#really catch at first but once you pick up on it you kind of cant stop noticing it. i also think theyd sometimes have similar facial expres+

[a-thousand-eyes-and-one]

one of my fav targ facial traits that i made up in my head is huge sad wet cat eyes like ella purnell level huge. notable havers of this trait are as follows: daenys, aenys, daella, naerys, egg, helaena, brynden rivers, jaehaerys II, rhaegar, dany, jon

photo example ⬇️

[lucaslovescats]

Pink heart, pink helmet - Demitra kalogeras x male!reader (fluff)

Tw: None!!!

Requested!! (Male reader teaches Demitra how to skate)

Authors note: I loved writing this so much!!! So sorry for the delay, life is hard

Word count: 750 (approx)

Demitra💖

What should I wear?

You

Wear something simple, like a shirt and some pants

Since you do need protection

Demitra 💖

I cant just wear yours?

You

Nah, doubt they fit

But we can buy you some next to the park

They sell them in all colors, definitely going to be some you like

Demitra💖

Even in pink?

You

Even in pink, baby

—

You open the store's door, signature squeal being heard as the glass door slides against the wood floor. You stepped aside, letting Demitra go in before going in yourself.

It's a small, comfortable store with the basics. Wax, guards, helmets... basically everything you need to start out, just insanely overpriced

Demitra walks towards the helmet section, immediately starting to look around through different options, picking a few up even but none really catch her eye.

"Do you think I should get this one?" She asks after a few minutes, showing a baby pink helmet with different kinds of pink stars.

"I think you should check out the guards first, get ten matching and all" you say after considering it for a while, knowing she probably wants her elbow and knee protectors to match her helmet. “Maybe I should” she says, smiling at you before walking with you towards the side of the store with protectors

—

On the way to the park, Demitra looked excited. Both of you engaged in some conversation talking about whatever came to your minds, but as you give her a simple explanation on the first step, she looks far too worried for such a simple thing, eyebrows furrowed and pout visible

The step was simple, just getting on the skateboard and then learning how to keep her balance for a few seconds

"Are you sure this is like, enough protection?" She ask, uncertain . You giggle a bit, think on how you watched people first get on the skateboard with nothing to protect them self in areas were the ground is hard to skate on. “Mitra, I’ve seen people start skating barefoot and shirtless on the streets next to the beach, you will be fine"

With that, she takes a little nod, bracing herself to get on, but not before she grabs your hard tight. Once on it, she looks a little dubious of raising her leg, even if you're right there, still holding tight “Promise me if I fall you will catch me" she says, head turning to face you. "Always" You reply, almost as if it's a fact. Which, at least to you, it was. She raises her leg for no longer than five seconds before quickly putting it down on the floor, and repeats this a few times before she starts moving the skateboard slightly.

She smiles at her progress, looking down slightly at you before immediately looking forward, like you taught her on the way here.

You look up at her, following at the same speed, smiling at her progress too. Maybe being a teacher wasn’t so bad after all, or atleast, being Demitras teacher wasn’t.

In the end, you spend hours in the park. She insists on you holding her hand for the first few minutes of trying something new and once she feels sure enough, she makes you trail slowly behind her everytime she moves, you hands out as if you were following a clumsy toddler learning how to walk, but it's the prettiest girl you've ever seen, who also happens to be your girlfriend, learning how to skate because she wants to do this with you.

You catch her every time she gets unsteady, sometimes even stopping her even though she wouldn’t fall, and everytime she would whispers a little “thanks” and kiss you wherever. On your hands, arms, shoulders, wherever of yours was closer to her head at the time. She only falls once, and that one time is on top of you. You're not hurt and neither is sle, but it does end up with both of you laughing on the floor for a lot longer than you should have, not being able to get up as each time would just be met with another wave of laughter from one of you.

All things considered, the first class went well.

[hanta-seros-wifey]

something in the orange| fratboy!katsuki bakugo x f!softgirl!reader

summary: childhood competitive friends take a college cooking course together for fun. katsuki bakugo, our amazing frat boy, and y/n, our amazing soft hearted girl. katsuki has a soft spot for her, but because of his ego won't let it show. denki being denki, lets a secret spill out which can ultimately make or break your friendship with katsuki bakugo

authors note: reader is best friends with denki, sero, kyoka, and tenya!!

chapter 1: history

“cmon kats!” 6 year old you yelled out as you ran to the swings. “i’ll beat you!” he said as he picked up his pace to catch up. you reached the swings first and did your victory dance upon beating him. “who’s the loser now” you taunted and katsuki only scoffed and kicked the woodchips under him.

he walked away leaving you confused and sad. it was then your competitive friendship began. was it a friendship? you would call it that yes. he would taunt you and you’d do the same back. it got worse upon reaching middle school.

“loser i got an A” he shoved his math test in your face as he looked down at yours which said a C+. “fuck you katsuki” you said shoving him and getting up. “how are you gonna let the nerd beat you?” he taunts after you pointing over at izuku who had an A as well on his math test.

“just shut the fuck up for once” you said and walked out. it carried on like that in middle school and high school. “im applying to UA University how bout you?” you told izuku as he stammered to say he was applying there too.

“you losers wont get in, especially you princess” he teases you and you scoff. “it has a 10% acceptance rate theres no way they’ll accept the 3 of us” he said trying to reason with you. one thing about katsuki bakugo, he can be a dick to everyone including you, but there was a limit for you.

we can call it a soft spot for sure. he wont let his ego show it though. you applied anyway and three months later got the acceptance. you facetimed katsuki. “GUESS WHAT LOSER” you yelled into the camera as you held up your letter of acceptance. “I GOT IN!” you exclaimed jumping around your room.

“knew it dumbass” he smirked and held his up too. “guess we’ll be going to college together” he grumbles as if it bothers him. he’s actually glad. it means he gets to see you more.

“got a scholarship though” he brags leaning back in his chair. “for track and field no way?” you said a little bit jealous. you both were on the track team and you think youre pretty good at the events you do, but katsuki getting a scholarship is just another reason why he’s better than you.

“dont let it get out i want it to be a surprise” he winks at you and you roll your eyes. “what’d you apply as?” you ask him and he smirks. “applied for computer science and you?” he asks you. “dance” you said sheepishly as you looked at him through the camera. his face turns into one of shock.

“its hard to get into the college of dance and you got in?” he says his face turning into a smile. “yea” you said hiding your face now. “looks like you’ve one upped me this time princess” he teases and you smile. “well i gotta go katsuki congratulations” you said sincerely.

“bye congratulations to you too” he said before turning off the facetime. you blush as you got up. your stupid big crush on katsuki only growing stronger. you cant do anything about it though. which is why when you get to college, its time for boy searching.

●~*

your parents helped you settle into your dorm. what you really liked about the dorm system in this school, was 1. that it was co-ed and 2. you had a room to yourself. "hey! just popping in to see who my neighbor is!" you hear and you turn to see a tall woman with a kind smile.

"hi im y/n, its so nice to meet you! and yours?" you asked trailing off as you reached to shake her hand. "momo yayorozu, its nice to meet you too! i live to the left of you 5C on your right it's a male in 5E" she informed you. you nodded your head and smiled at her.

"well i'll see you around" she waves and walks off to the stairs. "okay were done here sweetie" your mom said grabbing her bag and you smiled at her. your other mom kissed your head and pulled you in for a hug. "have fun, but not too much" she squeezes you.

"let me walk you guys out" you said closing your dorm, locking it. you walk down the flight of stairs and when reaching the fourth floor your moms let out a gasp. "mitsuki bakugo?" they giggled as they moved to hug their longtime friend. you looked at katsuki as he stared at you confused.

"youre dorming in this building too?" he asks you bothered at the fact you chose this building. you nodded and forced your moms to leave. katsuki smirked before going into his dorm and locking it, bidding a goodbye to his mom.

you walked back up to the fifth floor and when doing so collided with two others. you looked up to see a boy with half white and half red hair and another with a mullet. “woah slow down” the one with the mullet joked.

“let me guess are you a todoroki?” you asked looking up at the boy and he sighs nodding yes. “nice to meet you” you smiled and he gave a tight lipped one back. “hanta sero” mullet boy introduces and takes your hand kissing it.

perfect, you thought.

you blushed at his actions and proceeded to tell both boys your name. “i live in 5D” you said and hanta smiled. “awesome im in 5E” he informs you and you recall momo telling you a male was to your right. “well nice to meet you neighbor” you winked and walked off. “i didnt get to tell her my name” you heard todoroki say and you giggled entering your room.

a knock was heard at your door and you moved to open it. “why are you in this building” katsuki demanded as he walked in. “welcome?” you questioned closing your door. “yeah whatever why-“ he was interrupted by a knock on your door. you opened it to see hanta and you smiled.

he leaned against your door frame and smiled at you. katsuki scoffed in annoyance. “hey señorita came to give this to you” he said handing you your wallet. you grabbed it from him thanking him.

“already have a boy over you move fast” he teased as he looked at katsuki standing not far from you. “just my childhood frenemy” you rolled your eyes looking at katsuki. “yea you interrupted something can you get the fuck out?” he grumbled and you slapped his arm.

“dont be fucking rude” you said giving him attitude and you turned back to sero. “came to ask you something too” he said nervously as he looked down at his feet and then back to you. “would you like to grab coffee sometime on campus?” he asks and you immediately nod your head.

he smiles at you bidding you a goodbye and you closed your door. “already looking for a man?” katsuki scoffed and laughed lightly. “im an 18 year old girl of course i am” you said matter of factly.

“i was thinking” he starts and you look up at him. “you haven’t registered for classes yet have you?” he asks and you nod your head. “i did but we can still add some to our schedule if we’d like” you said moving around him to place your wallet on your desk.

“they offer a cooking class for fun, wanna take it together?” he says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “are you challenging me katsuki or do you just wanna spend time with me?” you smiled sweetly at him.

your smile made his heart melt and he covered it up by just smirking at you again. “a challenge see who gets the better grade” he said and you think about it. “deal” you said holding your hand out. he shakes it sealing the deal. “im so gonna win” he scoffs and you stick your tongue out at him.

[junowritings]

hi there ! i love your writing! could i request floyd with reader who genuinely cant tell if someone is being platonic or romantic to them; maybe them finally realizing floyd's affections towards them aren't just platonic? ty!!

Oooh all I can say is my condolences to poor reader lmao. Had so much fun imagining how this would pan out this was a cute idea! I'm glad you enjoy my stuff - hope you enjoy~ 🧡

=======

♡ Oh, well this is going to be so much fun for Floyd.

♡ Floyd recognizes a crush when he sees one. You’re a good match - you keep him entertained, and have the uncanny knack to get him to actually do things he’d usually get too bored of and ditch at a moment’s notice (Azul’s been trying to figure out how you manage that with no success because you have no idea why he listens to you either). Not to mention all of those cute little quirks and things that you do which the eel just can’t get enough of. 

♡ And of course there’s your reactions too. The way your lips quirk when you smile, the sound of your laugh and the noises of surprise you make when he swoops in when you’re least expecting him. The way that you squirm when he pulls you into those notorious squeezes of his, thankfully nowhere near as bone crushingly tight as the ones that he’s subjected some poor unfortunate souls to. Floyd adores getting any kind of response out of you.

♡ It is glaringly obvious that he’s interested in you, at least to everyone else, and Floyd’s got no problem making it known either. The only issue is that you haven’t noticed yet. It would get on his nerves a little knowing that you have no idea that his affection isn’t just platonic, but that quickly fades once he realizes how fun this has the potential of being. Just how far can he push that obviousness until you finally realize he’s interested in ya?

♡ It’s light teasing at first. Well, as light as it can be coming from a Leech twin. Floyd’s already naturally pretty casual with acts of intimacy, always throwing an arm over your shoulder or leaning up against you whenever he’s in the nearby vicinity. So why should you assume anything’s up when that arm on your shoulder squeezes you close against his side, and lingers a little longer than normal? Or that he's just a little bit clingier than usual, resting his head atop yours or on your shoulder and looping an arm or two around your side whenever you’re near each other?

♡ But then come the little gifts. Little things that have caught his eye and he doesn’t think twice about dropping into your hands the second that he sees you. Gifts from Floyd can really be anything, from things he’s found and borrowed but ‘forgot’ to give back, to things he’s gotten from trips back home and practically shoved into your hands the second he’s back. You start to question the reason behind his gifts, and start to notice other signs too. 

♡ When you come to the Monstro lounge Floyd will take food from the kitchen and add them on as freebies whenever he feels like it. He doesn’t bother telling Azul or Jade, but they’re already well aware and aren’t entirely inclined to stop him since getting you to spend time at the lounge means Floyd’s a lot easier to manage. 

♡ Gets upset if you share it with your other friends though - it’s for you, and he’ll say as much when he pushes the treat closer towards you, making sure to keep it out of your friend’s reach. Ace complained once about all the freebies you’re getting, trying to prod you to find out what you did to get the Leech twin in such a good mood and if he could convince you to get him in the eel’s good books, all the while trying to steal a bite from the free dessert you’re picking at with your fork. That is until he catches Floyd looking at him from at the bar; he’s grinning but there’s not a hint of the fondness like when he looks at you. The message is clear - hands off, and you’ve never seen Ace give up on stealing your food so fast in your life as he almost shoves the dish into your blazer pushing it back to you.

♡ You’ve always struggled to discern platonic from romantic feelings, not wanting to immediately assume one and get it wrong only to make things awkward afterwards. So even once you suspect that something’s up, it’s hard to work up the courage to actually approach it. You doubt Floyd would make things awkward if you were wrong, but you doubt your pride could handle the relentless poking and prodding he’d subject your feelings to if you were wrong about him liking you. Staying quiet about it and just enjoying these little moments seems like the safest bet, right?

♡ You made the mistake of asking his brother once, but that was no help at all. If anything it left you feeling even more confused because do you really think that Jade will break the surprise so soon? Floyd isn’t the only one getting a kick out of watching you struggle to put the pieces together, and Jade is thoroughly entertained learning how oblivious you can be to what Floyd’s actually trying to do. Those little gifts of his aren’t just for show - they’re telltale signs of a merfolk’s interest to date you. Oh dear, it really is such a shame that he forgot to mention that little tidbit to you, isn’t it?

♡ There is a point where things get serious. The moment that Floyd decides that he’s fed up toying around and running circles around these feelings. Gets a little miffed realizing that you still haven’t figured out that these little gestures aren’t just something he’s doing for the hell of it - sure, they’re entertaining, but his patience wavers quickly at the best of times. Eventually, Floyd’s going to get tired of this game. Playing games with you is fun, and he loooooves teasing his lil Shrimpy and watching your face turn into all different funny expressions while you try to figure out what exactly his angle is. But there are better things to play, and this back and forth is coming to an end sooner rather than later.

♡ Doesn’t care where it is or who’s around to notice, as soon as he sees you after deciding he’s done messing about you barely have enough time to greet him and ask what he’s doing before you are quite literally swept off of your feet with the force of his hug. His arms are tight around you as he hugs you close, and it’s just tight enough that you have a sinking feeling that he’s going to squeeze you like you’ve seen him do to the people who break Azul’s contracts. You’re trying to wrack your brain to figure out what perceived slight you did to earn the backbreaking squeeze you’re sure he’s about to give you, maybe even mentally leaving Grim all of Ramshackle’s tuna in your imaginary will. Then he stops, chin hooking over your shoulder and that one dark strand of his hair tickling your face as he presses his cheek against yours with

♡ “Hey, Shrimpy~ ya know, you got to be real dense to miss that I really like you. Maybe I gotta prove it~?”

♡ The whole time he’s saying this, Floyd is dangerously close to giving you a nibble or two. Your only saving grace is that he’s much too interested in the reaction that you give him once you realize what he’s said. His mismatched eyes rake in every detail; the way your eyes widen almost comically, mouth dropping open like a fish trying to sputter your way through some kind of response to what was basically a confession. It’s so funny! This is the reaction he’d been waiting for, and he’s not gonna relent until you really understand that this is way more than simply liking you.

♡ Let’s just hope you don’t mind the squeezes, because that’s not letting up either. Why would he let his shrimpy go when it’s better to just keep em right by his side? Especially when he wants to hear what you’ve got to say now that you don’t have to stress your silly little head over if he likes you or not~

[the-s1lly-corner]

The TADC cast with a reader who’s a fluffy droopy eared bunny like the picture above.

Those eyes have absolutely no thoughts behind them just vibes (that may or may not include various types of cake)

Readers just a little fella,an absolute pal.they give soft plush hugs but the catch is that their like 7’5 tall.their super kind and patient and somehow always know what to say or do to help the cast.

