#ok ok so i was really bored and just fucking around and i wandered far and got to a ravine

[dontlookforme00]

I just. Almost lost everything in a minecraft survival world and now I know truly what it means to have a near death experience

[ellaa-writes]

I should really be working on my other fic's but I just need to get this out of my head. Not proof read (when is anything)

Cw: dubcon/cnc. Drugs, smut, blood, death, and violence. 18+, MDNI

Another boring party, a gathering of people you didn't care much for. They are your boyfriends friends and associates, they scare you. Being around a bunch of drunk idiots, lines of coke and who knows what spread out on the coffee table.

You should have broken up with him a long time ago. But the sex was decent and he liked spending his money on you. Luxury vacations, a new car, a penthouse in the city and all the best designer clothes. You became complaint in this mess.

Stumbling away from the dwindling party goers, trying to get away from the noise and to find your boyfriend Sergi. You always hated this house, so isolated in the woods. Acres of nothing but wilderness surrounding you, mocking you. The hallways always a maze, trying to find the door to the bathroom.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, surrounded by marble, quartz and gold fixtures. Your eyeliner was smudged, lipstick long gone. You looked like you fell down a flight of stairs. Wiping away the mess and making yourself look less depressing. Fresh air, that's what you needed.

Walking back out, everything was eerily quieter than before. A few people still sprawled out on the white leather sofa, in different stages on undress. You avoided looking, not wanting to see what comes next. Wandering down another white empty hallway, following the sound of hushed voices. Finding your boyfriend, and two of his closest friends gathered around a desk. Talking about the next shipment and distribution. His eyes snapping to yours, a quick flick of something nafarious behind him before he smiled big, beckoning you inside.

"Come darling." he motioned for you to enter, you hesitated. "I'm going to go get some air." you mumbled, stumbling towards the back entrance that led to the pool and patio. Hearing your boyfriends footsteps catching up to you. His arms encasing you from behind, pulling you into his chest.

"You ok?" he asks, a small hint of genuine concern. "Yeah, yes. I- just needing air. That's all." you struggled to say. His lips peaking you in the side of your head as he let you go. Giving your ass a hard smack, a small yelp leaving your throat. "Don't be gone for too long." it was a warning, one you wont take lightly. Giving him a small smile as he walked back to the office.

Soon as you stepped into the crisp night air you sucked in a deep breath. Allowing it to fill your lungs and blowing it back out. Taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs, closing your eyes and indulging in the silence.

Glass, the sound of it shattering disturbing your small slice of peace.

"What the hell was that?" you asked yourself, sitting up in the lounger, side eyeing the house. That's when the screams started to come in. Turning your blood into ice, you shot up from your spot. Racing to the door your came from, and towards the office. The door was closed and locked, you started to bang on it before hearing gun fire coming from the common area.

Your heart was racing, what the hell was going on. Before you could gather yourself one of your boyfriends came running around the corner. His clothes covered in blood, his eyes locked on you as he ran up. Taking a hold of you as he continued to run back down the hallway towards the back entrance.

"We gotta get the fuck out of here." he was yelling right into your ear but he sounded so far away. Your mind was locking up, struggling to understand how dire your situation has become.

"What-.. What the fuck is going on?" you asked the man, trying to remember his make. Leo, it has to be. "It's a fucking sting, we need to get far away." he dragged you down the stone steps leading towards the front of the house. Coming to a stop, armoured vechiles were blocking the driveway.

"Fuck." he whispered, looking around for another option. "Where's Sergi?" you asked Leo, your boyfriend where the hell is he?

"Hiding that mother fucker." Leo hissed quietly. He finally looked at you, his head tilted has he looked you up and down. Suddenly becoming very self conscious of your barely there dress. You yanked you hand from his grip, taking a few steps back. His face twisting into anger.

"Where the fuck you think your going." he hissed, stomping towards you. You bolted, running back into the house. Turning the corner and being met with a blood bath, three bodies filled with bullet holes and oozing blood. You had to shut your eyes to stop the vomit from rising. "You stupid fucking bitch." Leo roared from behind you, you ran past the living room and to the stairs. Taking two at a time as you climbed them, Leo's heavier footsteps not far behind.

Taking sharp turns down the maze of endless white hall ways, opening the master bedroom and slamming it closed behind you. Using you body as weight while trying to secure the lock, Leo throwing his into the door. Screaming and cursing from behind the secure door, you began stepping back from the door. Watching as it shook from his impact, a loud shot ringing out. You barely missed the bullet as it prentrated through the door. A thump followed by blood seeped from under, you found yourself gasps for air. Running to the attached bathroom just in time to empty your stomach into the bathtub, crumpling to the floor. You couldn't stop the trembling as it wrecked your body. The hicupping and head pounding, everything was too much.

You were too busy spiraling too notice and a shadow emerge from the closet, closing in on your fast. The butt of a rifle connection to the back of your head, sending you into the abyss.

You woke sometime later, face down and drooling. Your hands were tied at your back, your ankles fastened together. You could hear your name being called as you came in and out of consciousness. Finally getting you eyes to focus on the to your left, Sergi, his face was beaten and bloody. But he was alive, your tried to reach out to him but couldn't. "Shh, shh, it's ok." he whispered out. "What the fuck." you croaked back. "Quiet, they are close." he hissed to you. Turning silent as the masked assailants entered what you assumed was the dining room. Sergi turned from you, eyes straight ahead as blood soaked boots came to stop in front of him.

"Up!" a thick German voice yelled, you and Sergi were yanked up into your knees. You eyes followed the boots all the way up passed two massive thighs followed by a wide torso and shoulders. A hooded head rested upon them, it's stormy blue eyes piercing down at you. You couldn't help the gaps that left your mouth, it was followed by a laugh from the giant. His eyes trailing up and down your body, you could feel a breeze brush past your ass, looking down to find the bottom of your dress pushed up to your waist, exposed to the prying eyes of the people around you.

The giant tore his eyes from you and focused them on your boyfriend Sergi. "Tell where the coordinates and I'll let her live." you turned to Sergi, watching as the command bounced around his head. He didn't look at you, didn't even acknowledge you were there. Instead he spit at the man in front, cursing him to hell. The man who your assumed was the leader stuck out his leg, connecting his boot with Sergi's jaw. His head snapping back as blood splattered across your face.

You jumped back from the impact, the trembling starting up again. You tried not to panic, but you could feel your lungs locking up, refusing to cooperate. Bile rose in your throat, burning a path up and out. Releasing it all to the right of you, doubling over in pain. All you could hear is your own vomiting and laughter.

"I'll let you watch as I take my time with her." the words weren't directed at you but to the bleeding man howling in pain next to you. The German was knelt down in front of your boyfriend, holding his head by the hair. "Don't worry, I'll put you out before we finish her." the English was broken but you got the message. Your body was racked by sobs and pleas, you didn't know what you were saying. You couldn't look at Sergi's face, knowing he never truly cared about you beyond your body and face.

"Shhhhhh." the giant was now on you, grabbing your chin in his grip and facing you towards him. The hood over his face making him look much more menacing. "We'll have our fun." he taunted as he dragged his knife down the side of your face towards your chest. You could feel the blade slide across your chest, and down the center of your breasts as it tore open your dress.

The hooded monster removed the blade and tucked it into his belt. Grabbing you by the throat as he easily maneuvered you to the dining table, tossing you belly first onto the wood. Taking a hold of your bound arms, you felt the restraints around your ankles come undone, the thick thighs of your captors edging itself between your thighs. You felt his gloved hands grip the flesh of your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and finishing with a hard slap.

"You better be watching. Won't recognize this oreety face when I'm done." he was taunting your boyfriend. Grinding his hips into your ass, pushing his hard bulging crotch into you. Making you squirm and gasp, closing you eyes hard. Trying to make everything stop and disappear. "What a hot body." the giant said all to quietly as he ripped the dress from your body. Tossing the shredded material to the side, leaving you in only your risqué panties. You could hear him hmm in approval behind you, his hands running up and down your back as the dug into your hips, gripping your panties as he slid them down your legs.

"I'll tell you!" Sergi's voice screamed from behind, making the German stop in his tracks. "So now you play." the giant teased once again grabbing your ass cheeks and spreading them. You could feel the cool air kiss your lips as he spread you open, you tried clenching you thighs but was stopped by a hard stinging slap to your ass. And suddenly the instrusion was gone, leaving you bare, cold and vulnerable bent over the table.

"I'm waiting." the heavy accent barked, making you flinch, you didn't dare to move. You could hear Sergi mumble some numbers off before the room became overwhelmingly silent. "See, that wasn't hard." the German mocked. His hard body once again pressed against your, grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking you around so you faced your boyfriend. Another masked figure stood behind him, gun to his head. You clamped your eyes closed just in time as the gun went off and your boyfriends brains hit you.

A violent so left your body as you heard his hit the floor. A slap echoed across your face, "What a shame." the massive German said from beside you, "It was a beautiful site. But not beautiful like you." he sneered. Realization sunk into your belly, this giant was gonna rape you and probably kill you now. He shoved your body forward and towards the living room. Pushing you belly first onto the bloodied sofa, only stopped to kick a body onto the ground.

"Clean up!"he commanded, footsteps retreating, leaving you alone with him." I'll make you enjoy." he whispered behind you, the sound of a belt being undone followed by a zipper. " Please, please!" you sobbed, trying to lossen his grip on the back of your neck that pinned you in place. "Don't worry, you'll be begging on my cock soon." you felt some hot and big press against you entrance. Stretching you out painfully, feeling your pussy tighten even more. You began thrashing even harder now, trying your best to resist.

A warm tongue licked you ear and cheek, "take it" he said, pulling back and spitting at your conjoined bodies. Moving his hips in and out as the wetness began coating you. After a moment his hips snpped forward, knocking the air from your lungs. Your mouth agape in a silent scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He used your bound hands and neck as leverage as he pounder into you. All you could do was take it, whimpering and crying now and then.

He left you go, dropping face first into the stained leather, a rough gloved hand pushing into way to your pussy, finding you clit and grinding against it harshly. Making you grit through your teeth, the pressure residing as he lazily circled your now throbbing clit. You tried to fight the building sensation making its way to your core. You tried thinking of your dead boyfriend in the next room but nothing could stop the violent orgasm that ripped through your body. Making your choke on your spit as it drooled out of your mouth.

Your pussy clenched tightly around him, making his movements flatter as he chased his own high. Burying the head of his cock roughly against your sore crevix, releasing deep into you. His own loud moans finally quieting has his hips ceased to move. You could feel him catching his breath, the orgasm knocking the wind out of him. Seconds later his cock left your aching pussy, stuffing himself back into his pants.

He left you there as he grabbed a discarded throw blanket from a chair in the room. Pulling you up gently and wrapping it around your spent body. "Now that wasn't bad." he cooed, rubbing a hand up and down your hair. "Went just as planned didn't it?" he was fishing for a compliment that you gladly gave him. "Of course my King." your mouthed over his lips obscured by the hood.

[metalomagnetic]

Snippet for It runs in the blood.

***ok, so the chapter is almost done; I just need to edit it now, and cut some scenes or arrange them around. This scene might get cut, so I decided I might as well post it here. If all goes well, we'll have the new chapter by the end of the week.***

-

“Are you afraid of me, Sirius?” 

They are in bed, Sirius regaining his breath, on top of Voldemort, his forearms supporting his weight, on either side of Voldemort’s head. 

It’s a very weird time to ask such a question, right after Sirius came. He’s still inside Voldemort. 

“Is this what you think of while I fuck you?” Sirius demands, looking down into those focused, sharp eyes. 

Should have let him fuck me instead; or sucked him off. Sirius is sure Voldemort’s mind doesn’t wander on those occasions, as it apparently does when Sirius fucks him. 

“Answer me.” Voldemort’s voice is soft, his gaze curious and intense, impossible to hide from. 

It makes Sirius wonder why he even needs to ask, when it always feels as if Voldemort can see straight into his soul. 

He tries to climb off Voldemort, but one of those deceptively thin arms coils around Sirius’ back and traps him in place, oh so easily. 

“No,” Sirius says. “Not really,” he rectifies. 

One of Voldemort’s eyebrows lifts, questioningly. “Not really,” he repeats. He sounds displeased. 

A cynical part of Sirius almost wants to ask if he’s displeased Sirius doesn’t fully fear Voldemort. 

But he knows it’s the other way around. Voldemort doesn’t want Sirius to fear him at all. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Sirius clarifies. “But I am aware of…hmm.” Sirius moves one of his arms, his finger smoothing over the frown that appeared between Voldemort’s eyebrows. “Of how powerful you are,” Sirius goes on. “Far more powerful than I am.” 

Voldemort frowns harder. 

Sirius tries to move again, and this time he’s allowed. He lies beside Voldemort, but soon, Voldemort shifts, and now he’s glaring down at Sirius. “One only needs to worry about enemies being more powerful. I am not your enemy.” 

“I know. I’m not worried,” Sirius says. “Just- aware. I- well, you wouldn’t understand, would you?” 

Voldemort hasn’t met, and never will meet, someone as powerful as he is, let alone someone more powerful. 

When he was a child, Dumbledore; but, as he pointed out, Dumbledore was an enemy, in Tom Riddle’s mind, branded as such from a very early age. 

He wouldn’t know how it feels to fall in love with someone so out of his league, someone that could destroy him in a second. Someone that sleeps besides him, cooks for him, but, if it came down to it, someone that could easily annihilate him, on a whim. 

Sirius smiles up at him. “It feels dangerous,” he explains. “But that’s not really fear, and I like danger. Living on the edge, and all that. If you weren’t this ridiculously overpowered, I probably wouldn’t like you so much.” 

'Like' is a massive understatement. Sirius loves him, he’s obsessed with Voldemort to a terrifying degree. There lies the problem. “It’s more - I fear that I will disappoint you,” Sirius confesses. Fucking Voldemort. He knows me too well. He knows Sirius is more open after he comes, more willing to voice things he would struggle with at any other moment. “That one day-"

You’ll grow bored of me. I’ll stop being this new shiny toy. 

Though, truly, it’s been a while. They’ve met two years before. They’ve been fucking for around a year now. Sirius has practically moved in with him for a couple of months. And Voldemort doesn’t show signs he’s bored or disillusioned with Sirius so far. 

“Anyway,” he says, trying to end this subject. “I’m doing my best to catch up to you,” he jokes. 

There’s no catching up with Voldemort. Sure, Sirius is growing stronger every day, seems like it. He feels he left his peers in the dust, behind him. He feels he could destroy most Death Eaters in a one-on-one duel; most Aurors, too. 

He feels it’s possible one day, into a not so very distant future, that Sirius will become one of the most powerful wizards in Britain- perhaps even Europe, if he works hard enough. 

It’s not farfetched. Power is in his bloodline, it’s his birthright, and Voldemort’s tutelage only pushes Sirius further on this path of power. 

But he’ll never catch up to Voldemort. Not even close. No matter how many books he will read, what he will learn, how much he practices -it’s simply impossible. 

Men like Voldemort, men like Dumbledore or Merlin, are anomalies, aberrations of magic- their power is not a tangible goal. 

Rarities, exceptions. Truly, it’s a wonder they got Voldemort and Dumbledore in the same century. One of these freaks of magic usually comes around every other century or so. 

And we got two, in Britain, at once. How lucky. This island is truly cursed. 

Or blessed. 

Depends how one looks at it. 

“At least I scare you productively.” Voldemort still sounds displeased, though less so than a minute ago. 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I’m not scared,” he insists, and he pushes Voldemort off him, with enough force to make him retreat. “Why don’t you make me something to eat,” he barks, to show he really isn’t afraid of Voldemort. “I’m starving.” 

The fact that he doesn’t get murdered or at least tortured on the spot, the fact that Voldemort actually gets up and heads to the kitchen, proves to Sirius he really doesn’t have much reason to fear him. 

[justawhimm]

you’re real

fandom: cyb//erp//unk 2077 summary: it's the first time he's really been alone with derry since she's been born. being the extrovert he is, though, he's losing his mind a little with the lack of people around to talk to. at least derry's a pretty good listener. this series explores the births of his four children and some moments of his parenting style toward each of them.

chapters: 2/8

content warnings: mention of alcohol use, mention of initial resentment toward an unborn children, mention familial issues

notes: Just a reminder that Derry isn't my creation! She's from the Cyb/erpu/nk TTRPG sourcebook known as Cyb//erGen//erat//ions, but has since been deemed noncanon. But! I liked the idea of her, so I'm writing about her.

