the new position. Suddenly he slows his pace and you whine until he says “whaddya say?” looking down at you with a proud smirk. You whine in embarrassment as he now just sits in you. “C’mon say it again, I wanna hear how dumb this cock makes you.” He says grinning as he watches you try to hide. He suddenly grabs your face as he brings you closer,patients thinning. “C’mon don’t get all shy or daddy won’t give you whatcha want.” He says his grin widening. “P-please daddy~.” you moan out in desperation. “ good girl~” He says as he starts again. The harder he went the more you felt yourself fall into that familiar spiral of pleasure. The way the lines between your mind and reality blurred. Unable to focus on anything other than Jake and the delicious feeling he was feeding you.The harder he went the further you fell into bliss. You felt yourself clench at a particularly hard thrust and scream as he digs deeper in you. "Ah-ah~ keep quiet you don't wanna let everyone hear what a slut you are do you?" He says as he covers your mouth and continues fucking you into oblivion....

(SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME IF THIS IS BAD)

[ravenssilver]

Phantom/Aeon waking up from a nightmare while rolling with someone and craves comfort but is too scared to ask for it?

mmm aeon angst.. my favorite👹

1k words of aeon having a reoccurring nightmare and being too nervous to outright ask for comfort.

cw: nightmare of the Pit, detailed summoning process from aeon’s pov, aeon continues to be traumatized, more of my aeon lore and a bit of how i see the pit :)

under the cut if you please<3

Darkness.

Deep, deep darkness.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

It was all he remembered before he felt it.

Cold. He felt extremely cold. His feet planted on something every time he stepped forward. The ground was almost soft, but it made him sick every time his felt his feet sink into it.

He tripped after a few minutes of wandering, looking behind him and down at the ground, only to see a bone.

A sickly feeling bubbled in his throat as he looked a few feet to the right, squinting through the darkness just to seeing bits and pieces of the skeleton that the bone was a part of.

He quickly turned around again and began running, trying to ignore the dizziness in his skull as he felt a sharp, painful tug in his soul.

He ran and ran and ran, eventually falling to his knees and sobbing when the pain in his chest was too much to bear.

Then, he was choking, like all the little oxygen in the Pit had been sucked away. He clawed at his throat, coughing and heaving in the dust of the wasteland around him into his lungs.

He felt the ice cold wind suddenly be evaporated into steam as his skin burned with the heat of a thousand suns, Aeon choking out a cry of agony as he planted a hand on the flesh-like material under him. Sweat escaped his pores, dripping off of his nose as he trembled and tried to heave in the oxygen that was absent from his surroundings.

His eyes rolled back after an excruciating minute and a half, his body going limp and collapsing onto the sickly soft ground.

His consciousness faded. Though, not before he felt a sudden grab of his ankle as he was yanked-

Aeon gasped as he jolted awake, a choked sound of surprise leaving him as he fell off the edge of his bed. He grunted as he hit the cold floor of his room, still tied up in his blankets.

His lilac eyes darted around the room for a moment before he slowly sat up, feeling the fear and adrenaline coursing through his system as he thought about the nightmare he had just woken up from.

Then the tears started.

Aeon didn’t want to go back to the Pit. He didn’t even want to think about it. He had a life with his new pack. He was happy.

So why couldn’t he shake that damn dream?

Aeon slowly rose to his feet after fighting to get free from the blankets. His legs shook as he tried to get his wits about him, holding back his whimpers and cries so only his shadow casted by the moon would hear.

He laid back down in his cold bed, curling up into himself with a shaky sigh as he closed his eyes, only to snap them open again as he was met with the vision of the Pit.

Aeon swallowed harshly and rolled onto his back, staring up at his ceiling.

He wanted someone from his pack. Dewdrop, Mountain, Aurora would’ve been just fine. But no.. he wanted Swiss.

Of course, wanting was what got him to that damn wasteland in the first place. Constantly searching, finding, and taking things that he simply wanted in his human life was what got him under Mammon’s control.

That is until Copia saved him.

With that damned summoning ritual.

Aeon shivered as he thought about the air that had been stolen from his lungs, which he learned was courtesy of Cirrus and Cumulus providing their element to Copia’s ritual.

He remembered how he got a preview of Dew’s anger and initial hatred for him when he felt heat that only fire could bring spreading over him. Heat that was prosperous on earth. Fire that Aeon once longed for in the barren wasteland. The sweat that only Rain’s element of water could provide in Limbo. The way his body went stiff like the bark of a tree, Mountain’s element tied with Rain and Dewdrop’s.

Aeon wanted Swiss. Badly.

The multi was the only one who hadn’t participated in Aeon’s trauma. He didn’t help with the ritual that quite literally killed him again before dragging him kicking and screaming Topside.

Swiss was his safety when he could finally open his half-blinded eyes again.

But he didn’t want to be seen as weak.

All the other ghouls got over their summoning. Aurora was over it to the best of Aeon’s knowledge, so why wasn’t Aeon over his own?

Aeon shook his head and got out of bed, walking on wobbly legs out of his room and to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Though, as he walked into the kitchen, he saw Swiss standing there on his phone as the microwave hummed. Aeon froze dead in his tracks, his bloodshot eyes widening as he saw a slightly blurry outline of Swiss.

“Hey, honeybat,” Swiss smiled as he glanced at Aeon, only to do a quick double take. “Woah… are you okay?” Swiss asked, setting his phone down on the island counter and walking over to Aeon. Aeon sighed shakily, knowing he couldn’t lie to Swiss no matter how badly he wanted to.

The smaller ghoul shook his head, keeping his eyes set on Swiss’ chest as to avoid eye contact.

