#so i just statted hissing at him again.

[cringelordofchaos]

I think someone from school just called me autistic

[gothcsz]

Wandering Hands | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~1.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javi can't keep his hands off you during a dinner with some friends.

Tags: public fingering, pussy pronouns, javi being a menace at dinner, lil bit dirty talk, no use of y/n, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: i got this prompt in my ask and i had to do something with it, obvi, because i think we're all obsessed with javi's hands right? mmm, so big and strong and i def need to feel them all over my body STAT! enjoy this lil bit of filth my pretties 🖤

“Stop,” you mutter under your breath, carrying just enough weight for him to hear.

It doesn’t matter, though—Javier never listens when it comes to this. His hand is already settled high on your thigh, large and warm, his fingers teasingly close to the damp heat of your panties.

The pad of his thumb drags lazily over your stockings, grazing the delicate lace edge, making your pulse race.

He doesn’t bother responding—of course he doesn’t. That maddening smirk spreads across his face instead, the dimple in his cheek deepening as he nods at something the man across the table is saying.

His expression is cool, composed, even charming. The contrast to what he’s doing beneath the table has your head spinning.

You shift subtly, attempting to press your knees together, but he’s quicker, his fingers digging in just enough to warn you.

A sharp press of blunt nails against the softness of your thigh nearly makes you gasp. “Don’t,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush against your ear before he picks up his drink and takes a leisurely sip. “Keep them open.”

“Now’s not the time, Javi,” you hiss, your voice strained as you try to keep your composure.

Around you, laughter and idle chatter fill the air, everyone engrossed in their own conversations. No one suspects a thing, yet the way his fingers start to press firmly along your inner thigh makes it harder to focus.

Ignoring your weak protests, he slides two fingers over the damp seam of your panties, applying just enough pressure to make you suck in a sharp breath.

His touch is deliberate, slow strokes that rub against your aching pussy in a way that has your thighs trembling.

Arousal pools feverishly in your sex, and you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.

It’s fucking maddening—too much and not enough all at once. Your horniness is undeniable now, the fabric of your panties clinging to your slick folds. 

The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing, teasing you with each measured motion, dragging his fingers just slightly faster, testing your restraint.

You cough, desperate to cover up the soft sound that escapes you when his thumb presses firmly against your clit, circling with infuriating precision. The woman beside you turns, her brow arching in mild concern. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice hitching as his fingers rub a little harder, threatening to pull you under. “Just... just a scratch.”

Her attention lingers for a moment too long, and Javier seizes the opportunity, dragging his fingers down the soaked fabric, pressing them right against your entrance. The sudden pressure makes your thighs jerk apart involuntarily, and your breath catches.

“Oh,” you choke out, forcing a laugh as you wave a hand dismissively. “Scratch in my throat. I’m fine.”

The fakest smile you’ve ever worn stretches across your lips, and it must be convincing enough because she nods and turns away.

The second she’s distracted, Javier’s hand shifts again, this time slipping under the lace edge of your panties. His bare fingers glide over your wet and sticky cunt, and you bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, so low only you can hear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

The slow, teasing circles he draws against your clit send waves of pleasure rippling through you, leaving you squirming helplessly yet as subtly as you can in your seat, praying no one notices just how thoroughly he’s unraveling you.

Your hand moves to join his beneath the table, fingers trembling as they wrap around his wrist.

The tablecloth mercifully drapes low enough to shield the debauchery unfolding underneath, but the tension in your grip betrays your desperation.

You try to stop him, to regain some semblance of control, but his strength and determination make your effort laughable.

“Javi…” you plead softly, the syllables tinged with both frustration and need.

“What?” he murmurs teasingly, his lips quirking into that devilish grin that makes your knees weak. “I thought you said you could handle it.”

Ah, there it is. The challenge. A reminder of the words you whispered to him in bed just days ago, about wanting to push boundaries, to explore your limits. 

It’s not that you aren’t enjoying it—god knows you crave the way his hands roam your body, whether they’re gripping your ass, teasing your tits, or spreading you open while he fucks you senseless until your mind goes blissfully blank.

