#rain's fanfics

[huneyrain]

' ' let's keep dancing (to a place beyond our dreams) ' '

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

also on ao3 // word count: 6,195 // bachisagi 1/1 fluff fic

TL;DR :: Isagi is a competitive ballroom dancer, stuck to following the rules and denying his true instincts. One competitive night, and a certain monstrous boy, tears it all down to rebuild anew.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

Footsteps clashed against the waxed wooden floors, the music overpowering the creaks of an ancient building as fingers interlaced. Rhythmic movements followed each beat, the song’s slow melody lulling the dancers into security as they spun around each other, bright lights beating down from above. They shone like stars above the Earth, but rather, in front of the crowd, the stage their personal galaxy as they attempted with all their capabilities to dazzle the planets watching. 

Onlookers sat still, nestled in cushioned theater seats as the dancers glided across the stage, black strands of hair blowing across one’s face while they focused on their assigned partner. 

Any viewer would expect a climactic moment— the song’s tune peaking just as the performers pulled off a magnificent stunt, dazzling the audience with an unforgettable show. A couple to step out of the status quo; a couple to give in to their ego. 

The song tapered off, with both performers panting, blue eyes shining beneath dark bangs as they bowed.

This show was not that show. 

“Isagi Yoichi,” they called out, a booming voice overflowing from speakers across the auditorium. “7.9 out of 10. Please bring out the next contestants.”

That was that. Follow your routine, Isagi.

Contained egoism had left him mediocre among the sea of creativity.

════════════════

Isagi fell defeatedly onto his bed, still dressed in black-tie attire from his underwhelming competition. Ankles and feet ached, legs helplessly sore, although he was too exhausted to lift them up entirely onto the bed— rather, he threw a pillow over his face, hair frazzled from the static and sweat clinging to the strands. 

“I can’t believe I lost,” he groaned, the cushiony pillow muffling his words into incoherent nonsense. “We had choreographed it so perfectly.” 

Mundanely, his mind mocked him, nestling himself further into his soft, welcoming grave, his pure intentions to do nothing more than rot for the night in his disappointingly-wasted outfit; at least, he saw it as wasted, without a win. 

He couldn’t avoid the fact, his heart aching, held back in chains as he tended to do. 

“Dance is an art, a strategy, a plan. You can’t go off script— remember that.”

He’d supposed he’d followed instructions— he thought about it more often than he wished he would. 

Puppet strings tugged at his heart, his brain, his limbs, controlling each move on the stage according to a predetermined program, his freedoms drained as he claws for the prize. The prize, the glory, the excitement lies just beyond his reach, and frankly, out of sight; an image of potential greatness muddled beneath the faces of competition and judges alike, all aiming to stand in his way. 

Something inside of him ached for more than that end.

A sigh parted Isagi’s lips, hair strands clinging with static to the pillowcase as he pulled away, sitting up on the edge of his bed. Fingers with finely-painted black nails interlaced with his matching tie, undoing the knot that held the accessory’s composure before slipping the smooth fabric across his hands. He found himself entirely consumed in thought, unaware of his own actions as he lost himself within his mind while continuing his post-competition routine. 

Hot water splashed his hands, a wince escaping him as he pushed up just an inch on the dial in response, perfecting the temperature. Blue eyes blankly stared as the water collected, foaming up beneath the spout with the aggression at which the water flowed into the bath. A sprinkle of epsom salts and a short pour of bath oil splashed in, now-free hands carefully folding up removed clothing before lowering the man’s aching body into the sweet spa he’d created. He hissed as the scalding water brushed against bare skin, adjusting to the heat as it soothed his aching muscles and put his mind to ease. 

As he settled into his newfound comfort, leaning forward just to turn off the faucet, a gentle but firm knock interrupted his peace. 

“Yoichi?”

He groaned, sinking further into a watery escape; he obviously recognized the voice, even through the door.

“What’s up, mom?”

“The mail just came; you got this, uh—” He could hear her fidgeting with paper on the other end, along with the crinkling plastic of a letter window. “—this letter, it looks like it’s from a dance association!” 

Isagi’s eyes lit up, his demeanor shifting instantly as energy overflowed within him. His mom could certainly hear the abrupt splash of water , squeaking footsteps attempting to crawl their way out of a slippery situation.

“Holy sh— I mean, wow, really?” A towel quickly found itself in his hands, wrapped around himself snugly before swinging open the door. Wet footsteps trailed behind him, soaked strands of hair leaving beads of water on his face. He found himself holding the letter before his mother could even formulate a response, dots soaking through the thin paper as he ripped it open. 

Scanning over the page, he blinked wordlessly. 

You are invited to the World’s End Dancehall. 

. . . . . . .

“One night of ballroom dance… in hopes to ignite the Japanese dancing scene.” 

Words hung in the air as he reread over the letter, pacing back and forth in his room, hair still barely dry. His suit from earlier in the night was neatly folded atop his bed, the tie rolling from the pile to the floor as he sat down harshly beside it.

He grumbled as he continued muttering the instructions; “No bringing partners, come alone… How the hell does that make any sense?”

He set the paper frustratedly at his side, crinkling the page in his grip as his free hand pushed back his bangs, thumb rubbing over his temples to ease the tension. 

“They just expect us to… click with someone?” 

The formula wouldn’t like that. His freedom-driven heart would love that. 

He straightened out the now-creased paper, studying the letter with thoughtful intent.

When’s the date? Tomorrow— Sunday night. Attire? Dress to impress. The only rule? Don’t be fucking boring.

“Harsh,” he muttered, hurt. It’s ballroom dancing— can it be anything but boring? His spiteful attitude fed into his body, tensing his grip as he scanned the words to read through the last bit.

A dancer is only as good as their partner— find one that sets your heart ablaze. 

Half-crumpled paper fluttered to the floor as the young man stormed to his wardrobe, an aggressive touch rifling through outfits in sheer determination. His eyes seemed to shine a new emotion, feverish pupils darting across fabric, no piece seemingly good enough. A hand sunk into his hair, pushing it back with a rough grip atop his head. Isagi looked back to the letter he’d let fall to the ground, a newfound surge of energy.

“Fucking ridiculous. I’ll do it.” 

════════════════

The seventeen-year-old found himself wandering, car keys rattling in his hand as the other held up a map— if the mindlessly scribbled directions on the bottom corner of an invitation could even be called that. Tall blades of grass and weeds that grew amongst them brushed against his wrists, the only skin at that height not hidden beneath a smooth, blue-black suit. 

Black hair strands wisped out in front of his face, and he blew them away, the wind inevitably kicking them back moments later. Isagi, admittedly, was not one for fashion; this was not necessarily due to a disdain for it, but rather, a pure incompetence of the subject— how to accessorize properly, match colors, the like. It’s a fact he’d unfortunately accepted, struggling to find anything besides a standard outfit in his closet. 

Still though, with a night of Google searches and an ounce of his own creativity, he’d added his own touch. A blue vest was tight above a white undershirt, while his deep navy jacket rested at the forefront. The ultramarine bowtie he’d fished from his closet tied it together well, the shade mimicking the colors swirling in his eyes. Faint second thoughts crossed through him, nervous hands fidgeting with golden cufflinks. The dusty path beneath his feet soon turned to shimmering concrete. 

The once-distracted teenager glanced up, overgrown scenery flooding his vision, a grand hall in the center of an entirely abandoned area. Mind overcast with his own internal dialogue, he hadn’t even noticed the muttering of others, individuals all drawing closer to the location centered between them. Crowds gathered, pushing through the doors as if knowledgeable of their location— although, from more than just a second of observation, it was clear the masses were just as confused as he was. The moon granted the object of his curiosity a bit of light.

At first glance, the building that stood before him seemed a bit rickety and run-down, vines strewn along the supports as greenery overtook the bricks. It’d been painfully apparent the place was out of commission, at least until an odd party planner decided this to be the optimal hosting scene. He watched a number of attendees struggle over the cracked brick entryway, jagged rocks sticking out with weeds strewn about the concrete’s edges as the leading path broke off into the doorway. When it came his turn to walk through the passage, he made conscious note of the fractured spots beneath him, tip-toeing around them, for “a dancer with ruined shoes is no longer a dancer at all”. 

Perhaps that’d just been the instructions of his mom, ensuring as a young kid he’d kept his wares in good shape. He’d supposed, though, as his feet glided across the slick wood flooring that now met his stride, that a shoe with merely a crack could not allow for such smooth movement. His focus on the niceties distracted him from the intricate interior he stepped foot in. 

Gentle footsteps turned to screeching attempts to save balance as he felt himself meet the back of another, nearly toppling the both of them in the process. When he looked forward to apologize, he caught the cold glance of a black-haired boy nearly half a foot taller than him, and decided uttered words would be worse than simple silence to keep the peace. Though shaken, the incident turned his attention to the room expanding before him. 

Murmurs amongst the crowds bounced off the tall ceiling, a chandelier swinging with vibrations far above their heads. Odd knowledge of regalities told him it was Victorian – although it seemed to shine as if brand new, pulled out of the time from whence it was created to live out a life as an untimely, untouched masterpiece. Grand staircases curved in front of them, creating a cover around the doors standing far down the hall that well-dressed partygoers intermingled within. Royal red patterns detailed every wall, every crevice, every corner, with lengthy curtains draping over railings and empty wallspace longing to hold windows. Nearly every intricate detail of the interior felt medieval, aside from one glaring difference that, quite literally, stared them down—

Cameras. Dome cameras, pointed cameras swiveling on hinges, on a hunt; for each spot you felt secure, a camera could locate you, pinning down your exact footsteps and following closer than your shadow. The most prominent entries of the surveillance system projected their vision on a screen, hanging just behind the chandelier and just low enough to remain uncovered, although still being double Isagi’s own height above the floor. You could see each person projected above as they slowly raised their heads, the sudden shock hitting them as they struggled to decide whether they were the exhibition or the voyeurs. 

Isagi hadn’t noticed how thick the air grew as the crowd doubled, tripled, quadrupled into a horde. Shoulders bumped against each other, with little room but the alluring path that led down to the ballroom’s double-doors. Arms leaned on and hung over the railing’s edge above as they struggled finding space to fit into the decadent crowd. 

“Welcome, you unmolded lumps of coal.” 

. . . . . . .

Sudden silence fell over the crowd, the wind carrying whispers of spiteful remarks. Sharp hissing spat out from the speakers hidden amongst the walls, screens shifting from amorphous blobs of movement into a single view – one man, directing an expressionless glare at the lot below. 

His hair was a blatant mess, bangs brushing across the top of glasses hiding pupils behind their reflections. When he pushed one side of hair back, the cast of a ringlight bounced off of jewelry spotted across his fingers, rings that looked much too big for the thin frame of his hands. His lips could only seem to curl further down as he scowled. 

“Not used to disrespect, I see?” His voice was smooth, yet laced with an antagonizing bite. “Let’s keep in mind, the cameras do come with mics. Perhaps keep the bitterness to a minimum tonight.” 

His instructions quelled the crowd, the previous complainers shutting their mouths as their pride was quickly stripped. A few attendees cleared their throats as they struggled to bite their tongues.

The man projected above leaned back, as if he’d been seated in a rather-flexible computer chair. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? My name is Ego. You’ve all gathered here because you’ve received an invite — from Japan’s Professional Ballroom Dancers Association, no?”

Listeners below nodded along rather slow, and he continued.

“Yes, that’s right. Although, I’d say it was more from me than from them. The professional scouts were merely my pawns in deciding who’d get to play.”