“Nightmare?” Swiss asked, gently cupping Aeon’s jaw and lifting his head so he could look into Aeon’s lilac eyes. Aeon sniffled and nodded. “The same one.” He muttered.

Swiss frowned and pulled Aeon into a hug.

“You floaty?” Swiss asked softly, knowing Aeon sometimes got in his own head and went back to the Pit mentally. “I was for a minute. I’m okay now.” Aeon mumbled, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Swiss’ neck.

Swiss nodded, slipping his clawed fingers into Aeon’s shaggy hair and gently massaging. Swiss began breathing deeply, silently instructing Aeon to follow his actions and breathe with him.

Aeon subconsciously followed his actions, lulling himself into an almost half-asleep state. Swiss kissed at the base of Aeon’s horn.

“You’re here with me, honeybat. You’re warm, you’re breathing just fine. You’re here.” Swiss whispered, squeezing Aeon just the slightest bit more to help ground him in the moment.

Aeon sighed in relief and relaxed even more in Swiss’ hold, finding his eyes slipping shut as Swiss held him in a way that was nothing but loving and protective.

He was there. Aeon was standing there, in the kitchen with Swiss.

He’s okay.

[mako-asmr]

~Wake Up Kitten~

Catnap & Dogday {SFW}

Hope you guys enjoy this one, remember this is only the preview! If you want access to the full fanfic (as well as other fanfics & audios I've made) feel free to join my Ko-Fi or Patreon ^^ Anyways, enjoy the fanfic folks and I'll see you guys next Thursday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Catnap, get up!”

This was a very frequent occurrence for the eclipse duo, Dogday would find his feline companion fast asleep in some of the most peculiar places. Under the bed, in a storage box, he even found him on top of the fridge one evening. On this day in question Dogday had found the cat resting outside, curled up in a bed of flowers.

Much like usual, Dogday only got a sleepy grumble in response from the cat, who remained peacefully asleep and unaware of the dog's concern.

“Kitten, you're gonna catch a cold.” The canine whined a bit in between his words, it wasn’t exactly the best weather for Catnap to be sleeping in considering the fact that it would start raining soon.

“Mmm..” Catnap didn’t budge at his companions' concerns, while he was sure Dogday had a good reason to worry he (much like usual) was far too tired to care.

“Kitten, you either get up or I get you up.” The tone Dogday had used sounded serious, although not threatening. His words held a hint of playfulness which Catnap took note of quickly, the feline knew that tone all too well.

Now you would think at this point anyone would just listen to their concerned friend and get up to go inside, right? Well, let’s just say Catnap isn’t easily persuaded.

“Mmm..” Catnap let out one last grumble as he turned onto his stomach, further ignoring the canine's warnings. When he wasn’t met with a response he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous, but it was fine right?

Catnap kept his eyes closed, assuming Dogday had left he decided to try and drift off back to sleep.

“You should have listened to me~”

The felines tail instantly fluffed up upon hearing his companions teasing whispers in his ear, Catnap was going to retort back only to be interrupted by his own giggles as he felt Dogday’s fingers spidering away at his sides.

“H-Hehehehey..!” This was bad, Catnap was still far too tired to really put up a fight. All he could do was squirm around as Dogday continued his attack, his giggling quickly increasing to full blown laughter as he felt the canine target his hips.

“Ah ah, no fusing kitten~ I told you to get up~” Dogday couldn’t help but smile hearing the feline's laughter, he always made sure to tickle Catnap every so often just to hear his sweet giggles and see him smile.

Catnap meekly attempted to push the dogs hands away, his laughter and soft purrs falling freely from his mouth. It was when Dogday began cooing at him that he knew he was done for.

“Aww, are you purring kitten~?” Oh goodness not that tone.

“N-Nohohoho! Dogdahay!” Hearing his companion squeal out his name only further widened the smile on the dog's face. “Yes nightlight?”

Hearing that nickname made Catnap cave almost instantaneously, of course Dogday had to cheat and say that name while simultaneously digging into his armpits. Catnap’s purrs and laughter fell freely from his lips, he could do nothing but squirm and meekly attempt to push the dog’s hands away.

“S-STAHAHAP IT! BAD DOHOHOG!” Dogday let out a dramatic gasp as he heard Catnap’s words (as much as he could with all his laughing anyways).

“Bad dog?” Uh oh.

“Bad dog~?” Catnap shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, I’ll show you a bad dog~!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[screams-in-writing]

Still editing ch 3 and going on to outline ch 4 based off how that ch ends. Tentatively going for an early Thursday/late friday post for ch 3, and if Mr. Puzzles behaves, a possible late sun/early Monday post for ch 4.

For now, have a little preview of a later chapter’s scene where the reader finds out that not only are those tv antenna on Mr. Puzzles’ head actually sensitive, but he’s also very much touch-starved.

Note: This is planned to take place ch 7 or ch 9, if all goes according to the outline. It may change, however, and may even change/be split between pov depending on where it falls when editing.

~ Curiously, you reached out to touch the crooked left antenna. 

Mr. puzzles stuttered, but continued to sing, a furrow appearing on the screen of his face as he turned his head toward the camera, as if trying to see what was on the other side. Likely he was unable to, with how many tvs were in the immediate area of the unused area of the strip mall (and powered on, despite the lack of people).

You touch the right antenna next, pinching the metal between thumb and forefinger. 

This time, Mr. Puzzles actually stopped singing altogether as he promptly spoke in a strained voice.

“Dear viewers, please stand by for a quick maintenance break!”

The screen switched over to a ‘please stand by’ screen with Mr puzzles’ tv head logo on it. But within moments, there was a sudden switch to static before Mr. Puzzles’ technicolor smile and digital eyes appeared on the screen before you, wearing a harried expression. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”  Mr. Puzzles asked. Then, with a flash of a sly smile. “Or were you trying to let me know that you’re enjoying the show?”