(Also…JAX FIDGET HC!! He totally flops their ears about)

TADC cast x big soft silly plushie bunny!reader!!!!!

uueueueue the macarons i made earlier ended up so good!! easily some of the nicest and prettiest ones i made recently; not like bakery level pretty but none of them collapsed or cracked! main issue is that some of them kind of have a tip or bump on the top from the piping!! otherwise theyre solid!! gonna answer some stuff then i might go draw then hit the sack

CAINE:

i like to think that he took one of your ears in each of his hands and lifted them up, messing with them a bit before letting them flop down to your sides. has probably tried to blow you away with spectacles and grand gestures only for you to blink dully at him... oh... was he saying something..? you werent really paying attention... always reties your bow/bowtie when it comes undone, he cant have you not being ... not presentable..! very much endeared by your sweet demeanor and very loudly asks for hugs every now and then

POMNI:

has probably waved her hand in front of your face to see if you were awake and/or alive, genuinely thought that you were a real normal plushie the first time she saw you. got jumpscared when you slowly moved your head to look at her. oh dear! please reassure her that everything is fine!

since shes new you have taken to hovering around her during IHAs to make sure shes safe.. you have probably picked her up to your chest and made a run for it. like literally just pomni held flat to you and you just running with her. silly, i think

RAGATHA:

one of my favorite ragatha headcannons that lowkey becoming a given and my go to; she makes you accessories to go on your ears! bows and ribbons and the like! she thinks you look so so cute; vaguely reminds her of a bunny doll she used to have in her childhood, at least thats her guess judging by the warped and murky memories of her old life in the real world. has accidentally left you behind because you were spacing out and thinking about whatever it is that goes on in your head... thinks youre as sweet as can be, probably calls you "carrot cake" or something along the lines

"sweetie bell"

sits

JAX:

messes with your long droopy ears. not uncommon for him to just grab one and run his thumb over you false fur and fabric. he thinks youre too soft; literally and metaphorically. you make a great cuddle buddy and give great hugs, but youre just too nice for your own good. and on the off chance that youre actually paying attention when hes setting up a prank for someone, you put a stop to it. pulling pranks is mean, especially jax's style of pranks! you cant have that!

jax definitely pouts off to the side when you sabotage him.. youd think the two bunny folk would get along with one another!

well its not like you guys dont get along, youre too nice for that and sometimes i feel like jax's conscious would step in at least once and he would try to be nicer to you, at least for a day

KINGER:

sometimes he likes snuggling into you within the pillow fort, your body is just so soft and warm and comforting, youre literally just a giant teddy bear- er... bunny! stuffed bunny! honestly he probably hangs around you more than he would hang around a normal reader simply because youre just so sweet and soft, as well as inviting. you both tend to space out together.. do you think he accidentally put you in the walls of his pillow fort, before he realized you were a whole person ? like do i think kinger is that dense? no, but i do think that the thought it really really funny and silly and i can definitely see it as a gag

ZOOBLE:

tries to pretend that theyre not into how soft and comfy you are.... but they find themselves subtly leaning into you when youre nearby. i would say that they would be blunt with wanting to be held or wanting a hug like they are with everything else.. but i think when it comes to affection, zooble can be a little... eh... like theyre bad at saying what they want when they want it, at least verbally.. your softness makes up for the fact that they feel like those hard plastic kids toys

sometimes get a little annoyed by your... empty eyed look... because sometimes its really hard to tell when youre paying attention or not

GANGLE:

love love loves snuggling into you after a rough day, bonus if youre fixing up her comedy mask while she presses her other masked-face into your fluff and venting about her day. oh that jax is so so mean! please rub her back... her.. ribbons, actually. honestly hugs from you are s tier and the very best because as said several times before, youre really soft and comfortable. you guys tend to lock yourselves up in gangles room and hang out when a IHA isnt going on; and thats just fine with the both of you because you have one anothers company

[shortcakecuties]

HxH squad with a Madoka Kaname!reader 💫

Hii yall!! Its my first hcs!!! Might be ooc ^^; all of these are platonic btw!!

Gon ☆

He finds a portal to a labyrinth somehow and he was curious enough to go through it...

When he found his way to the actual witch and saw you fighting for your life, he was amazed at your skills and without nen?!

Hes literally mesmerised but he knew he had to help you!

He tries to help you with his own nen and eventually both of u are literally friends!!

He invites you to the friend group and you meet the rest of them that way.

When you tell him the truth of your job as a magical girl, hes disturbed and denied it by promising he wont ever let you turn into a witch!!! Spoiler alert: he failed...

Doesnt think your wish was in vain!

Trains with you constantly due to a fear of you turning into a witch.

He finds your kindness admirable even in your harsh circumstances and wishes he was like that too.

Brings you out on adventures with him and killua! He wants to be with you as much as possible and show you the wonders of the world

He cares a lot about you especially knowing you dont have much time left to live.

Killua ☆

Was with gon in the labyrinth and thought if he was in another world.

Was lowkey against making friends with a random person fighting in a strange place but hes met worse somehow

Amazed at your strength without nen because he had yet to meet a magical girl and found them a little stupid but here we are...

He dislikes the fact that you're only strong because of a wish, but finds your transformation silly and strange.

Plays around with your bow a lot and whenever you have it, sometimes it will be snatched by him

When you tell him about your wish, he doesnt seem very pleased, however he wont pick at it too much since you're sacrificing your life for it

He finds impressive that you were just a normal person before this yet you tried to be brave and help others

Hes a little confused of your hospitality because you have a lot of stuff on your plate already

Not the best at showing his emotions especially knowing that you're not going to be around a lot, he tries to be a little reserved

Feels bad about your fate as a magical girl and will try to help and be a better friend

You change him a lot and hes definitely more grateful for you!!

Likes to tease you about your kindness and naivety...smh.

Honestly being with him is either fun or a little annoying but nonetheless, him and gon just really brighten up your life >v<

Kurapika ☆

Met you through gon and killua!

Hes a little bewildered that magical girls actually exist

When you overhear about his line of work and goals you have a great idea to help him!!

Immediately he rejects because he doesnt want to drag a child with him to hunt down for the eyes, plus it's a personal problem !!

However if he did accept help (somehow) hes a little skeptical since your so naive and doubts you're going to help

Fortunately he was proved wrong!! You helped him track down the target and slow them down by shooting them with your arrows

Works with you for a while and gains your trust so you decide to tell the truth

Any wish? Just to kill witches? There has to be a catch. He was a little disappointed you fell for it but nonetheless once you tell him, he helps you hunt down witches with his limited power

Has a pang of guilt and sadness everytime he remembers your contract, because one of these days hes going to be all alone again without you accompanying him with his missions

Appreciates you more and gives you little gifts since he cant offer you a lot of time due to his job

Even though it's looking grim, he does not lose all hope. He doesnt want to lose another loved one.

Leorio ☆

He cant believe it like for real??? You're a magical girl???

Met you through gon and killua too! You're a little suspicious of him considering the stories killua told you...

Although you two grow close due to his want to care for others and you relate cuz you protect basically the world and universe!!!

You two are an iconic duo tbh...

Not surprised if he becomes a magical dude because of you

When he first saw a witch, he was lowkey terrified like wtf is that hello??? You're a kid how are you fighting those crazy monsters???

Says he'll protect you cuz hes older and stronger!!! That is a lie, you end up protecting him instead 😭

Even though hes quite terrified he tries to help here and there!!

Definitely nurses you back to good health if you got damaged badly in a battle

Gets really emotional when he finds out your fate and tries so hard to find at least something to always purify your soul gem at all times without a grief seed

Misses you when he has to go back and focus on his studies and not go on crazy adventures to hunt down witches

Probably calls you daily just to know what you're doing and sends those like good morning stickers Facebook moms use

Congrats leorio is now your older brother!!!

- Serenity 💫

[animeshotsh]

Human | Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

Summary: Gojo finally finds someone who seems him for who he really is

Warnings: Off canon events - Adult!Gojo - Depress!Gojo - Suguru is mentioned - Kind of OP reader -

The first time Gojo hear of a new teacher joining the school he did not really give it much mind.

He was after all the strongest, no one could close to him in fight, not in this era at least.

"Hello, sorry to interrump but could you tell me where Principal's Yaga office is?"

The question itself was not what caught Gojo off guard, it was the fact that he did not sense you. He had to do a double check, no there was curse energy he could see it. It was being well controlled and (he dared to say) supressed. But no one (well someone but that was when he was younger and naive) had manage to get so close to him without him noticing.

"Ah sorry, im (Y/N) the new professor"

And like that you managed to catch his interest.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Gojo did follow you around like a puppy, at first it was his curiosity that got the best of him. He was trying to get a hand on you, who were you? You did not came from any clan. Non did your name ring any bells.

Also, what was going on with your technique?

You had explained to him (after a mission that were he decided to tag along) that you could just know and use others techniques. You needed to touch them at least once and that was it, not only did it work on other sorcerers or curses but on curse tools as well.

"As long as it has curse energy I can pretty much just know how to use it. I still get the side effects of them so it kind of sucks"

You were so humble. Gojo had tried there to make you touch him and see if you could use his technique but you had declined much to his confusion.

Why did you not want to use the strongest technique ? Why were you so...different ?

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Maybe he did read too much into it. But Gojo found your decline (and the rest that followed) charming. Somehow and for some reason you did not want to use him. Not that you went out there getting technique after technique, you had said how you felt bad because of it. Like it felt you were robbing others but also:

"Sorcerers are still peopel, even if I dont like all of them or how much of the society thinks...I cant just see them as weapons"

Then...

You did not see him as the strongest weapon of all time?

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

I took time for Gojo to even accept that he liked you as a friend and even longer to come down to terms that he liked you more than that.

He had closed himself a long time ago, convinced that his only friend was gone (killed by his own hand and later cremated) and that no one would ever see him again.

Not Gojo Satoru the strongest, but him. Gojo Satoru, with no important titles or anything.

But you did.

You remember his favorite sweets, you greeted him like any other collague, you would check on him and ask how he was doing. If missions were too much.

"Its not like I dont think you are not captable of taking them" You have said one afternoon as both of them took a walk around the city "But even you need to rest"

Gojo had tried to hide his fast heart beat and how happy that comment had made him by joking with you, only for you to stop dead in your walk and look at him. Gojo felt like your eyes were pircing his infinity.

"The head ups loves to pick someone strong and use that person like a tool till is rusty and useless. But it does not mean you have to take them, they know you could kill them all if you just wanted to"

It was true, but really Gojo did not know what to do if not take these missions. He knew they overworked him to no end. And did send him on missions a grade two could do. But what was he supposed to do ?

Gojo realized there, he did not know how to be human.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Gojo had to take weeks to think on what you had said to him. And what it did mean to him at the end.

He ended up doing something he thought he would never do.

He visisted Suguru's grave.

It was strange, Gojo never felt comfortable to come, non did he know what he was supposed to do. Did he just talk? He knew he would get not response so what was the point?

But was there not the same line of thoughts he already had ?

He would not Open to others because he knew the outcome.

He took missions because he knew he was a tool.

He kept a good facade because he could not be seen as nothing but the strongest even if he was dying inside.

But then you came. You who would treat him like a human, you who did got worried when he took too Long on missions. You who saw him as human.

Slowly Gojo had found himself letting you in. His infinity just being able to keep away your physical touch but not your mental one. Not the connection you seemed to craft not the love and care you gave him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Gojo does not cry. Never. But December its a hard month.

Its when missions are its lowest so he gets too much time to think.

And when he thinks he gets screwed.

He was not suprised on the outside when he felt your curse energy at his door, non did he left you see his tears when you offered him to pass the week together since missions were low and non did he let you see his heart shatter and be rebuild when you offered him to pass Christmas together.

No, he did not show it.

But he knew he did not need to do it.

He knew you just knew how he felt without the need of him to tell you anything. That was your greatest gift, the way you made a home for him with you. The comfort you gave him and support. Not caring if others saw it as pointless.

And with that smile of yours.

Gojo thinks he can be just a regular human when he is with you.

[angelicguy]

pakistan tekken is so crazy its taken me a really long time to even kind of realize how it works. because korean tekken its really defensive obviously- if i had to condense it its "play defense and use good movement, let your opponent show their habits, and make reads from their habits/step and whiff the moves they throw out" with the idea being that you take as little risk as possible while still taking the damage as it comes. thats a huge generalization, and obviously people play different, but its how they are known to play (aggressive players like ulsan notwithstanding)

but pakistani players absolutely blast their asses every time. because (and this is what i THINK but its also what ive seen) pakistani players have this insane calculated aggression that they apply that completely breaks thru that defensive playstyle- you can see it in their choices of nina, feng, drag, etc. they find these characters that have moves that have a safe answer for every defensive option that there is (quick tracking moves, unseeable lows, long range mids) and just fucking pitbull the hell out of you with very low passive risk to themselves (by passive risk i mean they dont use punishable moves or duckable strings that can be seen/punished on first or second use). like this weird blender of attacks that absolutely decimate the defensive playstyle, because DEFENSIVE READS are based off of thinking "oh he did this last time/ he only has a set of options here, i can answer that with a specific option" but since they rotate thru their options so well they just scissor them to death. they do not wait or back up for the first 2/3rds of the set. theres nothing to whiff punish cuz they dont whiff, and you cant play patient because if you stand still they just kill you!

but the most DEVILISH thing about them is that they still have incredible movement and defense. atif butt vs keisuke and book at CEO showed this really well- he would just mog them endlessly for the first match, and about halfway thru the second match once they start catching on to their baseline offensive pace and start hitting back with the requisite counter offensive, they go SUPER defensive and start making those korean style reads back at them. its crazy. its like they have that defensive style as a fallback when the aggression starts biting them- but then their OPPONENT becomes too secure in the idea that theyre fighting aggro, and once they pick up on that they use their opponents responses against them its fucking evil

[suzdin]

Two For One: Ch. 2

(Dave York x Max Phillips x f!reader)

Part One Here

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, small age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, some angst, mention of weapons, romance, some fluff, alcohol use, smut, graphic depictions of sex, rough sex, degradation, sadism, kinda dubcon, dom!Dave, spanking, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, anal

Notes: This is a Dave heavy chapter and Max is kind of an afterthought, sorry if you’re here because of him. He’ll make a larger appearance in the next chapter, I promise! 🤪

——

“Careful, it’s a bit heavy—“ you say as you pass your bag to Dave. “—there’s glass,” you add for good measure, Dave’s fingers brushing yours as he grabs at the straps to hoist it over his shoulder. You watch as your bottle of Smirnoff lists to one side, breath catching in your throat until it eventually tips back.

Ignoring the almost-fiasco of it crashing to the sidewalk, Dave eyes you up and down once he settles everything, which causes your cheeks to heat. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, his eyes large and brown, reminding you almost comically of a baby cow.

“Um,” you answer awkwardly, not sure what to say. You don’t want to pick something on the pricier side, your impoverished upbringing screaming at you in your head. “I don’t really have a lot of money, so…there’s a Burger King around the corner?” you suggest.

Dave shakes his head in disagreement, his lips tilting into a smirk, the skin around his eyes crinkling in a way that makes him look soft. Inviting. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m paying.”

And herein lies a new dilemma: you don’t want him to assume you’re gouging him for money. It isn’t like the restaurants in your neighborhood are high class, but they certainly aren’t cheap, either.

“Oh, um, well…” you begin. “What are you in the mood for?” you ask, deflecting the question back to him.

Dave knows what you’re doing; you don’t want to choose something that might leave a bad taste in his mouth, literally and figuratively. He can’t help to admit it strokes his ego a little that you want to make a good first impression; he thinks that bodes well for him. He tries not to let his gaze linger longer than necessary.

He cants his head forward, gesturing for you to follow him. Together, the two of you start down the street.

“Well,” he begins, raising his eyebrows in contemplation. “There’s Italian straight ahead. An Irish pub called Quinn’s that has decent enough food across from that. Greek and Indian on Broadway…” he trails off idly, hoping any of those sound appetizing.

“Greek is good. I like Greek. Hummus actually sounds killer right about now,” you admit, your stomach grumbling audibly at the mention of food. You clutch at yourself as if that will stop it. “Sorry.”

He re-adjusts the bag on his shoulder and smiles over at you, pointedly ignoring your wailing stomach. It isn’t heavy, not really. Not for a big guy like Dave. “Mythos it is.”

——

The restaurant isn’t far. You walk, shoulder to shoulder, mostly in silence. Dave can’t stop thinking about you or the sounds you’d made for Max; his dick fighting with his brain, trying to keep himself in check now that he’s this close to you.

He clocks right away how different you are from Carol, who would have vetoed every restaurant in the city and then complained about being hungry later. Carol, whom he’d met at his church—back when he gave a shit about such things—only a few months before being sent away to the Marine Corps, so that he hastily rushed into a marriage that neither of them ended up being happy in.