No, the problem isn’t him. It’s the setting.

You just don’t want to risk giving the entire room a front-row seat to your undoing.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“I can,” you reply weakly, though even you don’t believe it, not with the way your voice wavers. “Just… not he—oh.”

“Not here?” he repeats, his voice a low hum, pitched just for you. He plays with the sensitive flesh of your labia, playing with your pussy as if you were in the privacy of your own home. 

The room around you fades into background noise—piano notes mingling with the hum of voices, all of it inconsequential compared to the soft obscene sound of his fingers slick against your arousal.

He gathers it on his fingertips, spreading it over your swollen folds, and you bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he breathes into your ear, curved nose skimming against your cheek, his voice dripping with satisfaction. The warmth of his breath against your skin sends a shiver racing down your spine. “Gonna be so hard to keep her quiet.”

To anyone watching, it must look like a simple, affectionate moment—him leaning close to murmur something sweet. But there’s nothing innocent about the way his fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance before sinking in.

You can barely breathe, your chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven gasps as he curls his fingers inside you. The stretch is delicious, every movement sending sparks through you.

His thumb finds your clit, pressing against the swollen nub with maddening precision, and you have to grip the edge of the table to keep yourself grounded.

“Baby,” you whimper, your voice so soft it’s almost swallowed by the din of the dining room as you reach up to clutch at his bicep. Your hips move of their own accord, rocking subtly against his hand, seeking more. “I’m close.”

His brown eyes meet yours, dark and glittering with lust. “Entonces dámelo,” (Then give it to me)  he rasps, his voice a low, seductive command.

He curls his fingers just right, dragging them along that perfect spot inside you while his thumb flicks rapidly over your clit.

It’s overwhelming, the buildup sharp and blindingly intense. It crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling, eyes watering, as your release erupts like fucking fireworks.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers, your body shuddering with aftershocks as you struggle to keep from crying out.

You bite down on your lip so hard you taste copper, your thighs twitching uncontrollably as you ride out the pleasure.

Javier’s grin is downright sinful as he watches you fall apart. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, glistening with evidence of your release. “Damn shame I can’t shove these in your mouth right now,” he murmurs, his voice thick with mock regret. “Make you taste what a mess you made.”

He wipes his fingers on your ruined panties, then gives your thigh one final squeeze before resting his hand there possessively.

The smirk on his face as he returns to his conversation is pure arrogance, and you know he’s fully aware of the way your cheeks burn and your body still buzzes in the aftermath.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

Character Choice: Leviathan x Fem! Reader

Stats: nsfw/ minors dni, jealous/ possessive! levi, cream pies, monster/tail fucking, mean dom! levi, levi with two cocks, degradation/ name calling, marking, double penetration, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), hint of/ alllusion to exhibitionism towards the end

Profile: It’s not fair! Why do his stupid brothers get to hog your attention all the time? He’ll make sure you’ll pay attention to him and only him. You’re not leaving his room for quite a while; there’s lots of fun stuff Levi wants to try with you. And when you do limp out of his room, his brothers will certainly get the message.

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

obey me masterlist || sfw version

You had been playing video games with Levi for a while now, comfortably sitting in his lap with his chin resting on your head. And so far, everything had been super relaxed. That was until the credits rolled and Levi’s focus started to drift from the screen to you, inhaling the comforting scent of your hair products.

Just for the stench of his brothers to fill his nostrils, clinging to you just as stubbornly as the actual demons. It made him livid, imagining Asmo hanging off your arm, Satan holding you close as he read to you or Belphie using your lap as his personal napping spot. You should be spending time with him! 

Before he knew it, pure jealousy was coursing through his veins and his form shifted. Coral-like horns perched on his head like a crown as a scaled tail wrapped around your ankle, slowly winding upwards. His hands, which had held the controller up until now, gripped your hips tightly as he tried to control his breathing.

You’d felt Levi’s envy often enough through the pact linking you two together. Whether it was losing the bid on a figurine he wanted or seeing someone else with the character he tried to get, the feeling wasn’t new to you. But this time, the sensation was overwhelming, his pact mark on your body searing with his jealousy. Normally, you could console him easily enough but right now you weren’t so sure. 