Isagi let his focus wander across the countless heads surrounding him, trapping him in by height with his own suffocating thoughts. Simple frustration told him to cut his losses and leave with what unwasted time he’d still had left – but deep-hidden intrigue compelled him to stay. 

“You all read the letter,” Ego carried on, rolling his wrists as his hands spoke along with him. “We’re looking for a good duo, something that has to come naturally. If I saw you walk in with anyone,” his hands waved, as if shooing the crowd. “You’re disqualified. Get out.” 

The organizer groaned in the back of his throat as he saw a couple miniscule figures shifting through the crowd on the cameras, his disappointment apparent; his eyes read, however, that this was at least less work on his end. 

“Good. Carrying on— I had the Association’s scouts analyze you all individually. You’ve all presented in some sort of competition across the country; whether it was really an enjoyable performance or not is up for debate.”

Ouch. Isagi’s blank expression downturned into a frown. 

The negativity was quickly put out by the continuing monologue. “You roughly one-hundred individuals have all shown some level of promise, but you’re held back by the standards of being proper and prissy. The chains of formality are holding you back, and for most of you, it will continue that way.”

Murmuring ensued. “Struck a nerve?” The host taunted on, and for a moment, the first grin of the night had spread across his face. 

It was rather short-lived as he analyzed the reactions of his underlings. “It should have – unless your egos have all been replaced with a sorry excuse for people-pleasing.”

As he rambled on nonsensically about egoism and our supposedly pathetic talents, a figure stood half-visible beside the screen, just walking into frame and – assumably, based on his sudden shift and silence – mumbling something that held some level of importance. Her red-pink hair contrasted her highbrow appearance, a black suit top and long pencil skirt covered by a stack of carried papers. Ego nodded compliantly as a lanky, ring-adorned finger adjusted his glasses. 

“Right, time constraints; thank you, Anri.” 

Although apparently complaisant, a sigh slipped beneath his words. It’d seemed like he held an odd passion for this unusual competitive torment. 

“You all have one-hundred and eighty minutes — that’s roughly three hours, for those of you ill-educated. Two of you will go on to participate together with the Association— the rest of you are as good as dead. A majority of you here are coal, stuck to their destiny buried in some shitty kid’s stocking; but it takes immense pressure to turn near-coal into diamonds. If you’re not yet entirely molded, if your carbon molecules are still free enough to change, now is your time to shine. Or I suppose, if you’re all beyond saving, at least stoke a fire worth watching.”

Isagi felt the stilling of the crowd around him, following suit with his own mind. He couldn’t quite pinpoint when the words of the bastard behind the screen began to seem so appealing– but the silence only filled with harsh breathing led him to believe they all felt the same. 

“Your time starts now. Burn out, or burn bright.” 

The mesmerizing display fizzled away.

Seconds of confused glances were quickly met with answers, the doors down the hall swinging wide as the ballroom beckoned them in. The teen would say it seemed like magic, had his eye not caught the pass of a red hair wisp. 

A ticking above them caught his ear, and for a second, his focus shifted — a timer. One-hundred and eighty minutes. He’d hardly taken in the sight of it before the crowd’s forward movements swept him in. 

Time to make the most of it.

════════════════

The ballroom had been detailed just as decadent as the entryway, with the addition of marble arches patterned along the walls. The peculiar artistry had seemed to twist the room’s dimensions, the ceiling seeming to reach far into the sky with painted stars peppered across the sleek material. It’s as close as one could get to the outside, without (most) the disturbances of a modern reality. 

Tall windows stretched from top to bottom corners, although whatever reflected moonlight could be let in was blocked by the thick curtains strewn about; they’d been practically tied shut as to graciously remind attendees of their purpose, locking them into the intimidating atmosphere that’d determine their livelihood. 

That’s how Isagi saw it, at least. He didn’t quite consider the potential that others didn’t take it so seriously. The concept of a dancer not fully enveloping themselves within the act was entirely alien to him — he’d sooner engulf himself in the flames of devoted disaster before being remotely inattentive towards his craft. 

A familiar sharp tone pierced his ears, a low hiss in the background as notes enunciated themselves through the audible shroud. Speakers clicked on one by one, following the first, a sickening harmonious whine throwing a number of attendees off their balance. The pace was slow, lagging and intense; a horrendous first dance for new partnerships, Isagi’d thought. 

The dancers seemed to mix glances between each other, eyes all glazed over and empty with thoughtless confusion. Such a melodious tone required passion, but not so much to be uncomfortably forward amongst a sea of unfamiliar faces. Stand out, sure, but not out of form —that was the basis of a well-scripted ballroom masterpiece.

Scripted being the key, here. The word made Isagi drag his head back in discontent. 

His heels scraped against the waxed floors, which would provide perfect traction had they not been obviously recently done. Planted too hard against the ground, his shoes lifted up with a gluey schlick. Avoiding overcompensating his steps, for fear of overapplied pressure, was not something he could easily do in a high-strung state. 

His persistent-yet-failing attempts of flagging down a partner with merely his burning (realistically, dull) gaze had been met unrewarded. For the first time since he could remember, he was frozen, each puzzle piece of formulated strategy struggling to fall into place with the inconsistencies, the requirements for improvisation, the pure incoherency of everything—

The pieces crashed to his mind’s floor as the crowd pushed back suddenly. 

Nearly lost beneath him, his feet shifted to hold balance as his attention shot back, watching intermingled groups spread apart as a gap widened itself between the mass. Footsteps clicked against disagreeable flooring, a combination of the crowd’s stumbling, Isagi’s curious stride, and the sounds amidst the group he was so drawn towards.

“–ahaha! Come on, guys! You’re no fun!” 

Isagi refused to admit that he’d shoved his way through rather rudely, wedging himself between mingling potential-partners as the sound called him in. Each clack of movement from the undesignated source was simultaneously unrhythmic and in-step, as if following a tune entirely separate to the screeching hums surrounding them. Obscene on the ears as it was, it was intriguing, a term Isagi’d long learned to disassociate from dance entirely. To lack direction was to lose yourself, and to lose yourself was to lose focus— “one mustn't lose focus, or you’ll lose the beat!” or so they’d drilled into him. 

So why was this entirely self-gratifying cacophony of steps so satisfying?

He found himself promptly at the forefront of the congestion, which had still been shifting to avoid the centerpiece’s path.

A man– no, he had to be just his age, — pivoted on the ball of his foot, landing harsh on the other end with an outstretched hand. Breathless, his chest rose prominently with each desperate inhale that propelled him another step. Feathered strands of hair blew from his face, the majority of yellow bangs tied up just above his forehead, drops of sweat shimmering on exposed skin. Had the eccentricity of his movements not set him apart, his attire could easily do the job; White ruffles of a shirt hung from his chest, the buttoned center the only attempt at holding together an image amongst the sea of suits and ties. A belt, closer defined as a corset, held the fabric tightly to his waist, cinching off the flowy top to taper off into classic black pants, freshly-shined shoes already scuffed along their yellow trim. 

Something of the boy reminded him of a medieval mystery— perhaps a pirate, even, in attendance solely to pillage their prospect of normalcy. 

“It’s your loss; me and my monster are more than capable!”

He pivoted once more, hand drawn close to his chest before holding them out, grasping invisible hands of a partner nonexistent. Each footstep methodically followed the typical in-tandem moveset, a simple tango seeming so different with just the difference of one participant. That, and perhaps, the flair the demented dancer added along, his own steps in-time with what Isagi’d assumed was an internal rhythm. 

The display of oddity had at least spurred on some movement, other timid attendees coupling up as groups sectioned off. Floorspace grew wider as dancers ventured out of the herd— but perhaps this newfound confidence was only brought on by the collective still observing the questionably-solo performance. 

“Move over! Here comes the–”

Golden eyes burned with newfound passion as sensible, timed movements built up to grand measures. His multi-step movements quickly launched into a rotation, spinning himself before scratching heels against the fresh floor in an abrupt stop. His hand held out, not as if reaching, but as if guided by a partner in spirit, a ghostly hand the only separation between him and a cold, rough tumble to bystanders’ feet. Puzzled exchanges from onlookers seemed to miss a core detail: the way his arm tugged back in preparation.

As immersed as he’d let himself become with his craft, Isagi took notice of the slight change. A particular move he dared not practice alone, not just for safety, but physical inability— you can’t exactly be caught by air, and so there’s no way–

He’d pivoted sharply on his feet, pushing all his weight into a falling-back motion. 

Click.

Click, click, click.

The first footstep matched puzzle pieces convening; the rest met his heartbeat as he shot forward subconsciously. 

Barely-unfinished wax kept him from slipping, locking himself in place and thanking whatever minimum-wage janitor they’d hired for saving him from overshooting. The landing weight threw off his balance, legs shuffling beneath him in ill-preparation as he kept the young man firmly in his grasp. Wisps of hair fell from tied-up bangs, blown away with pursed lips as innocently playful eyes shone up at him. The golden-eyed expression quickly turned devilish as he laid in Isagi’s arms.

“Monster,” he bit down a sharp grin. 

. . . . . . .

Isagi’d not considered himself landing in this situation – sure, he was there to draw attention, that was this haphazardly-created game’s whole purpose; he’d just anticipated stares of awe over the gawks of judgement piercing his skin, a screwball dancer in delirium splayed across his arms. The tied-up tail of yellow bangs fell back atop his head, the few free strands of hair falling back to leave his sinister face in full display, giggling on an emotional high. It sort of made the blue-suited savior smile. 

Dragging his feet on the floor for traction, Isagi could sense the other’s attempt at pushing up, and he lifted him the remainder of the way to his feet. A heavy sigh of relief slipped through just barely parted lips, and the eccentric young man looked down to brush the wrinkles from his shirt — an impossible task for such a flowing garment, but it was the formality of it that mattered. 

“You should be more careful next time,” Isagi’s awkward ahem echoed as if there weren’t masses of dancers to muddle the sounds. His hands were trembling, twitching muscles a result of coursing adrenaline accumulating in his bloodstream without an outlet. The physiological response seemed purely reflexive, every cell in his body screaming out to dive in; he couldn’t quite explain, though, his lack of irritation. He’d expect to feel some sort of frustration from the circumstance he was in, the stupidity of another to dive backwards and risk injury in a competition so unusually selective and fickle. It was entirely reckless – risking the chance of a lifetime on some silly escapade. 

It was different. He loved that.

“I’m—”

“Isagi,” the name seemed to slip from his tongue too naturally. He’d outstretched an arm, pointing directly in the face of Yoichi himself, lips upturned with a gentle laugh. Monstrous eyes held a shine not before present on his own.  “You’re Yoichi Isagi.” 

Air caught in his throat, his own introduction stripped from his tongue. Black bangs blew forward with each shallow breath, an empty-headed glaze over blue eyes. He nodded.

“Do I know you..?” Who the fuck is this guy?

The respondent giggled. “No, I don’t think so!” 

His arm retracted fast, painted nails hiding away as hands curled into balls and pushed against naturally-flushed cheeks.

(Isagi’d assumed it was natural; or perhaps the oddball had been well-versed in makeup.)

“Meguru Bachira,” he beamed, and free yellow-and-brown strands fell past his lips. “I’ve seen you perform!” 

He wasn’t some big performer — that left more questions than answers. Bachira seemed to read well the confusion written across him.  

“I go to all the shows I can,” The oddity further explained himself, each word enunciated with a playful undertone, even as he eased Isagi’s confused concern. “Gotta know my competition, y’know?” 

For as short as he’d known the man, the other couldn’t help but smirk. “And for me, you took conscious note?”

“Oh, well your dance was pretty average.”

Isagi’s smug smile was quickly replaced by defensiveness, posture sealing himself off. A mental brick wall constructed instantaneously as forgotten guards replaced themselves. Right– competition. We’re here to judge and be judged, aren’t we?