“Let my coworkers come back. They didn’t mean anything by their teasing.” You jabbed a finger at the screen. “You can’t just kidnap people to use like puppets in your little shows.”

“Little?” Mr. Puzzles sounded offended and incredulous. “I’ll have you know I always strive for a 5 star rating in everything I do. Little.” A scoff, as mr puzzles voice and expression switched again to become smug. Amused with what he was about to say, even if his voice was anything but. It was cooler and deeper. More indifferent yet also Curious. “What would you do if I don’t let them leave?”

“This.” You deadpanned, repressing a shiver over the tone shift as you reached over to sharply pinch both of Mr. Puzzles’ antenna. 

“Ah!”

Before Mr. Puzzles could say more, you squeezed the metal tight before giving it a sharp yank. You expected a yelp of pain or even a digital stutter, but it was quite the opposite. 

Was that…had that been a moan? 

“What in the-? Are you…are these actually sensitive?!” You let go of the antenna like they’d burned you as you took a step back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-I thought it was more like the equivalent of being poked or something for you.” You jumped a little when one of Mr. Puzzles’ hand, the arm attached to it, came out from beneath the TV to seize your hand. You thought he was going to bring you into his ‘show’, but that wasn’t what happened. 

Mr. Puzzles merely placed your hand back onto one of his antenna. 

“Absolutely not.” You attempted to pull your hand away, despite Mr. Puzzles’ continued hold of your wrist. “I’m not touching your antenna if they’re that sensitive.”

“Please.” Mr. Puzzles sounded like he was winded, even as he took on a pleading tone. “I liked it.”

“…I think we need to have a conversation about what exactly it is you want with my home town and why you keep popping up everywhere I show up after my roommates threatened you with a garbage disposal for following me around without me knowing it.” You said, eying Mr. Puzzles arm and then his screen of a face. Then, shaking your head, added. “I didn’t even realize that you could experience anything like a human. I thought you were a robot?”

“Mmm…more like a cyborg?” Mr. Puzzles mumbled. “I still have some of a human body. It’s just different than before.” The hand loosened its tight grip on your wrist but didn’t let go. “Please?”

no acknowledgment of how odd it was for someone you knew less than a month was so interested in following you about after work, where he had been ‘filling in’ for the hours you couldn’t work.

oh.

speaking of coworkers.

“Bring my coworkers back.” You countered as you moved your hand out of mr puzzles slackened grip.

Mr. Puzzles studied you for a moment, but must have seen something in your expression that made him sigh theatrically that you were serious. Then, he reluctantly retracted his arm back within the tv (somehow). 

Much faster than you expected, Mr. Puzzles let your coworkers go; you could hear them end up in the empty store next door with yells of surprise followed by confusion, and then at least one of the two burst into loud sobs of terror. 

Swifter than even letting your coworkers go, Mr. Puzzles sprang up off the table, and before you knew it, he’d crowded in on you against the wall. Eagerly, he bent down and shoved his screen into your shoulder, before subtly tilting his head to present his antenna to you. No concept of personal space whatsoever, even if Mr puzzles kept his hands to himself by brace it then on his legs. wait.

Oh no.

You’d inadvertently introduced Mr. Puzzles to another way to get attention from someone. 

Possibly attention from you in particular.

This being assumed, because Mr puzzles soon impatiently straightened up when you did nothing, and, gentler than before, grasped your hand and led you over to a chair. 

You sat down, confused, and ready to point out you ought to go check on your still brokenly sobbing coworker when Mr. Puzzles promptly removed his television head to place on your lap. 

So that was a thing.

Mr. Puzzles flashed an expression up at you in what he likely thought was a hopeful look, but it only came off as desperate and deranged. Aaaand his body had just sat down on another chair as it kind of just went…inert, with the hands resting on the top of the knees. 

Weird.  You distantly wonder why the body horror right before you didn’t draw a big reaction from you. Maybe you were in shock? Maybe you’d seen enough of Mr puzzles antics that day in your home and at the cafe that it didn’t seem any different than those times?

“If you’re going to interrupt my show, then perhaps you could show me why you thought it necessary to tug on my poor antenna?” A huff of breath, then a strained. “But don’t actually tug in them so harshly.” A pause. “Please?”

nope. not when you didn’t know if it was a tactile, platonic thing to mr puzzles to have his antenna touched (unlikely based off what you just saw and heard), or if it somehow brought a sensation of pleasure (more likely, and definitely not something a casual acquaintance asked of another).

yikes.

You don’t think that Mr. Puzzles anticipated that you would do something other than what he wanted. So he was in a shock of his own when you stand up, and totter along while carrying his television head out of the abandoned store with you.

This left mr puzzles to fumble around in the dark as he protested, muffled against where you carried him to your chest, the entire way to another store where you set his television head down, and poked the screen to get his attention.

A gasp of comical offense.

 Mr puzzles’ body could be heard running into something with a ‘thud’.

“You can’t do that to my coworkers.” You point to the screen and then to the general area where crying could be heard. “Especially not when you’re already covering for my work while my arm finishes healing up.” You lean in close to make sure mr puzzles was looking at you. “And you shouldn’t kidnap people in general where no one but you knows where they went. My coworkers friends and family were so worried when they were gone for nearly two days.”

sirens sound in the distance.

one of your coworkers called the cops? Or something unrelated?

Mr puzzles might have said something, to try and steer the conversation elsewhere or make up some flimsy excuse, but you were distracted by both the sirens and realization of the heat emanating from his screen. Since the body wasn’t there to grasp your wrist again, you reached out to rest your fingers on Mr. Puzzles’ screen again, ignoring the stutters and glitching that rose in his voice. 

Huh. 