Carol liked to present herself as a godly, Christian woman, though from Dave’s experience, he knew that to be far from the truth.

You, on the other hand, did not give off such vibes, the way you often slept in until noon on Sundays (when you didn’t happen to be working, that was), the somewhat revealing cut of your clothes, or the fact that you didn’t care enough to keep your debauchery stowed away, if the constant slew of alcohol and cigarettes had anything to say about that.

Not to mention how you allowed yourself to be manhandled in a public space with little to no concern of being discovered.

Would you let him drink with you later? he wonders.

Would you let him touch you? Fuck you?

As if on cue, you pull a cigarette loose from your purse. “Is this okay?” you ask as you draw it up to your lips.

There’s something in his eyes you can’t quite read.

“By all means,” he responds, and you let go of a breath. His eyes track the way your lips curl around the filter as you bring the lighter up; the way you cup your other hand to block the wind as you walk. He’s never been more jealous of a cigarette in his entire life.

“Want one?” you offer, assuming that’s why he’s staring.

“No, thanks,” he replies with a small laugh. “Gave them up years ago when I left the Marines.”

Marines? This guy couldn’t possibly be anymore different from Jonathan, you think.

Jonathan, the tortured artist. Jonathan, who once tried to make his own beer and failed horribly, which landed you in the ER several months ago. Jonathan, who dragged you from your home state all the way to Massachusetts, depleting your life savings, and now you don’t have enough money to get home.

He was your type, once. Maybe Dave is what you need.

Maybe Max is what you need, you ponder, a particularly brisk step reminding you of the soreness blooming between your legs.

You don’t need a relationship, you think. What you need right now is no-strings-attached sex, which is exactly what Max seems to be able to offer you.

Dave is cute, though. And seems nice. You can’t deny there’s something reticent about him, however. Something tucked away.

It fascinates you.

You’re about half done with the cigarette by the time you reach the restaurant. You snuff it out on the ground and cram the remainder back into your purse.

It’s a small, hole in the wall sort of place with outdoor seating off to one side, somewhat hidden from view of the street. The inside is intimately lit, and seems a touch cramped for your taste.

“Inside or outside?” Dave asks.

“Out, if that’s okay,” you reply. It’s a cool September evening, which means it will be pleasant enough to sit outdoors, unlike back home this time of year. It’s a nice night and you’d like to enjoy it a bit longer.

“Yeah. Of course.” He tries to quell his nerves when he notices how empty the patio is; were you trying to hint at something? he wonders.

You realize at the same time Dave does that the patio is devoid of other patrons, and you hope you didn’t give off the wrong impression, but it’s too late to say anything by the time he tells the host to seat you there.

The patio is situated between two buildings, adorned with standard metal grid outdoor tables and chairs, a few planter boxes flanking the walls, and string lights strewn above your heads. The host seats you by one of the tables nearest a wall and tells you someone will be by to take your order shortly.

“This is nice,” Dave says, taking time to pull out your chair for you before you sit. It stokes something in you; none of the men you’ve dated ever took such a simple gesture into consideration.

It probably shouldn’t, though. You barely know him.

You shuffle uncomfortably under the table. It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a date, if that was in fact what this was, and you aren’t really sure how to feel about it; how to act and what to say.

“So, where are you from?” he asks, breaking the ice for you.

He is, of course, only making small talk out of formality; he already knows where you’re from. All the places you’ve lived, the jobs you’ve had, your relatives, your financial situation. Social media links. By simply finding out your name and knowing where you work, he was able to obtain more information about you in hours than he had in months of watching you.

It wasn’t enough. He needed to know more.

“Texas,” you answer. The waitress is here now, and she takes your drink orders. Dave orders a Diet Coke and you start to order a water—your go to because it’s free—but change your mind at the last second and order the same thing.

“Be right back with your drinks,” she speaks in what you assume is a Greek accent. You mumble a polite thank you out of habit.

“How about you?” Your turn to ask now.

“Baltimore. Parents were in the FBI, so we stayed close to D.C. for a reason,” he replies with a smile. You make a face of admiration because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

“Wow,” you say as a placeholder. “The FBI? Impressive.”

He preens and shakes his head with a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

And then you settle into another drawn out silence. It should feel jarring, but to you, it’s a reprieve. You were never good at carrying a conversation. You start looking over the menu to fill the time, even though you already know what you’re getting.

“So. You want hummus, right? I’ll order some when she comes back,” Dave says.

“I’m getting that as my meal,” you state and it’s true. You would normally get an entree if you were just eating alone and save it for later, but you’re being polite. Besides, you’re really jonesing for some hummus right now.

“You sure?” he asks. “You can get anything you want.”

“I know. Thank you. But I— the hummus sounds good,” you reiterate. He concedes, brushing a hand through his sweat damp hair.

“Dolmas, then,” he suggests, pointing it out on the menu. Your menu, in fact, so that his arm briefly comes into contact with yours.

“Yeah. That sounds nice,” you agree quietly.

He can’t stop himself from smiling at you. You’re so kind. So polite. So shy. Everything that Carol isn’t.

He almost couldn’t believe what you’d let Max do to you. The sinful noises you’d made as a result.

Your duality captivates him. Not unlike yourself, he has his own duality.

He’s already growing stiff under the table. He can’t help it. He wishes you would make the same noises for him.

The waitress comes back a few minutes later with the drinks and takes your orders. “It will be out shortly,” she says when she’s done, tapping her pen against the ticket book as she strides away.

Dave starts asking you about your family. He already knows, of course. But he wants to hear you say it, perhaps to elaborate the details, see how much you’re willing to open up. He nods along patiently as you talk about your sick grandmother and how your mom takes care of her full-time. That you send money to them every once in a while, which is just one other thing that keeps you from saving, although you omit that last part.

You briefly touch on the subject of your brother—your only sibling—and how he’s been in and out of jail and rehab for years, but you don’t expound on that more than necessary.

Dave knows everything so he only lets you tell him what you’re comfortable sharing. He knows about the armed robberies, and that when you say jail, what you really mean is prison.

He notices how disquieted talking about your brother makes you. He’s overcome with the urge to kiss you, again. Take away the hurt. He settles on gently squeezing your shoulder instead. You don’t cringe away this time. He lets his hand dally a touch too long, perhaps, but you don’t say anything.

The dolmas come out a few minutes later. You admit to Dave you’ve never had them before, but after trying the first one, you’re hooked. They’re earthy, lemony and savory; everything you would expect and more.

“Glad you’re enjoying them,” Dave says affectionately. “They’re my favorite.”

You start to relax, a little. But you’re still mostly a bundle of raw nerves and when staff is out of view, you bend over to dig in your grocery bag to retrieve the vodka. It’s been such a long—and bizarre—day. It cannot be helped how you’re feeling or that you need relief.

You don’t catch Dave’s eyes on the droop of your chest as you bend…or the way he licks his lips salaciously, imagining how your nipples would taste against his tongue.

“Would you like any?” you query as you unscrew the top and dump what looks about a shot’s worth into your soda, swirling it with your straw.

Dave should say no. Lord knows he can barely contain himself as it is, stone cold sober.

But like most things having to do with you, he can’t resist, so he doesn’t. You pour some of the clear liquid into his cup.

And it continues like that for a while; adding another shot after every refill, halfway to being drunk by the time your food arrives, your anxiety dissipating with every drop of alcohol in your bloodstream.

Dave’s little touches grow more frequent, as well. Your hands and arms, your nearest shoulder, your knees. A few times, he has to stop himself from gripping your knees to spread them apart for him. It’s been a while since he’s been drunk; you’re probably handling it better than he is.

“What about you, then? Tell me about your family,” you pry, adding another shot to each of your cups.

Dave tells you about his parents, his siblings—one brother and one sister, both older. One lives in Rhode Island and the other in Florida. He says he doesn’t see them as often as he’d like.

“What do you do for work?” you question.

“I’m retired from the CIA,” he answers honestly, pointedly leaving out the part where he still acts as a consultant from time to time. He does not elaborate more than that.

Your eyes go wide, your brows shooting up your forehead. Dave must be the most decorated person you know. “CIA? This isn’t a situation where you have to kill me now that you’ve told me, right?” you ask playfully, and Dave laughs, his fingers grazing your hand.

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t,” he says around a laugh. You melt into a soft smile and he almost grabs you. Almost drags your mouth to his.

His control is waning by the minute.

“What brought you to Boston, anyway?” he finally asks. He knows already, of course, but he wants your side of it.

You’d been avoiding the subject, but the words flow easier now that you’re inebriated. You tell him about Jonathan; how you’d met online, fell in love—or so you thought—moved halfway across the country for him, only for him to leave you for another woman. Your cheeks shade red with anger.

You clock how hard Dave’s face gets while you’re recounting everything. It’s sort of amazing how swiftly his visage shifts from light to dark in the span of mere seconds. It’s unsettling in its own right, really, so you wave your hand dismissively, in order to change the subject.

“What about you? What brought you to Boston?”

He shifts back in his chair, knee brushing yours and bumping it aside ever so slightly. But he isn’t listening, his bubbling thoughts like a dull roar between his ears; he’s thinking of all the ways he would torture Jonathan before killing him. He’d killed many men, both for the Marines and the CIA. He enjoyed it. Got off on it. So what’s a little more blood in his ledger, in the shape of two men named Max and Jonathan?

He would kill them both as soon as he got the chance. The first in years.

“Dave? You okay?” you ask, placing a tentative hand on top of his where it grips the edge of the table, your thumb skimming the hills and valleys of his knuckles. His gaze snaps to yours, and he recognizes the worry in your eyes. You’re worried about him. It’s been a long time since anyone has worried about him.

That small reciprocative touch from you is all it takes to provoke him, drunk as he is. His opposite hand moves suddenly to your throat, then to the nape of your neck, and he pulls you into him, mouth crashing against yours, needy and messy, all teeth and lips until you open your mouth to him and he’s laving at you with broad strokes of his tongue.

You taste like vodka and heaven.

He swallows your whimper as it works its way up from the depths of your throat; as much as you can’t believe you’re kissing a man you’ve only just officially met, you’re impervious to stop him. This is exactly what you were wanting, what you were needing earlier, with Max. That intimacy, that connection, that Max had denied you. That Dave is offering freely. It’s what you wanted so badly and you only stop when Dave does, pulling apart from you to catch his breath, panting against each other’s lips.

You swipe your tongue against his bottom lip after a few moments, enticing him to return, and he takes advantage of the invitation with a deep groan, prodding his tongue hungrily into your mouth. He palms himself over his shorts as he does so—he can’t help it. You drive him fucking crazy.

You’re letting him touch you. He cannot believe you’re letting him. He wonders how much farther he could go.

His hand moves to your chest, curling lightly against the rise of your upper breast, skirting, testing. When you don’t object, he moves lower, gently cupping you from underneath, cradling the weight in his hand. He grunts into your mouth, dragging his thumb up to circle the stem of your nipple. Might as well go for it as long as you seem receptive.

You pull apart, panting hard, lust-drunk and intoxicated. His hand doesn’t move from your breast, his thumb deftly doing laps around the circumference of your stiffened peak, and it feels better than you could have ever imagined, your head draping over the back of the chair.

You need to know how his thumb would feel circling the bundle of nerves between your legs. You know how fucked it is, how fast everything is moving between the two of you, but you find yourself unable to give a shit after the year you’ve had.

You take his hand and move it down to the cradle of your lap as your legs splay wide for him. He cups your heat with his hand, wrist cocked, completely swallowing you in its mass.

His eyes go impossibly dark. Almost unreadable. His lips pull tight, and you think you see the promise of a smirk there, but you can’t be too sure. His brow is furrowed into a heavy line, lending him a feral—almost dangerous—appearance. And he absolutely is, right now—he’d wanted you for so long and he finally has you. Target acquired. God help anyone who might try to take you from him.

His hand doesn’t move right away and you almost think you’ve offended him. You start to cant your hips, seeking friction, and he stills you with the other hand, wide palm holding you in place against the chair.

The thin bike shorts don’t leave much to the imagination; he can feel your soft folds against his fingers and the dampness that is already creeping through. He starts to stroke with his fore and middle fingers along your seam, his thumb firmly pressed to your clothed clit, rolling tight circles.

It’s all so much that you would buck into his hand if he wasn’t holding you down. You mewl pathetically in his wake, and you’re certain you do see his lips curving into a grin now.

You feel like a rabbit locked in the jaws of a wolf.

“Feels so pretty for me,” Dave murmurs against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours as he holds your gaze in his. “What else would you let me do to you, huh?”

You swallow. Your heart is slamming in your chest. The hero facade from earlier is gone and the real Dave is now bared right in front of you.

“Whatever you want,” you respond in a shaky breath. You’re scared of him, but you kind of like it. The fear consuming you is enrapturing.

“That’s a dangerous proposition,” Dave tuts, tongue clicking between his teeth. Thumb continuously circling your sensitive nub.

A moan slips free and you find it nearly impossible to stay in one spot, even in his clutches. He eventually resigns himself and lets go, hand coming up to squeeze just under your jaw.

“Would you let me put a finger in you? Right here?” he rumbles lowly, his voice deep, dark. It almost doesn’t sound like a question, coming from him.

You already know the answer to such a devious question. You’d let Max almost do the same, after all, and you don’t even like Max.

“Yes,” you admit. “Yes…please.”

“Fucking filthy.” His eyes shine and his lips curl into a wicked smile. Carol would have never agreed to something like that; as if he hadn’t asked on multiple occasions. But that never stopped her from fucking a neighbor at a Christmas party several years ago.

The ache in his cock is burgeoning on painful. His grip under your chin tightens; still very much controlled, but enough to get his point across. “Grab my cock.”

Your breath catches. He leans in to kiss you again, your fingers skating along the inner plane of his thigh, snaking into the opening of his shorts. You find his stiffened member readily, lacing your fingers around the ample girth and stroking it along the ridges of your palm, slowing down when you reach the head. Precum leaks down your wrist. He’s warm and hard as steel and feels amazing. He grunts into your mouth, hips rolling forward, chasing your touch.

“Fuck,” he whispers. He’s spent so long dreaming of this exact scenario that now that it’s happening, it’s too much. Too much and not enough all at once. He breathes headily into your mouth, sucking and biting at your lips. He wonders if you’d suck him off under the table; he knows from listening to you earlier that Max hadn’t claimed your mouth. He wanted to be the one to claim that before Max, spill himself down your throat and mark you from the inside out.

It’s so much that he won’t last long if you keep touching him like that, your soft warm hand doing slow, rounded strokes on his cock. He stills your hand and you exchange a glance.

“Lean back, sweetheart.” His words go straight to your core. Max had also called you that, but the cadence was different, more derivative. Dave’s movements are deliberate and controlled, unlike Max’s more chaotic approach. Cold and calculating; yet something in the low pitch of his voice makes you want to trust him.

You lean against the chair, hips sliding forward. Dave wets two fingers against his tongue and, resuming the onslaught of his mouth on yours, pulls back the band of your skin tight shorts to slip the other hand inside.

Your head lolls back against the chair and your eyes flutter shut. Your head swims; what is wrong with you? The waitress could come back to find Dave knuckles deep inside of you at any second.

But that’s part of the allure.

His hand dips lower, skimming the soft curls of your mound, tracing your shape. He’s only inches away from discovering your drenched and waiting hole when a new sound penetrates the fog of your mind. It takes a moment for understanding to settle over you, and then hits you abruptly: someone is clearing their throat.

Your eyes snap open and Dave yanks his hand back so hard he elbows the arm of the chair, a quiet hiss escaping from his lips as he tries to downplay the hurt. You look up to see the waitress peering down at you.

“I was going to ask if you wanted dessert, but seems you’ve already started,” she points out. She looks more amused than angry, but it doesn’t stop the shame that blooms hot in your cheeks at being so careless.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her softly.

“Just the check,” Dave says, doing his best to feign innocence. He bites the inside of his cheek. “Thanks.”

You both burst into laughter like a pair of teenagers as soon as she’s out of earshot. You look down at your half eaten plate of hummus and pitas. “Shit, I should have asked for a box too,” you say, acting as though you didn’t just have hands down the other’s pants. He chuckles, brushing a hand through short, dark hair.

“Yeah, guess so.” His mouth hooks into a crooked smirk.

The air of the moment is gone as you fall into a silence that is more comfortable than the one before, his hand lingering on your knee, thumb circling your kneecap as a gentle reminder.

The waitress returns and she is a saint. Not only has she brought the check, she’s also brought boxes for your leftovers and something in a smaller to-go box. “Baklava, for after,” she says, giving you a knowing wink. You blush. “On the house.”