One could call it a rash response, but frankly, he owed no niceties to a could-be stalker. His arms crossed in pout. 

He’d expected Bachira to pick up on his tonal shift, to redirect, or perhaps overcompensate and fawn him up. Rather, he seemed aloof, bouncing up on his toes as arms swung behind his neck, extending one into a cat-like stretch that rattled his body. He didn’t seem the most socially apt, but something about this observation eased the sting of his affront. 

“It wasn’t bad,” his words were elongated as his muscles released their tensions, falling back to his sides after with a huff. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mean anything. You just seemed…” 

The shorter (which Isagi grumbled about silently— he always seemed to be the shorter) softened, willing and curious to listen. Bachira’s hand revolved at the joint in circles as he struggled to find the proper words. 

“...Bored. Withdrawn. And that’s just no fun, is it, huh?”   

“Bored?” 

“Yeah,” the barely-taller let his head weigh to the side. “Like ‘ya were following some script or something, I guess.”

Quite rude of him to clock me so easily. Or to act like that isn’t the norm.

“You don’t?” Isagi scoffed.

Bachira’s expression seemed blank, nonplussed, but shifted with intrigue as he spoke. “No. I dance with my monster. It says to dance the way I want to.” 

They’d caught each other off guard, heavy stares into eyes that were slowly understanding each other. A brick loosened from that mental guard wall, crashing to the floor, only the view of each other’s gaze, the window to their souls, left in the open space. Bachira found himself extending an upturned hand without thought. The other needn’t look to know. 

“You could try… dancing with a monster, too?”

There’s that familiar click again.

Perhaps it’d been the pieces snapping into place, or maybe it’d been the sound of their heels against the ground, hand in hand as he dragged Isagi along. The tappings of what’d been set in motion were the only noise audible to their ears, centering themselves amidst the sea of dancers that had finally been majority paired up.The music that played had long shifted from achingly slow, a pace more akin to each loud thump of Yoichi’s heart. Their fingers had interlaced long before they’d thought to ask, and so, they’d indirectly acknowledged, this was okay. This meetcute was unconventional— but Isagi craved unconventional. It was certainly something they shared, reveling in a need for defiance and egoism. It was simply a possibility he’d never been presented before—

Not until Meguru Bachira.

Their heels had dug into the somewhat-sticky wax of the floors, thwacking as they lifted into smoother, softer strides. Their steps danced around each other, never overtaking the other; rather, each movement seemed to fuel the other, catapulting them into new possibilities. A simple counting tango spun around on its head; the golden-eyed teen’s feet in-count with the other’s as he encapsulated him from behind, hands holding his partner’s from behind and arms folded into an “x” before releasing Isagi from the contained space, pivoting on the ball of his foot with each an outstretched arm barely holding on to one another. When Bachira pulled him back in, he’d lift his arms just too high up, forcing Isagi onto his toes so he could more easily glide him across ill-prepared floors. 

“Don’t let me have all the fun,” the tone was low, laced with mischief and underlying laughter; Bachira’d leaned in just beside his ear, black locks brushing against brown-and-yellow wisps of hair as his breath warmed him, bringing sensation back to the surreal. “Take over, monster.”

“I’m no monster,” Isagi scoffed, eyes rolling in diffidence. No, that was a title reserved for Bachira, or whatever voice he had whispering in the winds around him, the one only he could hear. That was a name, based off what he’d witnessed, reserved solely for one who’d step out from the status quo, and Yoichi Isagi was not that one, no matter how much he’d like to be. He couldn’t help but analyze each precarious step he made, desperate to keep in-line with the other. How could movements so spontaneous be so skillful, as if the concepts were premeditated within an instant of a second?

“Sure you are— in there,” A rough arm tug pulled the doubtful dancer in, stumbling over his own feet and landing inches away from Bachira’s index finger, yellow nail polish filling half of his vision as the boy pointed to his eye. Isagi released a tense breath as he caught his balance and felt confident he wasn’t about to get his eye poked out. 

“There’s a fire inside of you. I see it.” 

God, this guy is fucking insane. He didn’t feel knowing that was any more practical for bringing out his “monster”. 

“No, really,” He continued, giggles easing Isagi’s apprehension. “Your eyes sparkle a lil’ different when we dance together. I pay a lot of attention to eyes, y’know.” 

Isagi snickered. “You get off on them?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Gross,” He laughed, but his shameless demeanor read that he wasn’t lying – maybe he shouldn’t lock eyes with the psycho so much.

But he couldn’t deny the way he burned up looking at him. 

Isagi blinked away illicit ideas, ones of which towed the line between dance, and matters more personal. When their hands met back-to-back, knuckles tough against soft skin, invisible needles pricked his skin with warmth as hair stood on end. They paced circles around each other, and, although his mind was just as clouded as before, perhaps it’d helped that his dancing capabilities were no longer alone at the forefront. Maybe it’d been shameful to admit that his focus had progressively shifted since the other had landed in his arms. 

Too enveloped in his own mind, his foot swept out from under him. A kick to his heels, he fell backward, a sneer just above him as the harsh thud of wooden floors never met him. 

What a bastard. “You—”

“Kicked your feet out,” Bachira shone. At least he was honest, and for that fact, quite blunt. Isagi’d started to wonder if he was consciously ill-socialized— but he took a liking to that, matched with the playful attitude. Within-the-box thinking was such a bore.

Gold eyes burned holes in the other’s inhibition, each taunt returned with a touch more confidence in his moves. Bachira’d stopped leading alone some time ago, Isagi’s own fire stoked with each prod from the monster. For as much as he was a rule-follower, it was clear— there was an ego buried beneath that front, simply never allowed to breathe. 

And by God, was Bachira one to fan the flames; even if they’d become explosive. 

Isagi beared intense pressure into his heels, lifting himself up with precarious footfall with pants hidden beneath hardly-parted lips. The challenge presented by such an eccentric dancer only fueled egoistic behavior, determined to match— no, that wasn’t enough; devour — his partner, to chew him up and spit him back out so long as he’d resurrect better again and again. 

Does that even make sense? Did it need to make sense? At least, to anyone but them?

Someone so attuned to their own ego like Bachira could read the scrawl of arrogance in just half a second.

Tight grip tugged at the monster’s hands, lacing fingers in an instant as eyes widened, stupefied. A wicked grin twisted Bachira’s lips, canines dragging against the soft skin of his bottom lip in an anticipation for Isagi’s explosive reaction. Dragged back, he launched into Isagi’s arm, dipped just to the brink of hitting the solid floor before being thrown back into movement and spun on an axis. Heavy pants preceded sincere smiles as the two met, painted nails fidgeting against the hands of their partners as their breath mingled within just an inch of each others’ face. They dared not feed the flicker that led their eyes astray to parted lips, a certain level of intimacy begging to be achieved with the intensity of their movement and the conveining of their thought processes — so focused on the moment, acting of pure reflex, that they’d not paid any attention to their partner’s identical lingering thoughts. 

Their footsteps careened along with the rhythmic thumps of the beat, shifting regularly but never throwing the couple off-pace. Seamless transitions from swift movements to tender, patient steps would have normally caught either of the two off-guard, surprised in their own capability, had it not been for the distraction that was their competition. 

For a moment, he’d thought, competition was an odd word to use — the goal was to create partners, was it not? Partners, a designated duo that could only flourish with the proper preparation, with staying in-line and in-rule of the other’s limitations and following a script designated by them both.

No script followed their moves, but oddly, they met at the crossroads of perfection together. Their formula made zero sense, didn’t line up; was it supposed to? Was everything about dance supposed to be so formulaic, so proper?

No, the monologue spat out Isagi’s perturbed thoughts, the ones he struggled to accept on his own accord. That’s where you failed— there’s no enjoyment this way.

Fuck the rulebook. This is my version of dance. 

His gaze flickered off of the movements he made, up to the face of his partner, flushed with fervor and a passion that hung in the air. His yellow bangs were still mostly tied up, free strands feathering across a sweat-glistened face and across lashes that fluttered shut with bliss. It’s as if he could feel Isagi’s admiration, and when eyes opened up to meet his own, they burned with a fury even stronger than before— moreso, it’d felt like his previous fire held deep in his soul had reached new possibilities, a new chemical in the mix creating a catastrophic, beautiful explosion.

The version I perform with my monster.

A final spin launched Isagi into a slide, grip digging into the ground to catch himself. His arm desperately outstretched to reach his partner, the silence highlighting the way Bachira squeezed onto his hand, as if emotional at the concept of letting go. The gentle yet secure grip left Isagi with a lump in his throat, swallowing down emotions that bubbled up deep within. 

Maybe the whirling footsteps weren’t the only reason his head spun, the fast-paced footfall not the reason his heart raced with freshly-ignited ferocity. His stomach turned upside-down when Bachira pulled him back up, and he stumbled, the shorter’s foot trampling the taller’s as he steadied him in his arms.

Maybe it’d been the thrum of his heart that’d prevented the realization — the fact that the music stopped, speakers silenced as the crowd surrounding them was no longer. The flood of faces previously observing them had thinned all to none, the sharp whine of a shifting screen not enough to draw them apart. Their footsteps had sounded loud on their own, tuned-in to themselves, no, to each other. Bachira giggled, awkward enjoyment hidden beneath hot air, and the vibrations of his partner’s laughter pressed against his chest only made it harder for Isagi to still his heart. They didn’t dare discuss their inability to pry their eyes off of each other as the speakers rattled with a voice painfully familiar.

“Time’s up, you unmolded lumps of coal.” His tone was hoarse, and the two wouldn’t doubt he’d been screaming at them to stop. It couldn’t have been long, or he’d have sent the red-headed girl in– what was her name? “Anri”? 

The blunt-banged planner leaned back, likely still seated in an unpictured computer chair, filtered out by the camera in place of shoddy backdrop graphics. His lanky arms folded behind his head, a deep groan escaping him as if he’d exhausted himself. 

“You’ll notice we’ve removed everyone else from the room,” Ego spoke matter-of-factly, although additional words followed in a low, almost-whispering grumble.

“If you’d’ve bothered to look up, outside of your damn selves.” 

Bachira snickered, sharp canines teasing his tongue as his gaze scanned Isagi not-so-subtly, obviously playing it up. It was hard to tell how serious his out-of-pocket actions were, and the concept of legitimacy sent Isagi into turmoil; he especially didn’t want to admit his racing thoughts were far from anger-fueled.

“We’ve thinned our competitors down to the cream-of-the-crop; sad to say, most others just couldn’t keep up. Snivelish as they are, their ego never seemed to take precedent over egregious rules.” 

Isagi blinked mindlessly. How he’d nearly forgotten the competition they took part in actively was beyond him — he’d found his mind locked onto a different driving force. 

There was something more that led him further now. 

“Congratulations, unmolded lumps of coal—”

His words muffled in the background. Isagi could lip-read, had he bothered to look— had his eyes not remained on his new object of burning desire. 

The rules were no longer what drove him, they were no longer the perfection he strove for.

He watched as eyes crinkled up in excitement, Bachira’s joy beaming off his face as he turned to pull Isagi into a threateningly-tight hug. Something deep in the teen’s mind begged for the subject’s further praise and approval, but the squeeze of his muscles underneath intense strength would have to suffice. He’d have plenty of time to sort out emotions with his new goalpost—

His perfect partner, Bachira. His monster.