��Levi? Levi are you alright? What’s wrong?” you questioned, one hand coming up to thread into his purple locks as you tried to shift so you could face him. Only to be stopped by his iron grip. You could, however, get a glimpse of his orange-flashing eyes, pupils merely slits. “Levi, I’m worried-”

“Oh, now you care?” His tone was cold and sent shivers down your spine, rare determination falling from every word. “What’s wrong, you ask? Maybe it’s the fact that you’re always so busy cosying up to all my brothers. Even that scumbag gets more of your attention than I do.”

Levi knew deep inside that wasn’t true. You always spent plenty of time with him. Then, Lucifer’s cologne tickled his nose and he lost all sense of rationality, thoughts only fueled by his sin. When he spoke again, his words were like pure venom dripping from his fangs. “Did you have fun? Letting them get their grimey hands all over you?”

“No, Levi, I-” You interrupted yourself with a sudden gasp as sharp teeth sank into the column of your neck, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to leave a nasty, very visible mark. Still, you couldn’t help but grind yourself back on him, feeling his prominent bulge against your ass. You almost drooled at the inhuman size of him, mind wandering to how good he’d stretch you open on that.

“Enjoying yourself?” He hissed while pressing you down harder, rubbing himself against your clothed pussy. Searching for something to ground yourself with, you reached back and dug your fingers into his hair as you rolled your head back to give Levi more access to your neck. “Look at you, you’re actually getting off to this. You’re so easy, no wonder demons like you so much.”

Much to your embarrassment, you could feel the arousal staining your panties at his harsh words. There was no use denying it, this side of your usually timid Levi was heavily turning you on, so much so that you could feel yourself pulsing against the straining material of his sweats. Somehow, that realisation just made you squirm against him more, searching desperately for any sort of friction.

It came in the form of his tail flicking forcefully against your core, not enough to seriously hurt you but definitely hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. Levi took advantage of your moan to tip your head back and shove his forked tongue down your throat. At the same time, his clawed hands roughly groped your breasts over your RAD dress shirt, certainly leaving red marks for you to find later. Apparently that wasn’t enough for the demon though, carelessly ripping the material apart and making buttons roll over the floor of his room.

Your bra was next. Although he didn’t destroy it, he merely pulled it down enough to where your breasts could spill over the cups, further driving home the point that this wasn’t about you. This was only for him and his pleasure.

As his fingers meanly pulled at your nipples, tweaking the little buds and rolling them between his digits, his tail had stopped prodding at your slit and instead slithered under the waistband of your bottoms. With it pressed against your body like that, it really had no option but to rub over your clit as it reached for your undergarments.

Just when you thought Levi would really have you ruin your clothes, he pushed them off your legs to give his tail free reign to work. As the appendage curled around the seat of your panties to pull them off as well, it grazed your folds and you lightly jerked in your demon’s hold. 

Said demon had gone back to biting and licking at your neck, his eyes following the string of arousal sticking to your underwear with rapt attention. The fact that he could reduce you to this state so easily was definitely an ego boost but he was nowhere near satiated with just this.

“I think it’s time I remind you who you really belong to,” he snarled, voice bitter as he could still smell them on you. “Once I’m done with you, nobody will ever forget it again.”

Without so much as a warning, Levi plunged the end of his tail into your soaked core, earning something between a shriek and a moan from you. The initial clamp down of your walls around his scales drew a shaky groan from him in return, squeezing your tits harder in his palms.

His tail was curling and uncurling inside of you in unreadable patterns as he stretched you out gradually. The texture of his cold scales was something you never grew used to as they scraped against your warm walls, the tip effortlessly hitting spots you never knew you had.

In record time, Levi had you writhing and squirming in his lap and he chose to make it worse by slipping one hand down your front to ruthlessly tap your pulsing clit. The noises you made drove him nearly insane with lust but he willed himself to patience, as far as that was still possible.

“That’s it, you’re gonna cum,” he all but ordered, fingers and tail pressing down on the same spot on opposite sides of your walls. “And your orgasm is gonna be all mine, you got that?”