He really did feel like one of those old tube televisions you’d had when you were younger, complete with the warm screen and fuzzy static sensation.

Mr. Puzzles’ voice eventually slipped into soft pleading. Something about not leaving fingerprints on his face, while you curiously traced along the outside of his screen. It didn’t occur to you in the moment that Mr. Puzzles had feeling in his screen of a face, though not as sensitive of a place as the antenna were.  You’d not even noticed the fact that Mr puzzles body had collapsed only feet from where you were, twitching before curling up and hugging itself to then begin to tremble. You only became aware of the body when its long gangly arms wrapped around your waist in a clingy hug that made you jump and accidentally knock mr puzzles head off the flimsy table to the floor.

The arms let go of you as mr puzzles’ body sprawled out on the floor with a groan of discomfort rising from the television set.

“would you care to try that again so I can get a good recording of that?” Mr puzzles sounded huffy, and displeased as he pat around the floor until he found his head. With a grumble, the tv man picked it up to turn on he screen toward you, mr puzzles wearing a slightly feral, unhinged expression.

you swiftly leave the empty store to go check on your coworkers. Mr puzzles did not follow, but you could hear a low laughter ring out from the room behind you along with a raised, falsely cheerful lilt of a farewell that sounded more like a threat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” A little unhinged laughter trickled out. “I look forward to having another…stimulating conversation with you, my dear.”

Later, when you weren’t looking over your shoulder for Mr. Puzzles, you wondered why he let you touch his face, when he seemed so averse to anyone but him touching his television face, especially when you’d punched him in the screen not a month ago. Not only that, you also came out of the odd interaction with the knowledge that Mr. Puzzles could be successfully diverted from his hyper focus of turning your town into the greatest television show ever (or tormenting your coworkers in one of his shows) with just a touch to his inhuman head, and the antenna that stuck out of that ridiculous hat of his. 

[babybratzmaraj]

Coming Fall 2024!

A/N: thank you too @thecapodomme for the idea🥺 bc lowkey im tired of leaving yall in the dusstlove you girly! but no honestly the folks been wanting my take on {PLACE NAME HERE} (and by folks i mean one person but it shall soon be more ppl) SO HERE IT IS!

enjoy your trailer…

You jumped at his raspy voice from the other line, you didn’t expect his ass to answer you, especially at 11:46 at night. “{?}! I didn’t expect you to answer.”

“Well I did, so what’s up? Rae OK?”

“Yes she’s fine, she’s at mama Mabel house,” you reassured him, smiling at how caring he was over his daughter. “Just me.”

“Oh, so why you calling me?” This nigga, you looked into the imaginary camera and rolled your eyes. “I’m calling because, I don’t know.”

“Girl are you drunk right now?” he asked, hearing him ruffle with his blanket as you snickered in his ear,playing with your hoodie as you shamefully hoped you’d regret these next few words:

“I miss you, you should come over George.”

The line went silent for what felt like eternity, until, {?}’s adult laughter erupted from the other side of the phone, what a fuckin asshole!

“I got some shit to do first, but I can try to slide through.” Bullshit!

“You always say something but you never follow through! It’s like you like leading a nigga on.”

“I’m sorry,” {?} pouted through the phone, “I’m working on it, can you bare with me? Please princess?”

And there it goes, those butterflies, the smile that crept on your face, the silent jitters that bursted through when it reached its peak. You love it and you loved him, looking to the sky and thanking god that he snuck into your life and into your circle of trust.

“oookay,” you dragged your word in defeat, unable to hide from the fact that it sounded like you were smiling, his ass didn’t need to know that, he already got a big ass head.

“Ight now gimme a kiss,” he asked politely and you obliged, laughing at his ‘mmm mm mm!’s booming out the speakers as he returned them.

“See you soon.” was the last thing you said before you ended the call, hopping off the counter and pranced around the house.

coming soon to a screen near you…

preview is subjected to change as it is only my first draft of dis hoe but it will be worth it to you/us.

@megamindsecretlair @thecapodomme @theebaddesttt (idk who to add to this taglist fr😖😖 ian tryna spoil it for yawl but lmk if you wanna be added!)

and trigger warning: this was written and inspired by a chris brown song but its fine if you dont use said song for it, ill find a matching vibe for the song

[hyperthusiast]

Been busy with holiday stuff this week, but I'm editing the next chapter of Red with Envy now, and I intend to get it out today. Here's a fluffy little preview!

“Mmm, it’s refreshing to see you taking a different approach from pandering to the masses,” Alastor purred thoughtfully. “It’s a good look for you.”  Vox tilted his screen towards him with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. “You like seeing me pissed off? Well, I guess that explains a lot.”  His smile inched up higher. “I like seeing you real, darling. It just so happens that when you’ve donned your public facade, making you mad is the easiest way to see it!”  He laughed, his smile spreading more genuinely over his screen. “Well, saying sweet shit like that is a good way, too, just so you know.” Alastor reached across himself to grab the bottom of Vox’s screen, rubbing his thumb along it gently before pulling him into a tender kiss. Vox immediately melted into him, letting his tablet fall to his lap and bringing a hand up to cup the deer demon’s cheek.  “And this?” Alastor murmured against his lips.  “The best way,” he whispered before deepening the kiss, pressing his tongue into his mouth.

[asterinthewritten]

i finished my mavuitano fic.

oh y'all aren't ready. i wrote almost 10k words for this bad boy (9852 including titles to be exact). so have a little preview while i finalize the edit :))

“Nice of you to join me, Captain,” Mavuika says in greeting. She hums a little, the sound of phony thoughtfulness. “However, I don’t recall inviting you to this late night drink in particular.”

“Ah, but you didn’t stop me, either,” he says, grateful for the mask that hides his smile. Mavuika stifles hers with a swig from her bottle.