Isagi paid no attention to the competition’s close, aside from his success alongside his other, the prospect of a future they were destined to chase together. He’d expected his heart to slow when stakes were gone, but it’d kept intensity even long after. Enveloped in sheets that night, he was near-restless, a constant replay of the day looping in his thoughts. Ironically, he couldn’t seem to remember a single dance move, a single strain of steps he’d taken to achieve his goal— all that remained was reflex and invigoration flowing through veins, newfound fervor he couldn’t explain at the presence of the monster met today. 

His face softened into a smile. This is the version of dance he’d craved.

════════════════

[bilaudad]

"Now, you listen to me"

one of my favorite scenes from chapter 15 of @moonyinpisces' brilliant fic how do we turn on the light <3

(chapter 16 just dropped last night though, kicking off act 3, and it SLAPS go read it!!)

[sirfrogthe3rd]

"If an artist falls in love with you, you can never die."

[colfy-wolfy]

If I wrote a fic about the aftermath of Surv and Monk's family losing two pups at the same moment, would you guys read it?

it'll be filled with a bunch of my headcanons about them and I promise I'll make it interesting story-wise.

happy ending? depends on how generous i am. it'll probably only be a few chaps long. simply for fun!!

[mkunart]

💧Sebastian vibes 🌧️

I hope you have a nice day! 😊♥️

Artwork by: @mkunart

[tiredfox64]

Hello! How you doing? I hope you're having a great day :D

I have a small request based on a funny picture I saw on twitter, where reader asks their crush/lover "Do you like sleeping?" and they're like "...yes?" then reader says "Wow, me too... We should try it together sometime"

I just can't choose which mk1 character, since I love all of them lmao. So I'll leave that up to you! Can be with anyone, sfw or not! your pick :p

Nap Time?

Yip notes: Hello! I’m doing alright, hope you are doing lovely （＾∇＾). This seems like such a fun idea. And you are letting me pick! Got me squealing.

Pairings: Tomas, Havik, Rain, Reiko x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️:NSFW, choking, biting, overstimulation (a bit), many positions

Tomas

Why would you ever trust Johnny to give you good advice? Trusting Johnny is a gamble, especially when you ask him for dating advice.

You were unsure of how to flirt with someone so you had to ask Johnny for help. And the help he gave you…was in the form of memes from Instagram and Twitter. He swore to you up and down that this would work on Tomas. You believed him, just like that?

So you tried it out. It might kill you to try to flirt but at least you made an effort to do so. You were a little nervous as you approached Tomas who was supervising the initiates. Immediately when he saw you he broke out into a smile. Your heart was going crazy from just looking at him. You didn’t realize the loving look in his eyes every time he stared at you. You two had a casual conversation for a bit, just the usual. You took a deep breath and tried remembering which pickup line you would use on Tomas. Something that will capture his attention but won’t be too forward.

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?” you asked.

He looked at you, his eyebrow cocked up in confusion, “…yes?”

“Wow, me too…we should try it together sometime.”

That was too forward girl! I thought you would be better than me.

You put your head down in shame before quickly walking off. A walk of shame if you will. That meant however that you missed Tomas’ reaction to your flirting. It was super effective! He knew what you meant because Johnny told him before. Thanks, Johnny. He went from his usual pale self to a shade of pink that only a rose could replicate. You’re just gonna leave him like that? All flustered like you didn’t just ask him to sleep with you. He didn’t know you felt that way about him.

You left him in an uncomfortable position. He couldn’t go find you because he had to supervise the initiates. But he was also trying to keep his composure and not think too much about being in bed with you. He can’t think about how his hands would be all over you, feeling your soft skin as his body is pressed against yours. Ah, too late he’s hard just from that. Pathetic. Better hide that.

The moment the initiates were done training he went looking for you. You were in your room, groaning into your pillows from the embarrassment you still were feeling. You thought this memory would haunt you forever. Oh how wrong you were.

Tomas was knocking on your door, still trying his best to keep his composure. You got up and opened the door. Before you could try to apologize for what you said he asked you something.

“Were you being serious? Please tell me you were being serious.” He said in desperation.

You were shocked. The pickup line worked? And he wanted you to be serious? Alright, ain’t you a winner.

You nodded your head and that’s all Tomas needed. He pushed his way into your room and only then did you notice his boner. It’s really hard to hide it with the uniform he has on. Well, go on, fix it. You started the war you better finish it. Get in bed! Scratch that, he will carry you to bed.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your groans of embarrassment soon became groans of pleasure. And pants. And moans. And whimpers. Everything actually.

The pickup line sure did work. It got Tomas into bed with you, naked and desperate to pleasure himself with your body. You heard him groan and whimper every time he thrusted into you. He had you on your side with his chest pressed against your back and his hand on your thigh. He held your right leg up to have easier access to your pussy. His other arm was wrapped around your neck. He wasn’t choking you but holding you in place. He could choke you if that’s what you want.

You had no idea how long you guys were at it. It was like one second he was carrying you to your bed, the next he was ripping your clothes off, and now he had his dick inside of you. The dick must be good considering you were drooling in seconds and could only focus on how much he was stretching you out.

Don’t count yourself short because Tomas is just as dazed as you. Your pussy was as warm and tight as he imagined. When he first slid his cock in he let out a satisfied sigh, like he was relieved to feel your pussy squeezing him. The passion he was putting into each thrust was phenomenal. It’s like he was trying to fuck his love into you. That love sure was hitting your g-spot and making your moans go up a pitch. Soon your leg was shaking and you were telling him not to stop. He wasn’t planning on it. Tomas was as close as you were.

That pleasure was becoming greater and you both couldn’t handle it. One more deep thrust into you and you both were finished. You heard Tomas let out whimpers and moans as he came inside you. He was still thrusting a little which pushed the cum further into you. You would have been moaning as well if it weren’t for the fact that Tomas started choking you with his arm. You were not complaining. The lack of oxygen with your orgasm was the best feeling you have ever had. You could have sworn that the heavens opened and you were looking at the angels who looked down at you and asked ‘Is he gonna put a ring on it?’ Tomas better put a ring on it because you don’t ever want him leaving your side. Neither does he.

Tomas finally let you breathe once he realized he was choking you which you thanked him for doing. Like the gentleman he is he checked and asked if he hurt you anywhere. You told him to not worry and that you were fine. Once that was over he pulled you close to him and gave you kisses all over your face. He could stay here for hours with you so he could cuddle and kiss you. That lovemaking session sure did a number on you guys. It tired you out that you were soon falling asleep in his arms.

Looks like you slept with Tomas in both ways.

Havik

You’re trying to flirt with Havik? Right…how well do you think that will go for you?

Havik is not an idiot but some things go flying over his head. Using unfamiliar terms might not hit the mark. You have to be blunt essentially. But it’s hard to be blunt about wanting Havik to be your partner and asking to have sex with him. Whoever could do that is a maniac or just extremely bold. That’s not you. So the best you could do is flirt and hope it hits the mark.

You approached him as he was in the middle of looking at weapons. That mace is looking really nice to him. Whatever, you’re there now and you seem to be asking for his attention. Not literally, you were actually staring up at him until he noticed your presence.

“What?” He asked.

“I have a question for you.” You replied in a shy tone.

He fully turned his attention towards you, curious as to what you had to say considering you never got this shy before.

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?”

“…yes, why do you ask?” Don’t fuck with him. Havik has no clue what you are getting at.

“Wow, me too…we should try it together sometime.”

There was a silence that followed. A long, uncomfortable silence followed as he stared at you. His head tilted to the side a little to indicate his confusion. This might have been a failure on your part. What were you thinking? You turned around to walk away only to be grabbed by the back of your shirt by Havik. He pulled you back and held you up by your shirt. You can’t walk away after saying something so confusing to him.

“What does that even mean?” Havik interrogated you.

You didn’t want to answer him. This situation was already incredibly embarrassing for you and it doesn’t help that he wanted you to explain it to him. You begged him to forget what you said and put you down already. Havik was not gonna listen, even you knew that. He wouldn’t let you down until you told him what you meant. In a moment of chaos and stress you blurted out the truth.

“I want to have sex with you!”

I mean I would have lied but good on you for being truthful.

There was silence once more. You watched as Havik squinted his eyes. You were unsure of what he was doing until you heard him let out a dark chuckle. If his face weren’t mutilated you would be able to see that he was smiling. But since he has a permanent smile on his face it probably works out.

“Why didn’t you say so? We could do that right now.” He said with pure delight. Get to it!

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You knew Havik was a freak but you didn’t expect him to be this freaky. Who would have thought that the first position he would pick to do you in was the mating press.

Eight inches slamming into you, damn! Of course, he was going rough. He pushed your legs back as far as they could go so he could go as deep as he could. You were already crying and panting in the first few minutes. He made sure you kept looking up at him. He wanted to see every expression you made and watch every tear slip down your face. Watching your eyes roll back every time he slammed into your g-spot made him want to devour you even more.

Havik was beyond reason. His mind was only on one thing and that was fucking your pussy. You had to stay exactly how he wanted to. Every time you tried to look away from him he grabbed your face and forced you to look at him again. He wouldn’t let go until he got a nice reaction out of you.

“Aww, what a pretty face. I wonder what face you will make when I do this?”

You felt his hand wrap around your throat. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. The excitement in his eyes was apparent. He squeezed tighter and went rougher. With the position you were in combined with everything else he was doing; it was no shock that you ended up cumming. Strained moans left your mouth as your eyes rolled back. Drool and tears were slipping down your face. Your hands could not take Havik’s hand away from your throat. You were forced to cum on his cock as he choked the life out of you. Sounds started to grow duller but the orgasm you felt was heightened. Every stroke was felt, his dick was hitting every spot down there. You could not ignore the painful pleasure you felt. And when it seemed like you were about to pass out, he let go.

You were trying to catch your breath but it was difficult since he was still fucking you. You were catching your breath in between moans and pants that were hoarse from being choked. Luckily for you, he was close. One, two, three more thrusts and he was golden. He slammed so hard and deep inside you that you could have sworn that he hit your cervix. Havik let out this loud groan that seemed to drag out. His tongue stuck out, causing some of his saliva to drip down onto you. Oh, he was satisfied alright.

Once his little moment of nature’s pleasure was over he pulled out and immediately collapsed onto you. He wrapped his arms around your waist. Tonight, you will be his pillow. You have no choice he is too big to move. Plus he wants to stay in this position with you. You are his girlfriend now. You both had sex that’s how it goes, at least in his head that’s how it works. You heard him lightly snore away. You were happy with the outcome of your pickup line. It worked incredibly well. You slowly started to fall asleep as you held Havik in your arms.

Be careful he drools in his sleep. Wait, never mind, he’s chewing on your titty in his sleep. That’s a bigger issue. At least he does it lightly.

Rain

Ah, going after the high mage himself. It’s an interesting choice to pick a man who might have never felt the touch of a woman other than his mother.

If only you had his confidence you could be better when it comes to flirting with him. Hiding behind a pillar and watching him do magic does not count as flirting. You can talk to Rain but if you try to suggest something or flirt you freeze up. He’ll ask you if you’re alright, you’ll lie and say you’re fine before walking off, and the cycle repeats.

But maybe this time will be different. When the tournament was going on you heard in the background one of the Earthrealmers, probably Johnny, using a certain pickup line on Kitana. It seemed to work since it got a laugh out of her. So it has to work for you, right? You could only hope that this man will get it.

The next time you saw him you ran up to him with a smile on your face. Rain was delighted to see you again. You always manage to make him feel warm on the inside. You get him thinking about you instead of his studies or his duties. You’ll most likely do the same right now. The conversation is going well and you’ve made him smile. Go in for the kill!

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?” you asked awkwardly.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “…yes? I would imagine everyone does.”

“Wow, me too…we should try it together sometime.”