“Yes, Levi,” you whined, eyes screwed shut and fingers tightening around his wrist and his purple locks.

“Then do it,” he spoke directly against your ear. 

You straightened in his hold as lightning shot up your spine, the thicker part of his tail keeping your legs nicely spread while he flicked his fingers harsher against your clit. 

Then, your bones turned to pudding as you weightlessly leaned back against Levi’s clothed chest, feeling your release leak around his tail. You tried to control your breathing with little success. A hand swept sweat matted hair out of your eyes while a second one ran up and down your side to provide a familiar comfort.

But soon, your world shifted as you fell forward, your fall only cushioned by a hand on your chest before your cheek met one of Levi’s many pillows, which had previously not laid there. Behind you, the demon rose to his knees as well, his thighs colliding with your ass. 

You whined as the movements of his tail started again, much slower than before though. He shushed you almost gently, yet when you pushed yourself up on weak arms to look back at him, one hand firmly pressed your upper back onto the floor again.

���Be good and behave.” Levi’s cold voice made you shiver in the best way possible and this time he could feel the way you clamped down on him at his command. “Seriously, I thought between us I was the perv but seeing you let me use you like this without any resistance makes me question that.”

There was rustling of clothes to be heard and you almost protested the withdrawal of his tail but the pressure of his pre cum leaking cocks against you shut you right up. No matter how often you two got frisky, you wondered every time how they were supposed to fit.

As much as Levi wanted to see you choke on his cock while attempting to wrap your hand around the other, he was far too impatient. He needed to stretch you open now.

Aligning the head of his upper dick, he heaved a sigh before pushing in. Just feeling your heat around the tip made him lightheaded but before he could get carried away, he remembered why you two were in this position in the first place. 

In one single thrust, the demon filled you to the brim, knocking all air from your lungs as you were shoved into the pillow. Despite having two members to work with, taking just one was still quite the challenge. It hurt but at the same time it felt so good.

With his demeanour that night, you thought he’d set a ruthless pace from the start but he surprised you with tempered and measured thrusts, aiming for depth rather than speed. Your shoulders tensed up when you felt his tail return, this time however circling your other hole.

“Levi-“ 

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this, I can feel that messy cunt of yours gripping me even tighter.” And he was right. Just the imagination of Levi using his tail, which was still coated in your previous release, to prepare you for what was inevitably to come had you bounce your hips back on him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re supposed to be my master, yet you’re acting more like a bitch in heat, already going dumb on my cock.”

Apparently now it was time for your bra to leave the scene completely as Levi fumbled with the clasp for a second before carelessly throwing it somewhere into his room. 

The fact that he was still fully clothed whereas you were completely nude made you feel excitingly exposed, fire burning through your body at the thought of Levi just having your way with you like this.

It should have been embarrassing how your pussy squelched with his cock inside, how fast you were approaching another orgasm, but with Levi leaning more of his weight onto you as he seemed to reach deeper in both your cunt and ass, you were more concerned with trying to sustain your lungs with enough air.

Well, it wasn’t like you had to tell him you were close anyway. The way it got harder to move in and out or the way your legs started trembling gave you away. With his cocks hitting your g-spot and clit on every forward motion as your walls were sandwiched on both sides between him, it was clear you’d reach your peak sooner rather than later.

Your high pitched moans echoed around the room and Levi’s guttoral groans soon joined as he starved off his own release to fuck you through yours. At this point, your vision turned hazy but you couldn’t help but want more. And more you should get.

Through the fog of your mind, you barely registered the moment of emptiness and Levi’s biting words were drowned out by your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears. What you did notice was the sensation of two cocks stuffing you to your limit, both heads throbbing with a desperate need to just stuff you full of his cum.

The view of you on your elbows and knees, back arched and fingers a death grip on his pillow rushed directly to his head and to his dicks. He was the one who had reduced to such a pathetically fucked out state, unable to speak any coherent sentences. Not his brothers.

“Do you just whore yourself out to everyone?” Sharp claws were dancing up your spine, the layer of sweat reflecting the blue light of his room. The thought of his brothers getting just a glimpse of you like this made his earlier rage flare up again.