Current Year: Early 2007 Kerry's Age: 19

cross posted on ao3

Being forced into a vacation wasn't necessarily how he was expecting the end of the tour to look like. … Ok, that sounded stupid as soon as he thought it out completely. Of course he would've had to have a break, regardless of whether he was still pregnant by the end of tour or not. Kinda inevitable and all of that. The part Kerry really hated and didn't expect to be an issue was the fact that he had to miss Nancy's wedding because he was fresh off giving birth and the idea of taking the baby on a plane sounded like a special kind of torture.

Nancy assured him it was fine. There wasn't much they could do about it. She insisted someone would record the ceremony, so he'd be able to watch it all with the rest of the band once everyone got back.

So, that left him. Alone. With his new daughter.

Derry Eur/ody/ne's birth had been all over the screamsheets for a while, unsurprisingly. What did surprise him was the fact that he'd actually decided to keep her. How? Well… fuck, he still wasn't totally sure yet. Just about a month postpartum, he was still struggling to figure out the details. There was a lot to think about. But honestly, he couldn't stand the idea of giving her to anyone else anymore. She was his. His tiny, insufferable virus. 

That sentiment had changed a lot over the weeks, though. He thought he was going to hate her from the moment he set eyes on her, but that was far from the truth of the matter. No, no… fuck, it really wasn't difficult to realize within just a few hours that he adored her. And much to the dismay of Johnny, he actually liked her name, too. 

What was so bad about it, after all? Sure, it was unconventional, but he thought it fit her pretty damn well. If she hated it, then whatever. She could change it when she got older. He didn't give a fuck. It was her life.

Back to the matter at hand.

For the first time since the day she was born, Kerry was alone with his daughter.

His bandmates and best friends were gone, off at the wedding. Probably getting drunk. God, he wished that was him. Kerry didn't really have contact with his parents anymore. Yeah, that was… mostly on him (Long story. He wouldn't dwell on it in his mind for long). That left him without anyone to rely on but himself.

It wasn't really like he was swimming in eddies, either. So hiring a nanny or something just wasn't an option. Hell, even getting any help from Johnny when he was home was almost impossible to attain. His kid, his problem, apparently. Guess he got that, yeah, but fuck. He would've hoped that maybe Johnny would have a single compassionate bone in his whole damn body.  Sometimes that was just asking way too much out of him.

Derry's little gurgles pulled Kerry out from letting his mind wander. Brown eyes trailed down to look at the baby girl on his chest, smiling at her slightly. That was one thing that kept him from getting too pissy with the idea of being a dad: the fact that she was so fuckin' cute.

"You sure sound like you're havin' a hell of a time," He remarked, pecking the top of her head. "Bet you're about as bored as I am, lil' Derry-Berry. All you've got ta do is eat, sleep, and shit. Can't even play with the toys your Aunt Denny got ya yet. Poor baby. Just… stuck with your dear ol' dad." Kerry sighed. He was beginning to feel ridiculous, talking to her like this. What was the point? Or maybe he was just so lonely and bored that he didn't give much of a shit.

"Ain't it pathetic, kid?" Kerry adjusted how he sat, his hold on her. He held her in a way where she was practically sitting at the end of his torso, his hands keeping her up and his fingers supporting her neck and head. It was hard not to smile at her, seeing her peer at him with those big eyes. "Dad's just… talkin' to you, but you don't really talk back. And I never really know what the fuck I'm doin'. Not like that's too much of a surprise, though. Don't think I ever know what I'm doin' in life. Your lolo and lola would probably already hate how I'm raisin' you, but… I'm doing my best."

Derry blinked at him, making a little "o" briefly with her mouth. She was so fuckin' cute, Kerry could hardly stand it. Bringing her closer, he'd press his lips to her cheek to make it squish against her face slightly. With that, he'd adjust how he held her again. He would let her lie back down in his arms, sitting himself up properly so he could look down at her.

"I don't think I'll do too bad… Doubt I'd be the worst dad in the world. Not by a long shot. I don't know who you're gonna be yet, but hopefully I'll instill a little bit of patience in that cute baby face of yours! 'Cause trust me, you'll need it when it comes to me. I'll get it eventually. You just might need to sit my ass down and tell me how it is sometimes. Yeah. Yeah… Just have some faith in me, Derry. I know I was a piece of shit while you were doing all your growing shit, but I wanna do right by you. I might still act like an asshole sometimes, but I promise I love you."

But that wasn't enough, and Kerry knew that. As much as he knew his parents loved him, they didn't give a shit about what he wanted. It was out of caring, out of love, but it'd caused more damage than anything else. Kerry never wanted that with Derry.

"I wanna listen to you. I want you to love me, too."

[ghoulfriendfangs]

The Cuckening

I actually wrote this fic a while ago, for the Midsummer Masquerade! I was a little embarrassed to share it because it’s a very self indulgent, gross fic about my own oc, but like, fuck it you know?

For context: my oc Delphi had a relationship with Lucio before the events of the game, but it fell apart. This is an au set in this time.

{wc: ~3500} {dom!top!reader / bottom!sub!Delphi / bottom!sub!Lucio / reader x oc x canon / reader x Delphi x Lucio / cucking / anal / Delphi being a whore / bdsm / exhibitionism / there’s a lot going on in here ok / enjoy!}

You didn’t expect to make it into the Midsummer Masquerade. Unlike the January event, this one was not open to the public, but there were still many ways of getting in even if you didn’t make the vip list. You could write a letter asking for an invite, and hope to persuade the count. You could search the black market for a bootleg invitation. You could even show up uninvited and hope someone sees you and decides to make you their +1.

The hoops you had to jump through to get in mattered no longer. You were here now, and you were going to find something- or someone, fun to do.

You wandered through the ballroom, sticking towards the wall. You didn’t want to seem shy, but it was hard to penetrate through the crowds on the dance floor. Best to find a dance partner first.

But to your surprise, one found you first.

A hand grasped yours, and you turned to see an ornately dressed stranger. Their mask was that of a garden of flowers, in the approximate shape of a butterfly. It was made of porcelain, jewels, and even embedded gold. Their navy blue hair was pulled into a low ponytail, decorated with ribbons. They had a golden collar around their neck. Below that, their outfit was far less detailed, a silky red outfit that was draped over their body, dangerously loose, only connected by golden chains.

“You’re far too stunning to have come here alone. Tell me I’m dreaming.”

You snort, and you see a mortified look cross their scarlet eyes.

“That’s your best line?”

“I-I have more, that one was bad, let me think of-“

“I’ve heard actions speak louder than words.”

They grin, and pull you onto the dance floor. They reach for your hip, but before they can make it, you’ve placed your hands firmly on their exposed hips, through the slits in their cloth that leave their thighs exposed.

You hear their breath hitch.

You take the lead, keeping a firm grip on them as you dance. They put their arms on your shoulders, staring at you. It looks…

“You seem familiar, have we met before?”

They grin.

“These masks work wonders, don’t they? I’m sure you’ve seen me. I am the one and only Delphi Knox Gemütlich, I’m the best magician in Vesuvia. Perhaps you’ve heard of my potions? My prophecies? My family?”

“Oh, you’re the court magician.”

They simmer at that, rolling their eyes. “It’s just an, erm, just a gig. Really just doing it for my resume. Pay’s pretty great too, and I get to attend classy parties like this.”

“You’re the personal magician for the count, aren’t you? Isn’t it interesting, being so close to the count?”

“The count’s boring,” they yawn. You laugh.

“Really?”

“I’d rather hear what you think of him.”

You hum, considering your thoughts. To any other member of Vesuvian government, you’d sugarcoat your true feelings. But you felt you could be honest with Delphi.

“The count is… very handsome. I can see why so many attend this masquerade. But I don’t think he has much sense, I’m honestly… surprised he’s in charge.”

Delphi snorted with laughter, throwing their head back. “Oh man, you’re spot on. Are you sure you haven’t met him?”

“No. But I’d like to. At least, I thought I would. But now…”

You trace a hand absently over their lean stomach, and it seems to short circuit their brain. They shiver, biting their lip.

“Maybe I’ll pick you instead.”

They look excited, but also nervous.

“…what if you could have both?”

“You and the count?”

“I-I came down here to look for someone. Someone I found… exceedingly attractive, who could… satisfy me.”

“Is that so, little magician?”

The “little” in that name sends a shiver through their body, and it makes them clench their teeth. It’s an insult, they aren’t little. So why are they firming up between their thighs?