The silence was loud.

“You have your own bed, why would you need to sleep together?”

For a smartass he sure can be a dumbass.

You were beyond crushed. Just like usual you froze up. You didn’t give Rain a chance to ask if you were okay, you walked off quickly. You left him standing there, confused and unsure if he did anything wrong.

The rest of the day went on. You stayed hidden in your room after that embarrassing fail. Rain consulted with Mileena and Kitana about what just happened. He went on and on about how he didn’t understand what you meant. He was confused about why you wanted to sleep in his bed. When Kitana asked exactly what you said Rain relayed the pickup line. In a matter of seconds, Kitana and Mileena’s faces changed. They knew what you meant. Rain saw the look they were giving him and asked what was wrong now.

“Rain,” Kitana started, “She was flirting with you.”

“She was asking to sleep with you. You know…” Mileena made the gesture with her fingers that indicated what she meant.

Computing…computing…loading…load-SEX! YOU MEANT SEX!

“By Argus, why didn’t she just say that!?” Because that’s not casual, Rain.

Rain booked it out of there, almost forgetting his water staff in the process. He was at your door in minutes. He kept banging on it with little regard for his hand. You groaned as you picked your head up from your bed. You quickly opened the door thinking there was an emergency.

“Be more direct next time.” Rain said as he pushed his way into your bedroom.

Shall we begin the party?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

He can be an idiot at times he will admit that. Let him make it up by taking care of you.

You were facing Rain as he had you on his lap. He thrusted into you mindlessly while his mouth was occupied with your nipple. Everything about you was soft to him. He couldn’t get enough of your skin. His hands wandered all over before wrapping his arms around your waist. Occasionally his hands would move down just to get a handful of your ass. It’s too tempting how could he not squeeze it.

Your breasts were doing wonders for this man. The moment he saw them he pulled you in so he could shove his face in between them. He looked so peaceful as he sucked on your nipple. Your breasts have become his new happy place. Your fingers ran through his hair which made this more pleasurable for him. He doesn’t want this to end.

You sure were enjoying yourself. With the position you were in you were sitting right on seven inches. Seven inches that was going in and out of you at a steady rhythm. Don’t forget the fact that your clit was being rubbed every time he thrusted into you. Hell even when he took a breather and you would start grinding, your clit was getting the attention it needed. You were in a drunken daze, whimpering and pants with each thrust. It felt like his cock was reaching into your stomach. Every time he hit your g-spot you would twitch and bring his face closer to your breasts. You’re suffocating the poor man but he loves it.

Why Rain is so good at this is a mystery. A mystery you don’t care to solve you are happy with living in this cock drunken state.

This party must come to an end. You both had your fun and you couldn’t hold back your orgasm. You felt Rain’s cock twitch inside you, letting you know he was close. You made him look up at you. You saw how his eyes twinkled when he stared up at you. That look encouraged you to start kissing him passionately as the orgasm hit you both. Hot strings of cum shot into you as your pussy clenched around his cock. Both your moans were being muffled by the kiss luckily.

He held you in his arms for a while as your both caught your breath. You got off his lap and immediately collapsed onto your bed. Rain quickly came to your side and brought you in close. He had your head resting on his chest, allowing you to listen to his heartbeat. His heart was beating for you.  

What a romantic evening.  

Reiko

Going after a man who only knows war? You’re just brave at this point.

This has to be easy, right? Not many ladies are brave enough to ask out any Outworld soldier, let alone the lieutenant himself. The girls who were brave enough to ask Reiko out were either turned down or he didn’t understand what they were doing. The fact is there are no other ladies trying to go after your man. They see it as a losing game while you see it as a challenge.

You spotted him out on the training grounds with other soldiers. You ran nearby and watching from a distance as he took down his fellow soldiers. Once Reiko noticed that you were there you waved him over. He told everyone to take a quick break as he walked over to you. Once he was right in front of you he questioned why you were around and why you seemed to be waiting for him. You told him you had a question for him.

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?” you said with some confidence.

“…yes? Sleep is important to a man like me.”

“Wow, me too…we should try it sometimes.” You finished with less confidence.

“You don’t want to sleep with me.”

“Oh…” You were quiet for a bit before deciding to walk off.

His skull is too thick I fear.

Reiko stared at you before turning around. His soldiers looked at him like he was crazy. He asked them what they were looking at. They started yelling at him that he fumbled so hard. They asked if he really didn’t want to have sex with a pretty lady like you. They said Reiko was so lucky to be flirted with by you.

“Sex? She didn’t ask to have sex with me. She asked to sleep with me.” He replied.

“It’s the same thing!” They yelled back in unison.

“That’s just stupid! If she just said sex I would have said yes!” Too late, idiot!

Reiko was upset by everyone and everything. He decided to visit you once he was done training with the other soldiers. He found your home and like the weird brute he is, he climbed up to your window. You heard tapping at your window as you were getting ready for bed. You were surprised to see Reiko at your windowsill. You opened the window immediately to let him in.

“Is it really that difficult to ask for sex?” For a man like him, probably not.

You don’t need to do much to get Reiko started, your nightgown was doing the work for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Oo look how strong Reiko is. Holding you up as he fucks you against the wall, show off.

He needed to show you how much of a man he was. He’s an idiot, not a heathen who doesn’t need sex. Everyone needs a little bit of fun.

His lips were attacking your lips in a rough kiss as his body pinned your body against your bedroom wall. He held onto your legs and kept them wide open as he thrusted into you. His thrusts were angled a little to allow him to rub against your clit. When it comes to sex, Reiko gives it his all. He never wants to lack. So he’s gonna make sure this will be a night you remember.

You sure will remember. Your pussy will definitely remember and crave his cock again. You will remember how its curved shape was a glorious feeling. Combined with his thick size you won’t be needing any other man. He stretched you out that the pain was pleasurable.

Reiko is a rough lover in general so his thrusts were just as rough. All you can hear is the sound of skin slapping, wet sounds, and heavy breathing. You felt his teeth lightly biting down on your lower lip. He didn’t want to ruin your perfect lip so he moved down to your neck. His teeth sank into your soft skin, littering it with marks. Bite marks were appearing all over your neck and shoulders. Each time he marked you his tongue would run over the mark he just made.

“You’re going to look so pretty when I’m done with you. Can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions when they see that you’re my lady now.” He is such a cocky bastard.

You were loopy but were on cloud nine. The pain and pleasure were a devious combination. It’s a high. A high you could only get from Reiko. He is your drug that leaves evidence of his effects on you.

Highs have to end eventually. You started panting fast as you got closer to cumming. Reiko watched your face as he went faster. Your head went back against the wall while your eyes began to shut tight. Your lovely moans came flowing out of your mouth and into Reiko’s ears. He thought the only noise he ever liked was the sound of his enemies dying. But it seems like you’ve proven him wrong.

Your body went somewhat limp but he still held you up. He’s not done yet. He was still pounding away, feeling how your pussy grew wetting to the point it was dripping. He made you stare up at him as he kept fucking you. He wanted to watch you lose yourself more from this. The sight of your eyes growing wet from being overstimulated was delicious to him. It was enough to send him over the edge. You saw the satisfied smile on his face as his cum filled up your pussy. He was trying to shove it as deep as he could like he was trying to mark you even more.

He held you in his arms as he pulled out. His cum was dripping out of you and onto the floor. Whatever, you guys can clean it up in the morning. You both need rest after that rough session. He placed you lightly on the bed before getting in himself. He laid on his back with one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around your body. Reiko was a satisfied man. What would make him even more satisfied was if you asked to be his girlfriend. You need to be blunt when you ask that one.

Give this man a cigarette he is giving off that energy.

Yap notes: WOO DOGGY THAT WAS A LOT. Had to put my mind into it. Thank you for letting me pick I’m glad to do more of my favorite/ underrated men! It was enjoyable to write. Now I need a nap. Adiós!

[4csbirz]

Silence in the rain

› 𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

› 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : Trying to flee after the rush of people, you run into a boy who doesn't seem to want to stop following you after helping him.

› 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 : I watched this movie yesterday and as a fan of Joseph Quinn, I simply fell in love with Eric, I need more of him. + English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes 😿

› 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 : 2.7k

The large and loud raindrops fell with no intention of stopping. Minutes earlier, the helicopters had asked us to move to the water's edge, supposedly to be rescued, but it seemed everything went wrong. The creatures emerged from their hiding places and attacked us. The brief moment of calm vanished in less than five seconds. People were screaming and running in all directions. To be honest, I doubted we would get out of here.

I hid under a car, waiting for whoever was still around to leave. Carefully, I started to emerge from my hiding place, praying that I wouldn't make any loud noises and attract those things again.

As soon as I came out, I couldn't help but look at the sky. It had been a long time since I had felt the rain, and despite the circumstances, I still loved it. I decided to walk toward a sheltered place, taking slow and cautious steps while hugging myself. I looked around; not a single human was nearby, only destruction—or so I thought until I saw a white cat with small black spots in front of me. It looked so unreal that I didn't know if I was hallucinating or not, so with some fear, I abandoned my plan to find shelter and approached the cute kitten.

The rain seemed to intensify more and more. I could hear a couple of thunderclaps in the distance, but I still didn't stop following the kitten, which had stayed still in what appeared to be a flooded subway entrance. The little cat turned to look at me, appearing so calm with its big, bright eyes. It then turned back to the water and bent down to drink. I took this opportunity to sit beside it, simply admiring it.

Everything was peaceful—just the kitten and me—until something emerged from the water, startling us. I jumped back, not caring much about the bump I would get, and quickly covered my mouth with my hands to stifle a possible scream. My heart was racing at an impressive speed. I didn't even want to breathe, thinking it might be one of those creatures. But all the fear vanished when I heard what sounded like heavy breathing. Slowly, I removed my hands from my mouth and approached the bars, looking down at the flooded stairs and seeing a boy.

He looked somewhat scared. I couldn't imagine how long he had been underwater. The boy looked at me, tilting his head slightly as if examining me. I frowned, and shortly after, he turned to look at the cat. The little feline was beside me, so he looked at both of us before emerging from the water.

I moved from my spot to help him, extending my hand, hoping he would take it. Though he hesitated at first, he eventually took my hand and accepted my help. Once he was out, I looked around, searching for the cat, but it seemed to have gone. However, I quickly spotted it again; it had moved three or four spots ahead, seemingly heading to an alley.

I dusted off my clothes a bit and started following the cat, but I could hear a pair of "stealthy" footsteps behind me. I knew it was him, so taking advantage of a small café's awning, I stopped and turned around, frowning at him. "Go away," I said in a low voice, to which he just shook his head.

"Why are you following me?" The boy still didn't answer, so with the little patience I had, I moved a bit closer and spoke again, this time a bit louder, "What's your name?" This time, it took him a bit longer to even make a gesture. I waited a bit before he finally spoke in almost the same tone as me, "Eric, my name is Eric."

[bottlesandbarricades]

I like when people mention “The Rains of Castamere” in their hotd fanfics cause I like to think the very alive Reynes of Castamere are sat in the corner of the feast going

[heavenlyraindrops]

Hi! I just started reading your post and your writing is excellent!! I was wondering if you could write a NSFW Lucifer x Reader , where Lucifer and Reader have been dating for a while but Lucifer is cautious in bed with Reader because he doesn’t want to scare her away with his dominant side, but reader actually is a sub and is into it? And keeps asking for him to show her his dominant side and on her birthday he does? Also can the reader have a praise kink too? If it’s too much I understand, thank you!

ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | “ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ” ——> ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.4ᴋ

Warnings: soft!dom!lucifer, monsterfucking (his demon form), he uses his tail to get you off, birthday sex, praise kink, afab!reader/ fem!reader, established relationship, creampie, rough-ish sex, p in v sex

a/n: hii love this req! I don’t really think of lucifer as a dom so I went for soft!dom, sorry if this is a bit iffy I just don’t see him that way 😭 other than that I loved writing this had sm fun haha hope you enjoy!

You traced the crook of Lucifer’s pale neck with your fingertip, sighing at the darkened purple marks and bruises littering his skin. He wrapped his arm around your waist, shivering slightly at your breath on his skin.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbled, voice muffled by the pillows and sheets. You let your head flop back, reveling in his warm embrace as an afterglow filled the air. “Nothing,” you muttered. He shifted around you, raising an eyebrow.

“Obviously it’s not nothing.”

You faltered, biting your lip before turning to him. “You know I can tell you hold back on me.” You rolled your eyes, clutching the displaced sheets around you as he turned to you, a blond lock falling over his forehead. 

“And you know that I don’t want to scare you away.” He tried to wrap his arms around you but you shimmied away, and he looked at you despondently as you sat up, licking his lips nervously as his eyes fell on your body.

“You’d never scare me away,” you sighed. “It just doesn’t feel right.” You waved at the space between you and him. “It makes me feel like I’m not giving you enough… pleasure.”

“Pleasure?” he snickered, scooting towards you. You flushed as he wormed his way in between your legs, planting a kiss to your lips. 

“Yes, pleasure,” you huffed. “We just fucked. You don’t have to make it… weird…!“ you trailed off as he began pressing more kisses, gradually becoming longer and deeper. You snaked your arms around his shoulders, tugging on the soft blond hair. 

“How about we see how much pleasure I can give you?” He whispered breathlessly in between kisses, hands slipping around your waist. You bit back a moan. 

“We just did,” you muttered, and his hand slipped in between your legs, eliciting a soft gasp. “Stop trying to change the subject. We were talking seriously-“ You cut off with a moan as he teased your entrance. 

“Well we can talk about it in the morning.” His voice was husky on the shell of your ear. “Just let me make you feel good, ‘kay angel?” You sighed, slipping with him under the covers, unable to tear your eyes away from his triumphant grin. 

“Fine.” 

-

Morning came. You didn’t talk about it. 

You pestered him for the rest of the day. You pestered him over breakfast. You two had to visit Charlie at the hotel, and you even pestered him there. 

You leaned over as Charlie started animatedly explaining her project to open a library in the hotel. “You could dom me, you know,” you whispered. “If you’re into it, I wouldn’t mind.”

You watched as his face turned bright red, and he pushed you away. “Fuck’s sake, [name], not now,” he hissed under his breath. 

“You won’t scare me away.”

“We can talk about it when we get home.” 

You pressed your lips together in a pout, but didn’t say anything, just turned back to Charlie. Lucifer threw you a sidelong glance, licking his lips again before tearing his eyes away. 

The ride home was tense. You turned to him, opened your mouth to talk. He glared at you. 

“If it’s about that, then don’t even try.”

You huffed, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms. “Pussy,” you muttered under your breath. You saw his grip tighten on the steering wheel, and assumed he’d grown angry, not noticing the way his face flushed and the way his heartbeat intensified. 

He ignored you with a roll of his eyes, and your frustration festered. 

You reached home. He still wouldn’t talk about it. You tried everything, from begging to seduction to bribery. 

“I don’t get it,” you said, exasperated. “Why don’t you just fucking dominate me? Okay, it sounds weird and cringe when I say it like that, but-“

“You know what I don’t get?” Lucifer sighed, taking a sip from his mug, looking at you over the table. “Why you’re so hellbent on getting me to do that.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, sighing but not saying anything, instead opting to glance out the window. Yeah, dude, I’m fucking into it, but I’m not gonna say it, am I? You sighed and picked at the foot on your plate, avoiding his pointed stare. 

You glanced up at him, noticing a small smirk playing across his lips. You wondered if he could see your red face in the warm light, despite the darkness of the night out the window. “What?” You asked, miffed.

He shook his head wordlessly and turned his attention back on the food. 

You chewed your lips, then rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the quickened thrum of your heartbeat. 

“Whatever,” you muttered.

-

“Happy Birthday!” Charlie squealed, tossing a giant bucket of confetti in your face. You spluttered as a couple went inside your mouth. 

“Charlie?” You squeaked. Lucifer circled his arm around your waist as Vaggie brought out a cake, decorated with lit candles. You bit back an excited squeal. 

The room was dark when you had entered, but now the lights had switched on, revealing the hotel staff and residents who were all eager to surprise you. Confetti littered the floor, balloons stuck to the ceiling- and, in the back, a huge banner, spelling out “Happy Birthday [name]!” In colourful writing. 

“You said we were coming for the library project,” you pointed out, jabbing Lucifer in the chest with a finger playfully. He chuckled, voice low as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Surprise?” He tried. You threw your arms around him. 

“‘Course,” you mumbled, voice muffled as you spoke into the crook of his neck. 

You hugged Charlie, too, and Vaggie and Angel, but didn’t get the chance to greet anyone else before Charlie swept you onto the couch for presents and cake. Your heart fluttered with warmth, as you looked around at everyone. 

“Thank you for this, Charlie,” you murmured. She laughed and hugged you again. “It wasn’t just my idea. It was dad’s too. And, well everyone else here.” She pulled away. “We kind of collectively had the thought to throw you this.” She placed the knife in your hand, motioning for you to make the first cut. 

Angel Dust had switched on some music- albeit inappropriate, and once everyone had finished their portion of cake he dragged you over to the bar.

“So, toots,” he smirked, nodding at Husk to pour you both some drinks, “How’s it going with Short King?”

“Ugh, fine.” You rolled your eyes as Husk slid over a glass. Angel raised an eyebrow.

“That means, not fine.”

You didn’t say anything, instead taking an aggravated gulp from your drink. Angel traced the rim of his glass, hands on his hips. “So, you wanna talk about it? Wait, no, actually, let me guess what it is.” He began listing situations off of his fingers. “Doesn’t make ya cum.” You blanched, but he ignored it, continuing. “Bad kisser? Oh, I know.” He dropped his voice to a scandalous whisper, placing his hand on your shoulder and drawing you in. “He has a foot fetish.” 

“No, no and no!” You swatted his hand away, full of embarrassment as you glanced at Husk, who was side-eyeing you both. You gulped. “You didn’t hear that, did you?”

Husk gave a languid shrug. “Just somethin’ ‘boutta foot fetish.”

You flinched. “Well, just know,” you said hysterically, “that I do not have a foot fetish.” You gestured wildly to the room. “No one here has a foot fetish.”

He at you blankly, clearly not interested. “Right.” 

“It’s true!”

“I believe ya.” 

“You don’t sound very convinced.” 

He rolled his eyes, disappearing from the bar, clearly having had enough of you. Angel blew a kiss after him before turning back to you. “So, what really is it?”

“Nothing important.” You sighed and set your almost empty glass down with a clink. “He’s great, really. He’s sweet, he’s kind, thoughtful, funny, gentle-“

“So it is the sex.”

You didn’t say anything.

“Huh. You woulda thought someone like him that’s been ‘round for so long would be better at fucking, but I guess not.”

“N-no!” You spluttered. “You’ve got it wrong, he’s great at sex. It’s-“ you glanced around quickly- “it’s addictive, really. He’s that good.” You sighed. “It’s just…” 

“Just…?”

“So. I think he’s- I think he’s like, a top or a dom or whatever, right?”

A giant grin crept its way onto Angel’s face. You ignored it, albeit annoyed, and ploughed on.

“But he’s holding back on me. He says he doesn’t want to scare me away or hurt me, but he won’t! It’s so dumb, really. And I keep asking him to show me what he’s- show me his- you know, and he won’t!”

“Well, why’re ya so hellbent on getting him to top you?” Angel quizzed, rolling back his shoulders as he threw a seductive glance at a grumpy Husk on the other side of the room. His eyes flicked back to you. “You given him a reason why he should?” He leaned forward.

“Well, no,” you grumbled. “But I don’t see why I need to.”

“You’re into it, aren’t ya?” He said, smirking. You flinched. 

“Oh well like maybe.” You shrugged, face burning up. “Don’t see why that’s significant.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Sure. Well, wishin’ ya luck.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to hopin’ he’ll finally rail you tonight.” You picked up your half- empty one and tapped them together with a clink.

“Cheers,” you muttered, downing the last few drops of alcohol from the bottom of the glass, as Angel followed suit. 

“[name].” You turned to see Charlie standing behind you, her hand closing around your wrist as she dragged you into the dance floor- aka the center of the lobby. “Come dance with us!” 

You let out a giddy laugh as she grabbed both your hands, bopping to the music. It was endearing. You twirled her around, and she picked you up and spun you before you twirled her again and released her into Vaggie’s arms, and her girlfriend swept her away into their own bubble as the music slowed.

Hands closer around your waist as you looked up to see Lucifer. “Hey,” you said breathlessly. He pressed you closer.

“Missed you,” he mumbled. You laughed again. 

“We’ve been in the same room the whole time,” you teased, placing a hand on his chest. He smiled softly, eyes lidded as you snaked your arms around his shoulders.

“Well, we haven’t had much alone time together since the start of the day, have we?”

“We can have some together once we get home.” You winked at him. “Just you and-“

“Angel! The fuck is this romantic shit? Put on something cunty!”  Cherri’s racous screams from the other side of the room cut across your suggestive sentence. The cyclops then ran over to you, grabbing you and pulling you over to herself.

Lucifer sighed as you slipped from his arms, the beat of the music thrumming through the ground. Cherri whooped. “Sorry, bitch, she’s mine for this song!” She yelled across to him. He chuckled and shook his head as Cherri’s voice struck out again. 

“C’mon, [name], shake your ass like you mean it!” 

And yours: “The fuck?! I can’t-“

“Yeah you can!”

“I’m not shaking my…” Your voice trailed off as he tuned you out, going to search for Husk to see if the cat was willing to show him another card trick. 

-

“Fuck, that was awesome.” You flopped down next to him in the car, grinning. “Best birthday ever.” You sighed, leaning your head against the window as the car drove off.

He glanced at you. “Good to know,” he chuckled. You sighed contentedly, and for a moment all was silent. 

“What were you saying, by the way?” He cleared his throat. “About, spending some time together, me and y- I mean, you’re probably tired-“ he looked away nervously, and you chuckled.

“Oh, I’m not tired,” you murmured, staring straight at him, and you watched his jaw tense and grip tighten. The air grew tense. 

“Good,” he muttered, so quiet you barely even heard him, then raised his voice again, repeating his word, more steady and louder this time. “Good.” 

-

“Luci?” You murmured, feeling his hands wrap around your waist, breath shaky on your neck. 

“Mhm?” His fingers teased the hem of your top, worming their way beneath the fabric to touch your bare skin. You shivered against his back. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You tried to keep your voice light and playful, but when he slowly pressed his hips against yours and bit down on your neck it dissipated into something breathy and shaky. 

“Spending some time alone with you.” 

You hummed, turning around to face him. His hands fell to your hips, squeezing gently as you flushed. “Really?”

He nodded, eyes flicking to your lips as he leaned in for a kiss. You pulled away, eyes locking onto his. “Bedroom?”

He grinned, sharp teeth glinting. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

-

“Fuck, Lucifer,” you gasped with him buried in between your legs, lapping at your cunt like a starved man. His hands dug into your thighs, and when you tried to squirm he’d leave a harsh slap on the soft skin, telling you to stay still.