Dave pays the check and leaves a generous tip as quickly as he is able to do so.

——

Dave’s hands are all over you the entire way home.

Not in a gratuitous way; he’s learned his lesson there. But that doesn’t stop him from sliding his fingers up and down your back as you walk together, or the way his hand curls taut around your hip and ass to pull you in close to nip at your neck. You giggle and playfully try to fend him off, but it does very little to dissuade him, of which you don’t mind.

He’s grateful he chose to wear loose fitting shorts to jog in today. Anything tighter and it would leave very little to the imagination. He’s sure he’s showing enough already, but he can’t be arsed enough to care, or help how deranged you make him feel. He would have taken you at the restaurant, if you had let him. If the two of you could have gotten away with it.

You arrive at the passage between your buildings after what seems like an eternity of walking. You feel his fingers dig a little harder into your backside as soon as you round the corner, and then he’s turning you, pressing your back flush against his building the same way Max had done to you earlier against yours. The similarities between both men is eerie.

His mouth finds your neck and he sucks a line of red marks down to your shoulder, leaving behind a trail of hickies that won’t be going anyway anytime soon, but you’re too fucked out already to mind.

“My place or yours?” Dave asks. His pelvis crowds into you, erection grinding at your center, the thin fabrics of your outfits a blessing as you feel every hard press of him into you.

“Yours,” you mutter without a second thought. You don’t know if you could handle two men in your space in a single day. You’d barely had time to gather your thoughts from earlier, much less clean up after yourself.

If only you knew what Dave knows. What he did.

Dave pulls away from you, one hand circling your wrist as he drags you with him, the other digging into his pocket to retrieve the keycard from his wallet. You need the same for your building, he thinks. Safer that way, less chance of being tampered with, and he would be able to rest easier.

He readjusts the grocery bag on his shoulder as he slides the keycard into the lock and pushes the door open. “After you,” he says, motioning ahead. You do as he asks, stepping over the threshold and into the building, Dave following at your heels.

His building is nicer than yours, a little more modern and kept up. A bank of mail boxes sits off to your right, a seating area to the left. There’s a staircase directly in front of you and an elevator beyond that. He gestures you up the stairs.

“I’m just on the second floor, last door on the left,” he instructs, and you dutifully begin your ascent, slowly, as you’re still more than just slightly tipsy.

Dave falls in line behind you. A moment later, you feel his hands spanning the width of your ass, kneading your flesh against his palms, landing a soft smack to your right cheek; just hard enough to let you know that he’s there and what he’s about to do to you.

“I’ve thought about this ass a lot,” Dave says in a low pitch, “Feels just as nice as I imagined it would.”

You reach the landing and make your way down the narrow corridor until you reach a door with 2A emblazoned on it, canting your eyes towards Dave for conformation. He nods and you step aside as he moves to unlock the door.

The interior of Dave’s apartment is larger than your own. It has an actual bedroom, for one. It’s also more tidy—there isn’t a lot of furniture, very few personal items, which means less clutter. No pictures hung on the walls. Just the bare necessities. A man’s apartment.

Dave puts your bag on the kitchen counter and he’s on you before you can even slide your purse off, removing the burdensome item for you, tossing it thoughtlessly behind him to join the other. His lips crash into yours, needy and desperate, tongue licking into your mouth as his hands roam over your chest to cup both breasts.

You feel better than he could have ever imagined. Like your body was made just for him, the way it slots perfectly against his own.

You make a chirp of surprise as he scoops you up with a low growl, one arm across your back and the other in the bend of your knees as he carries you to the bedroom down the hall. His mouth doesn’t relent, sucking and biting at your lips, your jaw.

“Going to ruin you tonight,” he moans against your mouth.

He puts you down on the edge of the bed when you make it to the bedroom. It’s just as sparse of the rest of the apartment, with plain black sheets and a plain black comforter. At least the bed isn’t made up; that makes you feel a little better about how you live.

He crouches in front of you, large brown eyes darkening a shade as he studies your face. Hands gripping your thighs.

“Just so you know, darling, I don’t play nice,” he forewarns, hands sliding down your legs to stroke your bare calves. Going off of what he heard earlier, he’s sure that won’t be a problem. “Before we start, is there anything off the table?”

You consider his question for a moment, thoughtfully biting your lip. “Yes. I’m not on birth control, so…” you trail off with a nervous giggle. Your condoms are of no use back at your apartment.

His jaw clenches. Of course he doesn’t have any condoms either, as he hasn’t had a need for them in quite some time. He supposes he understands. It isn’t like he needs more kids, anyway.

“Guess I have to cum in one of your other holes, then,” he muses, squeezing and kneading your calves. His hands are large and warm and they feel fucking amazing. “If at any point you want me to stop, you say ‘foxglove’. Otherwise, I assume anything goes. Clear?”

“Clear,” you confirm, inclining your head in a small nod, a tremor slithering its way through you as you consider the possibilities.

Dave’s expression hardens as a hand lifts to your face, landing a smack across your cheek just hard enough to sting but not hurt. Not yet.

“Tell me what you say if it’s too much. I need to hear you say it,” his voice dark and heavy.

“Foxglove. The safe word…is foxglove.”

One corner of his mouth slants upwards into a smirk, his eyes remaining dark. Glassy. “Atta girl,” he says with a wink.

He begins removing your clothing, yanking and manipulating the fabric free from your form until you’re completely nude, your skin pebbling as cool air rushes over you. His gaze traverses your curves, drinking you in with his eyes as he licks his lips hungrily. He can see bruises forming where Max’s fingers gripped you, where they dug in. He surprises himself when it only serves to further turn him on, the head of his dick beading with precum as he pictures how Max must have fucked you. Part of him wishes he had been able to see it for himself.

He slaps you again, harder this time, hand moving to your throat to shove you down until your back makes contact with the mattress, a small gasp rushing out of you. Moving from the floor to the bed, he seats himself at your side, grabbing one of your knees to spread you open.

He drags a finger along your soaked seam, revering how wet you already are for him, how easily the tip of his finger slips inside. “Fuck, is this just for me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You nod in response. “Fuckin’ slut.”

He sinks his finger to the last knuckle, pumping a few times, adding a second a moment later. You mewl and writhe underneath him, craving more friction between your legs.

“Just fuck me, Dave, please. Want your cock in me.”

He chuckles, balls pulsing in response to your words as he removes his fingers from your dripping heat. “My cock, pretty girl?” he purrs. “Who’s calling the shots here?” he asks you, pinching and twisting one of your nipples as retribution. The pain makes you cry out, tears stinging your eyes, your back arching.

When you don’t answer, he repeats himself, tugging harder this time. “Who?” he snarls.

“Y-you! You!” you whine, moving your hand over your breast to soothe the hurt, but Dave knocks it back, pinning it to the bed.

“Don’t move your hands. I mean it.”

Your body trembles. This isn’t the mild mannered Dave from earlier; the juxtaposition absolutely terrifies you and it’s fucked how much you like it.

“You,” you repeat for good measure. “You do.”

Dave beams down at you, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.”

His fingers move to curve inside of you, adding a third this time, splitting you open for him. You keen at the sting of being stretched around his knuckles, hips instinctively bucking against him. You whimper when his palm bumps your clit.

He stills you with his opposite hand and you flinch, anticipating more retaliation.

“Easy,” he soothes, flattening his palm against your hip as he strokes. “I got you.”

His fingers pump lazily through your slick, sinking to the hilt, allowing himself to feel every ridge and ripple of your tunnel. Memorizing it. You’re so wet for him; he still can’t believe that you’re letting him do this. How did he get so lucky?

He fishes his phone from his pocket in a moment of insight; he doesn’t want to take any chances in case you never let him do this again. His eyes move to your face as he does so, awaiting any kind of objection, only to continue when he finds there is none. You watch with curiosity from your perspective as he flicks open the camera app and begins to film, training the lens where his fingers are currently disappearing inside of you.

It goes on for several minutes like that, Dave filming as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet squelch of his digits driving into you paired with the accompanying sounds of your gradually building pleasure more than a little gratuitous, as if it was straight from a porno.

He can tell by the way your inner walls are tightening that you’re getting close. He wants to get you off before he does, prepare you for the inevitable stretch of him so he can properly ruin you on his cock.

He passes the phone to you now, scooting higher up on the bed. You watch him through the phone screen and realize he’s still completely clothed, the lewd bulge of his erection more than obvious even through the phone. As if on cue, he palms himself before settling in next to you.

He nibbles down the rise of your shoulder, trailing to your breast, leaving small suckling bites until his mouth reaches the hard peak of your nipple. His tongue laves over it, circling it, sucking it into his mouth and taking it between his teeth. It sends a shockwave of pain through you, your cunt clenching down on Dave’s fingers, momentarily blinded by your pleasure.

You do as best you can to capture everything on camera, but there’s so much going on, your brain so swimmy you can barely see straight.

“Mmf,” he groans against the stiffened bud. “Doing so well already,” he praises.

His teeth move to the pillowy flesh of your outer breast, biting down harder than you would have imagined he would—to the point of nearly drawing blood—another lance of pain shooting through you with a strangled cry. It’s at that moment an orgasm unexpectedly washes over you, taking you by complete surprise as you scream Dave’s name loud enough for the entire building to hear.

His cock pulses with the need to be buried in your dark, wet heat as he rides out the ebbs and flows of your ecstasy, hand still fucking into you, harder and faster than before, and before you even realize what’s happening, a second orgasm surges through you like an arc of lightning on the tail end of the first, your vision pulling white for what seems like a lifetime.

“Fuck,” you mewl, your voice almost a sob. “Fuck, Dave.”

He keeps pumping until the aftershocks of your back to back orgasms starts to be too much, burgeoning on painful, and you plead for him to stop, grabbing at his wrist without giving it much thought.

“You know what to say if you want me to stop.” His face contorts into a wicked sneer. “I like when you tell me no.”

You let out a sigh of relief when you get a brief reprieve from the overstimulation as he pulls his fingers out of you, leaning forward to force your mouth open with his fingers. “Clean them off. Taste yourself. Taste what I did to you.”

You do your best to turn the camera to your face as you suck obediently, tasting a mixture of yourself and the salt of his skin, murmuring low in your throat as your eyes move to examine his face. He’s drunk on lust and on you, slack-jawed, dark eyes shimmering with dubiousness. Somehow, if it’s possible, it makes you even wetter than before.

When he removes his hand, a string of saliva connects your mouth to the tip of his middle finger, which you most definitely capture on the camera.

“My turn,” he says, sliding into a stand, removing his shirt and letting it join yours on the floor. The first thing you notice are his shoulders, endlessly broad and well defined, flexing with every movement. You’re unable to pull your attention away from the vastness of them until he’s kneeling again, grabbing you by the hips and pulling your ass to hang over the edge of the bed.

His face is buried between the juncture of your thighs a moment later, arched Roman nose nudging your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue dips to penetrate you, lips forming a tight seal around your entrance as his tongue scrubs at your inner walls, groaning deep in his throat as he tastes you for the first time.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he moans against your folds. “Best I’ve ever tasted.”

“No, Dave, stop,” you beg, weakly pushing at one of his shoulders with your free hand, so overstimulated it hurts. Between him and Max, they’ve already done a number on you today, and Dave hasn’t even properly fucked you yet. Your words don’t make Dave stall, however; if anything, he speeds up.

You know what to say if you want me to stop. His words echo in your mind as a single teardrop clings to your waterline. You could just say it, foxglove—a type of poisonous flower, aptly fitting—and you’re certain he would stop. But you’re willing to see how far you’re able to go, how much you can take, the word fading away behind your lips along with your considerations.

“Stop,” you whimper to spur him on, intentionally antagonizing him now, and he growls, animalistic, heady, unrelenting as he grazes his teeth over your sensitive nub, making you cry out before returning to his previous task of eating you out like a man starved.

It isn’t long before he drags a third orgasm out of you, your hips bucking completely off the bed to chase the fleeting stimulation, his name a chant on your tongue. Your fingers curl into the sheets to anchor yourself.

Dave falls back on his calves, chest heaving as he takes a moment to collect his breath, likewise allowing you to catch yours.

He runs a hand over his face, wiping away the sweat that wants to fall. He often stopped using his air conditioning after summer, and he’s feeling the effects now as perspiration beads up and rolls down his back.

“Are you ready for my cock?” he asks, his face cast in shadow, lending him an insidious appearance. It makes you shiver.

“Yes. Need your cock in me,” you whine, knowing how sore you’ll be after this, how sore you are now. You can’t find yourself able to care.

Dave rises, one hand on his hip, cock pulsing and leaking with arousal at the chance to fully bury himself in you. He goes over to the side of the bed, hauling you up the rest of the way by your arm, which makes you yelp.

He takes the phone from you and places it on the nightstand, angling it so that it faces the bed. You aren’t sure how much you were able to capture with his head between your legs, so you’re happy to be relieved of film maker duty.

He’s on top of you an instant later, shorts somehow shed in a frenzy of movement, lining himself up at your entrance and then pushing inside in one smooth, devastating go. His head rocking back to slump against his shoulders at how amazing you feel, how tight you are for him despite being with Max, how subservient you’ve been and how well you’re taking him. It takes every fiber of his being not to offload into you on the first thrust.

His hands lace around your throat as he begins to pump, squeezing into the meat of your neck. “Look at me,” he snarls.

You look up at him, brown eyes shifted to black, a dark band of shadow covering his visage, making him seem that much more sinister. He isn’t fully railing into you yet, but he isn’t exactly going easy on you, either, every thrust into you more tender than the previous.

“Open your mouth for me like the whore you are,” Dave commands, tightening his grip until the edges of the room start to blot away. “And stick out your tongue.”

Your lips part and you curl your tongue outward, thinking you know what’s coming, but still being taken aback when you feel a thick glob of saliva land directly onto your waiting tongue. You don’t give him a chance to tell you to swallow; you do it on your own, opening wider for more.

“Does my little slut want seconds?” Dave asks, and you nod. He smirks, spitting directly into your mouth again, watching intently as you swallow. “Filthy. Should make you eat my cum, too.”

You nod in wanton agreement, but you’re unable to speak with his massive hands digging into your windpipe as they are. The flash in his gaze tells you his understanding, though, and he starts fucking you harder, instructing you to lift your legs so he can slam into you as deep as he possibly can, the head of his dick knocking at the delicate spongy area at the back of your tunnel.

And then a fourth orgasm rolls over you, vision fading away momentarily as your head rocks back against the pillow, choked cry clawing its way out of your throat.

You aren’t sure how much more you can take, which Dave must admit is more than he expected you to. Your body is numb and your head is pounding; you hope for your sake he cums soon.

He loosens his hold on your neck, and you’re able to breathe again, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him as you catch up. He taps the side of your face, softly, almost affectionate in comparison to how hard he slapped you before. Then he pulls out of you, wrapping his hand around his thick cock, slowly pumping himself with your slick and cum.

“Maybe I won’t spill into that pretty little whore mouth of yours,” he muses. “Maybe I should take your tight little asshole instead.”

Your heart palpitates faster, eyes going wide. You’ve never done anal more than just a finger or two and Dave is so girthy—the idea gives you pause, admittedly.

Dave expects you to say no. Like, actually say no, this time. The veins running the length of his shaft pulsing as he imagines how your ass would feel sheathed on his cock, but he isn’t pressing the issue, so he’s more than pleasantly shocked when you don’t abstain.

“Okay,” you mumble, hardly above a whisper. “Need you to fuck my ass, Dave.” You look up at him through your lashes and it stirs something primal in him, hearing those words come from your sweet mouth.

He wastes no time in flipping you over, pulling you up to your knees as he notches himself at your star of muscle.

“Have you ever done it before?”

“N-never, no. Just fingers,” you admit, biting back your trepidation.

“I’ll start off slow, then. Get you nice and stretched out. But I won’t be able to control myself for long, knowing I’m the first one who gets to claim your ass. I won’t go easy on you after that point.”

You swallow and nod. The alcohol will definitely help to loosen things up, but you aren’t sure how much.

Dave tilts your hips up, spreading your cheeks to spit directly onto the ring of muscle. He slips a thumb inside, pumping it easily a few times, groaning at how you squeeze him.

“So tight,” he growls. “Going to feel so fucking good.”

He slides his thumb out and spits again, first at your entrance and then into his palm, smearing the cocktail of saliva, slick and precum over himself. He grips your cheeks and spreads you open as wide as possible, positioning his head between them.

He starts to push slowly inward, the initial stretch painful, your vision temporarily reduced to nothing, tears stinging your eyes. It’s so much. He’s so much.