“It’s a bit out there, you’re welcome to deny, but… I want you to fuck me in front of the count.”

~~~

You didn’t expect to make it into the count’s bedroom so soon after entering the masquerade, or at all really, but here you were. Standing, as he looked you up and down as if evaluating you. He lingers on your hair, your chest, even shamelessly drifting his gaze to your crotch.

Then, when he glances at his own reflection in the mirror, you realize why. He’s jealous.

Why does the thought excite you? Is it because he’s the leader of this land, holding neigh infinite power… and yet you sexually intimidated him?

“So you’re the one Fifi picked out?”

“I mean, obviously.”

“…they made a good choice.”

“Fifi” was humming from the hallway, preparing a contraceptive spell while you and Lucio “got comfortable with each other.”

You relaxed on his bed. He shifted from side to side.

“I mean, you’re into this too, right?” You asked. Regardless of your opinion on the count, you weren’t about to fuck his partner on his own bed unless he was into that.

“You’d ask your count such a silly question?” He growled, as if trying to intimidate you. To see if your resolve could be easily shaken.

“Of COURSE I’m into it. I just… I don't really want just anybody railing my Fifi. I only want someone *almost* as good as me doin’ it.”

Maybe it’s the lightheaded and surreal atmosphere of the festival. Maybe it’s the fact you have an opportunity to emberass him. Maybe it’s the blood rushing to your dick and abandoning your brain.

“And what if I’m better than you?”

…oh shit.

…you’ve just insulted the count in his own bedroom.

He scowls at you, running through his hair with his deadly sharp claws.

“Has it crossed your mind that I am the count of this palace, that if I so wanted I could have you executed for disrespecting the throne?”

You had to think of something quick.

“I don’t think you’ll do that.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because…” you looked up and down his body, and found your answer.

“Because you have an erection.”

He frantically turned his cape to cover it.

“That is- that has nothing to do with anything! N-now you listen here you little-“

“Lucio! Are you playing nice?” Delphi hissed, closing the door behind them. Lucio jumped, “I-I am! I’m being very patient!”

“He threatened to have me executed.”

“I-I didn’t! I was just stating the fact that I could-“

Delphi wound their hand back and smacked his ass, causing him to make the most vulgar, offended expression.

“Behave, like you promised you would.”

Lucio crosses the room, flopping into the ornate and plush chair below his self portrait. Without asking for permission, he undoes his buckle, allowing his cock to bob out. You smugly point at it, and he looks like he might leap out at you before thinking better of it.

Delphi lies on the bed, spreading out for you in a seductive pose.

“Y’know, you’re welcome to do anything you like to me. I can take it.”

They emphasize the point by lifting their skirt and spreading their legs. Their holes are currently occupied by a plug in each, golden and with a red gem embedded in the base. Their t-dick is throbbing and wet, pushed up against the plug and practically begging for attention.

“Anything I’d like?”

They nod, looking at you with a desperate sort of impatience.

You glance at Lucio, who is seething.

“…do you have a preference where I fuck them?”

Delphi looks at you curiously, wondering where you’re going with this. Lucio opens his mouth to speak, but…

“I don’t really care what you think, actually.”

You grasp the plug in their pussy, firmly pulling it out. They let out a moan, but disappointingly they cover their mouth to suppress it. You’ll have to fix that.

You don’t really need foreplay. Delphi is dripping wet, and has lubed up on top of that. They’re already open from the wide toy. But it’s essential you do foreplay anyway, because it will tease them.

You start at their nipples, teasing them and pinching them. They squirm a bit, at one point trying to grind against your knee before you move it to tease them.

Without slowing, you glance back at Lucio, to see he’s squeezing his own nipples through his unbuttoned top, one at a time. He suspiciously stops just as you glance over. Looking at Delphi instead of meeting your gaze.

Delphi puts their hands on yours, trying to guide you towards their cock. You pull back entirely.

“Patience. You said I can do anything I want. I want to tease you first.”

They whine, “I’ve been waiting all night…”

“You can wait longer. Be good for me or I’ll smack you.”

That catches their attention, and they bite their lip.

“You wouldn’t smack the court magician in front of the-“

You cut them off with a smack to their arse. You hold back since it’s just the beginning, but not so much they don’t feel a sting.

“A-ah!l they jump.

“Too much?”

“I can take much more than that.”

You smile, returning to their red nipples. “He doesn’t train you, does he?“

They shake their head, watching your fingers at work.

“I can tell, you’re sorely in need of discipline.”

You glance back at the count, who this time doesn’t shy away. His gaze is stuck on you, and the red mark on their cheek. Fury, anger, and intrigue. He enjoyed seeing that, didn’t he?

“Is there anywhere you wouldn’t like to be punished?” You ask in a softer tone. “Don’t be shy, I don’t wanna hurt you too badly.”

They think about it a moment, but shake their head. “I like it,” they say confidently. “So do anywhere you like. Mark me up.”

Lucio says something under his breath, but you think you catch the word “harlot,” and Delphi shoots him a sleazy grin. “Make ‘em nice and visible, too.”

You push their head down so they’re on the bed, and order them to stay there. You trace a finger down their chest, their stomach, and to their pubic hair.

…then you finally start to stroke at their cock.

“Fuck, finally…” they mumble, closing their eyes.

“Eyes on me.”

They obey, licking their lips.

“…like what you see?”

“Hmm?” You play dumb.

“Y-you know… my… you know.”

“I don’t know.”

“My… cock and my…”

“This?” You start to finger them in tandem.

“Shit, fuck, yes. M-my whole body. A-am I hot enough?”

“Hmm…” you wager that they like being embarrassed, judging by this… entire situation, as well as their request to be marked, and reaction to being essentially called provacotive.

“Not sure yet. I’ll have to fuck you to get a good taste for you.”

“What!?” They sit up with a blush… but reward you with a twitch.

And you punish them with a hard smack to their cock.

“AH!” They quickly lie back down, but the feeling replays in their mind, the sting of your hand still on their pussy.

Now how can I get them to do that to me again?

“They liked that,” the count interrupts, almost in a surprised tone. “Didn’t know that…”

You nearly laugh. “You don’t know their kinks? No wonder you called me.”

“N-no, they didn’t know either, right Fi?”

They respond with a casual shrug.

“…do that again,” the count requests.

“Why? They’ve been good.” You continue to reward them by adding a third finger.

“Then, erm, Fi! Sit up again!”

“You’re not in charge right now, Louie.”

…

“I’ll do it again if you take off that top,” you offer.

“Wh-… why you… n-nobody talks to me that way,” he growls, while taking off his shirt.

You smack their crotch even harder, causing them to yelp and grab the sheets.

“Still like it?”

You nod.

“Good little… harlot,” you try your best not to laugh and to sound sexy while calling them that.

“Mmmnghhh…” they whimper. Guess it worked. You disrobe, their hungry eyes never leaving your body.

In fact, all eyes are on you as you pull out your cock, stroking it slowly as you crawl over Delphi.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I said anything, didn’t I?”

“Hey, wait I said you could fuck them, I didn’t say anything about kissing!!”

You ignore the count’s continued whining and wailing, kissing Delphi deeply as you slip your cock into them. They moan through your lips, wrapping their arms and legs around you. They were surprisingly intimate, clinging onto you like you were their air.

They were so warm, and so inviting. Every time you thrusted into them, they held you a little closer. Every time you moved your cock, you could feel the plug in their ass bulging against you, rubbing your cock tenderly.

You started to pick up the pace of your-

“A-ahh, fuck! Fuuck!”

They clenched around you, cumming already, grinding against your body. You leaned back to watch their cock twitch, seed spilling out and making a mess of their own pussy.

“Already?” You and Lucio both ask at the same time.

“Fifi, you gotta be kidding me,” Lucio teases.

They blush bright red, “I-It’s not my fault! It’s, it’s *yours!*” they say, turning to you, “I was all ready to go and you teased me a-anyway!”

This time, you decide to be a little meaner, and smack them on their face.

“Don’t complain so much.”

Their eyes are wide, they touch their cheek where you slapped them…

And they’re throbbing around your cock.

“Y-yes… m’bad.”

You start moving again, rewarding them by affectionately stroking their face.

“Now then, why’d you cum early?”

They bite their lip. “Cause you’re so hot.”

“Yeah, I bet he doesn’t fuck you enough, does he.”

They shake their head. “No, not nearly.”

“Mmm, poor little baby.”

They moan as you call them that, then have the audacity to claim, “I-I’m not… nnngh…”

“Poor little magician, doesn’t get played with enough… don’t worry, I’ll fix that. You’ll cum until you lose count tonight.”

“Mmmngh, yes please… m-make me…”

The room is filled with the sounds of you fucking into the court magician, the wet and rythmic percussion serving as background for their helpless little moans… punctuated by the Count’s jewelry clattering as he furiously pumps his own cock, watching you with the most hateful glare he could possibly manage.

You move to lie on top of them, pinning them to the bed. “Mmm… you certainly are hot. Nice and tight, such a good little pet.”

They shiver, enjoying your warmth. You move to their neck, harshly sucking at the skin of their throat, their collarbones, anywhere where you can leave evidence of your presence.

“Y-your cock,” they mewl.

You slow down a bit. “Speak up, baby.”

“Your cock is… s-so much bigger,” they whimper.

“Than his?”

Lucio mutters at you under his breath, and picks up the pace of his hand.

“U-uh-huh, so d-deep, hitting all the right spo- Ah! Right there! But even deeper! G-go harder!”

“Oh, poor little magician… he doesn’t fuck you this deep, does he?”

They shake their head, tears at the edges of their eyes, a deep and satisfied grin on their face. “N-no, ohh gods, y-you’re so good…”

You glance back at the count.

In the portrait behind him, he’s cool and reserved, calm and imposing. He’s dominating an entire battlefield, and yet frozen in etetheral beauty, face unblemished.

The real count’s face is contorted by strong emotions, lust and envy bringing a red stain to his face. His hair is disheveled and sweat sticks it to his forehead, his teeth are bared and he pants like the animal he is.

He’s close.

Delphi is close.

You’re close.

“Both of you,” you order, “I want you to cum with me.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Lucio hisses.

“I know. But you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”

“…” Lucio starts to pump his cock faster.

“Good boy.“

He shivers, covering his red cheeks.

You pick up the pace too, Delphi mumbling in a language you don’t recognize. Until that becomes too much for them too, and they devolve into vulgarly demanding you “pump their cunt full of cum,” among other extremely dirty demands.

You sit back, pulling them into your lap.

“Ah, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, fuck!! Oh gods!! Yes!!!”

They seize up, their thighs trembling as they cum hard onto you, *squirting* onto your lap. They completely coat the sheets, mumbling to you as they come undone.

You glanced at the count, a line of semen dribbling from the tip of his cock, down each finger, and dripping on his expensive rug. Perfect, now it’ll match his sheets.

As Delphi is coming down from their own orgasm, you reach yourself. They gasp a bit gently as you fill them with your own seed, the warmth flooding their insides. You pull back… and they spread so it can dribble out of them.

They grin.

“Make him lick it up.”

Lucio looks at you… and it takes you a moment to realize. He’s waiting for *your* permission to eat out his Delphi.

“What are you waiting for?”

He kneels at the foot of the bed, and Delphi wiggles to him.

“You clean up, too,” you tell Delphi, pulling their hair. They immediately take you in their mouth, humming. They can be so good- when they want to be.

The three of you spend some time like this, moving at a slow pace so you and Delphi can recover. Finally, you pull them off, and they make a disappointed whimper.

Lucio stands, stroking his cock and reaching for his magician.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a sadistic little purr.

“I-I thought it was my turn next.”

“Turn? Who said you get a turn?” You laugh.

“Besides,“ Delphi shrugs, “bit of a let down after getting railed like that, isn’t it? I mean… what if you can’t satisfy me anymore, Louie?”

“I-I can! Fi, you said I was good!!”

“C’mon, we’re just teasing you.”

“O-oh…”

“Chin up, your highness.”

You grab Delphi’s plug, offering it to him. “If you can fit this, maybe I’ll fuck you next.”

His eyes widen, face turning red. He snatches it with his claw.

“You… you better not go back on this. And you better be as good as Fifi claims.”

He lies by the pillows, getting a more up-close view. You roll Delphi over (they pretend to wrestle you before giving in), and grab the plug in their ass.

Even before you pull, their eyes go big. They bite their lower lip.

“You look nervous. Have you done anal before?”

“I… I have. I’ve used lots of toys.”

“But not a real cock, huh?”

They shake their head. “You’ll be my first. I’m yours.”

“Mine? You say that like I’ll *own* you.”

They nod a bit, egging on more dirty talk as you start to remove the plug.

“Your ass is gonna be mine. I’ll be the first one to fuck you there. I’m gonna *claim* you, is that ok?”

“Y-yeah, I want, I want you to be my first!”

Lucio grits his teeth, digging his claws into a pillow so harshly it rips.

“Too late, milord. S’not my fault your partner’s still a virgin.”

“You… you’re lucky you make me so horny, or I’d have you hung at the gallows.”

“Oh Lucio… I make you horny?”

You gently push into Delphi, not wanting to hurt them their first time. And yet, the moan they practically yell out is *delicious.* Maybe it’s how overstimulated they are, maybe it’s how much warmer your cock is than the toys they use, or maybe it’s *you.*

They’re tight, so tight you’re not sure you could fit all the way in at first. But with time and perseverance, you manage to open them up to relax a bit more at a time, until-

“FUCK!!!”

They jump as you hit their prostate. At the same time, the count *whimpers* as he managed to fully insert the plug.

Looks like you’ve a long night planned.

…

Your two very satisfied subs are snuggled up to you, both leaving kisses wherever they can.

The count is unusually affectionate for someone who was threatening you earlier, but you suppose being fucked until one cried from overstimulation does that to a person.

And sweet Delphi, whose practically numb below the waist, is leaning into your hand as you massage their scalp. Honestly, you can’t believe how many rounds they lasted.

“H-hey, we uh…” the count clears his throat, the taste of you still coating his tongue. “We were wondering, you’re here for the whole masquerade right?”

“Can you come back tomorrow? And after that?” Delphi blurts out.

“You don’t even gotta stop after the masquerade… you can come anytime…”

“Hmm,” you ponder. The two of them give you the most longing puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t see why not.”

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

[clover-the-awesomest]

ok I wanna talk about Wander and Dominator's dynamic again because holy fuck is it amazing

Uh. Disclaimer cuz idk how long this will be I'm literally just spitballing here.

So! To start off, we obviously need to look back at basically the first episode of season 2. Wander can clearly see Dominator is actively harming the planet that she is very obviously trying to destroy, but based on the guy's track record so far, he chooses to still give her a chance. After all, an enemy is just a friend you haven't met yet! So when Wander starts claiming the giant spiraling drill making a huge af hole in the FUCKING PLANET HE WAS PREVIOUSLY STANDING ON, he starts thinking about how well his interactions with this new villain will go. He starts having doubts, especially once Sylvia comes along, because he knows what Dominator is doing to the planet! But then maybe Dominator is kinda like what Major Threat (Or I guess Jeff now) used to be like, or just another goofball buddy like Hater! Who knows, he hasn't met her yet, so he continues onward!

Wander keeps up this same hopeful fascade all the way up until he and Sylvia get locked up in their little wall cage thingy. He states, while being pouty and miserable, that maybe this enemy was just an enemy, and when nothing else happens after a while, he sadistically remarks that maybe the "Residents" of this ship want them to stay. His tone is very null and dead, as if confronting the reality that some people are just pure evil is a fate worse than death!

Eventually, this clip happens, where Wander starts promoting friendship again in the hopes of finding some sort of hole in Dominator's demeanor. Of course, she fails to crack, proving to Wander that his assumptions aren't always right. She continues to ignore him, resumes not giving two shits when the mans starts dancing on her fucking keyboard, and only leaves when her ship gets flooded with lava thanks to Hater and Peepers.

From here on out, this is how their dynamic plays out, even after Wander finds out she's a "LLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDYYYY???????????????????????????????????" Well, at least on Wander's end of the bargain. For Dominator, a few things have changed.

People now know what she really looks like, and since Wander especially knows, he's extra dead-set on making her a friend. Of course, to her, this behavior is extremely annoying as she doesn't really need any friends. Dominator has voice lines too now, so we actually get to know what she thinks of Wander, and the guy swings from pissing her the fuck off, and amusing the hell out of her!

Now you may think that this is similar to what Hater thinks of Wander, since sometimes the two amuse each other, and other times Wander gets on Hater's nerve. (That last one is like 90% of their dynamic lmfao) However, this isn't the case. For Hater, it's a mix. He absolutely despises Wander to no end, but he clearly finds some sort of amusement in him coming around to bother him all the time, since conquering planets is just. Like. His job at this point. The mans is bored out of his mind and needs distractions for his ADHD brain, and Wander makes life fun! So yeah. Again, for Hater, he's got mixed feelings on his arch nemesis. For Dominator, however, she's more like a swinging pendulum, not feeling one way or the other for too long. She likes messing with Wander, and just likes him in general sometimes. And other times, she absolutely hates his guts like Hater does. She's amused by him one episode, and then another she goes out of her way just to kill a flower he and Sylvia liked.

So, in short, Dominator doesn't know what to think about Wander. All she does is call him weird and odd and then destroys a planet or two mid-sentence. She tortures him and laughs at him, all while proving that she cannot be swayed. She may be a pendulum, swinging one way or the other, but she's too heavy to be actually moved. And whenever Wander realizes this, his happy-go-lucky "Enemies are friends you just haven't met yet" mentality overpowers all reason. Then he's just back to square one again.

Y'know, looking at it in this light makes you realize why Dominator can't describe Wander with anything but "Weird."

This all comes to a head when the last episode of the show arises. "The End of the Galaxy."

In this episode, Wander starts off being completely against Dominator, and absolutely sides with everyone else. He is very much willing to forego the usual "I will bug you until we become friends" routine and tries thinking of another more effective solution. And very reasonably, everyone in the room wakes up and chooses violence. Now, sure, Wander recognizes how bad of a person Dominator is, but he just cannot and will not associate himself with anything inherently violent. Wander is a pacifist at heart, and even when the galaxy is dying, he will never in his life choose to kill anyone! Even if it meant saving everyone else. He just... He can't.

So naturally, he sneaks into Dominator's ship and tries to warn her about her impending doom. Because that's what you should totally do when your target is currently trying to kill you and all your friends. Yeah!

(That was sarcasm lmao)

When the two run into each other, Wander isn't really keen on becoming friends, but he's still too stubborn to look past her glaring insecurities. He can very easily tell that something's been bugging her for years, and will continue to haunt her if someone doesn't help, but Dominator is just put off by his desire to figure out what. And eventually, when everything is just looking down for Wander, Dominator thinks she's finally drilled it into that weirdo's dumb stupid little head that she isn't keen on being his friend! Girl straight up laughs at him when he thinks his friend has died. She taunts Sylvia with a frozen Wander, and basically spells out for the guy how she's going to destroy the last planet in the galaxy. Despite how odd he is, Dominator knows that Wander can't ignore the signs this time, just like how he knows she couldn't ignore him after their first interactions.