The Captain beholds the sight of the Pyro Archon in her pajamas, her hair waving like fire in the wind, and entirely too many bottles of liquor scattered around her. He can guess the answer but still, he asks, “Why are you still awake at this hour?” 

The low timbre of his voice sends shivers down her spine. The liquor is definitely still burning in her veins. Mavuika’s words don’t slur, but her fire is still way too hot. 

“I could ask you the same damn thing. Where have you been scampering about in the dead of night? We may have an alliance right now, but if I find out you’ve been doing anything to jeopardize the fragile peace of my nation…”

The Captain only chuckles, walking towards where Mavuika is seated. “Relax, Archon,” he drawls, sitting down next to her. Mavuika fights another shiver. “When the Abyss is concerned, you know that I would never do anything that would lead to another nation’s fall.” 

He reaches for a small silver flask in his coat. “As for the Gnosis, however…”

“Fat chance,” Mavuika clucks. He huffs, the sound almost a laugh. “What are you drinking?”

“Firewater,” he says, exhaling slightly from the burn. “Vodka, in Snezhnayan. And you?”

Mavuika raises up the bottle she’s holding. “Blue Fire. Mexcalli, in Natlanese. But I suppose the young ones call it mezcal now.”

She hands her bottle wordlessly to him, and he gives her his flask in response. She drinks a large gulp from it, from the knowledge that Snezhnayans take “shots” of it instead of sipping it lightly. She hopes the Captain knows it is not the same with mezcal.

“That’s firewater alright,” Mavuika exhales, savoring the slightly sweet but mostly flavorless burn down her throat. 

The Captain blows out a sharp breath, trying to expel the sweet smoke from the fire igniting in his chest. It’s a feeling he’d never thought he would miss, but he does all the same. “I thought you drink mexcalli with a chaser. Like lemon. Or salt.”

“You do,” Mavuika laughs. She hands his flask back to him, and watches amused as he chases the mexcalli with vodka. “I couldn’t find any on my way here. I didn’t want to trouble anyone else to get me some, either.” 

Her tone takes a teasing turn. “Why? Too bitter for you, Captain?”

“Hardly,” the Captain snorts. Mavuika laughs again, and she thinks she’s still giddy from the alcohol, even though most of it’s already burned away. 

Maybe it was the view, the spirits, or hearing her lovely laugh, but the Captain found himself using his Delusion to chill Mavuika’s bottle before giving it back to her.

She takes a swig, moaning at the cold burn. The Captain swallows a bizarre lump in his throat. 

“Mmm, that’s better. You know me entirely too well, Captain.”

“We’ve shared drinks before,” he says simply. 

“Ah, from the first night of our victory feast,” she smiles, “Quite observant of you.”

The Captain only hums. He did notice then that she drank her whiskey on the rocks, and all the other drinks she had were chilled.

But he remembers all too well that they’ve shared drinks in another victory feast, during a different time.

[sylveon-official]

Husk should probably leave. Really, he probably should have left ten minutes in when he'd figured out exactly what kind of show this was. But now that his eyes are locked with Angel’s half-lidded gaze as he takes it from behind from some beefcake, any possibility of escape has become effectively hopeless.

Or: Husk tries to surprise Angel at a show and it ends up being live sex, whoops!

preview below, read the rest on ao3. mind the rating!

The moment Husk finally had the sense to pack it in is the moment Angel spots him.

Angel is splayed out on his back on a prop table, head thrown back and legs held in a spread eagle as his stage partner lines up his cock to Angel’s entrance.

Angel’s eyes are clenched shut as he moans out an over-the-top, “Oh yeah, Daddy, stick it in me!”

The other performer groans out a, “With pleasure, princess~” and Angel’s eyes slowly peel open as the other guy starts to push in.

Husk is flushing up to his ears, and against his baser instincts, decides that if there was ever a time to sneak out, it’s now.

As soon as Husks stands up, wincing at his hard-on chafing against his slacks, Angel’s eyes lock onto his. Time seems to stand still as Angel’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly and the moan escaping his throat chokes into something higher and more raw as his partner bottoms out. Husk stands frozen, fully expecting Angel to slip his performance mask back on and go on as if never having seen him (of course until he stomps back into the hotel tonight, furious).

But that’s not what happens. Unfortunately for Husk’s dick, Angel’s lips stretch into a merciless smirk, eyes going half-lidded as he draws a finger to his lips. 

“Mmm, yeah!” Angel whines as the man behind him grabs his thighs and starts up a steady rhythm, eyes trained on Husk all the while. “You enjoyin’ the show, baby?” Angel pants, one of his arms coming down to brush through his chest fluff, his bottom two gripping either edge of the table to lift himself up and lewdly grind up into each thrust. Angel’s partner replies with some corny one-liner, but Husk has fully tuned him out by this point.

Then, Angel bites his lip and winks at him. Fuck. Caught red-handed, he falls back into his seat, feeling for his bottle of whiskey to take a hardy swig. When he comes up for air, Angel’s eyes are still on him. 