“N-No,” you whimpered meekly.

“No? Just the demons you know?” His still clothed chest met your back as his hands held your hips in an iron grip, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. His fangs were grazing your skin again, searching for a new spot to leave his mark on. “If Mammon were here, would you let him fuck this messy cunt of yours, hm? Would you gag on Belphie’s cock like a slut, yeah? Let him push your head down as he pleases?”

You didn’t answer this time, not that he really expected you to. Normally, Levi might have intertwined your fingers or pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. But not on this day. 

“C’mon, you can be louder than that, slut.” Purple coloured nails tangled in your hair and pulled your head up. “Let everyone in this house who’s fucking you this good.”

Nothing he had to tell you twice. You felt so full, every sensitive spot you could think of and all those you didn’t know you had were being abused over and over again. 

What had you screaming and scrambling for purchase was the pain of his fangs piercing the skin of your shoulder as his tail wrapped around your middle, the tip resting dangerously close to your sensitive clit after dragging through the slick mess staining your thighs.

“You’re close again, right?” That was when his tail started circling your pulsing nub and your eyes flew open as the knot in your stomach started pulling you into opposite directions once more. “That’s right, you're just a little toy for me to use, aren’t you? Just an obedient cocksleeve waiting to get stuffed.”

To emphasise his point, your expression was reflected back to you on one of his shiny consoles, eyes fluttering open and shut as your tongue lolled out and drool dripped from your lips, head still pulled back.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Levi cursed out of breath, cocks twitching against your walls as the slapping of skin picked up in speed. Letting your head fall forward again, both hands gripped your hips tightly, nails nicking your skin.

“I’m so close, please I can’t—“ You couldn’t decide if you were begging to cum or to rest.

Your demon made the choice for you. He drew quicker circles on your abused clit, pressing his scales down harsher, which had your toes curling and your hips trying to wind away from the assault. 

“Stop squirming!” Pulling your hips back to meet his strokes, you weren’t sure if Levi was trying to make you cum again or if he was just selfishly chasing his own release with all means possible. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’ll be a good human and not waste a drop. Once we’re done, you’ll only smell like me!”

Mindlessly nodding your head, you fell over the edge with a scream of his name, shuddering and jerking as his pace didn’t slow at all. Maybe it was because you were so out of it but you could swear you could feel his cocks swell before his hips stuttered and he painted your walls white with a throaty groan.

There was no chance you could ever keep all of his cum inside, no matter how deep he shot it. You were pretty sure no human could ever cum this much. 

For a few minutes there was nothing but panting to be heard before he finally pulled out, the bite marks on your shoulders pulsing as the adrenaline wore off. Levi stared as his cum leaked out of you and ran down your trembling thighs, collecting the drops with the tip of his tail before pushing them back into you. You moaned weakly at the clench of your overstimulated walls around the appendage but just as you were wondering whether you could handle another round, the chime of your phones echoed through Levi’s room.

Satan @ House of Lamentation (New): Dinner in 5, get down here

Just as you were about to push yourself up on shaky arms, Levi’s hand on your upper back kept your chest on the floor.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time, we need to get cleaned up,” you protested.

Without a word, Levi wrangled your ankles into your panties again and slid them back up your thighs. Snapping the waistband, he gave your clothed cunt a final slap and innerly gloated at the way your combined release was soaking the already ruined fabric.

With widened eyes, you looked back over your shoulder to see if he was serious only to find him staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes, daring you to challenge him.

“I told you, I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

[ataliagold]

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C: 2012

Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington has dyscalculia, Steve Harrington has self esteem issues, Steve Harrington needs a hug, fluff, light angst, DnD, Mike and Dustin are a little mean here

Notes: Just slowly posting some of my AO3 stuff here as well :) Title from Rattlesnake by Jack Van Cleaf.

___

Steve joining in on Eddie’s campaign was supposed to be a nice surprise for his boyfriend.

And it was; Eddie’s face had lit up with joy when Steve had walked in and sat down with the kids around the table. Steve had taken the dice Dustin had loaned him and lined them up in front of him, from the D4 (the funny triangle one) up to the D20 (the one with heaps of sides, Steve reminded himself.)