Of course, Wander falls back into the perpetual cycle of trying to befriend her once he pieces together her insecurities, (FINALLY) and when he does, it just confuses her even more. She doesn't take the bait, obviously, because she's just that cruel, and storms off to the next nearest galaxy to start from scratch once more.

I just. I really love their dynamic so much. It's full of complicated emotions and feelings and questions. There's so much story and drama built up around these two and it's so FUCKING DELICIOUS!!

Idt it’s rejection Wander struggles with; he gets rejected constantly. It’s being IGNORED he can’t handle. Like if he can’t even piss someone off, he knows he’s losing and it’s kinda funny to watch 😆

Also this is me @ Dominator 24/7

[aresrambles]

Are You Bored? [Pt. 2]

shigaraki tomura x f!reader - explicit nsfw, strictly 18+, villain!reader, degradation, phone sex, mutual masturbation (1091 words)

a/n: ok so a few ppl requested pt. 2 so i gave it a shot! i’m not sure if i took this in the right direction but hopefully it’s ok. obviously a lot more steamy from where we left off. please enjoy!

click this for part one

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

”What is it?”

Shigaraki’s grumbling through Discord, something about how it’s late at night and you’re disturbing some important planning of his. You pretend to have not seen the ‘Playing: Minecraft’ update on his profile and promptly apologise before mustering the courage to speak up to your so-called superior.

“Well, y’see Boss, I think you might have something that belongs to me.”

Well, fuck. So she had the brains to notice her bra’s missing. Honestly, you can’t even blame Shigaraki for what he did. Infact, what kind of fucking slut leaves her undergarments just laying around for anyone to see? You were practically begging for him to steal them, especially with the way your eyes not-so-subtly washed over them with sheer panic. If you asked him, he was doing you a favour: one less uncomfortable contraption to hide those beautiful tits away from him.

“Boss?”

Shigaraki pauses for a moment before slumping down on his desk and groaning into the mic. He decides it wouldn’t hurt to fuck with you for a little bit. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” he lies, eyeing the pretty black number thrown onto his bed. Just looking at it was beginning to give him a semi.

“No, I think- I think you do. I had, uh, an item of clothing on my floor. Maybe you accidentally picked it up or moved it aside?”

You wait anxiously for Shigaraki’s response. He’s always been calculated and cool around you, not really speaking more than he has to. It makes you reflect on whether he even has any real personality at all, behind that huge goal of destroying hero society and playing a shitty game now and then? Your waiting is not prolonged however as you hear him shifting around in his chair before continuing.

“You called me for this? To throw some baseless accusation around ‘cause you lost some panties?” You can practically hear his shit-eating grin and cant help but feel a insulted pang in your chest. Why won’t he just own up to it?

“Boss, c’mon. I know it was you- can I just have it back?”

Shigaraki pretends to mull it over before something flashes up on his screen, stopping him in his tracks. He almost can’t believe his eyes until he hears your soft voice in his ears again. “I… You’re putting me in a difficult position without it.”

As soon as his eyes roll over the promiscuous pixels on his screen, Shigaraki’s palm shoots to rub over his clothed dick. It seems this said ‘position’ was nothing short of you splayed out in a chair, alone and topless, body dimly illuminated by cool blue lights. Shigaraki assumes it’s coming from the monitor in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you turn on your video camera and angle it so he can see, well, everything.

And boy, if he was struggling before, it was no comparison to the pathetic state he was in now. Your bashful expression only turned him on more, as you shoot a pleading look his way. “Instead of that flimsy thing,” You take a second to drag a finger down from your neck to waist, “Wouldn’t you rather have this instead?”

Truly, you do want that bra back. It was expensive and you know damn well the bastard won’t reimburse you for it, but the need to act like a cockwhore had been on your mind ever since he fucked off from your place. Ever since you had kissed, the scene has been on your mind replaying over and over.

“What are you doing?” Shigaraki pants out inbetween breaths, scrambling to free his cock from his pants that feel far tighter than a few seconds prior. “Just-just what the fuck are you doing?”

You don’t think you could answer that even if you tried, instead taking those same fingers and sticking them in your mouth. Shigaraki groans before you once more begin to hear shuffling on the other end.

“I- I’m not showing you my face.” He mumbles before your screen lights up with the sight of him adjusting his camera to face his crotch. You don’t fail to catch the light blush that was caught on Shigaraki’s nose and cheeks before you’re faced with a much lewder sight. His cock, red-tipped and leaking, cast a brighter glow across your features. You watch him begin to give himself languid, firm strokes as you almost salivate in awe.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” You murmur, not realizing you’ve taken your fingers out of your mouth and are speaking loud enough for the mic to pick it up. Shigaraki only whimpers in response as he looks at the soft curves and edges of your body. This is so much better than anything he could have ever imagined. The way you were just presenting yourself to him like some desperate bitch in heat was like a straight-up snippet from his wildest dreams. What he would do to be able to touch you right now, to drag his nails across your supple skin and mark it up real good. Instead, he reminds himself to grab ahold of the current victory and pay attention to you in the moment. It’s not everyday he gets a bitch willing to put on a live show.

“Touch yourself,” Shigaraki breathes out, ‘and- and say my name, say Tomura when you do it.” The gentle commands make your gut clench as you take off your jeans and begun to rub your clit through your panties. The wet stain makes Shiggy’s hips buckle and he stops stroking himself, just for a couple of seconds, to regain his composure.

“Can I put my fingers inside?” You question quietly, shyly peering at the camera. Shigaraki nods his head vigorously before realizing you can’t see him, and instead settles on grunting in approval. You let out an almost comically lewd moan at the feeling of your fingers entering you, slowly pumping in and out.

“Tomura, m’feels good. Want your fingers inside me-“

Watching you squirm and mewl as you fingered your soaking pussy was doing things to Shigaraki, things that were making him wander dangerously close to mistaking the line between lust and love. Because Shigaraki truly believed he loved you in this moment. Watching you be so vulnerable, so beautiful, all for him… He had to lay his claim on you. If he didn’t, he thinks it’d kill him.

“Just like that, keep going.” he cooes.

For once, you don’t look bored.

[megthemewlingquim]

someone new.

summary: there's an art to life's distractions.

pairing: eventual hades! loki x persephone! reader

warnings: implied smut, alcohol consumption

a/n: here it is, the first part of foreigner's god. as said in this fic's masterlist, these will not be chapters, but rather short stories and one shots that can be read separately or as one whole piece. it's up to you.

i plan to base each part off of one or two hozier songs. this is inspired by "someone new".

is there a right way to fall in love?

    that’s what loki asks himself every day — well, every night — when he spends his free time at bars and gatherings. populated widely with fellow gods, goddesses, and spirits of many colors and passions; these bars are perfect places to find someone new.

    being the god of death, however, puts loki at a bit of a disadvantage. yes, the stereotypes are, unfortunately, true. loki is dark, a little antisocial, and very quiet. beautiful in appearance — death is seductive, at least to the willing.

    ‘the willing’ being many a spirit, many a dryad or goddess or creature who wants bragging rights, or a little nightly thrill. ‘that’s right,’ they say, ‘i had a little dance with death last night.’

loki doesn’t mind the mornings when his temporary partners talk about the nights, but he always cringes when they mention that accursed french phrase — la petite mort. it’s a joke to them. a mockery.

   yet, they stay, and sometimes, they come back for another little death.

    the spirits and goddesses never make a big impact on him. he is with one for a night, then another for a night, and so on. he falls in love every day with someone new and it’s a bore. a bore and a drag.

    dark caresses don’t do much to numb the pain: the pain of loneliness and solitude. the ache in his heart is constant, tearing at his mind whenever it can. alcohol can't do much either — all gods have a very high tolerance. mead was made for them.

   so loki is left with no escape besides those that come from the willing. little deaths. they make him feel loved.

   no...

   no one loves death. some crave him. but they don't love him.

   that’s the common theme running through loki’s head every time he takes someone home with him, or goes upstairs with them to the top floors of the inns he’s at, where the bedrooms are. it’s a distraction.

   however, the cycle ends when, while pointlessly wandering around his usual bar, he sees someone new one night. you.

   you radiate this... this warmth that he’s never felt before. everyone around you seems to be affected by it too - they don’t treat you as the life of the party, but they do gravitate towards you like birds to a nest. 

    and you’re quite shy, but infectiously happy and cheerful. you’re so beautiful, with your bright eyes that he knows are wide and filled with wonder, and your lovely skin that he knows is so soft. and your smile that he knows is so comforting to all who see it.

   to everyone else, you feel like they’ve just wandered into a happy memory, or a sun-lit room that’s pleasantly warm and golden. you feel familiar. ordinary, but lovely all the same.

   to loki, you feel... feel like something he’s only experienced in dreams. so, really, he’s never felt it before in his immortal life: something warm and alive and... and anticipatory. like there’s new things about to come up to the surface — flowers, new animals, maybe. you give off a sense of... he can’t describe it well. a slow and joyful awakening something.

   and you also feel completely and utterly powerful. unstoppable. he’s terrified of you, and yet he’s drawn to you. you’re so fascinating, strange. not as if you could end the world, no, that’s his own job. but it’s as if you can bring the whole world to life, raise it back up again after the chaos fades.

   you feel like spring. like rebirth. like new life.

   and that’s when it hits him.

   persephone. he’s heard the name passed around before, but before now, he has never seen the face behind the name. something about this sparks some fear in him: how would persephone, goddess of spring, daughter of demeter, react to seeing anyone even remotely like himself?

   for a moment, he’s grateful that you’re not looking at him; you’re actually looking at the table, at the drink you’re sipping. there’s a look on your face that isn’t bored, nor afraid. maybe... observant.

   people are around you still. not crowding, but not interacting with you either. it’s like you have a bubble around you, keeping everyone from getting too close. maybe it’s your doing but maybe it’s theirs. honestly, you’d think that dryads and gods and goddesses and spirits of all forms and colors and subjects would be more accepting.

   he pities you. you seem lonely.

   loki takes a few steps forward, betraying his own fear. like the red sea, the crowd parts. some are bold and unafraid, and they give loki varying looks: disgusted, seductive, snarky. you don’t notice him until he sits down in front of you, at the other end of the table.

   “hi,” he says calmly. he manages a small smile. “you’re new here, aren’t you?”

   your eyes lift to lock with his own. immediately, you recoil just the slightest bit. he knows what you’re thinking: wait, that’s hades! god of death... wh-why is he talking to me?

   “it’s alright,” he soothes. “don’t worry. you’ve probably heard of all the stories: gods kidnapping and doing terrible things to goddesses and spirits and dryads. i’m not here to do any of that. i promise.”

   with a single, somewhat confused blink, you nod. “m-my mother has told me a lot about that stuff,” you say slowly, as if saying anything too revealing will somehow alert demeter and get you in trouble. “she’s... she’s terrified...”

   “what is she terrified of? that those terrible things might happen to you?”

   “yes,” you say. “she’s told me that she’s had nightmares in the past. specifically about you. how you’ll kidnap me and take me to hell to live with you.”

   he laughs at that - a rich, amused laugh that takes the shivers out of you. “that’s bullshit. overprotective mothers, yeah?”

   you shrug. “she loves me.”

   “and are you afraid of me, princess?” the last word is whispered. his voice extremely soft - it’s a curious question.

   he notices how you lick your lips. “no,” you say. he notices how your eyes flick all over him. “no, i’m not.” and you seem truthful.

   “smart girl,” he says with a grin. “i hate liars. there’s not a god on in the world that’s ever been truthful. well, besides jesus. yahweh. whatever you wanna call him.” loki leans back, crossing his hands behind his head and bringing his feet up to the table. “your father, though... he’s the worst of ‘em. having children with other women, including your mother, while hera has to sit by and watch, and then lying about it.”

   “we’re gods,” you say. “i'm not trying to justify things but... we’re far from perfect.”

   “damn right we are. we’re fucked up. good. we can agree on something. most days, people think us gods are... perfect things. role models. and, maybe some are. but not us. not the gods of olympus.”

   he pauses, takes a swig from a beer bottle that was not in his hand a few seconds ago. “i was wondering if you wanted to do what humans do.” loki winces at the awkwardness. “when they're... y'know. interested in someone.”

   “you're interested... in me?” you ask, incredulously.

   “yeah, i am.” one sip of beer has loosened his tongue. or maybe that's just his confidence soaring now. “maybe this hasn't been the best introduction to things but i would love to take you out sometime. show you things.”

   “my —” you swallow. “i'd get in trouble.” you shrink away just a bit.

   his smile fades and it's replaced with a sadder, more sincere look. “the best things in life have risk to them. it's time i show you that.”

   and really, he does feel sorry for you. it's your first time at a bar, you're lonely. no friends as far as he can tell. an overprotective goddess mother.

   “think of it this way. i think you're very pretty and i like your honesty. i would like to help you see the world, and to have a little fun, since your mother has obviously never let you do anything in your very, very long life.”

   “i'm twenty—one.”

   “and now i'm wondering if demeter actually has you tell people that, as if you're a teenage mortal.” loki shakes his head, disappointed. “that's pathetic. you're a bajillion years old. you're a goddess! you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want, right?”

   when there's no answer from you, he sighs. leans forward to sit normally, putting both of his elbows on the table and pointing his hands at you. “alright. i'll roll with it for now. you're twenty—one. i guess. you can drink. you can go out alone to bars and other places. you can meet new people. you're an adult. think about that.

   “so, again. i think you're very pretty and i wanna show you around. get to know you. would you like to do that with me?” he raises his eyebrows a little, waiting for a response.

   it's an eternity before you can win a battle in your mind. slowly, you nod, giving him a smile. “yeah,” you whisper. “yeah, i would. thank you.”

   “don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. i haven't shown you anything yet.” he gets up, pushes his chair in.

   before he leaves, he winks at you. “call me loki. it's... not as dreadful... as hades. and... what do i call you?”

   you say your name, your voice quiet.

   “much better than persephone, i think. it suits you. we'll keep in touch, ok?”

   “okay,” you say. butterflies are flying rapidly in your stomach.

   loki leaves you there. he'd much rather take you back to your home himself, but that would be too risky for the time being. for now, he walks out of that bar feeling like the king of the world.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

The guys reacting to the first time thing get heated (😏) with their s/o

Leo

Ok so Leo is such a gentleman like it’s almost too much

like you have to put his hands on your waist/thighs/boobs ect because otherwise he won’t

not that he’s not excited, he’s over the freakin’ moon but he wants to make sure he isn’t pressuring you

eventually when it becomes clear that you definitely want this, he gets a little bold

“do you want to move this to my room?”

umm, of course you do!

he’s so very gentle at first

he knows that it’s just as much about your pleasure as it is about his

he undresses you like you’re something precious because, to him, you are

trails kisses everywhere and I mean every inch of skin that’s exposed

he does like to be in control most of the time but doesn’t want to force these power dynamics on you before you’ve had a chance to talk about them

so when you’re making out he goes a little more aggressive than he usually is but never too much, he wouldn’t do that

kissing up your neck, pulling your jaw to the side and kissing behind your ear and then telling you to look at him while he runs his thumb over your lips

compliments, compliments, compliments

telling you how you’re the most stunning thing he’s ever seen, he’s so lucky to be in this moment with you and how he’s gonna make this last

you can practically see the restraint in his entire being as he tries to hold back everything he wants to do to you because he knows he has to pace himself

but honestly, the second his clothes come off you’d let him do just about anything to you

of course he goes with traditional missionary for your first time together

not that he’s boring, but missionary is underrated and it means you can see each other and kiss while it goes down

oh he’s so intense though

direct eye contact and if you look away it’s “no, eyes back to me, baby. That’s right”

the kissing almost never stops unless he wants to hear you moan but you normally moan against his chest/shoulder to cover up the noise

not that he minds, in a way that’s hotter for him

stroking your hair and cupping your chin in his hand as he rocks further into you, telling you what an angel you are

it’s a perfect night

Raph

oh the gentle giant 

when things first start heating up and you encourage his hands to wander around your body more, he’s very quick to make sure you’re certain you want to do this

lots of “you can change yer mind anytime” and “yer sure yer wanna do this?”

he needs a little encouragement to warm up

but once he does he is in the zone baby!

undresses you like you are made of glass, like you’re the most fragile thing that’s every existed

and a long, loonnggg makeout session while you’re both in your birthday suits

this guy can really kiss 

hands will begin to wander, mainly to your ass/thighs as that is his fave part of you

but plenty of attention on your nipples too, trying to gauge how gentle/rough you like things 

unlike Leo being gentle with you comes so naturally to him

he’s used to toning down how strong he is when you’re in his arms just so he doesn’t crush you

there’s a shy little “so what do ya’ like?” as he rubs the back of his neck 

you giggle and tell him what gets you going and you being so upfront and honest makes him less shy

oh he knows how to body worship, he’s been dreaming of treating you like royalty since you first met and this is his chance

rubbing, nipping, licking and gently biting at your exposed flesh 

hand cupping the back of your neck in a possessive yet protective way also

big fan of hand stuff, just to really get you in the mood

but he also pulls away a lot just to make sure you’re still enjoying yourself and don’t want him to leave

he gets insecure like that at times

but when the act is actually happening, he’s in the moment entirely. Anxiety? who is she?

he wants you to ride him, he figures that’s best for you

lets you decide how deep you want to take him in and lets you set your own pace

also gives him a chance to rub, slap and cup your ass as much as he wants

he gets you to stop half way through just so he can take your face in his hands, look into your eyes and tell you “You’re perfect” before rolling you over and getting on top