[acourtofquestions]

Ugh I’ve been so MIA I hate it 😭🖤 but I finally got my hands on a book last night and I can’t even

🚨KoA kinda round up🚨 from the depths of a sleep deprived forgetful quick rambling tired soul fangirling

Aedion screaming please and I take it back as Lysandra stands as Aelin in front of a war

The witch towers with the yielding which is scaring the hell out of me

Aelin reuniting with Chaol seeing him walk and that hug cause healing

And then immediately recognizing Yrene and their moment

And then her and Hasar being the queens they are

Plus Borte being Borte and just so many great characters in one shot

And I’m just so proud of Elide

And guys please for the love of gods just go to Terrasen

And then you have the cadre in all their glory and the ways she describes them which cracks me up because it’s like “stern beautiful Rowan” “glowing golden Gavriel” “Fenrys darling” “miserable bastard Lorcan” and their dynamic I just can’t even🤣 like the two of them have the sibling dynamic down to a science of “we hate each other… but okay maybe not really I guess their fine”

But then they learn about Maeve and holy shit rip my soul out and slap me with it

And then Aelin crying to Rowan which killed a little bit of my soul and healed it to hear it put into words and then killed it again and then there’s her and Fenrys and Gavriel and Rowan

“IM SO SO TIRED ROWAN”🖤 (but also why are we having this talk on an ice covered river… guys drowning is a real issue, just like scoot back into the forrest please?)

“No one would have left you like that, no one”😭 (I did spend like 10 minutes on Reddit trying to figure out what the “do you want me to tell you about it” line meant but I’m pretty sure it was stuff like that😭)

🥺”We fight”🥹

Chaol and Yrene need to talk about the baby so they can celebrate for .5 seconds cause there both being adorable again

Also like is there a new third person view cause now chapters end like “2 minutes in someone chaol never expected walks in” but then 4 chapter later the convo starts & then halfway through someone walks in… it’s not even forshadowing its like a preview?

Also are all valg princes princesses?

But like where’s my babies where’s my 13 where’s my Manon? Where’s my Dorian? We need the king and witch queen! How about my flower child who’s all dopey and in love? But also like no news is good news? I WANT AELIN NOWHERE NEAR THE KEYS WITH HER DEATH PLOT THESE DAYS MMM NO and then I thought it was the 13 when the wiverns pulled up but no it’s a witch tour greatgreatgreat greatgreatgreatgreeeeeeaaattttt

And have I mentioned I’m dead inside and this book is my world and it’s falling apart but in the beautiful perfect kinda way that feels like watching deathly hallows again but better

Also like I’m waiting for Aelin to unleash a fire storm

And it’s Rhoe’s shield🥺🥹

So idk this is where we are today

Chapter 51 here I come let’s see what Lorcan and inevitably Elide are up to and try to do some better posting catch up since the sleep deprivation is at peak productivity and let’s hope all my bbs reunite for a few scenes now and not to die or something cause is that too much to ask

P.S. MOONBEAM🤣🤣🤣

And I love how he just like ✨KAPOW💥 shifts I mean minus the trauma portion but the dramatic light flash effect would make Rhys (our lil wedding crasher) proud

PS PS I still love Nox

[madamechrissy]

Preview for Take Me Home Tonight - ch 13

law professor Gojo x law student fem reader

Explicit - masterlist- it's out! Chap 13

“That’s it, baby girl, cum for me.”

How can you not cum for Satoru Gojo, as his thick length is stretching you, as his eyes are locked on yours, as he’s urging you on. You fall apart, pussy throbbing around him, and he hisses at how good it feels, as you’re gushing wetness down his pants, all down to those fancy leather seats of the limo. You hear your squishing, how wet you are as he pounds up into you.

His brows are drawn together, his pale cheeks flushed with pink, his pouty lips parted as he gasps, and holds you up, leaning further back into the seat, as he pumps your pussy full, as you look down and see your slickness pooling around the white hair on his pelvis. You brace yourself on his hard chest, feeling his heart thudding against your palm, as you lean forward, and he captures your lips.

You drink in his moans, as he sips up your cries, and you’re holding yourself up as much as you can so he can fuck into you harder, your lips breaking apart, eyes rolling back as he’s kissing up your jaw. Satoru’s moaning in your ear is far too sexy, that husky deep sound as he slows, rolling his hips and pulling your hair.

“Miss Brat, your pussy is far too good, I’m gonna sue you for… misuse of… kegals.” You giggle breathless, as he slows more, and you ease down on him, trying to move, all sweaty despite the cool air in the limo, looking right into his bright eyes, lidded with desire.

“I only do kegals as - fuck! Toru…” He’s pushing you down, his hand sliding between you to roll a circle on your clit with his thumb, and you’re falling apart all over him again, crying out as you cum harder.

He smirks, biting his lower lip between those sharp teeth, raising a brow as he watches as your orgasm hits you. “Can’t even… mmm… finish an argument, huh Miss Brat? Under… pressure…”

“F-fuck! Okay… I use kegals for you and to make you cum fast- ah!” Satoru is scowling as he smacks your ass, and you’re giggling breathlessly, but it dies when he’s got you laid out on the long limo seat, laying on top of you, as you’re a trembling mess under him.

“Objection.” He huffs, and you can’t laugh, he’s shoved his cock to the hilt, dragging the tip on your g spot, overstimulating you as his heavy balls are smacking against your ass.

“Objection to what!? Fuck, Toru, there, there!”

“No. Sustained.” You laugh again, and earn a scowl. “You can laugh, huh, not fucking you hard enough, baby.”

“I-what- ah!” Now Satoru is fucking you so hard it’s brutal, mean cock bullying into your entrance over and over, as his long fingers wrap your throat, squeezing and making everything fuzzy. “You’re rusty, Professor, sustained- ah- doesn’t… fuck, doesn’t apply!”

“Fucking brat, swear to-” He’s slamming harder, raising your thigh up to where your feet are on his shoulder, then you can’t take it, you’re a writhing mess, as he’s whining out softly, kissing up your ankles, even the tops of your feet as he pounds you, such a contradiction.

Your pussy is struggling to accomodate him, as he’s slamming that cervix at a bruising pace, unrelenting. You’re losing oxygen as he squeezes your throat tighter, as he takes over everything you are, igniting that insane heat in your core that is about to spill over. Your tits bounce with every thrust, and he moans as he watches.