If he kept them in that order it would help him pick the right dice quickly, he’d decided.

Because he wanted this to go to perfectly.

Eddie had been asking him to join in on a game for months, but Steve had so far refused, only coming along sometimes to watch quietly. There were parts of it that piqued his interest – namely the combat and the creatures Eddie planted into the game, because some of them were so damn cool even if Steve wouldn’t readily admit it out loud. A small part of him, a much younger part that had loved fairy tales and stories about knights and dragons and sword fights before his father had confiscated those books, deeming them too childish, watched with a quiet giddiness as the kids battled all manner of beasts.

But much of the game was so complicated - there were so many numbers, and Steve had no idea how Eddie and the kids managed to keep track of everything, how they added dice values together so damn quickly and kept track of a seemingly endless list of stats and bonuses and modifiers, whatever the hell they were.

Eddie knew about his difficulty with numbers. He’d seen the way Steve had to count with his fingers, how it took him far too fucking long to do a simple equation, how he stood in Melvald’s staring at the price of something just trying to make the numbers make sense so they wouldn’t blow their grocery budget.

And Eddie was patient, always. But D&D was Eddie’s realm, his place to shine, and Steve was so worried about holding him back and ruining the game every time he had to pause to add two fucking dice together.

Finally, he’d caved. Secretly, with Dustin’s help, he’d put a character sheet together. He’d made a paladin because Dustin had told him it suited him. Steve made him strong and lawful good, just like the knights he used to read about as a little boy. Dustin had rolled his eyes a little at that but Steve had been quite proud of what he’d put together.

Plus, Dustin had promised to help him with the math.

But here Steve was, well over an hour into the campaign, and he was struggling.

Cheeks burning, he turned to Dustin yet again.

“Wait, which one am I rolling?” he whispered.

Dustin rolled his eyes. The kid had been patient at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.

Steve was beginning to wear thin.

“The D10, Steve,” Dustin hissed.

“Right,” Steve nodded, grabbing for one of the dice.

“That’s the D8, Steve,” Mike said wearily.

Steve’s cheeks flushed even hotter, and he grabbed the other dice, rolling it quickly.

“Ahhh...seven,” Steve announced.

“You slash at the goblin, your blade cutting deep into its chest, the creature gurgling and reeling backwards…” Eddie leant over the table, giving a dramatic recount of events.

Steve smiled, unable to help it. His boyfriend was having such a good time, and even if Steve wasn’t enjoying himself so much, well, that was ok. He could do this, for Eddie.

“…but it scrabbles back to its feet, weak but alive,” Eddie finishes.

Mike groaned and slapped the table.

“It has to be almost dead,” Lucas announced.

“Yeah, but there’s still four others,” Mike pointed out.

“This one must be on two hit points or less,” Will surmised.

How did he know that? Steve frowned, let the kids talk amongst themselves. His gaze wandered over to Eddie, watching him lean back in his chair, eyes shining. He shot a wink at Steve when he caught him looking, then frowned a little, obviously noticing Steve wasn’t looking all that comfortable.

You ok? He mouthed at him.

Steve nodded quickly.

But he felt small.

Grow the fuck up, you’re fine.

“…Steve!” Mike groaned.

Steve’s attention snapped back to the kids. “What?”

“Stop staring at Eddie and tell us how many hit points you’ve got left.”

“Um…” Steve glanced down at the piece of paper in front of him. He’d scribbled some numbers down like Dustin had told him to every time his character had taken damage, but there were a lot of numbers there and he wasn’t sure they all actually related to his hit points…

“Give it here,” Dustin snatched the paper from him impatiently, peering down at it.

Steve waited while Dustin assessed his work, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of being back in school, his teachers reading over his work with a disappointed shake of their heads.

“This can’t be right, Steve,” Dustin sighed. “It says you’re on twelve hit points…is that a twelve? Your writing’s messy.”

Steve nodded. “Yours isn’t much better, pea-brain,” he mumbled, just to shoot something back at the kid.

Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. “You must have less than that because of the damage you took in the last round. You’re probably down to…eight at the most, by now.”

“Just make it eight, then,” Steve grumbled.

“Eight it is, big boy,” Eddie agreed.

“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Mike huffed. “You actually have to keep track of this stuff Steve, there’s no point playing if you just make the numbers up.”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Will tried to intervene quietly. “It can just be eight.”

Dustin picked up his pencil, drawing some columns on Steve’s paper. “Ok, so just use this one column to keep track of damage, don’t write all over the page. There’s your total hit points at the top, and every time you take damage, write it down under there, ok? And then just take it off the total. Simple.”

Like it was that fucking easy. Maybe for them, it was. They didn’t get every number mixed up in their brain, they didn’t stare at a single digit trying to put some numeric value behind it and coming up with zilch.

Dustin was trying to help, Steve knew. But his tone of voice was so fucking condescending that it had Steve squirming in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him.

“Come sit by me, Stevie, I’ll help you keep track.” Eddie said gently.

“You’ll just go easy on him, and that’s not fair!” Mike whined.

“Can it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped at him.

“Just because he can’t do basic math.”

“Right, you get to roll with disadvantage now, just for that,” Eddie told him smugly.

Mike was retorting with something, but Steve didn’t hear it.

His pulse was thumping in his ears, his cheeks on fire. The years were stripped from him, the sensitive child he’d tucked away inside a long time ago forced to the surface.

“Look, just carry on without me,” Steve muttered, and stood up quick enough that his chair scraped on the floor.

“Steve -” Dustin started, but Steve was finished, striding towards the stairs and blinking back tears.

He wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids, not over a fucking game, not over something his boyfriend loved so much.

But they were coming faster than he could blink them back as he headed out of Mike’s stuffy basement and out to the driveway, the cold night air caressing his flushed face.

This was supposed to have been a treat for Eddie. It was supposed to be fun, and Steve had ruined the night by being fucking stupid.

A tear tracked down his cheek , Steve losing the battle against them. He’d just drive home, he decided. Steve had come straight from work that day, so Eddie had come separately in his van, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

And then they could finish their game in peace, without having to treat Steve like a five-year-old.

He was getting in the driver’s seat when Eddie ran to him, both hands reaching for him.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured softly.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, dragging his sleeve across his face, smudging the tears there.

“Why? The kids were being assholes, I’ve already yelled at them.”

Steve shook his head. “I was just slowing everyone down, they were getting frustrated, I get it.”

“No, sweetheart, they were being rude,” Eddie corrected him. “Especially Wheeler.” Eddie brushed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks, crouching down beside the open driver’s door. “I’ve told them to pull their heads in. Do you…do you want to come back inside?”

“Eds…” Steve leant into his hands a little. “I’m no good at it. I really wanted to try, for you, and I’m so sorry I ruined it, but there’s too many numbers and I can’t keep track of everything and it takes me so fucking long and it’s embarrassing because I can’t even keep up with a bunch of kids, and I just feel like I’m back at school again.”

Eddie cupped his cheeks again, tilting Steve’s head to look at him. “Hey. You haven’t ruined anything, they did. I’m so happy you came along tonight, because I know you did it for me. But look, D&D doesn’t have to be your thing -”

“But -”

“It doesn’t,” Eddie cut in. “Just like…your balls in laundry basket games aren’t mine. But I like hanging around while you and Wayne watch them, and I love how excited you get about it, and how you sit there with that fucking pretty smile…”

Steve huffed out a small laugh, and Eddie grabbed his wrist to press a kiss to the inside of it.

“But I don’t know what’s going on most of the time,” Eddie continued. “It makes you happy, and that’s enough for me. So, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play D&D just for me if it’s not something you enjoy. It’s more than enough that you listen to my ideas, that you help me write -”

“I don’t really,” Steve said quietly.

“You do! Or have you forgotten who came up with that fucking amazing twist with the elven prince?”

“I got it from a movie,” Steve argued.

“So? I didn’t think of it, and it had the little shrimps completely stumped.”