Mikey

overexcited to the max

a “wait! this is really happening?”

then he’s practically squealing before giving himself a little pep talk of “be cool, man. don’t blow this for us”

oh he is so clumsy with it 

leading you to his room while trying to still makeout with you at the same time

you both bumping into every wall and table on the way there 

he picks you up bridal style to “carry you over the threshold” as he puts it

everything is just a light hearted, fun time with Mikey

however he takes your enjoyment and, beyond that, your consent very seriously.

((not that the others don’t, just Mikey is super in tune with this stuff))

he’s very intuitive so if you pull away or your body language doesn’t feel right, he asks about it and stops what he’s doing

last thing on earth he would want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe

the second he’s given the all clear, though, it’s back to business!

oh the dry humping and groping is to die for

he can’t have his hands in enough places at once 

very touchy feely to the extent it makes you laugh because he just wants you so badly and it’s so clear

after some more heavy petting and the clothes come off he gets between your legs so close that you can feel his breath on your most sensitive area and asks “do you want me to fuck you?”

not that you need to be asked twice, but it makes you falter because of just how hot that is

of course you say yes and then you’re in for the time of your life

he is the king of oral after all

his tongue just knows all the right spots and it’s slopping and intense and just oh so good

whispering sweet nothings against your sex because he’s just having such a good time down there

making sure to tell you how amazing you taste

but that’s just the warm up

the main act, he will of course ask again if this is what you want and then it’s show time babeyy

he wants you on your side with him behind you, arms around you and he lets you put him inside you, just to make sure you’re really ready 

playing with your nipples the entire time he’s fucking you because that’s just what Mikey loves to do

whispering in your ear non stop as well

about how tight you feel, how much he adores you....ect

biting your ear lobe and leaving hickies on your neck

Donnie

oh he’s the most nervous of any of them

not because he doesn’t know what he’s doing, believe me he does, he’s read enough books on it and maybe seen enough videos on the matter if you catch my drift

he could make you cum blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back (in fact, he’d probably like that)

but he wants everything to be perfect, he’s a romantic after all and this is a blessing and a curse

things are getting steamy and he knows it because you’re reaching up under his hoodie and caressing his thighs so he knows that tonight is the night

he’s half prepared which is less that he likes to be

he’ll excuse himself for a second and then come back 5 minutes later and lead you to his room

candles everywhere, slow jazz music playing and his bed is actually made for once

“...I wanted it to be special” he says sheepishly, so of course you throw your arms around him and kiss him deeply

mainly keeps his hands to safe areas until you tell him it’s ok to touch you and then he takes full liberties with it

king of hand stuff I cannot stress this enough

he has strong, perfect hands that know how to hit all the right spots and do not get tired

he can let you go 3 rounds with just his hand while both of you are still mostly clothed 

lots of brushing your hair out of your face and smiling little a dork at you

even lying back at one point and snorting because “oh my god I thought this would never happen!”

he makes it clear that he’s just thrilled to be there with you which makes you feel special 

eventually the clothes come off and he’s surprisingly good at taking the lead 

marking you up a little, even going as far as to leave a trail of love bites in the shape of a heart on your stomach 

he’s such an attentive kisser as well, just matching the pace you set and never too much or too little tongue, always letting you guide how you want it

he wants to to ride him, of course

he wants to just watch you, see your hair get messy as you run your hands through it in pleasure, see how you close your eyes and throw your head back, how you purse your lips together or bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan

hands on your midriff the entire time, helping you set a pace that’s good for both of you

he never takes his eyes off of you, just stares up adoringly the entire time

[simeons-sinful-saint]

EAS

(OM) Brothers x GN!Reader

Synopsis: A storm is a brewing, and the brothers are unprepared for it.

WC: 1.2K

Note: So this is very America centric, bc we have the tornados. Trust me, I’ve lived through many of them lol I saw the trend on TikTok of people rating EAS through the world and I had this crack head idea. So I hope you enjoy lmao

“Ugh, why can’t we go out MC?” Mammon whined throwing himself onto the couch.

“Dude, it’s pouring out there. Just because you’d be ok in it doesn���t mean I would be.”

The cracks of thunder and lightning were far off in the distance, and you all were stuck at your parents’ house. Luckily, they were away at a friend’s house. You doubt that they’d be back anytime soon.

“Isn’t there anything else to watch on the TV? The Ruri-Chan marathon isn’t on anymore.” Levi was flipping through channels unable to pick anything.

You tried looking at the TV guide he was running through, “What about Jurassic Park? That’s a good movie.”

“Oh! Is that the one with the dinosaurs?” Mammon suddenly got up and tried to take the remote from Levi.

“Get off me you idiot!”

“Can you guys shut up? I’m trying to read here.” Satan sounded very annoyed, and you don’t blame him. Honestly, the brothers’ antics get on your nerves each time.

Lucifer was in the other room, so he couldn’t help you break them up. Honestly, there was a lot happening. You had those two fighting, and you have Beel cleaning out the fridge. It meant you had to replace all of that food before your parents got home.

You can already feel the headache develop.

Suddenly, the TV froze.

“What the fuck MC? Why is it broken—“

“Just shut up Mammon!”

Your worst fear came true. The loud alarm started ringing through the living room causing all of the boys to jump.

You could only sigh.

“MY NAILS!” Asmo shrieked as nail polish now pooled out onto the coffee table. You could still hear Belphie’s soft snores from behind you. Of course, he wouldn’t wake up during this.

Beel and Lucifer ran into the room.

“MC, what is happening?” Lucifer tried to sound calm, but obviously the warning was pretty terrifying.

The screen turned black, and white letters across the screen read: Emergency Alert System.

The alarm was followed by ringing making the brothers, besides Belphie, cover their ears.

Then of course it began…

The National Weather Service in (City) has issued a Tornado Warning for…

“What the hell is a tornado?!” Mammon yelled.

“It’s a rotating column of air that causes a lot of damage when touched down on the ground.” Satan wasn’t helping.

“Guys just calm down. It’s just a tornado. They’re very common here.” You tried to give them reassurance but that only fed fuel to the fire, “umm…besides, we don’t know if it’s an actual tornado heading towards us.”

At 9:31, National Weather Service Doppler Radar indicated hook signatures most common in tornado sightings. A funnel cloud had been spotted touching the ground by emergency experts.

Damn it.

“We’re going to die, aren’t we?!” Levi was holding on to Mammon, well at least they stopped fighting.

You groaned, “Guys, no one is going to die. We just have to take shelter.”

This storm has a history of producing ping pong sized hail. Locations affected were…

“Oooh hail sounds scary…” Asmo was grabbing on to you. You could feel him shaking, “MC, what’s hail?”

“They’re pellets of frozen rain that you don’t have to worry about. It’s just going to ruin my car…”

Take cover now. Move to an interior room of the lowest floor in a sturdy building. Avoid windows.

The alarm beeped a few more times before stopping, warning still on the screen. It was going to repeat itself any minute.

“We have to go to the basement,” you said, “It’s safest in there.”

“But MC it said an interior room—“ Satan couldn’t finish his sentence.

“That’s for houses that don’t have basements!”

You grab the radio used for emergencies like this, “Come on. Into the basement!”

“MC WE’RE GOING TO DIE!” Mammon was crying at this point.

“We’re not going to die, Mammon. Follow MC’s instructions.” At least Lucifer was helping you. Beel went back to the kitchen.

“No Beel! There’s a fridge down there with ice cream you can eat!”

He turned around and finally went downstairs. You started counting heads and realized one was missing.

“BELPHIE!” You bolt back upstairs to see he finally woke up.

“what’s going on…” he yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The tornado sirens from outside started blaring. You could hear the panic from downstairs with Lucifer yelling at them to keep quiet.

“No time! Basement!” You almost pushed Belphie down the stairs, running down yourself. Everyone was just standing around not knowing what to do.

“So now what?” Satan asked. You turned on the radio and set it down on the washing machine.

“We wait.”

—

“I’m bored!” Mammon yelled.

“Tough shit! We don’t have the all clear yet, so we can’t go upstairs.”

“What do we do if your house gets blown away?! All of my luggage?!

“That’s not going to happen Asmo! Everyone, just remain calm. We don’t even know how powerful the tornado is. It probably is nothing. Small ones happen all the time here.”

“What if it isn’t small?!” Levi was still freaked out, basically now huddled into a corner.

You sigh, “That’s for me to worry about, not you guys…”

“Listen to MC. Obviously they know what to do. So, stay quiet.” You mouth the words ‘thank you’ to Lucifer. Honestly, he, Satan, Beel, and Belphie were the only ones that weren’t driving your anxiety through the roof.

“How do we know it’s near us?” Satan asked.

You thought about it, “Well, it kind of sounds like a train, but it’s mainly just the thunder you here. Really no one really knows since ya know…no one wants to be in one. They just say they roar.”

Lucifer hummed, “They said people saw one. Was it by accident?”

“No, there are people called storm chasers whose entire job is to follow activity in a thunderstorm like this.”

“WAIT, PEOPLE CHASE THESE?!” Levi and Mammon screamed.

You nod your head, “It’s dangerous work, so they get paid a lot.”

Something then changed in Mammon’s eyes, “Well when you put it like that—“

“No!” You and Lucifer yelled.

“This ice cream is really good, MC.” Beel already finished your parents ice cream and now moved onto yours.

You pouted, but it was for the greater good. You didn’t want Beel to wander back into the kitchen nor did you want everyone annoyed by his stomach, “I’m glad.”

Belphie was happily asleep next to him. At least he wasn’t panicking.

“Ok, can you guys please be quiet? I need to hear the weatherman.”

Finally, everyone calmed down and paid attention to the radio, “If you are in the (City) area, you have the all clear. But make sure to stay tuned in.”

“Well, ya heard him,” you started heading upstairs.

“MC DON’T!!”

You turned around to stare at Mammon, Levi, and Asmo, “Guys…it’s fine.”

Opening the basement door, everything was fine. None of the windows were broken, and there wasn’t much hail outside. Your car had been spared.

“I guess it really is okay…” Mammon said as the others came up. The TV was back on to the regular program. Levi was about to grab the remote until you swiped it from him.

“Nope! We’re watching the local news!”

Mammon and Levi groaned. But for now, there was a calm after the storm.

[autumnsart22]

Suna x reader: Final part (smut)

Here’s the final part to my Suna series! I wasn’t satisfied with my fluff version of the ending (which you can read here if you’re interested) so I decided to write a more smutty version. 

Warning: degradation, angry sex, light choking, mostly just a lot of degrading lol

I genuinely think this is the hottest fanart I’ve ever seen of him I can barely look at it without ✨butterflies✨. 

Art creds go to @minghuaa_art on twitter!

Despite Kita seeing you that day in the car, Suna still asked to keep whatever was between you a secret. That was fine with you--you didn’t particularly want a boyfriend, especially with the second semester of college work picking up. You still got to see him pretty often, hooking up in his car or your dorm at least three nights a week or more. Never the frat house; apparently his roommates were annoying. 

It was nice. Easy. Far easier than you ever expected friends with benefits to be. And beyond the sex, you loved talking to Suna; laying together on your tiny bed, legs tangled, while he explained the new music he was listening to, or walking together to the cafeteria as he made you laugh so hard that water came out of your nose. 

The good parts were enough to overlook the bad parts. At first. 

Suna was an abnormally horrific texter, barely ever responding within the day, if at all. If you ever wanted to get in contact with him, you’d have to call directly. And honestly even then he didn’t have the best track record. 

What was more frustrating was that it was always on his time. He would text you asking to hang out that night, and you would say yes, and then he wouldn’t respond until the following afternoon with some vague excuse about being busy. The first few times it happened, you got so mad that you didn’t respond to his calls, until he showed up at your dorm with panda express and forced you to watch Tokyo Ghoul with him. 

He had apologized...but it didn’t stop happening. It made you feel like you were some sort of side whore, who he called when he was bored and had nothing better to do. Like you were second best to everything else he had going on in his life. 

You had promised yourself from the beginning that you wouldn’t allow yourself to get close enough to get hurt, but it was hard. You really, really liked him. 

You liked the way he would stare at you while you talked, actually listening and curious as to what you had to say. You liked the way he hugged you after a few days of not seeing each other, burying his face in your hair like he couldn’t get close enough to you. You liked the way he laughed, both the usual, quiet chuckles and the rare snorting wheezes. You liked the way his mouth looked when he smoked, the way he moaned your name when he came, the way he could make you laugh at anything at any time. 

You didn’t want to get the “I told you so” talk from Kiyoko, so you avoided the topic all together: with her, and yourself. 

After one month of hanging out with Suna, you were planning on meeting up and going to see a movie. Both of you were more homebodies, preferring to stay in rather than party, but you had decided that you wanted to try and expand your horizons once again. The movies seemed like a happy compromise. 

The film was something Suna had been talking about for a while, an action thriller that honestly looked like shit but got good audience reviews because of all the flashy fight scenes. He had been so excited when it came out that you hadn’t been able to say no to going, especially not after he pried you with food. 

He was coming to get you at 6 pm, and your last class ended at 3pm, which gave you plenty of time to get ready. You stared at the face of your teacher on the screen within your zoom class, zoning out as he explained the flood system around the school. You glanced over as your phone buzzed, a message from Suna popping up on the screen. 

Suna

Wha u doying rit now?

You

What?

Suna

Sorr little drynk 

You

You’re drunk? 

Suna

im at psrty

You

Are we still seeing a movie tonight?

There was no response, and you felt your stomach drop. You didn’t even notice as your teacher ended class and logged you off the meeting. Suna was at a party at 3 in the afternoon, drunk, and didn’t seem to remember you had plans. You swallowed, shoving your phone aside as you ground your teeth. Why was he so frustrating? 

You stood up, angry at yourself for caring, furious at Suna for making you feel this way, for being such a piece of shit. You knew what party he was probably at--Kiyoko had said she was going at some point--and suddenly you were moving before you could think about it. 

You dressed nice, but casual enough that it wasn’t out of place at a frat party. Sexy enough to make him want you though, of course. 

You didn’t give yourself time for nerves as you strode from your dorm and headed in the direction of the frat house, following a steady stream of people already going in that direction. You knew it was Friday, but how the fuck were so many people already getting ready to party when it was literally 3:30????

It wasn’t overly crowded in the house when you entered, but enough where it was confusing as you wandered through the crowd. You snatched two drinks from the counter, downing them as fast as possible as you searched for Suna in the crowd. You’d need to be at least tipsy before having this confrontation. 

You found him in the living room, sprawled out on the couch next to who you recognized to be Akaashi, Kuroo, Kita, and Iwaizumi--all who you knew through Kiyoko. There were a few others you didn’t know, and they were all clearly drunk out of their minds. 

As you entered the room, Suna met your eyes for a brief moment, but then they moved on without a reaction. He didn’t care at all that you had come to find him, or that he had never responded to your text. 

The drink in your hand trembled, and you walked out of the room without looking back. 

Instead of talking to Suna, you decided to get wasted. An hour after first coming to the party, you were deep in a game of beer pong and you had a pleasant warmth in your gut, the world a little hazy. You felt braver, more angry, and suddenly all you wanted to do was track down that yellow eyed idiot and slap him. 

“Where’s Suna?” You slurred, turning to look at your partner at beer pong. You knew him vaguely as one of the frat boys, Suna’s friend Atsumu. 

Atsumu grinned, raising his eyebrows as he stared down at you. “Suna? Why?” 

You weren’t drunk enough to tell him of your “friendship” with Suna, so you just shrugged. 

“He’s over there,” Atsumu pointed towards the kitchen, and you felt all the blood drain from your face as you followed his gaze. Sitting in a chair, his back to you, was Suna...and on his lap was a beautiful blonde girl with her hands in his hair as she kissed him fiercely. 

You must have made some sort of sound, because Atsuma looked back at you. “You good?” 

You forced yourself to nod. “I’m...going to go get some fresh air.” 

“I’ll come,” he said, and you decided not to argue. 

Seeing Suna had sobered you up considerably, but your emotions were still a complete mess. All you could feel was a deep, unending hurt. 

As you headed down the hall, Atsumu grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him. “So...you and Suna huh?” He said, a strange smile on his face. 

“What are you--?” 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to keep it a secret.” He took a step towards you, and you raised your eyebrows. 

“We aren’t together.” 

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind,” He gently took your chin, lifting your face. “If I did this?” 

“I--” 

“What the fuck.” 

All the breath wooshed out of you at the familiar voice, which was now laced with anger. Suna stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets as he watched you and Atsumu. He was smiling, but it was icy with rage and...jealousy?

“Suna,” Atsumu grinned, releasing your face but not stepping back. “What do you want?” 

Suna jerked his chin in your direction. “How about you get away from her, and then we’ll talk?”

“Dude,” Atsumu rolled his eyes. “She just told me she was single. I don’t get what the problem is.” 

Suna’s face tightened. “If you don’t get the fuck out of here in the next three seconds, I swear I will break your--”

“Chill, ok!” Atsumu stepped back from you, given you a frustrated look before heading away down the hall. 

When he was out of sight, Suna’s head slowly turned to face you, his eyes dark. “Single?” His voice was a low snarl. 

You swallowed, feeling your anger return full force. How dare he. “Yes!” You snapped, “Since you clearly don’t view this as any sort of relationship.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“So you can go off kissing other girls, but I can’t flirt with Atsumu?” 

“Looked like a bit more than flirting,” he said, teeth bared, before the other part of what you said caught up to him. “And how drunk are you? I wasn’t kissing shit!” 

“Are you seriously lying to my face right now? I saw you!” 

“I didn’t kiss anyone! Do you really think that little of me?”

You clenched your fists. “Atsumu said--” 

Suna was in your face in a second, towering over you as he backed you against the wall. “What did he say?” He growled. 

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him in silence. 

Suna gave a dark chuckle. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” 

You barely had time to react before he gripped your chin, kissing you roughly and shoving his tongue in your mouth. You moaned, and the sound snapped whatever restraints Suna had. His hands ran down the back of your thighs, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you through the nearest door into a random bedroom. He kissed down your neck as he kicked the door shut, and you gasped as he tossed you on the bed. 