In spite of yourself, you do your best to relax, regulating your breathing and slackening your muscles. It seems to help as he claims another inch of you with a throaty reverberation. “Doing great, baby.”

You moan, an amalgamation of pleasure and pain when he pushes in about halfway, filling you in ways you never could have imagined. He pumps his hips languidly as he continues to gain ground, parting you slowly around his length, molding you into a desired shape for him, until he eventually bottoms out with a visceral groan.

“Fuck,” he pants. “So fucking perfect.”

He holds there a moment, relishing how fucking amazing you feel strangling his cock, knowing it won’t take much from this point to send him hurtling over the edge; he’ll have to make sure it counts.

He ruts into you a few times, gingerly, opening you further to ensure you have ample time to mentally prepare for the impending onslaught.

“How does it feel?” he asks, kneading your hips under his hands.

“G-good, so f-far,” you reply. “Okay.”

“That’s too bad,” Dave tuts. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we, darling?”

He plants a hard smack to your ass, causing you to arch involuntarily with a high keening yelp, rocking you back into him as a dagger of pain courses through you. Dave grunts, snapping his hips into you, and you yelp again.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”

He flattens his palm over where he made contact to soothe the hurt, but before you can settle he strikes you again, harder than before, gripping your hips with enough force to bruise as he begins riding you rough and frenzied, bucking his hips against yours.

His hand snakes around to your front and finds your swollen and overworked clit, administering quick tight circles to the delicate bud. Your initial instinct is to push him away, tell him to stop, and you do. You cry out for him to stop, because it’s so much, he’s so much, forgetting in your haste that it only spurs him on, makes him want you more. And it’s so much that he’s literally fucking you senseless, unable to breathe or even think.

Despite everything, that familiar tickle begins to build low in your abdomen again, the noises you make with every thrust inhuman and supplicant. You want him to stop but you don’t. You don’t know how much more you can withstand but at the same time want him to use you all night.

Dave rumbles from the depths of his chest, completely feral as he ruts into your ass, the noises you’re making driving him to the brink of insanity, the same ones you’d made earlier for Max. And he can feel his climax building, listening to your salacious inhuman noises, envisioning Max fucking you in your apartment and how much you’d fallen apart for him. And subsequently four times so far with himself.

“Whose ass is this?” Dave snarls, spanking you again, leaving an imprint of his hand behind.

“Yours, Dave, yours!” you cry.

“That’s right. No one else’s. Just mine. All mine,” he grunts. “Cum for me, baby. Need you to cum as I rail your ass.”

“I can’t, Dave, it’s so much…” you whine. Everything is disorientating. You’re glad you have tomorrow off because you aren’t certain you’ll be able to walk after this.

“Yes you can. Cum for me. Last one.”

He flicks the pads of his middle and index fingers over your clit, and when you think it isn’t going to be possible, another orgasm burns through you like a powder keg, your walls clamping down around nothing as Dave spears himself repeatedly into you. You see stars, crying out his name as your arms give out beneath you, the upper half of your body slumping into the bed.

Dave snaps his hips once, twice, three times more and then he’s cumming hard with a deep, animalistic snarl, pumping himself deep as he uses you to milk every last drop of himself.

He eventually slows to a halt, both of you panting hard, covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, your bodies like jello as you sink in tandem to the mattress below. Dave pulls out of you, rolling onto his back as he pants up at the ceiling.

He takes a moment to catch his breath and bearings before he scoots off the bed, checking to make sure you’re okay as he turns off the camera on his phone and then heads to the small en suite bathroom, the only one in the apartment. He starts the warm tap and retrieves a wash rag from the basket he keeps by the sink, running it under the water until it’s pleasantly warm.

He returns to you a moment later to find you already halfway to dozing, looking at him through sleepy, half-lidded eyes. It stokes something in the cold cockles of his heart seeing you like this, running an affectionate hand up the back of your thigh as he approaches you. “Here, open up.”

You hardly have any cognition left, yet you somehow manage to comprehend, spreading to allow him to clean you. The warmth of the rag is relieving against your sore and tender parts, and when he feels you’ve been sufficiently looked over, he seats himself next to you, brushing your hair from your eyes.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Mmhm,” you manage weakly, unable to keep your eyes open now. “Jus’ tired.”

“Rest,” Dave says, stroking along the edge of your jaw with his thumb. “You’ve earned it.”

He watches you a moment longer as you drift off, leaving your side only when he’s sufficiently sated on the image of you in his bed to go clean himself up in the bathroom. While he’s in there, he can’t help but think that being able to fuck you should have scratched that itch, scratched it enough that he could move past you, but now that he’s had you—he feels it growing even more restless than before, contorting into some kind of twisted, dangerous animal. He fears the things he would do for you. To you.

He needs to remember you like this. All fucked out and beautiful in your post-coitus glow, one hand rested under your cheek. He goes back to you, grabbing his phone to snap a picture of you. And then several more.

He has to see his daughters this weekend so his time with you is fleeting. And he won’t be around immediately after either, since he’s decided to make a little impromptu trip up to New York to pay a friendly visit to your ex.

He rejoins you in the bedroom, flipping on the wall unit air conditioning before sliding into bed next to you, wrapping you in his arms as he places kisses where he left marks on your neck. You utter a small, chirping sound, settling into his arms as the rest of your mind slips away to sleep.

——

You aren’t sure how long you were out.

Your mouth is parched and you’re simultaneously freezing and burning up, a layer of sweat between your bodies where your skin makes contact. He’s got you tangled up in his arms and he’s like a massive furnace, smothering you with his impressive body heat.

But the A/C is also going and everywhere the air touches is freezing, your skin bubbling with goosepimples.

You shift, hoping it will rouse him. You need to get home. When it doesn’t work, you move your limbs more, stretching and quietly murmuring his name. He eventually stirs, looking down at you with sleepy baby cow eyes, somehow soft in their regard of you, despite every debauched and depraved thing he did.

“Dave, I need to go.”

He frowns. He has to leave tomorrow morning for Virginia, but he was hoping you’d stay, wanting your face to be the last he sees before then.

“Spend the night. I make a mean bowl of cereal,” he jokes, the edge of his lip quirking up. “Or we can order in.”

You deliberate on it. Dave absolutely wrecked you, brought you the brink of losing yourself several times, frightened you and hurt you. You let him. You wanted it—you liked it. And you like him.

But your ex ruined you in the worst of ways. Things had moved quickly with him, you being absolutely starstruck in love from the start, and look where it got you. As much as you like Dave, you fear history repeating itself. You barely know him. You can’t risk going down the same road again.

“Next time,” you offer as compromise. He doesn’t do anything to hide his disappointment, but he nods in confirmation anyway. As much as he needs you to stay, he doesn’t want to push you away with his neediness.

“Next time,” he repeats with a nod. “Sure.”

You get up to use the rest room, slipping back into your clothes, checking yourself out in the mirror as you do so and notice how you’re absolutely riddled with marks. You can hide out in your apartment tomorrow, sure, but you aren’t sure what you’ll do for work. Wear a scarf, maybe.

“Let me walk you home,” Dave says as you gather your things, taking the grocery bag from you, even though it really isn’t that heavy. You lift heavier boxes of coffee at work, after all. “Please.”

“Dave,” you say with a laugh, “I live, like, a hundred feet from you.”

He offers a weak, nervous laugh of his own in response. He really is a man split right down the middle, personality wise. A study of duality. “I know. It’s just proper.”

You don’t fight it. You’re already turning down his request to stay; may as well give him this one. “Sure. Come on.”

He walks you down with his hand planted in the small of your back, gingerly stroking as you make your way outside. The air is stagnant and quiet, the faint sounds of traffic somewhere in the distance.

You reach the door of your building and turn to face Dave with a shy smile, your cheeks heating. You aren’t sure why, after what you let him do to you. “Well, this is me.”

“Yeah,” he says with a breathy laugh, placing his hands on his hips and looking you over. “I can walk you inside, if you want.”

“I think I can manage,” you reply with a smile. “Thanks, though. And thank you…for everything.”

As he passes you the bag, something else unspoken passes between the two of you, Dave rushing into you to plunge his tongue past your teeth, licking broad strokes into your mouth. You moan and sink your fingers into his hair without even thinking about it.

Fuck, he’s going to miss you.

He was hard again the moment you woke up naked in his arms, and he’s even harder now as he presses into you, cock twitching to feel you again.

“I have to go,” you plead against his lips. “I’ll see you this weekend. Promise.”

He frowns. He never told you about his daughters. Or his divorce. Now probably isn’t the most opportune time to bring it up, either.

“I’ll be out of town until next week,” he says. “But after. Yeah.”

It tugs at something in you, hearing his voice drop like that. You decide to compromise once again by offering your phone number up as penance.

“So, we’ll still be able to talk,” you say.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” He smiles, even though he doesn’t exactly feel up to it, the corners of his eyes wrinkling into crow’s feet.

“And bring me back a souvenir from wherever you’re going,” you say in jest. “I’m kidding, by the way. Don’t.”

He chuckles. “I’ll bring you back a “‘Virginia is For Lovers’ shirt,” he responds.

“Virginia? Nice.” You nod. “But seriously, don’t. And have a nice trip.”

“I’ll try,” he admits. And then he kisses you again, less aggressively this time, hand trailing down to the curve of your buttock, resting there, but not squeezing. It’s taking everything in him not to pull your shorts down and fuck you within an inch of your life, again, in the open like this. But he refrains.

“Talk to you soon, Dave,” you say as you take a step away from him, punching in the door code on the keypad. Dave watches your fingers move, tucking the number away for later use. 6435#. Easy enough.

“Soon,” he agrees. “Have a good night,” he says, his voice dropping to an affectionate octave when he says your name.

He watches you go. Watches you leave him. He swallows back his pride, knowing he hasn’t driven you away fully yet, but more than a little concerned he doesn’t have you exactly where he wants you.

He returns to his apartment alone, which already feels empty without you.

He knows it will be impossible to sleep right now. He brews himself a cup of Earl Grey and takes it over to his computer, the screen shining a bright white in his irises as he sits down to do some digging on Jonathan. He has enough information to go on; now it’s just a matter of filling in the gaps.

He can’t wait to pay your ex a visit.

——

Max surprises himself when his heart drops at not seeing you at the shop the next day.

Maurizio is there, whom he greets unenthusiastically, his ex-schoolmate little more than an acquaintance at this point, but the interaction is amiable enough. And some kid with a face full of piercings manning the counter who’s maybe all of eighteen at best, as far as Max can tell.

At least that pink haired bitch isn’t working today, Max thinks.

He orders a large Americano and a cookie to go, his usual order. He asks if you’re working today. The metal-faced kid—whose name tag says Vincent, and whom he recognizes from yesterday—tells him you’re off today.

“Thanks.” Figures you wouldn’t be here. For whatever reason he can’t seem to fathom, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind since yesterday. Even wore the same tie as a reminder, which is something that meticulous, obsessed-with-his-own-appearance Max does not do. Ever.

He takes his Americano and cookie and leaves, thinking about you on his way to work as he takes small sips of the subpar coffee. He wonders what you do in your free time. What you’re doing now.

He thinks, perhaps, he’ll drop in after work. He knows where you live now, after all.

He can’t wait to see your face when he shows up unannounced at your door.

@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @survivingandenduring @oberynslady @chronically-ghosted @onmysluttyknees @kellybelly1978 @annieispunk @sarap-77

Enjoy! 😘

[lunarmoves]

K'esyo seems a bit confused, or maybe conflicted(?), by what's going on.

yeah! confused mostly, i think. my vague ideas for that au revolved around sun & moon getting cursed so they turned into eclipse. kind of like a steven universe-type fusion or something LOL. here's what i was thinking:

so we have the gods, right? sun and moon and also the rest of the glamrocks & puppet. maybe even baby, not sure, i havent thought about it too deeply. but anyways theyre the gods that rule over the earth, but a loong long time ago there was another god (afton). he was like, the Big Bad and was killing a bunch of humans bc he's a god of chaos or whatever. so the other gods used their powers to force him into a prison of sorts where he was sedated

except, as the years (and we're talking HUNDREDS of years here) go on, he slowly starts to regain consciousness. not strongly by any means, but strong enough. enough that he could use his powers to influence any humans that go close enough to his prison (which is literally just a mountain/volcano).

and who gets close to his prison one day? vanessa. she was just trying to pick some magic flowers that grew specifically on afton's mountain. and so he kind of corrupts her mind and sends her on a task of cursing the gods with some of his own power. cuz what does afton thrive on as a god of chaos? you guessed it, chaos.

and maybe vanessa goes after a few of the glamrocks first (maybe monty and chica or smth). which causes trouble and catches the attention of the other gods (puppet, freddy, roxy). so theyre out here trying to deal with corrupted monty & chica while ALSO trying to keep humans safe PLUS controlling monty and chica's godly domains (the ocean and food/harvest, respectively). and baby in the meantime is like, secretly ("secretly") on afton's side and takes this chance to also wreak havoc idk. point is, a lot is happening and the gods are stretched thin

sun & moon hear about everything, but theyre busy with the cycle of day/night so they cant really do anything to help too much. maybe they get delegated the tasks of helping with other godly domains while the rest of the glamrocks try to get rid of the corruption plaguing monty & chica. and then theyre also dealing with baby so. LOTS of tasks get shuffled around in an attempt to keep humans away from the knowledge that something is wrong (because that would only bring about more chaos)

buuuut womp womp sun & moon were so focused on both the day/night cycle and handling monty & chica's domains (they are tired, their powers have never been used so much before) that they get cursed by vanessa sneaking up on them. she basically fuses them into eclipse bc they are more powerful when their powers are combined like that (making them one of the strongest gods--perfect for doing a little mass murdering).

and moon--realizing what was about to happen as the curse settles into their mind--puts him and sun in a deep slumber in an attempt to circumvent the chaos that would ensue. and weeeellll sure it works, but it means day/night no longer occurs. which is chaotic in itself

so eclipse is the fusion of sun and moon that happened moments before moon took over and put them to sleep. and see, eclipses are rare in this universe. like, once every thousands of years, rare. so it makes sense that he would be a forgotten god, especially since he's technically just sun & moon combined.

and maybe sun and moon arent on the best of terms when they get cursed too. which is why eclipse is such a sporadic being upon being woken up by yn. it's sun and moon fighting for control in their body & they cannot separate bc of the curse either. and then they got afton whispering into their ear to kill people, which is an L.

and our poor, poor yn is caught up in more than they can handle, dealing not only with eclipse and trying to break the curse on him but also all the other gods and vanessa and baby and welp. not a fun time incoming for sure.

[jiminjeonging]

himbo jm x nerd mj

himbo jm is dumb but smart at the same time in the same way dogs are very good learners but will still eat grass until they get sick and will run headfirst into glass doors. like she may be an idiot but shes not stupid have some respect for her name!!! shes a swimmer, carries herself with confidence in water but a big loser outside of it.

nerd mj is someone thats kinda done with everyones bullshit, stoic on the outside- imagine 240902 soundcheck mj with the cold demeanour of her dancing tiktok- and she is sooo "people be scared to say stuff BUT IM NOT that's why everybody want to kill me, or have sex with me" meme. she has about 3 friends maybe 3.5 and happy with it. she just wants to do well in classes and move on with her life. no interest in socializing whatsoever.

their meeting is classic. jm's coach ask mj to tutor jm so she can be eligible for swimming competitions coming up since she cant compete with a failing grade, promosing her extra credits from class' proff. mj is like 'whatever fine.' she heard about jm before— tall, a jock, charming enough to talk her way out of a ticket, supposedly gets around. but she wasnt someone that she gave too much thought about it. she figures the swimmer would be mildly annoying to deal with like most people are. so when they first meet mj is a little surprised because she doesnt seem like what ppl described at all.

she seems a little fidgety with the way shes shifting her weight from one foot to the other, hands stuffed to her jacket pockets, then pulled out again just to adjust her collar. when her gaze darts from her shoes to the library entrance and back, she finally notices mj approaching. she immediately stands up straight before wiping her hands to her jeans and offers mj a handshake. 'Thanks for doing this,'

mj waves a hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it.” but when jm just stares stares and stares, mj raises an eyebrow, feeling a bit weirded out. “What?” she finally asks, breaking the silence. jm’s ears redden almost instantly, and she clears her throat, looking anywhere but at her. “Nothing! Um, shall we…?” she stammers, gesturing toward the library entrance so mj just shrugs and leads the way.

once they start studying, mj quickly picks up on one thing: jm is clearly nervous as fuck. It’s in the way she fumbles with her pencil, twirling it between her fingers only to drop it more than once. she keeps adjusting her position, shifting in her chair like she can’t quite get comfortable. when mj asks her a question, she answers quickly, her voice a little higher than normal even cracks halfway through, and mj has to bite back a chuckle, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling. and those glances—jm keeps sneaking them mj’s way, only to look down at her notes the moment she catches her.

is she scared of me or something? mj wonders, starting to feel a little annoyed. she knows she has a reputation for being a little aloof, but she didn’t think it’d make the girl this on edge.

their study sessions go like this: mj explaining concepts while jm nods along, but she eventually realizes that the swimmer isn’t actually absorbing much of anything. jm never asks questions about the stuff she doesn’t understand, just scribbling down notes and offering stiff smiles. mj gets really fed up when she gives jm a mock test, and the girl gets more than half of the questions wrong.