“What’s this?” You grinned breathlessly, fighting to keep your voice even as you pushed yourself up. He pulled away, chin coated in your slick. The very sight made you throb. “You’ve never told me what to do in bed before.”

For a moment he was silent, eyes boring into your face, still against your legs like a statue. His fingers dug in a little deeper and you yelped. He pushed himself up onto you, pinning you down as he grabbed your wrists and held them above your head. He leaned close, teeth grazing over your neck. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He hissed. You throbbed again, the slickness between your thighs growing as your heart pounded against your ribcage. You wondered if he could hear it. 

“I-“

“Hush.” His lips began trailing your jaw and neck, leaving bites and hickeys in a trail. He slowly ground his hips against yours, and you whimpered before rubbing your thighs together, desperate for friction but only making the problem worse. “Tell me what you want.”

“I-“ you cut off, too breathless to speak. He’d never looked at you this way before. You’d never been in this position with him. “I want you to…”

“Mhm?” He coaxed gently, slowly rubbing his thumb against your clit. You arched your back, pressing your body against his. “Go on.”

“Fuck,” you hissed. “I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled, voice low before sitting back and away from you. His hands found his zipper. 

You looked around nervously, unable to look straight at him.

What was wrong with you? You’d never been with him like this before. Usually it was you on top of him, asking him what he wanted, making him beg for it, touching him-

What changed? 

You glanced at him nervously. 

You tried to calm your nerves. You’d asked for this. You’d asked for this for ages. Sitting up, your eyes followed his movements. 

His hands were on your hips again, pulling you to him and crushing his mouth on yours. All the breath sucked out of your lungs as you whimpered into the kiss, hand fondling the growing bulge in his pants. 

He bit down on your lip, and you both fell back into the covers. He pushed himself up, grinning uncontrollably down at you. “Fuck, angel, you look perfect.”

The praise made your heat burn even more, sending fire to your cheeks. It didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

He quickly got to undressing you, unbuttoning your shirt and sliding down your skirt, and you shuddered, reaching for the buttons on his own shirt. You pulled him in for another kiss, bodies pressed together. Warmth radiated from him like a beacon. 

His hands slipped their way in between your thighs again, pushing your legs open. A soft whimper escaped him when he saw how wet you were, and he licked his lips in anticipation. 

With one swift thrust he entered. You sucked in a harsh breath as he gave a small, exhilarated laugh, voice quivering with pleasure as your walls contracted around him. He pressed in deeper, and the deep kiss of his cock inside you made you throw your head back, bucking your hips up. 

“Fuck,” he burst out, and you felt a searing heat surround the two of you. You screwed your eyes shut, and when you finally opened them, you were gazing into red eyes instead of yellow ones. 

His wings had burst from his back, arching out behind him, and horns protruding from his head. He bit his lip, a worried expression on his face. “Shit, sorry angel. I got excited and I-“

“No it’s…” your eyes roved up and down his body. “It’s nice.” It’s hot was what you meant to say, and he must have sensed it too because he laughed as your hips bucked into him again. 

He grabbed your hips and pushed them back down. “Hush,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you this time.” But his voice was shaking and his face was flushed. You sank down, trying to relax as he pressed more kisses and love bites along your collarbone to your shoulder. 

Slowly he began moving, and a small moan slipped out of you, agonized by the slow pace. “Go faster,” you hissed, throwing an arm over your eyes.  

“Maybe if you ask nicely.” You could almost hear the grin in his voice. You sucked in a quivering breath. 

“Please, go faster.” 

He chuckled, satisfied, before picking up the pace. You dug your nails into his shoulders, eyes tearing up as it grew faster, almost brutal, and he leaned down to nibble at the shell of your ear, almost crushing you down into the bed below. It rocked underneath, the sound lain underneath the soft moans and grunts filling the room. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good,” he groaned. Another wet kiss to your jaw. “So good for me, hmm? My perfect angel.” Another snap of his hips along with the sweet nothings he whispered into your ears had you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back into your head, and he laughed quietly at the sight, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His tail snaked in between both your bodies, the tip swirling around your clit and making you let out a shaky, pleading moan. 

“Mhmm, so good for you,” you managed to gasp out through short, quick breaths, trying to catch your breath under his weight and his pace and the abuse of your clit. He nipped at your shoulder and you grabbed his face with shaking hands, pulling it to yours for a sloppy kiss. The pleasure built up to an unbearable pressure, waiting to be released. 

“I think I-“ you felt so good you thought you might die, hands falling away from Lucifer to grip and claw at the sheets beneath you. “I think I’m gonna cum-“

“Go ahead,” he whispered against your lips. “Cum for me, angel.”

You did, released around his cock, shockwaves of pleasure and relief turning your limbs numb. He fucked you through the orgasm, drawing it out long and slow, your whimpers and moans sounding like a sweet melody to him. “You look so pretty,” he groaned, breath hot on the shell of your ear. “Fuck- I think- I think I’m gonna cum too-“

You wrapped your arms around him, raking at his back, trails your fingernails were sure to leave burning on his pale skin. “Cum in me, Lucifer,” you gasped. Those words themselves were enough to make his cock throb, as he finished, cum feeling  hot inside you before he fucked it in deeper. You whimpered before he finally pulled out, flopping down beside you. Your brain had tuned out what he was saying, which was muffled through the haze of arousal. 

“…you, thank you, my good girl-“ He pressed his forehead against yours. “I fucking love you,” You shivered and he flopped down next to you, drawing you in close and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

“I love you too,” you murmured, on the verge of passing out. You rolled over so you could kiss him. 

“Happy birthday,” he chuckled anxiously. “Was it good?”

You wrapped your arms around him. “Best birthday gift I could have asked for.” 

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Commission by the amazing @astrolavas !!!!

Hunter and Gus taking Raine to a Weird Al show. Tickets? Check. Hawaiian Shirts? Check.

Raine has NO CLUE what they are in for.

One Shot Fan Fic below.

My MySpace Page is all totally pimped out! Got people begging for my top 8 spaces!

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Remember that one scene where Arthur is training with Merlin and Merlin is fighting for his life while Arthur repeatedly knocks him on his arse? I can’t remember what episode but it was early in season 1.

I like to imagine Merlin starts being sarcastic with every hit in hopes it’ll piss Arthur off enough to storm off and leave him alone. It backfires when Arthur starts replying and it turns into a venting session.

Like, Uther said some dumb shit about Arthur? Merlin starts a fight about it.

The knights can’t follow orders? Merlin is disobedient enough that Arthur starts yelling about how dangerous it is when his men don’t follow orders.

Arthur’s feeling bad about someone he couldn’t save? Merlin makes him see why he’s doing enough by arguing with him about it and reminding him that he’s only human.

And Arthur knows what he’s doing, he catches on eventually and will occasionally walk up to Merlin, push his shoulder only enough to be annoying until Merlin stops whatever he’s doing, then Arthur will just say “Fight me.” and Merlin will either say something he knows will get Arthur angry or he’ll throw a punch he knows Arthur will block and they’ll start sparring. (Merlin learns to fight eventually, neither of them realise it’s happening until he sucker punches a bandit and he’s out cold)

Anyway, it becomes something they do to help Arthur vent his frustrations.

The best part? It works.

So Arthur sees Merlin upset. It goes on for about a week when Arthur realises what’s going on. He sits down next to Merlin on the floor one night, nudges his shoulder like he would if he wanted to fight, and says, “why are you upset? It’s not like you’ve got anything to worry about.” In a purposefully taunting way.

Merlin scowls and keeps working, and Arthur tries again, “Really. All you do is follow orders. It’s not hard.”

And so Merlin looks up, clearly angry until he sees what Arthur is trying to do, so he puts down what he’s doing and starts fighting back, “no, just exhausting when those orders are given by a prat.” Or “Maybe if I had a day off once in a while.” I don’t know, I suck at dialogue.

It goes on for a while, until they get too close to the issue, Merlin snaps, tells Arthur he’s a dick and sobs, yelling about magic, and the great dragon being manipulative, loosing his father, loosing Freya, Gaius lying to him about his father and thinking Uther is a good king and a good man, and literally everything else that’s gone wrong.

Arthur pulls him in and hugs him, then tells Merlin they’re fighting together from here on out. It takes a while, but they work it out.

There’s plenty of “fights” about Arthur feeling betrayed by Merlin keeping secrets and Merlin being mad at his situation in Camelot and then being frustrated that he can’t get himself to feel angry at Arthur (I’ve got a half baked character analysis for Merlin and Arthur’s codependency somewhere in my drafts. I’ll come back to it eventually.) but they’re okay and they figure it out and end up stronger for it.

I’m holding back on sharing the major character death/dark!Arthur angsty alternate ending for this, but let me know if you want to see it :)

Edit: Part 2 - (the angsty alternate ending)

[deityoftherain]

Even Ice Walls Fall Down Fanfic Memes

This is just a little collection of memes I made for @watcheraurora 's ranchers-centric superpowers au, particularly the third major installment, that you can find under the cut! Spoilers ahead! You have been warned!

If you haven't read the fic yet, I highly recommend it! It's so good!

[shouyuus]

hi rain !! i hope u are doing so well!! ive bever requested before so i hope i do this right

can i please request osamu, sun, tsukki, and/or whoever u want hurt comfort? would make my year <3 ive been having a tough time mentally :<

again, hope youre well!!

30 under 30 bday event!

all's fair

tsukishima kei; fluff/hurt/comfort; im so sry ur not having a gucci time bby!!! hope this makes it a bit better! and thank u for sending in a req!!!

─── 月島 SO HE FINDS YOU like this — with your knees pulled up to your chest, chin tucked, staring at nothing in particular, your back against the wall, toes curling into the soft of the bedsheets.

“oi. dinner’s ready.”

you sigh, pouting as you glance up at him with faraway eyes. a spate of unease moves through him even as he narrows his eyes and lowers himself carefully onto the edge of the bed. the mattress shifts and for a few seconds, he watches you in silence. it isn’t till you loosen your muscles, letting your foot slide forward a few inches to nudge against his leg that he lets out a sigh and reaches over to pull you to him.

“what is it?” he asks, and though he tries his level best to sound annoyed, you hear the sliver of concern threaded between his words. his touch is gentle as he curves around your back, holding you as an expanse of shore might hold a tumultuous sea— patient and open and unafraid of whatever the storms might bring.

“just… not fair,” you mumble, melting easily into his embrace.

“tch. lots of things aren’t fair — got anything specific you wanna complain about?”

you crinkle your nose, eyes flickering down to where his hands are curled around yours. you turn your palm and link your fingers. the weight of his palm steadies your racing thoughts as he starts to run soft circles into your skin with his thumb.

“just… life.”

at this, he laughs — not an unkind sound, but he quirks an eyebrow nonetheless.

“wow. there’s a revelation.”

you frown, pressing back against him till he’s got you cradled against his chest. he sighs, shifting his legs on either side of your body.

“yeah,” he says after another brief bout of quiet, and you turn to slate him a glance, “but… well, we’ve got each other,” and for once, his voice isn’t flat, but tender, nuanced, as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, the motion pressing his cheek against yours, “and that’s kinda nice.”

you giggle despite yourself.

“yeah. guess so.”

it’s perhaps not the overt, loud, declarative kind of comfort that some might expect, but then, tsukishima kei is not exactly known for loud, declarative anything.

and, you think settling back into him as you both sink into a comfortable silence, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

final wc: 407|| be part of my taglist!

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[tartagliove]

Tartaglia sees you in the rain with sparkling droplets of water clinging to your lashes and hair, sliding down the column of your throat and making your lips oh so glossy. He could dry you off with a flick of his wrist and the use of his vision, but then you look at him through those crystal-laden eyelashes with the sweetest curve to your lips. He decides right then and there that he’s gifting you strings of diamonds for your wedding—and you’ll wear nothing else for your wedding night.