Your eyes slid down his chest and across his toned stomach as he pulled his shirt over his head, completely at a loss for what to do. You could feel the heat pulsing between your legs, making your heart race and your body tremble. But this was wrong. Right? 

You didn’t have anymore time to think about it as Suna gripped your ankles, dragging you to the end of the bed. 

“Why do you still have clothes on?” He snarled, yanking your leggings off and leaving them in a tangled mess on the floor. His eyes darkened as they swept over the pair of lacy underwear you had worn, sliding towards your center where you kept your thighs clenched tightly together. 

He didn’t say a word as he forced your legs apart, dropping to his knees at the end of the bed, yanking down your underwear, and positioning one of your legs over his shoulder. You shuddered as his hot breath caressed you, and he ran lazy circles along the inside of your thighs with his long fingers. 

“Fuck…” He murmured under his breath before looking up at you. “Do you want me to--”

“Stop teasing me Suna,” you groaned, shifting your hips, and he laughed darkly. 

“Fine.”

You practically screamed at the first sweep of his tongue, managing to turn your face into a pillow to muffle your noises as he worked around your clit and used his fingers in your core. You bucked your hips up into his face, and his laughter vibrating through your body almost had you coming within the first minute. 

You let out a low cry of protest as he pulled away, raising his head to glare at you. His mouth was covered in your juices, his hair rumpled and eyes glassy. He leaned over you, yanking away the pillow you had been using to cover your mouth and throwing it across the room. 

“What are you--”

“I want to hear you begging for it,” he snapped, and you managed to roll your eyes before he shoved his fingers back into you. 

“You’re so--ah!” You shuddered. 

Over the course of a month of fucking each other, Suna had figured out exactly how to make you fall apart under his tongue and fingers, so it didn’t take long for him to work you into an early climax. Your legs shook, and you let out a series of moans as you came all over his mouth. 

He got to his feet after making sure he had licked you completely clean, gazing down at you with possessive smugness. 

“Why do you look so fucked out already? We’ve barely gotten started.” 

You didn’t even argue as you got onto your knees on the bed, hands sliding into his hair as you kissed him angrily, unsaid words erupting. He allowed you to shove him onto the bed, and you focused on unzipping his pants and throwing them aside, ditching your shirt and bra along with it. His boxers went next, and then you had his dick in your hands, stroking it while Suna groaned. 

“Here,” he panted, tossing you a condom, and you slid it over his cock just like he taught you. You positioned yourself over him, impatient, your knees on either side of his hips as you thrust yourself down on him in one go. You both moaned at the feeling of finally having him inside you. 

“F-fuck,” you gasped, slowly rolling your hips as you rested your hands lightly on Suna’s chest. You went slow, taking the time to feel how deep he reached inside you, the movement on your clit enough to send tingles up the rest of your body. 

Suna watched you ride him lazily, his yellow eyes half closed as he took in the way your naked body shifted to move on top of him. 

“Ha, you’re doing so good...god--you’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, and you glared down at him. 

“You make me so...mad…” You managed between pants of pleasure, and Suna raised his eyebrows. 

“You can still talk? I guess I’m not doing enough…” 

Before you could protest, he flipped you over so that you were lying on your back with him hovering over you, his dark hair falling around his face as he gripped your throat lightly. 

“You’re such a little cumslut aren’t you?” He murmured in your ear, and you arched slightly. “Don’t you ever try and fuck someone else again, got it? You’re only allowed to come around my cock.”

You moaned in agreement, and Suna rolled you over onto your stomach, dragging your hips up so your ass was high in the air. He gave you no warning as he thrust back in, practically fucking you into the mattress. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he used his fingers to reach around and rub your clit, his other hand running along your breast. You could  barely think through the pleasure, and the only coherent word you were managing to say was his name.

Suna leaned over you, yanking your head back to murmur in your ear. “You’re mine, got it?” His words were rough, and you clenched hard around his cock. You could feel your second orgasm approaching, and he could tell too by the way you shuddered around him. He paused in his motion, and you wiggled your hips in protest, trying to get him going again. 

“Why’d you stop?” You snapped, glancing over your shoulder when he didn’t continue. 

Suna grinned. “Beg for it, bitch.”

He moved slightly, letting you feel the friction, and you gasped in anger and pleasure. This bastard wanted to tease you, make you submit to him…

Despite knowing this, you broke almost immediately. “Please, Suna, please please, I need you so bad--”

Immediately, he picked up his pace once again, adding more pressure to your clit, and you jerked. “That’s a good girl.” 

“Ah, ah, Suna, fuck, I love-- you, ahhh…” You cried, feeling moisture spill down your thighs as your stomach erupted for the second time that night. 

For a moment he stilled, and you bit your lip in tired confusion. Did he want you to beg again? You weren’t sure you had another round in you. 

You looked over to see him with a shocked expression on his face, but it quickly melted into smugness again once he caught you staring at him. “Of course you love me while I’m fucking you like this,” he growled finally. “It’s because you’re such a slut for it, right?” 

Your mouth dropped open, but you didn’t have time to say anything as he started moving once again, making you yelp at the overstimulation. Had you said you loved him? Out loud? Oh my god…

“Have I fucked you stupid already?” he purred in your ear, pulling out of your dripping cunt before slamming back in and picking up his pace. You moaned loudly, thrusting your hips back to meet his as all thoughts flew from your head. 

“S-Suna I--” You could barely speak, it felt so good, despite the fact that you had already come. Twice. 

 He began to pant in your ear, groaning as his grip on your hips tightened.“F-fuck--” He grunted, arms sliding around your waist as he jerked and came. 

You both collapsed on the bed, sweaty and exhausted, and Suna easily pulled the condom from his dick before tying it and tossing it in the trash. After a long moment, you rolled to your feet to padded over to where your clothes lay--until you realized that your leggings had a massive rip in them. 

“Suna!” You cried, holding up the fabric. He raised his eyebrows, and had the decency to at least look vaguely guilty. 

“Sorry.” 

“What do I wear?!” 

“Here.” He threw the shirt he had been wearing earlier at you, and you gave him a glare.

He had already wiped himself down with the tissues on the counter, and had pulled on his sweatpants once again, leaving him shirtless. His eyes swept lazily down your still naked body, his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and you crossed your arms in annoyance. 

“Suna,” You snapped, but finally pulled his shirt over your head, not seeing another option. “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” you said, before heading out the door without waiting for a response. 

The bathroom was thankfully right down the hall, and thankfully empty. You didn’t feel very guilty about fucking Suna when you should have been communicating in a healthy way, but you definitely still felt mad. 

After you had wiped all the fluids from your inner thighs and core, you headed back to the room to grab the rest of your stuff. 

You found Suna on his phone lying on the bed, but he looked up as you came in. 

“Where are you going?” He said as you gathered your stuff, and you huffed. 

“Back to my dorm.” 

“Wait,” he lunged out of the bed and grabbed your arm. “Don’t go.” 

“Now you want to spend time with me?” 

“Just...stay. Please.” 

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Fine.” 

His expression relaxed into a happy smile, and he dragged you onto the bed with him before flicking out the lights. You weren’t sure what time it was exactly, but you were sure it was far past two in the morning. Your eyelids drooped as Suna wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. 

You were right on the edge of sleep when he murmured, “Did you mean it?” 

Immediately you were awake; you knew exactly what he meant. “U-um--” You hadn’t worked out any of the problems between you two, and you were sure he didn’t feel the same way. How were you supposed to admit to loving him like this?

“It’s fine,” he finally muttered. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” 

You swallowed. “Yes. I did mean it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you felt Suna tense around you. 

“Really?”

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to say it. “Yes... I love you.” 

You felt his sigh against your air, ticking the little hair on the back of your neck. His hand slid across your stomach while the other gently began to stroke your hair, and the movement had you relaxing despite the tears that had built up at his lack of response. 

You closed your eyes and set it aside; you would deal with it tomorrow. Now, it was time for sleep. 

“I love you too.” You heard, so soft that it was almost just a breath of air.  

It was probably just a dream.  

[solomonish]

How To Keep Your Demon Entertained At A Walmart

Congratulations! You've earned yourself a few demon date days up in the human world! But what's this? You have errands to run? Well, we all know these demons can't function without you for more than five minutes....but an entity that's thousands of years old gets a little bored and restless in the hyper-market wasteland of a Walmart...

Nowdateables: coming soon!

Lucifer

if you don't want him getting passive-aggressive about how you should've done this before he got here (yeesh Lucifer some of us have jobs or responsibilities that we can't shove onto our siblings for a day to see our precious mc) then you better be ready to make conversation

definitely not the type to allow you to even think about sending him off so you can get stuff done. he's not even that bothersome, so he'll get offended if you even think about it, but also wouldn't you rather keep him around to reach the top shelves?

basically if you don’t want to keep Lucifer entertained, you have to be the one he needs to keep entertained

do that thing where you roll around on the cart like a skateboard and he’ll be trying to put a stop to it immediately

put random things in your cart that he knows you don’t need and let him take it out and put it back where it belongs

stare him in the eyes as you put that party size brownie mix in your cart then speed walk away. he will come up from an aisle in front of you and silently pluck the box out and take it back. he will come back to see seven boxes of corn dogs and momentarily considers breaking up with you

does not need a treat as a bribe, but will definitely forgive your antics if you bought something from the bakery to snack on as you go home (especially if you did it without him noticing, considering the eagle eye he’s had to have on your cart the whole time)

just don’t have the nerve to complain about the crumbs in your car after that

Mammon

I would say to ask him to scan the area looking for dropped coins on the floor but he'd probably knock down shelves trying to look beneath them so....maybe don't?

also please keep an eye on him or he WILL be shoplifting. human jail is (probably?) a step up from demon jail but like. let's aim for no jail, ok mammon?

instead, give him a pre-portioned off list and tell him it's like a scavenger hunt. he'll scamper off to explore the walmart and his duty to keeping you happy has like a 70% chance of preventing him from stealing anything too important

make sure the stuff you put on the list is kind of hard to find but not too hard. you wanna keep him occupied without risking him freaking out because he can't find this super specific spice you want

either that or only make a really vague list like. tell him you need bread and he'll stand in the bread aisle trying to remember if you like white bread or whole wheat bread until you come to retrieve him

bring money for a treat. if it's near st patrick's day go in the seasonal aisle and hope they have chocolate gold coins

he's not too hard to deal with, but figuring out what's sneaky enough to put on the list is a chore of its own so going by yourself is less work anyway

Leviathan

taking him to walmart was your final fatal mistake

seriously? he has to go in? you could have just left him in the car!!

you take him intending to have him pick out some normie snacks (since you don't have any limited edition whatever-the-fucks in your house right now) but he looks so uncomfortable you make a detour towards the games

just leave him to play on the trial device and go pick out a few things for him to choose from when you circle back to him

arguable the least stressful trip for you until you have to wade through the pool of kids surrounding him and watching him play when it's time to pay and leave

you won't have to buy him anything but you will have to wait for him to finish the level he's on before he lets you drag him away. and he'll probably complain a little bit in the car about how terrible it was to go in in the first place, which a treat would help minimize.

so i guess just pick your battles with this one?

Satan

satan is a refined individual with startling amounts of self control. he does not need pointed in the direction of the books. he can entertain himself on a grocery run.

point him in the direction of the books anyway

their selection is always small (because it’s a walmart not a bookstore) and half of it is children’s anyway so he’ll probably wander off real quick

satan doesn’t need to be entertained, no, he’s past that. he needs to be kept on a leash

you have no way of knowing where he’ll end up. sometimes he’ll be somewhere that makes sense like in the stationary but sometimes you’ll find him staring at the paint samples like it’s a masterpiece in a museum or over by the fishing hooks reading up about local fish populations and how to get a fishing license and you’re just like “???? i’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes???? don’t give me facts about salmon???”

will ask you why you need to buy tires in the same place you get your food. isn’t that suspicious? what do they specialize in?

answer him only with the word “bargains” and he’ll stop asking once he understands or gets annoyed

you don’t need to buy him a treat unless he finds a book he wants. then come on mc, you dragged him out here and you’re NOT gonna let him get this one thing??

Asmodeus

he's fine with making an errand run with you actually!

he's up on the human world for you baby, just make sure to hold his hand so he feels appreciated

asmo is far too entertained with the concept of a walmart for his own good. don't go with him if you want it to be a quick trip because he'll want to go around the whole store

thinks at first that it's kind of nifty that humans just dump all the things they need in one store but is quickly turned off from the novelty when he realizes how short the distance is between the clothes and the nearest package of raw chicken

even if the selection is small, he will want to spend time in the makeup department. probably goes on rants about how he can’t imagine this quality of product is good for your skin

will still buy nail polish though if you let him

overall? not terrible to have around, but make sure you don’t have anywhere to be in the next hour when you take him

Beelzebub

pack a gallon bag of cheerios like he's a toddler and get ready to fucking book it in and out of there

you know how you should never go grocery shopping when you’re hungry? what were you thinking bringing Beel around??

another brother who’s good for reaching tall shelves if you need it

Beel also has this talent where he can just list off the ingredients you need if you happen to forget your list

if you want, you can distract him momentarily by just throwing out random dishes and he’ll get the ingredients right every time (even though they’re human dishes!!) but you’ll end up giving him like five different cravings by the time you leave

only take him if you want to speedrun grocery shopping, because he will start eating food you haven’t paid for if you take too long

bring extra money for that too, just in case he gets caught :(

Belphegor

bringing belphie to walmart isn't a matter of keeping him entertained moreso than keeping him awake

which you will inevitably fail to do

so even if you only need like three things, get him a cart and let him fall into the basket

he’ll try to stay awake (and he’ll give very self-satisfied grins to the people who stare at him ((and especially the ones who say “wow i wanna do that”))) but he can only fight off his sin for so long

stop by the blankets so he can stuff a few soft things in (bc he’s gotta be uncomfortable cramped in the little basket) and he’ll make himself a tiny nest

the good news is you can put anything on top of him and he won’t complain. just don’t drop any gallons of milk on him or anything that’ll wake him up

go to a self check-out so the employees don’t yell at you

after you put your groceries in your car, just dump his ass on the pavement. he’ll forgive you if you bought him the blankets.

[writerofshit]

(I mentioned briefly a story of how the Stream Team met. This is that story.)

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the late night hours of a Tuesday, a convenience store is robbed. So is one several blocks southeast. And one roughly in the middle of them both. After all, what's more convenient than 24 hour chili dogs on every other street corner?

Cash. Cash is more convenient. So are guns. Hollering, waving one to get the other. Most important, back alleys that twist and turn, snaking away from increasingly distant sirens. Three individuals find themselves running through these alleys, a couple grand each weighing their pockets down.

It's through serendipity and convenience that their paths cross.

The man from the farthest store arrives first. He's done this a few more times than he'd like to admit, so he'd had a plan. Of sorts. Cut through the park, take a few sidewalks like an upstanding citizen, under the bridge and find a fire escape to utilize from there. There aren't any that reach the ground, of course, because he's smart but not quite enough.

And so this is why Trevor is standing in an dark alley, contemplating whether or not the dumpster will give him enough height to reach the ladder, when the man from the middle store appears. He's around Trevor's height, but would probably win in a fight between them, if he were so inclined. He doesn't seem to be, though. He seems shaken, like he's not quite sure how he ended up in this alley. He's holding a gun almost gingerly, as if it might bite him.

Trevor pulls his own gun.

'dont you fuckin' try anything!'

This does not go over well with Matt. He takes a step back, and then seems to remember that he also has a gun so maybe this is even footing. He holds it aloft, finger nowhere near the trigger.

'same, asshole!'

At this moment the robber from the first store arrives, also, of course, with a gun. And a mask. And an entire purple and orange neon fucking suit, actually, topped with a white cowboy hat. It gives them a few extra inches of height they are distinctly lacking, comparatively. Somewhere in the back of his head, Trevor acknowledges that this newcomer could probably kick his and the other gunman's asses. It is not a pleasant thought.

'oh, what the fuck!?'

Jeremy sounds more annoyed and less scared than one would think, considering they've run into an alley only to find two men with guns. Two men who quickly turn those guns on them.

'who the fuck are you?'

The question surprises them all, including Matt, even though he's the one who asked. As it turns out, people have a tendency to say the first thing that comes to mind when in a stressful situation. Such as, having robbed a convenience store for the very first time and immediately finding himself face to face with other apparent robbers. It would get to anyone, probably.

'i don't want any trouble, but i've already robbed someone tonight and i don't give a shit about felony murder!'

Two lies and a truth, is what Trevor has chosen to play, for some reason. In reality, one does not rob a convenience store at gun point if one is intent on staying out of trouble. And he does, in fact, care very deeply about felony murder. Felony murder is the precise reason he'd shot a bag of Doritos and not a clerk. In his defense, the clerk had initially rolled her eyes at him, asked what exactly he thought he'd get out of this. He'd found this question rude.

The truth, of course, is that he did rob a convenience store. That did happen. No take backs.

'so did i!'

Matt and Jeremy speak so in unison it's almost scary. If they didn't know any better, they'd think the two of them had always known each other.