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?” mj blurts out, cleary frustrated and to be honest, she was starting to get offended a little bit. she’d been trying to be as patient and kind as possible, but it felt like all her efforts were going down the drain. “I’m not going to bite you, you know.”

jm’s ears redden again, like they always did when mj confronted her. she might have found how easily she blushed cute if the reason for it wasn’t so damn annoying. jm’s eyes dart everywhere but toward mj, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. after a few seconds of awkward silence, she finally mumbles, “I, um… wanted to… ask you out.”

“Oh.” mj blinks, the realization settling in, but it still doesn’t make much sense. she crosses her arms and says, “That’s a stupid reason for not listening to me.”

jm jumps in quickly, “I am listening! You always have my full attention, it’s just that sometimes...” her voice trails off, confidence crumbling. “...sometimes I don’t get what you’re saying.”

mj narrows her eyes. “Then why don’t you just ask about it?”

“I didn't want you to think I’m stupid,” jm mutters and mj finds her shyness adorable.

mj lets out a short, dry laugh. “Well, I wasn’t thinking that, but I am now. You’re dumb for wasting both of our time like this.”

jm’s cheeks flush red, and she fumbles to recover. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Let me make it up to you on our date.” she finally meets mj’s gaze, nervously chewing her lip as she waits for a response.

mj looks her over, considering for a moment before she says, “How about this. Pass your class, and I’ll let you take me out.” she doesn’t really know why she’s entertaining the idea. she could’ve just said no and walked away. maybe she figures this will be enough motivation for jm to finally take studying seriously. yeah, that’s it. and the determined look jm gives her, nodding eagerly, is proof that her plan just might work.

in the days that follow, jm isn't nearly as nervous as before, and mj is happy. finally she feels like she’s not talking to a brick wall. but those lingering glances don’t stop, and well mj is still annoyed. for all the wrong reasons tho. It’s not because she thinks jm is distracted no matter thats what she wanted to believe. it’s because of the way her own heartbeat speeds up every time she catches the girl looking at her like she’s peering right into her soul.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

queen of the underworld: transfem stevie gets bred by kas!eddie while theyre both stuck in the upside down.

tags: monsterfucking, oviposition, breeding, implausible resilience of the human body

warning for slight dubcon bc stevie has no idea whats going on in the beginning and monster!eddie cant speak or be normal, but once she catches up she is. Ready And Willing.

also on ao3 here

                                 -----------------------------------------------

Stevie hoists Dustin above her head, pulling on the last of her adrenaline to propel him through the gate in the ceiling of the trailer. The gate is closing rapidly now, the link between the dimensions decaying quickly following Vecna’s death. Stevie took her role as babysitter seriously, making sure everyone else was through the gate first, but now, with everyone else on the right side up, she’s now realising that without anyone’s help and the rope cut, she’s going to really struggle getting through herself.

She frantically looks around the trailer, looking for something to stand on for the extra boost as her friends desperately call her name through the portal. The demobats had done a number on the room, wrecking tables and chairs and anything else Stevie could have used to reach the gate. Her eyes fall on the couch, turned over against the wall on the opposite side of the trailer. It's heavy, and after a moment of pushing she's only moved it about a foot closer to the hole in the ceiling. 

She looks back at her friends through the gate, which has now shrunk to the width of her shoulders. She's not gonna make it. 

“Stay there, guys!” She yells. Nancy’s already trying to climb on a coffee table, and Robin is holding Dustin back with tears in her eyes. “Don't come back for me, okay? Keep it closed.”

“What??? No, we're not leaving you-”

“Dustin!” Stevie shouts, interrupting the sobbing boy. The gate is about the size of her head now. “It's okay. I love you, kid.”

The strange sucking sound of the closing portal cuts off Dustin's scream of anguish. And then it's quiet, except for the sound of rolling thunder in the distance. 

Stevie sits on the floor and sobs. 

She's not sure how long she stays there, curled up crying on the floor of the Munsons’ trailer as she comes to terms with being stuck in the Upside Down, but eventually she straightens herself out. Picks up her bat and braves the outdoors. 

Eddie’s body is still on the ground outside. 

They'd tried to carry him back, at first, before they realised the gates were closing and they were out of time. He's lying there, eyes closed, guitar tucked under his arm where Dustin had placed it like you would a bouquet of flowers at a funeral. Whoever said people look peaceful in death was full of shit. Eddie looks like he was eaten by bats and died in pain, his features still kind of scrunched up like being dead hurts just as much as dying did. 

Stevie should bury him, she thinks. He deserves that much. 

She looks around, but can't find a shovel. The ground is weird and hard, anyway, and with her injuries she probably couldn't dig much of a grave without tearing something. Instead, she finds a bunch of rocks, and piles them on top of his body, like a very shoddily made tomb. She places his guitar gently on top, and works a stick into the ground as a headstone. She'd considered tying two together to make a cross, but figured it didn't really fit his aesthetic. If nothing else, she knew Eddie loved his aesthetic. 

She sits with him for a moment. Doesn't say a prayer, knows even if there was a god to hear it he wouldn't be listening to prayers from this place. But she sits, and she thinks about Eddie, about a boy who by all rights should have been terrifying, and instead was one of the warmest people she'd ever met. She hopes he gets some peace now. 

And then she wanders off into the Upside Down. 

She manages to last two weeks before it all goes to shit. 

At least, Stevie thinks it's been two weeks. It's hard to measure time here, where there's no sun or moon and none of the clocks in the empty houses actually work. She doesn't seem to need to eat or drink, although she does still sleep, seemingly more out of habit than anything else. Sleep comes fitfully, her ears constantly straining to hear if the chitters of this dimension's creatures are coming closer, but it seems as good a way to measure the time as any. 

She's surprised by how… calm the Upside Down feels now. She remembers Nancy saying something about how Vecna came from their dimension and used the hive mind for his own purposes. Now, with him dead, the place seems to be settling back into some kind of natural order. The demobats don't attack if they're on their own- they recognise that she's bigger than them, and wouldn't be worth the effort it would take to eat her. Possibly they remember how she ripped one of their siblings in half with her bare hands. She's still pretty proud of that one. The demodogs aren't a threat either. While they do travel in packs and are more likely to attack, they can't deal with doors very well. All she has to do to avoid them is get indoors. It's almost funny to hear them whining and scrabbling at the door like a dog put in time out. And by funny, she means terrifying. 

The real problem is the demogorgons. She hasn't seen many, but they're big, strong, and smart, a dangerous combination. They are weak to fire, but the lighter in her pocket is running dangerously low on fuel, and the wood from the twisted trees that grow here doesn't burn well. Her best bet with the demogorgons is running. Running like hell. 

Which is what she's doing now. 

She'd cut her hand boarding up a broken window in the house she's staying in (not hers, she's not opening that can of worms), and not five seconds later, the demogorgon had appeared, drawn to the scent of her blood like a shark. 

She races through the woods, not chancing a look behind her because she's seen too many horror movies to risk a cliché trip. There are less vines now that Vecna’s dead, but she avoids stepping on them anyway, unsure if the creatures are still connected to them and unwilling to risk drawing more attention if they are. She can hear the demogorgon closing in on her. Its shrieks are getting closer, and after one particularly close growl she thinks she can feel the barest hint of claws brushing against her back. 

And then, the flap of wings, another shriek, followed by the unmistakable sound of flesh tearing. 

Almost against her will, she turns, desperate to know what happened to her pursuer even as her mind screams at her to keep running. Something is crouched over the now motionless corpse of the demogorgon, tearing at it with claws and teeth. It seems humanoid, but huge, over seven feet tall with giant bat-like wings that obscure most of its ashy grey body. Multiple tails wrap around the demogorgon’s body, holding it in place as the creature uses its hands to rip it apart. 

Stevie whimpers, backing up on instinct. And then, like all the girls in horror movies Stevie swore she'd never be, she trips and falls on her ass. 

The new creature whips its head towards her instantly. Its face is humanoid, too, head covered in a riot of black curls, and with big, round eyes that literally glow red, like two stoplights sitting in its head. And beyond that, when she really looks, it's… familiar. 

“Eddie?” she squeaks, a little breathlessly. 

The creature- Eddie- looks at her for a moment, head tilting with some emotion Stevie can't place- and then it pounces, scooping her into its arms and flying off into the stormy sky. 

Eddie brings Stevie into some kind of cave system. As soon as they're no longer so high in the sky she'd die if he dropped her, she starts fighting, pushing at his arms and wriggling desperately. He merely tightens his grip, growls a warning that has Stevie going limp in his arms. 

He carries her deeper into the caves, taking so many turns so quickly she knows she doesn't have a hope of finding her way out of here on her own. And that's if he doesn't, like, eat her. This seems like a lot of effort to go through if he was just going to eat her though, and there had been something like recognition in his eyes when she'd said his name, so Stevie just closes her eyes and hopes for the best. 

She opens them again when she's placed gently onto something soft. She's in a cavern now, the room lit by the gentle yellow glow of strange flowers blooming from the cave walls, and she sits in a strange collection of various fabrics. It looks like… a nest? She recognises a few of the items it's made of- the curtains from her room in the Harrington house, a few pieces of clothing that seem to belong to both her and Eddie, all pilfered from the Upside Down versions of their homes and arranged carefully in a circle, pillows padding the walls of the nest. It's… strangely cosy, as much as it is confusing. 

“Wh- Eddie?” she asks, eyes lifting once more to the strange being in front of her. It's definitely Eddie, still has his tattoos, although they've warped and stretched from his massive growth spurt. There are patches of lighter skin on his face, chest, and stomach, and she recognises them as scars left over from his death. It's oddly comforting to see something that links him so clearly to the body Stevie had buried weeks ago, even though so much has changed. His wings, the black tipped fingers that taper into claws, the long fangs, all pale in significance to the intense stare he gives her, so like the one he'd had when he told her she was ‘metal’ for having the strength to transition in small town Indiana. 

Eddie rumbles a growl at her, low but still somehow nonthreatening, like distant thunder on a warm summer night. When he advances toward her, however, she instinctively rears back. Eddie whines plaintively, and she forces herself to remain still as he… scents her? He rubs his cheeks against hers, buries his nose in her hair and neck as he purrs like a seven-foot tall housecat.

“Eddie,” she chuckles breathlessly, burying her hands in his mane of hair and sort of petting his head. He seems to enjoy it, though, if the way he keens and purrs even harder is any indication. “What are you d- oh!”

Stevie’s words are cut off with a gasp as Eddie licks her, starting at the base of her throat and dragging all the way up her cheek to her temple. She jumps, trying to lean away, but Eddie merely circles a long arm around her waist and pulls her in even closer with a growl, continuing to lick up and down her neck. His tongue doesn’t feel normal, thicker, pointed, and strangely slimy in a way that seems to leave a light film against her skin. It’s long too, able to reach from her collarbone to her temple all at once.

Stevie shudders, pushing gently at Eddie’s shoulders and opening her mouth to say… something. She’s not sure if it would be a complaint or a request for more, but she’s sure she would have figured it out if Eddie hadn’t taken her parted lips as an invitation. He slides his massive tongue into her mouth, curling it deliciously around her own. She practically melts as it fills her mouth, and she can feel Eddie's rumble in return, travelling from her tongue down her throat and settling low in her stomach. 

Eddie’s hands travel to Stevie’s neckline, claws slicing her shirt to shreds as Stevie gasps as best she can around the thick tongue in her mouth. 

“Mmph-” Stevie fights a bit against Eddie’s hands, only succeeding in scratching herself up as he disassembles her bra. His claws travel lightly down her torso, teasing with a light, rumbling growl, before tearing into her jeans. He cuts through the thicker fabric like butter, taking her underwear with it, and Stevie can’t help but whimper in a combination of fear and lust.

Eddie’s tongue withdraws from her mouth, leaving her panting from the loss. He quickly slides down her body, leaving little kitten licks over each scratch his claws had left, before he reaches her dick and just. Stares for a moment. His head tilts and he voices a little trill that reads as something like confusion.

Eddie had known about her before, obviously, but it’s possible there’s not enough left of him in there to really understand. He seems to take it in stride though, lifting and parting her legs, inspecting everything she has to offer, before rumbling another purr and swiftly wrapping his beautiful tongue around her dick.

Stevie melts as Eddie tongues at her cock. It’s nothing a human could do, tongue wrapping around her like a tentacle and milking. She’s never experienced anything like it, and it’s making her lose her mind. Eddie’s hands find her hips, holding her still as she helplessly tries to thrust into his warm mouth. His claws dig in, leaving little pinpricks of blood blooming along her hip bones, and she keens at the sensation.

Eddie moves his head down further, wrapping his lips around just the head of her cock, his tongue sliding even further down her shaft, circling one of her balls before teasing at her hole. 

All it takes to make her cum is a second of light suction around her head and the feeling of the tip of Eddie’s tongue entering her ass. Eddie sucks it all down, retracting his tongue and collecting her release in his mouth. He pulls back, and- oh god. 

He spits her cum into his hand and then brings it down between his own legs, massaging it into a slit Stevie hadn't noticed before. Soon, with a rumbling growl, something begins to emerge from the slit. It's a dark red, pointed at the top, and it seems to just keep going. Stevie is both excited and terrified to have that in her. It looks like it would go up to her bellybutton. Fuck, there are ridges down the underside, that thing's going to tear her up.

Eddie grabs her around the waist (and yeah, the fact that one of his hands fits almost the entire circumference of her waist is definitely doing it for her) and himself around the dick, lining himself up with her hole and attempting to push in. He’s not getting far, and Stevie whimpers, hands desperately batting at his shoulders in an attempt to get his attention. 

“Wait! Wait Eddie please you're too big- I need prep, you'll hurt me-” she begs, tears forming in her eyes as the head of Eddie’s cock catches threateningly against her rim. 

Thankfully, Eddie pauses, head tilting with something like confusion as he seems to consider her words. Stevie almost sobs in relief as he releases her waist, pulls his giant cock away from her hole. And then she sobs with pleasure as he kneels between her spread legs once again and begins to circle her hole with his slimy tongue.

The pointed tip of it goes in easily, its path eased by the strange, slick spit his mouth produces. And then it burrows deeper, getting thicker and thicker with each centimeter that enters her. It’s still definitely a stretch, but it burns so good as he fucks her with his monster tongue, the wet squelching noises echoing off of the cavern walls along with her debauched moans and pants. Stevie goes limp in ecstasy every time it brushes against her prostate, slick but delightfully rough in both texture and movement. She comes again when he curls it inside of her, doubling back on himself in a way that has her screaming with both pleasure and delightful, delirious pain.

She loses track of how long he fucks her like that, limbs loose and mind hazy, until he finally deems her ready for his cock and retreats, letting out a soothing chitter when she mewls at the gaping loss.

And then he’s grabbing her waist again, lifting up her limp body like a ragdoll and lining himself up.

She still screams when he enters her.

He’s as gentle as he probably can be, and she’s probably looser and slicker than she’s ever managed herself, but that huge, strangely shaped cock still seems to split her wide open. He only has the flared head in, but he just keeps going, each ridge catching delightfully on her stretched and abused hole. Stevie’s beyond words now, babbling broken sounds and breathy moans as Eddie continues to slide inside, panting roughly with what must be the extreme restraint he’s showing in not just using her like a fleshlight.

It takes forever for him to bottom out, and when he does, Stevie swears she can feel him in her throat. He chitters again, and when he purrs it vibrates up his cock and into her core in a way that seems to shake more overstimulated tears from her eyes. He brings a clawed hand up to her stomach, presses on the bottom of her ribcage, and when Stevie finds the strength to move her head from where it’s lolled back against the bottom of the nest, she sees that he’s pressing on himself, on the tip of the giant bulge straining out from her stomach. Her poor, tired cock gives another valiant twitch at the sight.

Eddie seems to take her surprised moan as permission to move.