[thunder-wolf64]

I Have A Proposition

-by thunder-wolf64

I will write this type of thing for each slugcat if you guys like this. Essentially Enot makes deals and guides the souls of this world to their ending. Giving them all that they have agreed upon. Today, Enot's target is Survivor.

Cw for body horror (Enot is looking a bit funky), and Survivor spoilers.

Story is under the cut!

Survivor dives under water and into the pipe, dropping into the complex system of underwater tunnels. The ball of thin white fur makes a large splash as she hits the water. Her two-toed paws scramble beneath the surface to pull her through the water. The slugcat surfaces with a gasp and drags herself up onto a metal platform. Cold water drips from her body and she shakes the liquid off. Wiping the stray fur out of her eyes, she notices some blue fruit hanging from the ceiling. She eagerly jumps for it, grabbing it in her paws and stuffing it into her mouth. She reaches for the next one before finishing her first.

“It’s rude of you not to share,” A voice echoes down the pipes.

Survivor jumps, choking on the food in her mouth and missing the jump for the other fruit. “-Ack cough cough What-” Survivor turns and her annoyed tone quickly comes to a halt as she sees what is infront of her.

A much larger, navy blue, and strangely-angled slugcat looks down at her. A crooked smile stretches across its unusually long maw, “Ah, thanks for leaving me some, I am starving.” The slugcat walks forwards, past Survivor, and easily pulls the fruit from the ceiling.

Survivor’s fur spikes up as she steps back from that creature. She hopes that this is not what slugcats from inside the walls look like, otherwise she would be completely out of place. “Who are you?” she wipes residual blue juices from the fur on her chin.

“Thanks for asking,” the slugcat has already engulfed several fruits, “I have lots of names, but Enot is probably the easiest for you to wrap your head around.” Enot’s bones seem almost broken in how its limbs bend, bad posture at its finest. “No need to introduce yourself, I already know all about you, the one who was washed away.”

Survivor can practically hear Enot’s bones cracking as it bends down to be at her eye level. “I think I’ll be going now.” If she's learned anything, it's that everything is a threat. It's time to go, she thinks. Whatever this thing is, it is not like me, how did it even get here, there's not a drop of water on its fur?

“Going where; to your family?” Enot smiles even larger, “You can’t make it home, It’s impossible.”

“And how do you know-” Survivor is quickly cut off.

“You’re right, how bold of me to assume you even want to go home! Maybe this was all planned.” Enot taps a long pointed finger on its chin.

“You have it all wrong. I miss my family, I would love to see them again, I just don’t know how. I could never comprehend the vastness inside the walls.” Survivor tries her best to reason with herself.

Enots eyes close slightly, the piercing-ness of them becoming less frightening and more smug. “Oh, I can help you see your family again. You will have to give up on this place though.” Enot sticks his tongue in disgust. “You would go on the journey of a thousand lifetimes! You'll have many stories to tell when you make it there, to the place you hold dear.” Enot moves closer, “It’s never failed to complete anyone else's story.”

Survivor cringes as she gets a closer look at Enot's unusual anatomy, flat broad teeth, strange eyes, vein-like stripes. Was this more than a slugcat? Survivor had of course heard rumors of gods before. Could this creature actually help? “You want to help me get home. Is that what I’m hearing?”

Enot nods, “Yes, yes, yes, You’re getting it! I'll get you on the fast-track to your ending! Otherwise you could wander this land for many cycles, every moment more confusing than the last.”

“You sure I will be home?” Survivor still speaks with skepticism.

“Whatever home means to you, Survivor,” Enot ensures.

“And how do you make this happen?” Survivor finally rests comfortably on her haunches, not looking like she's ready to bolt at a moment's notice. “I don’t have to, like, go on a murder spree in your name?”

“Nuh-uh, just shake my paw and the deal is sealed. And I will tell you everything you need to know!” Enot blinks its eyes, flaunting its long eyelashes.

Survivor holds out her paw expectantly, “Let’s just get this done.”

“Mhm, finally an eager one!” Enot’s blue paw meets in Survivor’s white one. A foul feeling prickles under Survivors skin but she holds on tight. Enot pulls her closer and gently taps on her scared nose, “Boop!” It laughs and lets go of Survivor’s hand. “Now try using that sniffer of yours, you'll find some new tweaks,” It winks.

Survivor twitches her nose, but breathes in deep, closing her eyes, visualizing the world around her, new scents reveal new paths that she hadn't found. “What Is this?” She asks, with her eyes still closed.

“Your way home, you’ll meet someone who will tell you the rest of the way, just follow their instructions and mine.” Enot stares at Survivor silently for a few more moments before dashing off and diving into the water.

Survivor tries to follow, but when she reaches the surface of the water, it’s completely undisturbed, the strange slugcat had vanished. The only thing she could do now was follow what she has left… I’ll be home soon, I swear.

---

End.

I will hold a poll later for the next scug Enot will interact with. If this gets enough attention, that is!

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── Kiss ‘n’ Cold ── ✦.

♡ Bff!Chris x Bff!Fem!Reader

⚠︎ Warnings : Mutual Pining, Fluff, best-friends who share a kiss (smooch), Rainnnn, mention of a pet name (sweetheart)

♡ Wc : 1.3k

♡ A/N : Have you ever had a kiss in the rain moment? I’ve only ever had it once, I’m not normally a fan of the rain cause it’s cold and wet lmao. Also wanted to write a fluff thing for Chris cause I need to write more for him :(

Fall was your favorite time of the year, of course Chris knew that, he was your best friend. Lounging around inside his house wasn’t how you really saw your day being spent, and he could see that.

Chris looked over at you with a playful smile, his eyes bright with an idea. "Hey, why don't we go for a walk to the park?" he suggested, his voice carrying that familiar warmth that made your heart thump every time you heard it.

It was a simple request, one you guys had done a hundred times before. Without hesitation, you nodded, getting up off the couch to slip your shoes on. Chris followed in tow, slipping his shoes on as well.

You paused momentarily, turning to Chris after your shoes were on and your scarf was wrapped around your neck. “I don’t have a jacket Chris.” You stated. Your big eyes looking into his, having asked a question without needing to speak.

He just smiled again, moving from his spot on the couch to a closet by the front door, pulling out two different zip up jackets that were his. He turned to face you, holding the fabric items in his hands. “Which one do you want sweetheart?” He asked.

You stood there analyzing the two jackets, a dark grey zip up and a more fluffy zip up. Of course after looking at the two options, you chose the fuzzy one. Chris nodded when you pointed to the one you’d like, moving toward your frame and spilling the jacket over your shoulders.

You smiled at him, looping your arms in and zipping the jacket up while Chris put the other one on. “Alright,” Chris started, walking toward the front door. “You ready to go?” He asked, turning the knob and opening the door for you.

You nodded eagerly, walking through the door as he held it open. He followed suit, closing the door and locking it before he turned and held his arm out for you to take. You obliged, looping your arm through his own as you guys started to walk.

The air was crisp, fallen leaves crunching under the weight of your feet. It was chilly, but not enough to be deathly cold, the jacket providing extra warmth. There was a comforting silence between you both, not needing to say a word to just enjoy each others company.

You hummed softly, kicking little piles of leaves. Chris watched, lips tugging up into a smile.

“You know, we should get hot chocolate.” You stated, turning your head to now look at Chris as you continued to walk. He hummed, “we’d have to walk so far for that though.” He whined, lips turning into a pout.

You shook your head, eyes rolling as you laughed at his childlike behavior. “A little walking never hurt no one, besides we’re already out and I know there’s a place up the way!” You cheered excitedly. Chris couldn’t keep up his pout for long, seeing how happy you were. So he just nodded, “okay okay — let’s go get your hot chocolate.”

-

You guys had been walking for about 20 minutes now, the hot chocolate place just a few more blocks up. The whole way you and Chris had been talking nonsense, laughing at one another’s jokes and bad puns.

Though mid laugh, you noticed the sky turning darker. Casting a gloomy look over the town, the wind growing a little more chilly.

You tapped Chris’ arm, his laughing stopping as well. “Chris, I think it’s going to rain.” You whispered softly, eyes gazing up into the sky as more dark clouds seemed to roll in.

Chris groaned, “well so much for our nice walk.” He muttered, kicking the ground slightly. You giggled, watching as he basically threw a small tantrum. “You know Chris, rain isn’t all that bad. I actually enjoy it.” You say, holding your hand out in front of yourself.

The first drops of rain fell softly against your hand, almost unnoticed at first. But, soon the sky opened up, the once light drops becoming heavy, drenching both you and chris as you walked side by side.

Your legs continued to move as the rain drenched both your clothes. The items clinging to your skins, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Chris on the other hand, didn’t like the rain as much as you did. Silently complaining under his breath as he began to grow cold.

You thought to yourself for a moment, breathing in the now earthy smell of the air. “You know Chris, I’ve never kissed anyone in the rain.” You say, Chris’ brows pinching in confusion as his eyes looked at you.

“You mean like from those mushy romance movies, where they confess their love for one another n’ shit?” He asked, faking a gross expression.

“Yes like those you weirdo.” You said, rolling your eyes at him. He chuckled, his eyes lingering on you a little longer. He couldn’t help but notice your cheeks now more pink from the cold, your nose the same shade. It made you look adorable. Your hair sticking slightly to your wet skin.

Chris stopped dead in his tracks, your interlinked arms tugging you back slightly as you turned to look at him in confusion. “Chris, why’d you stop?” You say, the sound of rain muffling your words slightly. He just looked at you, his own face pink from the coldness of the rain.

He gently pulled you toward him, your feet carrying you without hesitation. His arms wrapping around your back, practically holding your wet body against his own. Your head tilted to the side, brows pinched together.

“Do you want to have it?” He asked, his right hand coming up to your face, thumb brushing against your cheek softly. You froze, face now heating up at what he may be implying. “You — what do you mean?” You mumbled, tongue darting out to lick your lips, collecting water in the process.

Chris leaned forward more, “I mean, do you want to have it. Cause I’ll give it to you.” He said. You could feel his warm breath fan across your face despite the cold weather. “You mean..you’ll kiss me?” You asked, your head tilting up more to look at him better.

He nodded, the hand on your waist gripping you slightly tighter. “If that’s what you want, I’ll be happy to give it to you.” He said again, and you just stared at him, dumbfounded for a few moments. But once his words registered in your head, you couldn’t help the butterflies you felt. So you quickly nodded your head, a silent answer to his question.

He smiled, his right hand now gripping your chin softly as he pulled your face to his own. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips meeting each others. Surprisingly, his lips were warm despite the water that decorated his features.

The rain poured down around you both, the world a blur of gray and mist, but all you could focus on was Chris. His hands cradled your face, his touch gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was still unsure this was real. Your lips met in a kiss that was soft, yet full of everything you had held back for so long—years of friendship, of unspoken words, of wanting.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and shivering from the cold, Chris rested his forehead against yours, his eyes half-closed, a smile tugging at his lips. “You know,” he whispered, his voice barely louder than the rain, “I think I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.” You laughed softly, heart swelling as you looked into his eyes, and in that moment, the chill of the rain was forgotten, replaced only by the warmth between you guys.

“I never thought you’d be willing to make my kiss in the rain come true.” You whispered back before you pushed your head forward once again, capturing his lips once more.

© Strnilolover

♡ A/N : you both might catch a cold with how long you both were in the rain for. But I’m sure it was worth it. (Sorry if this seems dragged on)