Trevor's gun wavers between them, unsure which is the bigger threat. The guy who clearly has zero experience with guns, or the weirdo who seems to have far too much? It's a toss up, really. So his aim pinballs back and forth, but his finger does not curl around the trigger. He's serious about that felony murder thing.

The air seems to shift, suddenly, and the sound of sirens is now growing closer. This evidently also annoys Jeremy, and they throw a glance over their shoulder to the direction they'd come from. Red and blue lights flicker past.

'shit. ok. we're all robbers, i guess, and we're all fucked if we keep standing here. who's got a plan?'

Jeremy's eyes are staring impatiently at Trevor. Eyes being the only part of their face Trevor can see. And their hands, a plastic bag in one and a gun in the other.

Trigger finger is an apt name.

He glances at Matt, still wild eyed and glancing back and forth. No, Matt probably does not have a plan. He sort of gives the impression that he's never had a plan ever, actually. That perhaps he'd simply woken up here and decided to wing it. So Trevor makes an offer.

'fire escape?'

There's another moment of tense silence. Well, minus the sirens. And oh, helicopters. Even better. Jeremy shrugs.

'good a plan as any.'

And then they're off, brushing past Trevor and hoisting themself up onto the dumpster. He knew it could work. Trevor blinks and Jeremy has caught the ladder, is quickly working their way up. Shit, how does five foot something manage to get that high on a good day, much less in this situation and with a bag and gun in hand?

Matt's gun clatters to the ground, and honestly, that's probably for the best. He's climbing onto the dumpster now, and he mutters something about not signing up for this shit. Trevor reminds him that he apparently robbed someone, so yeah, he kind of did.

Before Trevor climbs up, he shoves his gun into his jacket pocket. Smart? Probably not. Convenient? More so than climbing with a gun in his hand. He follows Matt up the ladder, wondering what happened to his plan. Yeah, the ladder had been involved. Two other people, however, were not.

Above them, glass shatters.

'warning, maybe!?'

'oops. careful, there's glass.'

Jeremy's voice is no longer directly above them. Instead, it comes from one story up and a little to the left. So they've broken into an apartment. Sure, add breaking and entering to the list of charges, that sounds great. But Matt and Trevor follow, because there's not really another option.

Inside the apartment, Jeremy's mask is gone. The suit is quickly disappearing as well, revealing a rather boring outfit of a white tank top and...sweatpants? The true mystery lies in where the cowboy hat has gone to, because that's a hard item to miss.

'do we really have time for this? don't you think someone might, oh, i don't know, wake up and call the cops?'

Trevor doesn't mean to hiss, it's just that he's sure there's more pressing matters to attend to than an outfit change. Continuing to flee, perhaps.

'nobody's gonna wake up.'

They don't even have the wherewithal to lower their voice. It registers to Trevor that Jeremy's bag and gun are missing as well. Had they dropped them on the way up? It was certainly possible. Trevor thinks he would have noticed a gun flying past his head, but there's a lot going on.

'can we maybe not kill anyone? he brought up a good point with that felony murder thing.'

It's the most words Matt has strung together since he'd shown up. It's damn near a whisper, but at least it's progress.

'i'm not- god, can you two shut up? i gotta make a phone call.'

Jeremy yanks the door open, hand carefully wrapped in the fabric of their shirt. For a moment, Trevor thinks they're leaving and steps forward to follow Jeremy. Instead, Jeremy turns and heads toward the kitchen, pulling open a drawer and digging inside it briefly. They come back with a cell phone.

Something dawns on Trevor.

'is this- do you live here? did you break your own window?'

Jeremy doesn't answer. They put the phone to their ear.

'you're gonna wanna hide whatever you've got. and try not to look like you just climbed in through a window.'

And then-

'hello? yes, hi, i'd like to report a break in, i think? i was hearing a bunch of sirens and then i don't know what happened but some guy just broke my window? he ran through and i just- my friends and i are really scared and we didn't know what to do- yes, we're ok, he's gone, but we- you'll send someone? ok, thank you. the address? oh, uh, it's the del perro heights building, apartment 7. should i shut the door? no, don't touch anything. ok- guys, don't touch anything, she said someone's on their way to check on us! thank you so much- no, i think we'll be fine. thank you.'

It's a marvelous performance. Jeremy genuinely sounds like some poor flustered victim of a crime. Trevor would applaud if he thought Jeremy would appreciate it. Almost immediately, their voice is back to normal.

'check things out my ass. they're gonna show up, ask which way he went and never call me again. feel real fuckin safe.'

Jeremy settles themself onto the couch, choosing the spot closest to the door. Matt, who has apparently gotten over his initial terror, wanders into the kitchen. Searching for something to distract himself, if Trevor had to guess. Trevor is still standing in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded. How did a simple robbery become hanging out with other robbers, waiting for cops to show up?

'i'm jeremy, by the way. they won't ask, but y'know. just in case.'

They're flipping channels on the tv, seeming to arbitrarily skip almost a dozen programs. Finally, they settle on one and stand. Trevor recognizes it as an old Disney movie, and desperately wants to ask why the fuck Jeremy has put this on.

'uh, hi. i'm trevor. why are we watching Mulan?'

'matt. oh hell yeah, i love this movie!'

He sounds remarkably cheerful, considering the circumstances. How Trevor had seemingly switched places with Anxious McGee is beyond him. He needs to get it together. He pulls his gun from his pocket and takes it to the kitchen, sticking it in the drawer Jeremy had taken the phone from. There are several other phones of varying price point. He steps back to the living room just in time.

'that's why.'

They don't elaborate. Apparently Trevor is meant to just figure this out on his own, which ordinarily he might be able to do. After the course of events of this particular evening? Not a chance.

But he can't ask, because now there's a cop in the doorway and he's staring at Trevor and that will never be a good thing. Trevor stares back. He has no clue what he's meant to say. Hello? Welcome? He went that way?

'oh thank god! we've been so terrified, we didn't know if he'd come back or what he'd do.'

Naturally, Jeremy has taken lead on this. They're a phenomenal actor, Trevor has to admit.

'did you see which direction he went?'

'toward the stairs, i think. we've all been rooted to the spot, you know, it's so scary-'

Matt freezes in the doorway of the kitchen. He's just out of the view from the front door.

'right, well. you boys did the right thing by calling. can you give me a description of the man?'

The corner of Jeremy's mouth quirks.

'gosh, it all just happened so fast. taller than me, probably, but shorter than you, wouldn't you say, trey?'

Trevor nods, because he's not quite sure what else to do.

'alright, thank you. someone will be in touch with you for an official statement. in the meantime, if you remember anything else don't hesitate to call.'

He's holding a card out to Trevor, of all people. He takes it carefully, like if he does it wrong somehow the guy will know and arrest them all. The card is simply the number for a tip line.

As suddenly as he'd arrived, the cop is gone and they're all breathing sighs of relief. Jeremy closes the door.

'you guys can stay for Mulan, if you want.'

So they do.

Trevor asks about why Mulan again, and Jeremy explains that they assume most people have seen it, could answer any questions about it if they came up. Perhaps, if LSPD officers were less incompetent, they would have. Although if that were the case, they wouldn't be LSPD officers at all.

Matt asks about the window, and Jeremy says yes, they did break their own window. Of course they'd had an actual plan when they'd entered the alley. They were always going to end up exactly here, give or take the extras. Asking for a plan was simply a test, determining the merit in bring them along. They'd passed.

Jeremy asks if they want to stay for Mulan II, which is apparently up next. They do.

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the early morning hours of a Wednesday, three convenience stores are recovering from three separate robberies. Right in the middle of them all, their respective robbers are sitting on a couch together, watching a straight to video children's film.

It is the beginning of something far greater than any of them can imagine.

[kyidyl]

Kyidyl Does Archaeology - Part 4

(As before, if you’re only seeing this part 4, the rest of them have the tag KyidylCL)

THE ARTEFACTS

Ok, so I’ve talked about the site and what we’ve been digging in and such, but I’m gonna be honest with you guys: I like lab work exponentially more than field work.  So I am the one who has been processing the vast majority of the finds and ergo have lots of stuff.  That’s why I sometimes make jokes about the stuff in my basement - I’m storing the majority of it here in my basement.  I’ve gotten the question before about ownership, so here is how that works.  The dig is on private land so anything we get technically belongs to the owner of the land.  Now, as far as I know, he has no interest in keeping any of it so it’ll likely end up in the hands of the arch society, who will basically just be custodians of it but not owners.  It might end up in a museum, too.  I don’t really know, but that determination won’t be made until we’re finished, and not by me.  

So every site has its own sort of categories of stuff that you find depending on who lived there (although for ease, archaeologists often categorize this stuff based on location and time - more on that later.).  For our site the majority of it falls into these categories: animal bone, shell, lithics, pottery, charcoal, modern contaminants, and artefacts.  And, to lend a bit of clarity here...lithics are anything made of rock.  So they include fire cracked rocks, flakes from stone tool making, material that was used in construction, material that was crushed to make temper for pottery paste (more on that later, too.), etc.  If it came from a rock it’s a lithic.  

And imma tell you a secret: I hate lithics.  Everyone has their thing, their category of human refuse that they simply do not like.  A prof of mine hated teeth and pottery.  That’s just how it is, and mine is lithics.  I think they’re boring, I can’t tell a flake from a blade, I don’t give a single fuck what material they are, I don’t care about the style or craftsmanship...I just don’t care.  I call them all rocks, and I do it so much that everyone on the site has started accidentally calling them rocks, too, which amuses me.  Rocks, to an archaeologist, means “stone that wasn’t altered or used by people”.  They’re worthless.  Not that I think lithics are worthless - far from it - I just really hate them and this site has so.  goddamned.  many.  Lucky for me, we have a Rock Guy aka someone who really loves lithics and actually has gotten pretty good at flint knapping and just, y’know, is really into rocks.  

And to clarify about artefacts.  When you’re out in the field everything you find is either an artefact or a find.  The collection of these things is called an assemblage.  When you’re doing lab work and sorting through it all later on an artefact is, well...like a thing.  I’m explaining this poorly....it’s a complete object with a specific function.  So, a whole pot = artefact, broken pieces = sherds (not shards, sherds.). Complete arrowhead = artefact, flakes or a broken one = lithic.  Artefacts also tend to be somewhat unique, or at least something you don’t have a lot of.  They don’t always have to be complete, anything that is a specific object can go in here.  Like, for example, this piece of pipe we found: 

To recap, we’ve got pottery, charcoal, lithics, shell, bone (animal - we haven’t found human. But I’m just gonna say bone.), and artefacts.  If you are sensitive to things like that, this is your warning that this post is going to have pictures of animal bone and you should scroll quickly.  

Now, for reference, this is what it all looks like before I clean it and after it’s been dying out for a day or two (the ground has natural moisture, so I basically just open the bags and let them air out.): 

And, yes....I am cleaning them off on an actual antique blotter with real silver edges that my mom gave me for this express purpose.  A factoid I’m only sharing because it amuses me in that sort of “bet they never envisioned this use for this thing” sort of way.  Normally, if I was in a real lab, you’d do this over a metal tray.  When you’re working with an assemblage you never hold it over empty space, you always hold it over the bench and preferably over whatever your work surface is.  That doesn’t mean I haven’t dropped my fair share of stuff anyway, but most of it just lands on the work surface and not the floor, which is why you hold it over a work surface.  But anyway, as you can see, it just looks like a brown, dirty mess.  I usually do a quick sort of the stuff I know for sure what it is and then I wash it with a soft toothbrush and some water.  The rocks I just submerge and swoosh around because they’re rocks and I can’t really damage them and there’s SO FRIKKIN MANY that I refuse to clean them individually.  

So now that you’ve gotten through that long-winded but necessary explanation of terms, where are we at? Since I’m a bioarchaeologist and I prefer things that were once alive to the general detritus of human society, we’re gonna start with the bone.  Specifically, we’re gonna start with how I know those two pits from yesterday’s post are one pit.  This is how: 

This is a deer bone.  Don’t ask me which one bc I’m really not good at ID’ing species and animal anatomy, but it’s a leg bone of some kind.  See how it’s broken? One piece was found in one hole and the other piece was in the other.  Clearly it’s the same animal, ergo the pits are related to each other.  The vast majority of what came out of that particular feature was bone, with the rest being charcoal and the occasional pot sherd.  This means it was probably used for cooking and not as a garbage pit. Also there was food in it, if you recall the cooking accident from yesterday.  but sometimes y’know, stuff falls into the fire pit or it’s put in there as a way of disposing of it.  

But wait, I have more cool animal bones!! 

Ok, so there’s this one: 

This bone has a special place in my heart. IDK what species it is (I *think* it’s a fragment of deer long bone.), but that’s not why it’s cool.  This single bone is strong evidence for the presence of dogs.  =D See that circular mark on the right? That is the impression of a canine tooth from a carnivore.  Human teeth can’t make those marks in bones - our teeth aren’t strong enough to do significant damage to bone, and anyway we tend to crack bones open with rocks (a form of damage called percussion marks.) and not with our teeth.  Those other longer scratch marks are also likely from chewing, not butchery, because they’re in the right places and they’re the right shape.  Now we know this was a settlement, and this bone was found smack in the middle surrounded by human detritus and not on the fringes or outskirts.  There were no domesticated felines in the Americas at the time BC this is from the lower pre-contact level, so what’s really the only carnivore that would be wandering around a human settlement? Dogs.  I love this kinda stuff because it’s so easy see them chilling around the fire pit, talking and eating, teasing whomever it was that spilled dinner, and then tossing the bones to their dogs to gnaw on after dinner.  It’s just such a people kind of thing, you know? All from one small, circular mark.  I actually found more on later bones that came out of other places, so it’s pretty safe to say there were dogs living here with their people even though we have found neither people nor dogs.  

So here’s another cool bone: 

Again, no idea what species it is bc I’m not a zooarch (yes, there are archaeologists that specialize in animals and wooooo boy can they tell you a LOT about migration and eating habits of people.). It’s about the size of half my thumb, IE, not large.  This one is cool, and it’s the only one I have like this, because of that notch you can see vertically in the image on the right hand side.  I don’t know what it was for, but I DO know that it was an intentionally made modification to the bone.  Those striations aren’t natural - natural bone is smooth or has a very specific texture and this isn’t that.  It’s probably not damage done to the bone after it was deposited in the archaeological record.  It has the same patina as the majority of the rest of the bone, which you can compare to the lighter area there on the right hand end of the bone.  That lighter area does not have the patina of age that the rest of the bone does, and is the result of damage in a much more recent time - probably as we were taking it out of the ground.  Small bones are fragile.  So someone gouged this channel intentionally in this bone, either because they were going to use it as decoration or it served some purpose as a tool.  I’m not really sure what though.  Hell, they could have just been bored and fidgeting after eating.  Either way, it’s a human modification to this bone that has nothing to do with cooking or consumption (damage from human consumption is cracks and breaks, not scrapes.).  It could also be a butchery mark, although it’s a bit deep for that.  Butchery marks are there from separation of meat from bone - they’re usually just shallow scrapes.  

Ok, last cool bone I’m gonna show you.  Well, bones, plural.  

Ok so this is part of the same assemblage as the ones above, and if I remember correctly these were the ones that came out of that pit.  You can see the same bone with the canine tooth mark there in the center.  There’s also some interesting things like some pottery on the left and a couple teeth off to the right (one is a deer and I *think* that curved on is a squirrel.), but the really interesting thing is the series of 3 shiny bones that are in the center.  There’s a lot of ways to cook meat, and they all do different things to bones.  You will often find the dry, brown looking ones like you can see here in the non-shiny bones. That’s like...your basic “this bone had meat on it when it was cooked”. Then you’ll see ones that are black, and that’s “this bone probably didn’t have meat when it was cooked, or someone tossed it back in the fire when they were done”. Lastly, you’ll see white bone, and that’s a bone that has been burned at a high temperature for a long time.  Usually it’s done on purpose (you can use burned, powdered bone to make stuff.).  

But the shiny ones were in a soup.  And the reason I know that is *because* they’re shiny.  Bones, especially old ones, aren’t shiny.  I mean...you can see that.  You have to do stuff to ‘em.  And bones are porous, but those weren’t.  They felt like hard plastic. And they get that way by being boiled.  The shiny patina is what we call pot polish - they were stirred in the soup while it was cooking and rubbed against the side of the pot and each other, and it gives them a smoother texture.  

All of these collections of bones tell us what and how they ate things.  I know from what I can ID here (which isn’t everything, trust me.) that they ate a lot of deer and wild turkey (we have an entire almost completely intact turkey long bone.). There is also, I believe, squirrel (I found a portion of a skull and jaw that I’m pretty sure belong to a squirrel), and an assortment of other small rodents and birds.  Lots of birds.  Bird bone is really distinctive, it’s light and the spongy bone has a distinct texture.  A zooarchaeologist can look at bones like this and ID species and age, and from there tell you what time year something was probably killed.  Societies that hunted a lot tended to do it seasonally so that they wouldn’t damage the populations.  Plus especially with fish and stuff they have very specific growing cycles and short lifespans, so they can also tell you a lot about where the people were hunting and when.  Like certain fish will only spawn in certain places, so it’s really informative.  Zooarchs are so important and there just aren’t enough of them.  

Anyway, there are other cool things in the bones but I’m trying to strike a balance here between too much and not enough and I really love bone so I’m going to stop here for today.  Tomorrow is going to be other artefacts (yeah, sadly, even lithics, lol), and what they tell us about the site and the people who lived there.   As an aside: if anyone has any like just general “how do they know this?” sort of questions about history and archaeology those would be fun to answer.  I love to tell people how we do things but I don’t just wanna infodump.  I DO want to explain procedure in what I hope is a readable way because I think understanding how we make the sausage will help people have more trust in science.  So if you have any questions, please, send asks.  If I don’t know the answer I’ll research it or pass it on to someone who does.  

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 7 - Finale

Summary:

It all comes down to this. Will Frank be able to make things right?