He starts slow at first, but soon seems to be too caught up in his own pleasure to worry about her comfort as he begins to fuck her hard and fast, growling animalistically as he does. He doesn’t even bother moving his hips much, just wraps two hands tight around her waist until they overlap and moves her up and down his cock. She’s never felt so weak, so used in her life, powerless to do anything other than hang limply off his dick while tears stream down her face and high, breathy moans tear themselves from her throat. Anything recognisable as Eddie in him seems gone now, replaced by something animal, something monster as he snarls down at her, red lamplight eyes fixed on the point where their bodies meet.

It’s a few minutes of being torn apart by his size and the terrible, amazing ridges on his dick when something changes. He presses her into the nest, folding her in half and laying his entire giant body against hers as his thrusts change from hard and brutal slams of hip against hip to something slower, more grinding, but so much deeper. And then something else changes too. Stevie’s weak body still jumps in surprise as Eddie’s cock swells enormously, first at the base by her entrance, and then seemingly travelling up the length of his cock until it settles deep in her abdomen. And then it happens again.

Eggs. Eddie’s laying eggs in her.

At this point, Stevie’s too tired and cockdrunk to really question it at this point. She simply lies there, letting herself be torn open over and over as the eggs pass through Eddie’s cock and implant themselves inside of her. Each one is accompanied by a rush of sticky, viscous fluid that fills her so completely it spills out even with Eddie’s monster cock plugging her up. Her stomach is definitely distended now, and she whines to see the bulge peeking out beneath the small swell of her breasts. She looks pregnant. Well, she guesses she is now.

With quadruplets. Eddie gets four eggs in her before he finishes with a keen, panting and looking down at her with such pride and affection on his face that Stevie would definitely start crying if she wasn’t already.

Eddie gently shifts them onto their sides, still fully seated within her but turning so they’re both lying down facing each other. He purrs contentedly as he pushes her hair back from her sweaty forehead, licks the tears from her face until she’s giggling, and then just rests his forehead against hers as he gazes lovingly down at her stomach, stroking gently.

“Baby,” he says. It comes out croaky and a little garbled, like his throat isn’t made for speech, but despite this he still sounds so much like Eddie, like the sweet and kind of weird guy that Stevie had started to fall for all those weeks ago, that it brings another tear to her eye.

She smiles, places her hand gently over his, over the bulge in her stomach where their eggs are resting. “Yeah,” she says, a little breathlessly, because she truly can’t believe that she has somehow ended up trapped in a hell dimension carrying a monster’s eggs, and even more than that, she can’t believe how happy she is about it. “We’re gonna have babies.”

And as Eddie’s face lights up, radiating a kind of warmth and happiness that Stevie can’t remember ever seeing on a person back in the Right Side Up, she realises: This is home. Right here, curled up with Eddie in their nest.

“Mine,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on Stevie’s forehead. And Stevie can’t think of anyone else’s she’d rather be.

[jacesbeloved]

fucking flower

summary: a simple snooping around in your hut may have resulted in a flower making you two do something both of you have been longing for.

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!reader

warnings: smut, MDNI, sex pollen, aged up!neteyam, kind of public sex, cunt slapping, spanking (just 1 i think), established relationship/friendship, subtle mutual pining, rough sex basically, both of them basically liking each other but they cant risk their childhood friendship but thats not mentioned anywhere lol

"Yeah... what's this one?"

"Will you do me the pleasure of leaving me alone? Just this once, please," You groaned at the eldest Sully boy, your words falling on deaf ears as he continued picking at the flasks and jars you had on your shelves. 

It's been two hours since you two got back from the hunt party earlier, you weren't necessarily hunting animals, you were hunting for plants and herbs. While Neteyam and the other hunters flew on their ikrans with their bows and arrows, you and your group of healers were picking herbs from the trees.

Once they finished, they'd fly by your area and bring you back. Most often than not give all of the healers their time alone in organizing and mixing herbs and plants for those who were injured. That was usually how it went, of course, with the exception of the might olo'eyktan's son.

Being too busy with grinding in the herbs, you didn't notice him grab one of the clay jars, throwing it in the air and catching it as he walked toward you. Neteyam inspected the odd shaped jar, not seeing any label on it compared to the others.

Easily pulling off the lid, a strong hits him like a tree crashing into him face first. It was a foul one, a small he usually caught on whenever he came across an animal that has been dead for a while.

That was what it smelt like, his nose crunching in disgust. As he placed the lid back on, right before it could small the teeny tiny gap, the whole scent changed.

He smelled you.

Neteyam peeked inside of the jar, a flower of green and violet with peculiar petals stored inside. Feeling his mind make fun of him, he pushed his nose close to the opening of the jar as he took in a breath but there was no difference. It was your scent. Your indescribable scent that he had never forgotten ever since you two met at four years old.

It smelled everything about you. The flowers you put in your hair, the small tinge of blood that he used to smell on your whenever their hunt parties got a bit bloody, the smell of the trees on your hair— next thing he knew, he was longing for another smell, another something.

Closing off the lid with every bit of restraint he had, he places the jar on top of your table. His mouth hanging agape as heat started consuming his body, feeling himself grow sweatier all of a sudden.

"Hey baby- Y/N?" he stammered, clearing his throat when you turned sharply to glare at him, the pet name catching your attention. You brushed it off, going back to grinding the herbs on your mortar with the butt of your knife.

"D'you really have to stay here? I can finish way faster if you leave-" Fingertips ghosted your bare skin, a familiar, warm presence making itself known from behind you. Your head snapped behind you, seeing the familiar blue na'vi that you have grown accustomed to seeing in your hut all the time, inches away from pressing himself behind you.

"You sure?" He whispered breathless, a weird feeling coming onto your body. What was happening?

Neteyam inhaled deeply, dangerously close to your neck as you notice his hands trap you, gripping the table tightly.

"You smell— fuck... heavenly," the eldest Sully boy had his eyes closed, deep groans sounding through his throat before he snaps back into himself. He swiftly retracted his hands, blinking rapidly as the heat in him started to engulf him again.

You looked at him in deep concern— longing. It was the first time you saw and heard him like that. The deep timbre of his voice that always made your knees weak but you never admitted that, even to yourself.

He turned you around gently, head falling down to your shoulders, still inhaling your scent as it relieved him.

"What the hell was in that jar?" He laughed, trying to shake off the feeling, murmuring quiet apologies as he does. "I told you to not touch my stuff didn't I? Which did you open?" You demanded, touching his shoulder. His warm skin making your ears perk up.

Neteyam pulls back, scratching the back of his neck. The two of you lock eyes for the first time this night, you gulp when you notice his pupils dilated, his chest heaving up and down.

"Which did you open?!" You asked even louder as you push past him.

The male pulls you back to his grasp, his strong hand wrapping around your wrist while the other places an open jar right by your nose. Your face scrunches, the foul smell hitting you now, your throat started retching right as the smell changed all of a sudden.

"What do you smell?" He asks lowly, eyes staring at you with desire, your ears fanning up and down in an excited motion.

You felt your pupils dilate as the smell made you feel tingles all over your body. The scent that you've been longing for now, a familiar one that you always smell every fucking time;

It smelt of Neteyam.

When your mouth hang agape, a silent gasp, looking doe-eyed at the male towering over you, Neteyam swung the jar to the side without any care in the world. You smacked him on the chest because of it but he couldn't care less, pulling you close to him as he started to inhale your scent again. His smell also invading yours as heat coursed through your body.

The male groaned deeply, your pelvis hitting his, finally getting some friction in his growing hard-on. "Can I touch- Oh, shit, you, please," he pleaded.

You unknowingly nodded, mind starting to become hazy, not really knowing what was happening. Neteyam's hands were quick to move on your skin, cupping your face to pull your lips on his.

"What the fuck is in that vase?" He slipped in between kisses, panting heavily as he started humping your thighs with need. You whined at him, pouting as you kissed him this time. Your tongue intertwining with his, hands reaching back to pull at his braids making him groan.

You pulled away for some air, Neteyam kissing down your neck with wet and sloppy kisses as his hands go busy in taking off your top. One swift tug from the string behind you and the woven top falls down. His eyes narrowing, lips smirking, mouth watering as he latches onto one of your nipples.

A high-pitched whine left your lips as you arched your back, giving him more room while he smothered your breasts in lustful kisses. Sucking ever so harshly at the soft skin, mewls pouring out of your lips. Your hands moved behind you, pulling fast to untie your own loincloth and ask for some relief from the male. 

Neteyam continued his assault on your chest, looking up at you who had your head back and eyes closed. His hand wandered down with no hesitation, fingers coming in contact with your sensitive slit, his lips stretching to the side in a smirk when he felt your wetness coating his fingers.

He plunged deep inside of you, your head shooting forward, forehead scrunched as you moaned at the sudden penetration. Your walls immediately burned at the stretch, so long since your last time having something inside of you that wasn't just your fingers.

"Is this— Is this really us or is it- Oh fuck, you're sucking me in so good, baby," you clenched even more at his comment, his fingers scissoring you open as your hands rested on his shoulders. Your breath got caught on your throat when you tried to response, moans and mewls spilling out as his pace quickened.

"It's- 'Teyam!" He pulled his fingers out making you whine, frantically looking for an open space. Once his eyes caught on a vacant table with just random leaves on it, he grabs you by your waist, slapping your ass making you jump. Your legs instinctively wrapping around his thin waist.

He places you back down with a loud thump, undoing his own loincloth before he gave your whole abdomen quick kisses leading down to your aching center.

"It's our bodies-" Neteyam held both of your knees, spreading your legs wide. Your head fell back on the wooden table, clutching your chest as you felt his breath right near your pussy. "It's our bodies?" He breathed out. You gulped, trying to complete your train of thought.

"It's our bodies being influenced by the damn flower," you said in one quick breath. Neteyam's head moved to the side, comprehending what you just said making him halt his movements. "So this isn't... actually us? Our ownselves" 

You sighed, "Why is that a big deal- Oh, great mother, you're right on my cunt, 'Teyam." 

He blew some air onto your leaking cunt, watching your reaction closely with his hooded eyes. "Do you want it?" Your legs twitched at the cold air, threatening to close but his hands were holding you wide open. His head still right by your cunt, one small push and he'd be face deep in it. 

"Do I want it?" You repeated with a tone of disbelief. You held your body up, grabbing his face up and giving him a wet kiss. "If you do not make me come right now, I'll fuck myself in front of you." 

His eyes darkened when you whispered in his ear, swearing to yourself that you heard a growl escape his lips before he goes down on you. His lips immediately latched itself on your slit, licking up a long stripe from your hole to your clit, toying with the small bud with his tongue. 

"Tastes better than I imagined," he mumbled, face still deep into your cunt, the vibrations making your body squirm. He reached up, fondling with your breasts with one hand as the other pushed into your hole. A loud gasp escaped your lips, Neteyam putting in a second, a third, all in a span of seconds all the while he circled your clit with his warm tongue. 

Neteyam kept his eyes stuck on your face, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, mouth hanging open with your tongue laid flat outside like an animal waiting for some water. You felt his fingers enter your mouth, your tongue sucking on his digits without a second thought. He groaned again, the warmness of your mouth fueling his imagination once more on what it would feel like with his- 

"'Teyam!" You screamed, the said male spitting on your cunt loudly. He grinned, not even caring about the volume of your sounds. It spurred him on even more thinking of the fact that the male na'vis outside could be hearing you scream his name, moaning it out. 

"Give me one before I fuck you, baby," he says, fingers curling expertly inside of you. Your stomach tightened in its familiar knot, the older na'vi hitting all of your right spots as if he has it memorized. His fingers combined with the way his mouth was eating you out so good-- in a way you thought it was made for this and this only --it wouldn't be long before you release. 

Your hands left his forearm, his fingers falling from your mouth to your chin, drool dribbling down your chin. Pulling at his braids with need, grinding your heat on his face, the sounds of his fingers fucking you into oblivion was way too erotic. "It's- 'so good, 'Teyam. It feels so good!"

You heard him chuckle, lips detaching from your clit. "Come on baby, give it to me, give it to your warrior." 

One, two, three more times he hit the sweet spot deep inside of you before you came with a loud scream of his name. Your legs shaking as it dangerously closed around his head. Neteyam held your thighs with his strong arms, spreading you apart once more, battling the way your body was shaking to clean you up-- taste you again. 

And damn, Neteyam had never tasted anything sweeter. 

"There's my good girl, atta baby." He placed a chaste kiss on top of your cunt, moving up to kiss you on your lips as well. You look at him tiredly, eyes hazy as he caressed your face, lips moving lazily at the praise. "You can give me another one, right?" he whispers in your ear, licking your ear lobe as he does. 

"Neteyam..." you sighed when he pulls away. Propping yourself up by your elbows as you watch him carefully pump his length, the long and thick blue cock making your mouth water. This was the first time you ever saw him like this; way better than you have ever fantasized each night in your hut. 

He rubbed the head, spreading his pre-cum all over, head lolling back when he finally gets some relief after neglecting his own cock. You bit your lip, eyes glued on his cock. 

"Oh- Oh shit, fuck, just like that, baby— umfh, oh.." Neteyam got caught off-guard; your hand jerking him slowly, running your hand up and down his rock hard cock. His eyes rolling back when he watches you rub yourself with your fingers, gathering your slick and using it as lubrication on his cock. 

Before you could even think of giving him a handjob, his hand firmly grips both of yours, moving forward as he positions his cock by your entrance. The both of your staring down as he slowly pushes in. A long moan erupting from both of you when he inches himself inside. Your tight, velvety walls taking him in so well despite the burn in your pussy bordering the line between hurt and pleasure.

You had your arms clasped behind his neck, your foreheads touching as he moans deeply when he fully bottoms out inside of your. His hands holding your thighs firmly, thrusting slowly as he lets you adjust first. 

"Don't do that, baby please," Neteyam whispers, closing his eyes harshly when your walls tightened around him before he could even start fucking you. 

"Just fuck me, please," you plead, locking eyes with him. 

That and the innocent look you had on was all it took for him to snap his hips forward. The once slow and careful thrusts now replaced with quick and hard ones as he thrusted into you with much vigor, the table started shaking. "'Teyam, oh- ngh, oh my," you panted, breathing erratically as he impossibly quickened his pace. 

"Keep those legs open for me- good girl," he let go of your thighs, letting them fall on either side as he grabs your waist, your breasts that were jiggling up and down with the force of his thrusts getting all of his attention. Your hands scratched at his hands, sometimes pulling at your own hair.

Neteyam was hitting all of your right spots. The blunt mushroom head of his kissing your cervix numerous times now. Each time making you moan wantonly, not even caring about how loud you were being or even if someone was entering your hut. 

He brought his hand down to slap your clit, your loud yelp and sudden clench on his length making him smirk. You liked that. He did it once more, this time the sound that came out of your mouth much more whinier than before, his cock hardening even more. 

"Like it when I hit your pretty little cunt? Does my baby love it?" You nod your head eagerly. Your stomach tightening with the need for release.

He slapped your clit a few more times, rubbing it to soothe the stings. When he catches that split second silent gasp from you and your velvety walls clamping down on him like a vice, he flips you. Your chest faced down on the table, legs supporting your body as you were now bent over the table. 

This time, Neteyam didn't waste any time in letting you adjust. Pushing into you with a hard thrust, gripping your hips as he pulled you back on his cock whenever he thrusted forward. His cock hitting way deeper spots. "'Oh, Eywa! 'Teyam," the male's name seemed like a prayer coming from you, repeating his name over and over again as your legs shook. His arm that was now holding your waist being the only thing that was keeping you up on that damn table. 

"You close, baby? Me too- fuck... You gonna give it to me again, huh? Gonna give it to me, only to me?" He cooed, landing a sweet slap to your ass before he bends down to your ear, whispering filthy things as you felt his balls smacking your clit with each thrust. 

"Don't stop, please, 'Teyam," you begged, looking up at him with teary eyes. It felt so good. So fucking good.  

You could almost taste your release, the overstimulation slowly coming over you as his hips fucked into you in a rougher but slower pace. Calculated thrusts making you clench down on his cock. 

With one particular thrust, your whole vision blurred. Nothing but Neteyam's deep groans echoing in your ears as he rode out his high, feeling you cream on his cock before he pulls out. Spurting ropes of cum all over your ass, mouth hanging agape at the beautiful artwork in front of him. 

He kept his arm wrapped around you, supporting your whole body as it continued shaking, the wave of pleasure still coursing through each nerve in your body. Your body jolted forward, squealing when he slaps your cunt once more. "That fucking flower..."