“Play with em, law student. Now.”

[vomitspit2]

ARNOLFINI PORTRAIT (preview)

“If I pull a single bristle out of my asscheeks tomorrow, you’re dead,” you warn sternly over your shoulder.

“Yea, yea, I’m bein’ careful.”

But Floyd and the word ‘careful’ do not have a healthy relationship, so you tilt your head to look over the same shoulder you just talked to. A shiver tangos up your spine. Crouched behind you, nude as the day he was born, Floyd takes a cold paintbrush dipped in non-toxic paint and runs it up your bare thighs. Lavender coats from the apple of your butt down to your ankles, only on the dorsal parts.

Foyd runs the brush up your lumbar muscle, handle briefly pushing at your sex. He sure is taking his sweet time with this. “Ain’t gonna pull anything out but my tongue.”

“Ouch!” When you turn back again, Floyd’s lips are kissed by lavender. A glare forms as the bite-mark on your butt hums in pain. “Careful, he says.”

Yet, you say this chuckling as Floyd laughs happily. A shiver slams into your body when he takes a generous amount of very cold paint, finishing up your left cheek. Luckily, you do not get anymore bite-marks until Floyd paints the bottoms of your feet – even then it only one bite on your pinkie toe, gentle.

All finished, you put your hand in Floyd’s. Speckles of gold and lavender freckle the skin like cow spots. You two share a kiss, paint mixing. You pull away before the paint on your feet starts to dry.

“Pretty as a picture.”

“Stop, that’s corny.”

“Shrimpy as a picture.”

“Whatever,” you say, both hands holding Floyd’s. The smile on his face should be hung up in a museum, you think fondly. A stepping-back lavender footprint finds the canvas first. Gently, you lower yourself with Floyd’s help. “Cold, cold, cold,” you whine when your butt hits the paper.

Your whines soon morph into laughter as Floyd falls right down on the canvas with you. Insatiable, he pulls you in for a deep liplock, the gold paint on yours and the lavender paint of his mixing into a brown-tinted mauve. You pull him closer by gripping on the gold paint remaining on his right asscheek.

Embraced by an artful kiss, you gasp when you feel the head of him between your folds. Mauve starts to tiptoe down your collarbone in little lip-shaped stamps. Paint makes a wet suctioning noise under you as your body makes a wet noise; painted with one load of cum already, your pussy follows along in the symphony.

“Oh fuck, Floyd,” you hiss between gritted teeth. He takes a mauve freckled hand and turns your face so he can return to his favorite spot to bite. He keeps himself laid between your folds and nothing more, teasing.

Already pulled along by second arousal, your eyelashes flutter. Across this ocean of plastic sheets you two are going to make love – because for some odd reason, Floyd of all people prefers calling it that (you argued “Aren’t I supposed to be the sentimental soul? The artiste?”) – lies a painting mostly made of gold.

You had painted the dorsal side of Floyd, gluteus down to calcaneus, a pretty gold. You have bounced until you had screamed yourself hoarse, the entire making love act becoming a permanent piece of art. “To commemorate moving in,” you had asked sly a day ago, showing him the package of body paint.

The canvas is pretty flat and even. Made of just plain paper, you are surprised it left such a good print. Floyd’s painting survived; yours? You have a feeling the one you lie on is going to be crinkled up like an accordion.

As Floyd returns the favor of hickeys, making a mirror copy of the art you left behind on him before, you say: “Di – ah! Did I tell you about these coins at the museum I’m working in?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“They’re called spintria coins. They’re pretty outstanding.”

“That so? Wanna get one for Azul?”

“Mmm, I don’t think he would appreciate it.” You gently reach down, searching for a penis.

When Floyd asks why so, teeth on your breast, you answer, “Spintria coins have normal numbers on one side.” You find what you are looking for and, carefully keeping your voice even, you push it in, “on the other side, there is an image of a sex position.”

The moan you get in response? Oh, you know you have no magic but if you could, you would capture that sound in a seashell necklace, replaying it forever and ever. The sound is even backdropped by the crinkle of paper, the claws by your shoulders ripping into the canvas.

“Oh OH!” Then Floyd breathes out your real name like it is fire in his throat.

You giggle under him, mauve lipstick shining. In a week, you will show him the spintria coin you got from the museum – they said you could have a token of gratitude for your work and you wanted a certain token – and he will laugh until his ribs hurt at a coin depicting fellatio. When Azul gets the coin in his birthday present, you both laugh until your ribs crumble under the shared weight of your mirth.

All those days used to be filled with so much laughter.

[jess-le-mess]

Feedist Kinktober 2024 - Day 4

Prompt: Hologram ✨

[Content notes: trans MtF supporting character; fat cis woman main character; mention of physical activity; f/f friendship]

Laser Cats

One thing I will never get tired of is kicking my best friend's skinny ass at her favorite game, Laser Cats, this dumbass rhythm game she found on some godforsaken Steam or Reddit forum or wherever she hangs out online.

I love her. Her bony arms flailing around helplessly like she's a Victorian maid trying to go down a stairs in a hurry. She's ethereal and beautiful, even if all her steps are off the mark by a beat or more.

Not me. I'm her opposite in pretty much every way. She's tall and lithe; I'm short and not at all lithe. But, unlike her, I can move. I don't play this game for hours like her, but it doesn't take me that long before I can slide and step and jump in time with the music.

Another song ends with her completely out of breath and me staring at another "SSS" ranking.

"Dana, love, your legs are longer than my whole body or whatever. How am I beating your ass this bad?" I gloat.

"Shut the hell up," she wheezes back ungracefully. "You just have a lower center of gravity or whatever. Basically cheating."

I bump my butt into her. "Nah, if anything I have a handicap. You weigh, like, one whole breath or whatever, while I am enburdened with all this sex appeal." I grab my belly for emphasis.