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference, angst

Tag requests: @direwolfspostsrandomshit

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 5 | Chpt 6 Warnings: strong language, age difference, and references to depression like symptoms and past childhood trauma

Another hour passes. Another beer down.

The television drones on in the background while he stares right through it. Why is he even watching this? He hates TV.

He should be training today, maybe the gym or the firing range, but… He just doesn’t feel like it.

His stomach growls. He looks at the clock. He should get something to eat, but… He doesn’t feel like that either.

At last the cramping moves him to action, and sluggishly he gets up and wanders to the kitchen. He grabs his go-to as of late, a bag of chocolate chips for baking. His diet’s been such shit lately, and he knows it’s not helping. He hates that. And he loves it. Because right now he’ll do anything just to get even a flicker of feeling.

Good. Bad. He doesn’t care.

He just wants to feel.

It’s been a couple weeks since he last saw you, out back behind the CIA gym, and he’s been numb ever since. Mason’s been trying to bring him out of it all this time.

‘You did the right thing’, he says. ‘She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she’s doing’, and then, ‘If anything, you did her a favor. She doesn’t really want to get caught up like that with an old guy, right?’, he laughs.

He eats another handful of chocolate and looks down at himself. ‘She doesn’t want to...’ Is he really that repulsive? He runs a hand over his belly. It’s been feeling more rounded than usual.

Fuck.

For a moment, that same old burning, consuming flare of fury he’s so used to getting rises up. He grips the plastic bag so tightly, his knuckles turn white.

His discipline has been getting looser and his belt has been getting tighter, the polar fucking opposite of how things should be. His nostrils flare and lips draw back to reveal tightly clenched teeth, like a dog readying for an attack. Every muscle in his body tenses as he bores holes into nothing in particular. He starts to cock his arm back.

Throwing something will help him feel better.

Right?

He aims for the wall and winds up for an all star pitch, and then…

and then…

He can’t even muster the motivation for that.

As quickly as it came, the anger leaves, and as he lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his entire body relaxes once more. What the fuck is wrong with him anyway?

What, mommy and daddy didn’t love him enough, so now he throws little tantrums whenever the fuck he feels like it? He mocks himself, feeling almost ashamed suddenly of all his outbursts, but when he thinks about it…

Yeah.

Maybe that...

He sighs, suddenly feeling extremely defeated and very alone. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised you left him. Everyone else who ever loved him did.

Woods drops the bag of chocolate from his limply hanging arm and watches the pieces scatter and roll all over the floor.

Whatever. He’ll eat something else.

This is how it’s been for weeks and this how it’ll be for the foreseeable future. He lazes around, completely numb to the outside world, grazing his pantry and doing anything to distract himself from his thoughts. If only any of it worked. Then at night he’ll lay awake well past midnight, until either regular exhaustion or exertion from shedding tears sends him to sleep.

But it wasn’t always like this.

After the first few days since he chased you off, he tried to make up for it.

He called.

He tried to see you at work.

He even sent you some fucking flowers and a letter.

Not a word back.

Well, aside from the ‘Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you fucking dare come back’ he got when he came to your office. After that one…

He hasn’t cried that hard over a woman in… Well… Ever.

And that’s what really gets to him, isn’t it? Just a woman. You’re just a fucking woman. There’s billions of others out there… And yet, he can’t manage to land even one, can he?

This message plays back in his mind over, and over, and over again.

Even now, as a slow stream of tears leak from his eyes to his pillowcase. He looks over just a few inches away to the empty half of his bed. Frank sniffs and swipes at his nose before gently plopping his hand on the pillow beside his. The fabric is icy cold against his skin.

You know, Alex told him once that he’ll lay in his wife's spot on the bed to warm up the sheets for her at night.

She hates the cold, and Alaskan nights are no joke. Would you like that? He wonders. He heard once that women are always fucking cold. He’d warm up your sheets for you, you know. Or maybe, you’d like a blanket? He’d get you one. A nice one! Fresh and new, not any of the tattered shit he keeps in his linen closet.

Or, maybe, you’d like it more if he just… Held you? He could keep you warm all by himself if you wanted him to. Would you even like him to?

Would that make you happy?

Would he make you happy?

A fresh round of tears breaks over him.

He closes his eyes and curls in on himself as he lets the sobs take over him. Damn it, he promised himself he wouldn’t do this again… He thinks about you far too much. All the time, really. And where does it get him? Somewhere about like he is now, he supposes.

He stews in his own wretchedness like this for quite some time, and it’s not until a few days later that anything changes.

Mason pounds on the door of the dingy little house, “Frank?”, he calls, “Frank, open up you bastard, I know you’re in there!”

Truthfully, he’s only in town on some work related business, but… He can’t just stand by and let his friend suffer like this.

So, he waits and waits, and pounds and pounds until he's sure the door is about to come off the hinges. Mason cups his hands to the crack of the door, shouting into it as loud as he dare, “I’m not leaving until you come out here asshole!”

At last, a quiet voice comes from the other side, “What do you want?”

For a moment, Mason is rather dumbfounded. Never before has he ever heard his friend sound so soulless. So… broken. He shakes his head, and pulls himself out of it, “Frank will you open up? I’m here to check on you man!”

Woods sighs, “Don’t waste your time”, the voice trails off as though he’s walking away.

“Hey!”, Mason pounds on the door again, “Son of a bitch, get back here!”

The door swings open abruptly, and Mason nearly falls over as the door’s taken out from him. He stumbles a moment, then catches himself as he stands up straight.

Mason locks eyes with his old friend, and Woods says nothing. Alex takes in the sight of him. His stubble is out of control, the bags under his eyes are dark and purple, and the undershirt he’s wearing could’ve used a wash about a week ago.

“Jesus…You look like shit”

“Thanks”, Woods replies flatly, “Now go away”

He makes to close the door, but Mason stops him, “Wait wait wait… Ok, I’m sorry, I just… Wow, um… Can I come in at least? Let’s talk about this”, Alex motions to Woods in his entirety.

“Do I have a choice?”

Mason pushes the door all the way open, letting himself in and taking his friend by the shoulders as he leads him further into the house, “No, we’re having a fucking intervention”

He leads him to the living room and clears a pile of clothes and trash off the cushions so they can sit down. Alex commands his friend to take a seat, then follows suit. Once they’re both settled, Mason grows serious but maintains a cautious, sympathetic veneer.

Mason rubs his hands together and gives it to him straight, “Look, I know you feel like you fucked up. I know you’re feeling lonely and it’s got you in the dumps. But… Come on man, look what’s been going on with you!”, He gestures to the living space around them.

Dirty laundry and neglected trash sit in little piles all around in a room that smells of old must with a faint, queasy scent of booze. “This is no way to live, buddy!”

Frank says nothing. Instead, he sits and listens without even attempting to make eye contact, like a child receiving a tiresome lecture.

Alex grits his teeth and tries to keep his temper in check. “So… What I’m trying to say is…. Maybe you need to get out of here, you know? Go to a game, take a vacation, something!”, he scoots a bit closer, taking on a more personal tone with his old friend, “I don’t want to see you destroy yourself like this Frank…”

Woods recoils at that, snapping to life as though he’d just now entered the conversation, “I’m not! I just… I need some time to get over this, alright!”

Mason casts an exaggeratedly doubtful look at the other man. Frank jumps to defend himself once more, but Alex cuts him off, “Ok ok! How about this, let’s you and me go out for a little bit huh? Have some beers, some guy time! I just want you to get out of this place for a little while, is that so bad?”

Frank grumbles a bit, but somewhere in there is an agreement. Mason cheers, "That's the spirit!", and drags his friend upstairs to clean up. He pushes him off to shave and shower before going downstairs to help himself to the kitchen.

It takes far longer than he anticipated, but Alex doesn’t go up to pressure the old Sargent even once. At last, the staircase creaks softly as Woods descends. He looks like a new man. Clean clothes, shaped up beard, and a gentle wafting of clean, musky shampoo emanating from him.

Woods walks up without much fanfare for himself, but Alex offers him a smile and a firm pat on the back, “There, now isn’t that better? You look great!”

Frank grunts and perhaps even mutters a thank you, but Mason is too busy trying to keep the momentum up. Once more, he drags his friend along and out to the car. The sun is starting to set and options for places to go are beginning to dwindle. Woods wonders where they’re going, and yet as the streets race by, he finds himself caring less and less.

By the time the car comes to a stop, he’s nearly fallen asleep.

Mason turns off the engine and shakes him awake, “Hey don’t fall asleep on me now, we’re just getting started!”

Woods snaps awake, but has to shield his eyes immediately. It seems impossibly bright out considering how late it is. He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes. Once they're fully adjusted, he finds that what he sees does nearly nothing to alleviate his confusion.

Before him stands the front of a pulsating night club. Blue and purple neon blaze in the dusky twilight. He can only imagine how they must look in the dead of night. A pounding beat comes from somewhere within, no doubt the drum track to some popular, modern song. Small clusters of younger people and a handful of adults hang around the doors pregaming for what they must be anticipating to be a long, wild night.

The pair get out of the car, but Woods is bewildered all the while. When Alex finally comes around to him, he can’t keep silent any longer, “What the fuck did you bring me here for?”

Mason seems almost taken aback, “For some fun? Come on, I know this isn’t really your scene but maybe that’s exactly what you need! Something new and fun, right?”, he doesn’t wait for a response, instead he pushes his friend along as they head towards the entrance.

The air seems thick and hazy around him, a fact only highlighted by the glowing miasma created by the neon interior. If Alex wasn’t pulling him along, he’s sure he’d get lost.

Alex takes him over to a table buried back in the corner. They take a seat and despite being right across from each other, Mason nearly has to shout to be heard over all the noise, “Want a drink?”

Woods thinks about it for a moment, still taking in the environment as he does so. He’s trying to find the bar, and when he does he figures it’s impossible to miss. A huge back wall of glass bottles, all lit up by a halo of purple neon and cool fluorescent lights stands bright as a beacon behind a solid bar top and array of stools and customers.

“Sure, I can get my own”

“Great! Hey, grab my usual would ya? I’m gonna take a leak real quick”, he points over his shoulder and excuses himself as he makes for the restrooms.

This… is not at all what he wanted.

Suddenly, Woods feels trapped and alone again, no better than he was back in his own home. Except now he’s surrounded by the heat, noise, and stench of over a hundred other people.

The lights feel heavy and blinding, the pulsating pop music, deafening. He trudges up to the bar slowly yet surely, but with every step he comes closer to committing to his plan of escaping back to Alex’s car.

He never should’ve went along with this… he was just fine at home, damn it.

Lost in his thoughts and half blinded by the smoke and lights, he runs smack into another person. With a dampened thud, they hit the ground hard. Wood swears under his breath and figures he can at least offer a hand. He bends down to help up the fallen individual, only to see…

You.

Suddenly, it’s as if all the haze and fog has cleared from his eyes. He can see you clear as day down here, and the noise and smells of the crowd all fade away. A soft blue glow highlights your features, and an electric magenta bounces off your hair. The sparkling, sequined little dress you wear glitters in the halo of light descending around you, and a thousand flecks of light reflect back onto his worn, tired face.

Woods' hand hangs in mid air, half way through it’s journey to assist you. He whispers your name, quietly and fondly, as though he never thought he’d see you again.

For the first time in what must have been days, a smile breaks free from his stern glower.

But all you see is the asshole who teased you along for weeks, only to give you the highest embarrassment by sending you off like a misbehaving child after you were at your most vulnerable with him.

You were ready to give him your very body, and he only felt up what he wanted and sent you off.

With a sneer, you slap his hand away and hop up on your own. You don’t even bother to spare him a word. Instead, you stare daggers into him and walk off.

For a moment. For a second time… He watches you go.

He should let you walk away.

After what he did, you deserve at least the privacy. And that’s aside from the fact that you’re clearly pissed.

But he can’t. Not again.

“Hey, wait!”, he dashes after you, shoving his way through the crowd. A little too roughly, he grabs your upper arm and spins you around. You yank yourself free from his grip and glare right through him. Even through all the rage…

You look so beautiful in this light.

“I… I- uh. Hey”

“Hey?”, your blood is boiling. Is that all he has to say for himself?

The venom in your voice makes him recoil, shrinking back into himself. But still… “I uh, I just… H-how are you… I didn’t think you’d be in a place like this, heh…”

Out of pure manners, you respond, “Fine. What are you doing here?”, you cross your arms, defensive, but genuinely curious.

Woods looks over his shoulder then all round, searching for any sign of Mason. Nothing. He snaps his attention back to you, trying to come up with any reason at all to explain himself. Frank stutters for an answer, but you end your indulgent lapse before he can say anything coherent and turn to walk away.

“Wait! I… I-I miss you...”

You whip around, seething with anger. Then, very seriously, you ask, “Are you following me?”

“What? No! Fuck no! I just… I miss you, that’s all!”

You scoff, “Well maybe you should’ve fucking thought of that first”

“...You’re right”

That stops you dead. This is nothing like the Woods you know… You can’t recall a single time he’s had the humility, let alone the balls, to admit that he’s wrong.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah…”, he sighs, and even in the darkness of the club you can see a glimpse of just how much pain he’s in, “Look… I shouldn’t have done that, back there behind the gym. You trusted me and I fucked it up. I know. It’s just… I was scared”

A biting edge creeps back into your voice. You don’t buy that. “Scared? Of what, getting caught?”

“What? No! I was scared… that I was taking advantage of you, alright?”

You blink, and suddenly all the rage leaves you, as though the hot air was deflated right out of you. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well I mean… You know… Y-you’re just a kid, and I’m… not. I just- It didn’t feel right. Hell, I didn’t even get a chance to ask if you really wanted all that, I just… went for it”

You take a little step closer, your hard gaze softening just a touch, “Well… It’s not like I was saying no”, you chuckle

“Yeah, but that’s not the fucking same, you know?”

You look away, “Yeah…”

“So… Anyway… I’m sorry, alright?”

At last, you turn back and smile at him, “Alright. I forgive you, and… thanks. For saying that”

Woods nods and accepts your thanks. The two of you share a little smile and a short pause of uncertain silence until he breaks the silence, “So… What now?”

You look him up and down. He’s wearing jeans and a tightly fitting flannel, a stark contrast to all the trendy, flashy fashion of the rest of the clubbers, and yet it’s so… him. You trace a finger down his limp, tattooed arm, stopping at his fingers to intertwine them with yours.

“How about a dance?”, you tug his hand gently, then nod towards the dance floor.

A feeling like euphoria washes over him, and time seems slow as he floats along while you tug him through the crowd. Somewhere in the beautiful, prismatic show of lights, he hears himself agree. You lead him to a cramped, but vacant spot on the glowing dance floor and turn an ear to the music, “Hey, I love this song…”

Woods perks up to listen, just in time to catch the start of More Than A Woman, muffled slightly by all the noise and bustle of the crowd.

It’s like it’s playing from within a dream.

You rest your hands on his chest, letting them slide down so that the heels of your palms sit where the curve of his stomach begins to swell out. Frank has his hands on your waist, swaying in time with you slowly to the music. He clears his throat and looks away from your sparkling, gorgeous eyes, a nervous blush creeping up his neck.

He knows you’ve been over this before, but… “Yeah, uh… so, you know, I’ve been thinking I should lose some weight... You know, while you’ve been… gone”, he moves your hands up from his belly to clasp behind his neck.

You quirk up your brow, a confused smile on your lips, “Why?”

“Uh, I don’t know… I think it makes me look old, I guess”

You laugh and come a little closer, your bodies nearly touching, “Well, if it means anything... I don’t think so”, You inch up and kiss his cheek, bringing one hand down to rest on his softened pect. He huffs a nervous laugh and masks the flattered embarrassment with a timid smile as he covers your hand with his, holding it there just a little while more.

He's never forgotten how amazing your touch alone feels.

He clears his throat and re-establishes eye contact. A whole kaleidoscope of color plays inside your eyes. He could get lost in them for the rest of his life. “You uh… wow. You- you look beautiful tonight...”, he steals a quick glance as your little, sparkly dress and the neon rainbow refracting off the thousands of tiny sequins, “Nearly gave this old man a heart attack when I first saw you”, he laughs.

“Oh?”, you smirk and lead him into a turn, “ In that case, you should see me take it off”

His heart pounds underneath your palm, but his face looks frozen with surprise. He doesn’t hear women say that kind of stuff to him often…

“D-do you… Do you mean that?”

“Well, I mean… Maybe after this, I’d love t-”

“No, not that. I mean… Me. D-do you really feel that way about me?”

You stop dancing for a moment.

His words cut deeply with the quiver of hope they carry, as though it had never crossed his mind that someone would want to be with him.

“Of course I do. But… I want you more then just for that you know”, you chuckle.

His cheeks go pink, “Oh. Damn, so you like that kind of st-?”

You place a single finger to his lips, shushing him. “I meant… I love you”

Your words echo back to him in slow motion, as though reality and time itself are breaking all around him to unveil a haven of euphoria. His heart is beating in his ears, and yet it sounds slow and calm, just like the wild crowd and the blaring music all around him.

Everything grows quieter and softer until it all fades away, leaving behind just you and him.

He wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time he heard those words, only to come up empty handed. It’s been so long… He can’t even remember.

Frank looks back at you, a little neon angel clinging to his beat up old shirt. Gorgeous. That’s all he can think of when he sees you. He almost feels like he shouldn't even have the privilege to do so. You bat long lashes up at him and a slow smile draws across your soft, glossy lips.

More than a woman…

Slowly, you come up to meet your lips to his. You’ve kissed before, but this… It feels like the first kiss of his entire life.

He presses back gently, sucking softly as he draws you close. You smell like dark cherry and amber, some combination of perfume and lip gloss. The faint smell of whisky and musk radiating off of him mingles with the divine scent of you.

He can taste it all on his tongue, even as he slides it over to flick across yours.

More than a woman to me…

At long last you part, breathing softly as your eyes drift up to meet one another's. And when he looks down into those deep, glittering pools, he wonders how he never saw all the love and warmth they hold for him. The love they always had.

“I love you too…”, he whispers, tears stinging at his eyes and voice, before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

And now? The love they always will.