"That fucking flower had me fucking you, baby."

thank you sooo much for reading! hearts, reactions, replies, and reblogs are very appreciated if you liked the story! <3 ^w^

[x1uizy]

starlight boys post-elim thoughts (link to old thread)

⚠️ contains spoilers ⚠️

honestly, this is abnormal for me but my top 9 really hasn't changed much: liu guanyou, sun yinghao, shao ziheng, lee hangyul, pentor, duan xingxing, zai, & yang dongwha, with some wiggle room for 9th.

of course, zai (20th) and yang dongwha (16th) aren't fully in the running, with zhang jijun (8th), noh minjae (9th), lee daeul (10th), he xi long (11th), hong sungmin (12th) congb (13th), xu shihuan (14th), yoojun (15th), wang kun (17th), lingqi (18th) and sun jiayang (19th) in the mix.

some relevant vote counts (without benefits*):

zhang jijun: 688,894

noh minjae: 650,336

yang dongwha : 399,145

zai: 356,251

*benefits are pretty much useless except to tiebreak the last elimination spot. in this round, neither eden nor choi junho got benefits though so it didn't matter, but if choi junho's team had won he would've made it instead of eden.

*because i find it interesting here are the instances where to wouldve made a difference in rank:

lee daeul (10) & noh minjae (9)

zai (20) & han jeongwoo (21)

etani hikari (26) & syo (27) - particularly interesting that their votes were sooooo close, only 2k off. if hikari's team had lost, syo would have gotten 26th with a 3k gap

kris (34) & phoom (35)

eden (36) & choi junho (37)

anyways 4-pick is bound to shake things up so we'll have to see what happens, but it seems unlikely right now that dongwha or zai will catch up to the debut seats. my primary hope is that top 7 stays the same, even if the ranks change.

thoughts on ranks 8 - 21

zhang jijun: intl fans have no idea who this man is 😭 i learned that hes an actor with over a mill on weibo & his fans might try to get him all the way to the finals but then drop him at the last minute. welcome back lu yuting & lelush.

noh minjae: i like him but it doesnt feel like the right group for him. he's talented but he doesnt fit. i wont be mad if he makes it and i think it could be interesting for him to play off of liu guanyou. but hangyul & minjae didnt make sense in a group together the first time around, this time is worse lmfao

lee daeul: once again, not the group for him. i think his one pick will be pretty strong moving forward but he probably needs to get his ass to modhaus for bripleS idk

he xilong: love him actually. he doesnt match the final group but he doesnt actively detract either. i think he could work. i want him to gain more confidence on stage & its a shame that we dont have enough rounds to see him grow

hong sungmin: talented but i cant get into him. his rapping tone was kind of unpleasant in r1 & even though i know he's better than that it kinda ruined things for me

congb: i like him but i think a different group would work for him. i think he & daeul would do better in kpop and i really dont think that's where this group is fully headed

xu shihuan: i know very little about him but if i couldnt have any of my picks in 9th I'd probably pick him, just image wise. saying this makes me miss ryou kaito.

yoojun: im enjoying him on this show but i dont know what to do with him. i think he's really coming off well but im not sure where he can go from here. can he act? become a streamer?? idkkk. he's too talented onstage but im not sure if this is enough for him to be successful

yang dongwha: still torn on him. i think the bullying scandal has hurt his main base & im not sure if he'll be able to overcome it. it's a shame though that the production clearly had a plan and it's not panning out. i wish they had recruited more people who fit their desired image

wang kun: i liked him more on asy, it's kind of a shame. you know who needed to be on this show? gemini. he would've been solid top 8 & that group would've been diverse & sooo iconic.

lingqi: talented but i can't get into him

sun jiayang: voted for him for storyline reasons but the bubble will probably pop this round

han jeongwoo: i like him but im not sure where he fits. with dongwha's fans kind of wavering i think he's the clearest replacement but they haven't given him as much of a storyline as i might have expected. i think his one pick is likely pretty low, yikes

other people im watching & thinking about: hikari, syo, & xinche.

voting list

this is my shaky voting list. hangyul & junhyuk are staying no matter what, but idk about zai and he xilong. i would be so happy if they made it but i also feel like there's no chance...we'll see after the interim i suppose

me voting for he xilong instead of dongwha or jeongwoo seems contradictory to my top 9 but here's why it's not! It's because [TRAIN PASSES] so that makes perfect sense, right?

voting hangyul for millionaire center. annoying that you can only vote one person per one position per day. i though i did it wrong at first because it looks like you should be able to fill all of the positions. it'd be nice if it was more like the difference between regular & vip votes, where everyone can fully vote once and vip just get extra votes.

this gets into structure a bit but because they've condensed the rounds voting is kinda...off. like normally you might expect 9-6-3-1 but theyre probably gonna do 9-4-1. if i could vote for 6. syo & pentor (worried he might drop) would probably round out my list.

thoughts on the show/ the show's structure

im torn about some things. i think its good that they're being a little more creative with the structure of the survival show, which hasn't changed much at all really from produce 101, but i think you run into some danger when you start taking things away instead of adding.

im in agreement with the masses on the first mini elimination- it was cruel and unnecessary, and cut some talent that would probably still be here today. but one review i saw brought up the point that it has probably had a more positive than negative impact on the show - people heard about it and were shocked, and ironically that made them more interested in watching the show and more dedicated to supporting the boys. and then this is my own addition, but eliminating that small number of trainees in the beginning allowed them to cut a whole round & save money (assuming that the original song round is one of the most expensive rounds in a typical survival show). so from a production stance, it was a net positive, even if it's not as fun for fans to watch.

while I've been following the show closely, im not actually watching at 100% like i usually do. i was looking forward to the original song round but now that it's just the finale...eh. im not expecting to be impressed by next round either. the only question is vocals and honestly this show doesnt have very many. they have a bunch of performers who happen to be solid singers or rappers, but few dedicated vocalists. while i dislike that in general, i think this group being a performance/dance group makes sense for some reason.

honestly my favorite non-performance content in survival shows will always be watching their dynamics in the practice room. so this sports day does absolutely nothing for me and there's a good chance i won't watch it. there's a reason why sports day content is usually interspersed with the elimination! it does not need it's own episode!! i think they could've come up with some other creative content to fill that space. if i think of something ill make another post (<- unlikely)

listened to millionaire and pretty dirty boy and uhm. millionaire is the better song but the choreo is soooo ridiculous it looks like that stupid frog dancing meme that popular when i was in like. high school or something 😭 and pretty dirty boy just isnt that good of a song idk. maybe ill change my mind about where hangyul is going. also its so annoying that project 7 made you vote for 35 people every single time but starlight boys wont let us do up to 18. both of them should let you leave blank spaces but you should def be able to vote for more than 1 person for starlight boys. i actually know people on this show!!

a lot of people seem to still think that this will be a kpop group & that what knetz think of the lineup will matter. can i ask why you think that? 🎤. this is qcyn4 i would be soooo surprised if the don't release anything in chinese/if they don't promote in china. there's not even a korean person challenging for center like 😭 it seems clear to me that hosting the show in korea was just a way to get around the survival show ban in china, lmfao. if anything, i think they could do an xg type thing where they sing in english, but i doubt that. i think the final group will be most like exo, with a foot in korea and i foot in china, but more firmly planted in china. HOWEVER. there's a horrible rumor that they'll be managed by podol and i just refuse to believe that iqiyi would waste a group like that. but with so many podol trainees it feels...probable. idk. even the hypothetical makes me want to vomit. #freebae173 #fantasyboys #freeclass:y #free anyone who has ever been associated with mbk.

in conclusion im sad about them condensing the rounds. i dont think itll be damning but i also hope they dont do it again.

[kisaraslover]

Do you think Kisara has any hobbies besides sitting in Kaiba's lap?

Well i like to look at established Kisara to draw out more traits so first things first is the dragonic nature. I think Kisara deeply enjoys nature and solitude and sitting in the sun. I dont mean this like camping either, from ancient Egypt we see Kisara already has unusual resistance to exposure to elements, with something godly in her veins so i think she might be really zen watching birds to flowers to the sky and basking her place in all this. We all have a passing moments of "everything IS everywhere all at once, all is one, one is all" but i think it would be a constant presence in her. she swings between "oblivious to life weird ass woman" and "enlightened higher being" VIOLENTLY. Meditating would be grounding to her, in the opposite way to all other people meditating.

and then music. dragons are a kind of bird <3 dont look that up. i think Kisara has an uncanny aptness when it comes to music. one of those people who can pick up any instrument and play a simple tune on it. i dont think she has a remarkable singing voice at all though. embodies "people sing because they want to not because they are good at it" hums gently music she likes. if she tries to seriously sing along to a difficult song her voice cracks loserly. she laughs and continues yknow? its still Seto's favorite and if he catches sound of her humming before entering a room, he waits outside to listen for a couple secs. its his secret no one needs to know shhhh. ALSO the fic Paper Roses has piano player Kisara and the romance is served so well by Kisara giggling while placing Seto's hands on the right keys so.

making things with your hand is a very grounding practice for anyone struggling to stay in the moment and stay present and i just cant move past these very artistic but expensive looking hobbies from youtube shorts -tries not to cry about capitalism locking the public out of arts- so after getting that Kaiba Money she'd just go "i always wanted to try glass art btw" and seto goes "?????. thats. alright ok. go for it"

im really conflicted on many "hobbies" and what makes them hobbies but if we work with the basis "how you spend your day is how you spend your life" i think she'd really be the least online person. the activies above WOULD be very frequent but i think Kisara spends her most days, ironically enough, socializing. she'd be talking to employees (important business) or talking to employees (just chatting lol) out with friends of all kinds and trades, Mokuba and his friends or Seto and HIS friends, or most surreal one, Seto and HER friends. shes the kind of awkward person who listens more than they speak, with her own charms and difficulties, thankfully when you try enough you can find people you can get along with. very endearing on the line of strange, bringing out peoples protective sides which is why she would gather Mom Friends and Bossy Bitches and Protective Eldest Siblings faster than you can say her name. while i characterize both Kisara and Seto as kind of introverted, i think Kisara would be charged with a thirst to know and understand humanity (both result of godly roots and alienated youth) so if her luck turned around after meeting Seto i think she'd build quite the social circle, not even realizing how many people shes getting close to at first. Seto's socializing would be more acknowledging part of healing means creating support systems, opening up to people -to whatever extent he can- surrounding himself with people who he cares about and who care about him in return, and definitely less easier than her collecting friends.

SO YEAH! sorry for the LONG ASS reply, i think Kisara is adopted by many Extroverts and on the time off she goes into her workshop does fuck all (DEF made a wooden dildo to see Seto's reaction. mokuba laughed his ass off thinking it would perplex him. he took one look at it and said its a pathetic cock and he could nude model for her. no ones laughing now.....)

[1tsjusty0u]

hm. horse names. does link do much with horses + what did he name any horses he has + any personalities? also what is zelda's horse named

hrose…

hm!! id say he travels a bit with horses, its how he got to kakariko hateno and such. as time goes on he uses them less because they cant climb mountains well and he doesnt want to leave them in case monsters get to them/they wander off (despawn). also as time goes on he has fast travel so he doesnt have to use horses anymore which is kind of sad. he never uses the big horse even when he catches them

for names i like to think hes bad at naming things (shaking his hand) so you end up with names like twig or signpost. for his actual horses though id say he has all 5 slots; his first and main horse is Bug, shes probably gentle temperament because thats the type of horses that dont buck you off if you dont press L fast enough. he got zeldas ancestral horse and the big horse, zeldas horse having Saff as a placeholder name (safula reference), once zelda is freed though she names them Saffron + theyre now her horse. she keeps them. for the big horse, on one hand din is a fitting name, however thats kind of like naming your cat after a god that you believe in (like jesus.) it sort of works for greek gods and such but i dont think link would actually do that so. yeag. speaking of which while looking up where eponas name comes from possibly epona is actually the name of a celtic patron goddess for foals and horses so. snorts. ANYWAYS i think a kid would name the horse instead of link, and as such their name is Dinners. both in reference to din but also “how hungry” horse. for the other two horses, one would be once he finds out wild temperament horses have better stats (though how he finds this out is questionable, considering i dont think the horse facts guy mentions it + how i found out was from a croton video </3. pre calamity he probably found out by testing and researching/reading, so post cal is either a remnant from that or the horse facts guy Does tell him and we can ignore its not actually said in the base game 👍), and one is from just. not having a horse somewhere and temporarily taming it, however they follow him when hes not riding them and they go so far he just kind of. registers them. wild horse is named Clover and the following horse is named Jerry

personality wise Saffron is a bit what youd expect (stubborn and EXTREMELY UNHAPPY to be ridden as a horse.) he warms up eventually but sometimes he still just veers off the road/turns around at max bond just to be petty/prank them. that one horse post about horses adjusting to the people riding them and making their Own decisions when driving (biting off saddles i think? something about weight…), saff would do something like that. otherwise though number 1 rated grass eater and plant stomper, would be a pain for the stable owners and will pick fights with dogs. while he accepts being a transportation animal eventually he Will Not move cargo. that is his one rule, you will Not put on a wagon attached to his saddle he will make so many horse noises about it. Dinners is less stubborn and more blood thirsty. she Will run over herons without input from link. running over bokoblins is her favorite past time. however she also is a huge horse fan in general, especially with the little horses she can be found with. she doesnt really pick fights but she does bite sometimes. not out of malice but curiosity. or sometimes just because she can. get bit nerd. she actually likes having cargo it becomes a challenge to go as fast as possible without dropping it (which leads to stress inducing situations sometimes). otherwise she just chills mostly. would probably sleep in a weird position. she would run over donkeys if she could. Bug is just friendly. a chronic wander, but friendly! because she wanders if link isnt really telling them to go anywhere they just move on their own like minecraft horses. and because of this link cant leave them anywhere because theyll be on a completely different part of the map then where he left them. huge fan of flowers for food and also apples. to be fair all horses are but she gets the most apples out of all of links horses (favoritism). would probably eat a bee hive/wasp nest (fun fact!! beehives in botw are actually really similar to wasp nests rather than actual beehives!!). theyre indifferent to cargo. Clover is Fast. a bit less spurs but they are So Fast. constantly picking things up no matter what they are/the cons of quences. they are The cargo horse. like the name implies they like to eat clovers, and they also have like. grass in their mouth constantly like a cowperson. they would absolutely herd animals. big fan of ruins honestly they just smell weird. every time theres a split in the road they always go the opposite direction of what link needs and he has to steer them the other way around. would crash into trees quite a bit. also energetic constantly they Need to be doing something always. also yes this horse is a reference to clover undertale yellow. and finally Jerry. just a horse, no thoughts head empty. completely chill. stands there as link gets mauled by a moblin

pre calamity zeldas horse was named Selig (and named for her rather than by her considering the compendium entry states that the royal family rode them to display their “divine right”, so its less likely itd be named for fun and more named to be Official and OoOo Goddess Powers, so i like to think a priest named them), but in secret she named them Lilium Woodriff Orientalis (the scientific name for stargazer lillies, Woodriff being the last name of the person who bred them. this is a reference to silent princesses and Blue Heart Lillies- blue heart lillies often being cited as a real world counterpart to silent princesses, however those lillies actually dont exist. theyre always a scam and are actually photoshop recolored stargazer lilly. in universe explanation is that its just a scientific flower name she liked a lot and she wanted to seem cool for knowing it. post calamity she’d call them stargazer even though the horse is long gone. maybe she’d name another horse that in memory?) and uses their full name always instead of a nickname. and because of this she eventually forgets selig as a name and everyone either thinks its a new horse or is cool with it. the priest is kind of exasperated but cant do anything about it. links pre calamity horse is named Epona because im a sucker for that sort of stuff, however is not The Epona (like from the amiibo or oot or tp etc). its more of a name he liked a lot especially because of the epona legends (and also in the memories his horse has a different mane/coat color from epona herself so. yeag). he too wanted to be seen as cool. he’d use her like how merchants use donkeys . light storage system

also fun fact!! the stable has a corporation of sorts!! 50 years before the calamity the Epona Co. was established (creating a champion page with stable info), and it has a logo and everything. said logo is on the hats of stable workers and also on the blankets covering crates. the stable association is under that corporation but seemingly a different thing, and also on the sanidin park ruins you can actually see the logo on the base of the statue, so they had a part in that as well!! i dunno i just think its so neat and im so sad we dont know anything about the park ruins besides being a spot to view the castle. i like to think its a memorial to a horse (whether it be someones pet horse, or a horse who did something historical (like laika or balto, though laika and balto are dogs not horses), and also im not making this an epona statue i. it feels weird to clarify that however with all the epona talk . yeah. also off topic but epona and ganons horse being plushes in majoras mask is so cool and i really want ganondorfs horse to have a name now. like why dont they have one…). alsoalso you probably know this but the top of stables (horse heads) have malanyas face, implying its an effigy of sorts. alsoalsoalso theres an unused compendium photo for epona.

theres also more horse variants (knight horses and festival horses) but. another time.