Dana huffs and goes to put on another song; sounds like one of those hyperactive J-Pop songs with the robot voice that Dana listens to even outside this game.

I look at the preview of the song, our little hologram avatars---mine a cute little cupcake with pink frosting and Dana's a tall pale lady in a red party dress---dancing to the beat, the readout that says "180BPM."

Dana looks at me with a wicked glint in her eye. "You think your pudgy little legs can keep up?" she taunts, poking me in the belly where my T-shirt had ridden up in the earlier dance battle.

I pull down my T-shirt and frown back. "You're on, you willowy little cryptid."

So it turns out 180BPM is, like, pretty freaking fast. Like, whoa, who would even have thought music could be like that?

I do my best to stay on beat, cursing Dana a little for picking this song. I know I'm missing some steps here and there, but I figure whatever. I can't let Dana beat me. My body feels heavier, slower than I'm used to and I'm suddenly aware of stuff wobbling around more, but I just play through it, ignore the heat I feel in my cheeks, the awareness of sweat pooling in various places. I just keep pushing through, doing my best until finally---

Oops, I thought the song ended after a long pause and haphazardly stomp out another three beats before finally it is over and my score is displayed: A nice, respectable, "C."

I then fall over onto Dana's couch, letting the exhaustion catch up to me.

"Okay, so that one was interesting," I pant.

"Mmm-hmm," my friend croaks from somewhere below me.

I'd had competitive tunnel vision this whole time and hadn't noticed Dana curled up on the floor in a near fetal position.

"Couldn't cut it, huh?" I laugh triumphantly, between breaths.

"Mmm-hmm," Dana moans back.

"Stupid game"; stupid little cupcake guy, the fucking audacity," I say, watching our little eternally dancing avatars taunting us and our weak human bodies.

"Mmm-hmm," my friend says back quietly from her half face-first position on the floor.

[smilesthroughfandoms]

A Bone to Pick (Chapter Preview)

Did you miss me? Admit it, you missed me! The chapter is well over halfway done, and I got some other stuff cooking, so probably at the end of September, everything will be out.

With Macaque doing most of the work, the two trudged out of the wire work, past the main hub, and past the chain link fence that surrounded the building. Once they were past the fence, Macaque set PB down, propping her into a sitting position against the fence before giving her another look over. 

“Eyes focused, good. Breathing, a little labored but steady, you know your name so we can rule out concussion. Mmm, you look a little pale. You sure you feel ok?”

“I’m fine, really.” PB assured him. “This just takes a lot out of me to do, lot of energy…”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Once or twice… Or maybe more, I don’t really know how often I did it.”

Macaque stared at her with wide eyes… before he started to laugh. He laughed and laughed so hard he fell back onto his rear, before looking at PB. “You’re nuts, Pops. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“A few times yeah,” PB smiled tiredly at him. “But when you say it, it sounds nice. Like your giving me a compliment.”

“Yeah, well… don’t go spreading that around, ok? I can’t let people know I care, I got a reputation to maintain here.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Macaque smiled, and then his ears twitched again. PB saw it, and the pensive look on his face. “What is it?”

“Lemme see your wrist real quick, ok?” PB complied, tiredly handing him one of her arms. Macaque pressed a couple fingers there and then waited, patiently listening. “Your pulse is insanely fast.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s all the extra electrical energy running through my body. It won’t kill me, but I’m gonna have a hard time falling asleep later.”

Macaque nodded along. Finding that, while rapid, her pulse was steady. She did say she’s done this before, Macaque thought. Probably better to just take her word for it. Worse case scenario, he knew there was at least one other hospital in this city she wasn’t banned from. 

The shadow monkey was about to let go when he noticed the scars on PB’s arms. Criss-crossing this way and that, covering just about every inch of skin that was visible. Macaque frowned, “This wasn’t from today, was it? I thought I saw these earlier in the cave.”

PB frowned, turning her head away. “You got me… Could you maybe not tell anyone else, though, please? I mean, MK, Mei, and Bai He know, but… but please don’t say anything. I… I don’t like thinking or talking about them if I don’t have too.”

“Ok, I won’t.” Macaque paused, not releasing her wrist. “… you want me to cover them up for you?”

“How… how could you do that?”

“With a glamor. I have a few different ones going right now. Heck, I usually don’t leave the house without at least three on. I’ve gotten pretty good at them over the years, so covering your arms and legs shouldn’t be difficult.”

“You would… you would do that for me?”

“Yeah, if you want me too.”

“… Why would you want to do that for me?”

Macaque stared at her incredulously. “Pops… you just turned yourself into solid gold to strangle and electrocute the man who has been tormenting us for the last twenty four hours, because he threatened the safety and well being of people you have known for maybe two days. Not to mention I really care about and don’t want at least two of those people to not get hurt. Putting a glamor on you so you can feel a little more comfortable in your own skin is the least I can do.”

PB stated at the mystic monkey as if she didn’t want to believe him. She shook her head, “I-I couldn’t possibly—”

“Let’s look at it this way,” Macaque held up a hand to shush her. “We’ll call it a favor returned.”

“Favor returned?”

“Yeah! You did me a favor by… getting rid of the fake mayor guy and protecting Bai He when I wasn’t around. So, me doing this is just me returning the favor. No debts to settle, no deals to make, nothing to worry about.”

Macaque watched as PB turned the words over in her head. Slowly, she began to smile, liking the idea. “How… how long does it last?”

“Either until you tell me to stop or something happens to me and I gotta recall my magic.” Macaque shrugged. 

“So, like when you fall asleep?”

“No, not even then. I keep all my glamours in my sleep. Easier that way.”

“O-ok then, let’s do it!”