Steve managed a small smile. “I do like some of the stories,” he admitted quietly. “But I think…I just wanna go home, ok? You can carry on.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m gonna get them to pack up in there. I’ll drop them home, then follow you back, ok?”

“Steve?” came Dustin’s voice from behind Eddie, small and hesitant.

Steve quickly straightened up in his seat, wiping a hand across his face.

“Yeah, buddy?” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

“I’m…I’m sorry. That we weren’t more patient. It’s ok if you struggle with numbers, and we should’ve helped more.”

“It’s ok, Dusty,” Steve told him.

Eddie frowned, reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Dustin. “It isn’t ok,” he argued. “But it was nice of you to apologize.”

Dustin nodded. “If you want to try again sometime, I promise I’ll help more. I…I really liked having you play.”

“Thanks,” Steve managed.

“Tell Wheeler to start crafting his apology too,” Eddie said firmly, still cradling Steve’s hand in his own. “Otherwise he’s rolling with disadvantage for the whole next session.”

Dustin’s eyes widened a little before he nodded.

After packing up, the kids waited sheepishly by Eddie’s van. Eddie stayed crouched next to Steve a moment longer.

“Go home, get comfy on the couch, and pick out any movie you want to watch, ok?” Eddie murmured to him. “When I get home I’m gonna order us some pizza, and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, understand?”

Steve laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

___

[the-travelling-bitch]

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

Character Choice: Leviathan x Fem! Reader

Stats: jealous/ possessive! levi, cream pies, monster/tail fucking, mean dom! levi, levi with two cocks, degradation/ name calling, marking, double penetration, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), hint of/ alllusion to exhibitionism towards the end

Profile: It’s not fair! Why do his stupid brothers get to hog your attention all the time? He’ll make sure you’ll pay attention to him and only him. You’re not leaving his room for quite a while; there’s lots of fun stuff Levi wants to try with you. And when you do limp out of his room, his brothers will certainly get the message.

[sfw version]

You had been playing video games with Levi for a while now, comfortably sitting in his lap with his chin resting on your head. And so far, everything had been super relaxed. That was until the credits rolled and Levi’s focus started to drift from the screen to you, inhaling the comforting scent of your hair products.

Just for the stench of his brothers to fill his nostrils, clinging to you just as stubbornly as the actual demons. It made him livid, imagining Asmo hanging off your arm, Satan holding you close as he read to you or Belphie using your lap as his personal napping spot. You should be spending time with him! 

Before he knew it, pure jealousy was coursing through his veins and his form shifted. Coral-like horns perched on his head like a crown as a scaled tail wrapped around your ankle, slowly winding upwards. His hands, which had held the controller up until now, gripped your hips tightly as he tried to control his breathing.

You’d felt Levi’s envy often enough through the pact linking you two together. Whether it was losing the bid on a figurine he wanted or seeing someone else with the character he tried to get, the feeling wasn’t new to you. But this time, the sensation was overwhelming, his pact mark on your body searing with his jealousy. Normally, you could console him easily enough but right now you weren’t so sure. 

“Levi? Levi are you alright? What’s wrong?” you questioned, one hand coming up to thread into his purple locks as you tried to shift so you could face him. Only to be stopped by his iron grip. You could, however, get a glimpse of his orange-flashing eyes, pupils merely slits. “Levi, I’m worried-”

“Oh, now you care?” His tone was cold and sent shivers down your spine, rare determination falling from every word. “What’s wrong, you ask? Maybe it’s the fact that you’re always so busy cosying up to all my brothers. Even that scumbag gets more of your attention than I do.”

Levi knew deep inside that wasn’t true. You always spent plenty of time with him. Then, Lucifer’s cologne tickled his nose and he lost all sense of rationality, thoughts only fueled by his sin. When he spoke again, his words were like pure venom dripping from his fangs. “Did you have fun? Letting them get their grimey hands all over you?”

“No, Levi, I-” You interrupted yourself with a sudden gasp as sharp teeth sank into the column of your neck, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to leave a nasty, very visible mark. Still, you couldn’t help but grind yourself back on him, feeling his prominent bulge against your ass. You almost drooled at the inhuman size of him, mind wandering to how good he’d stretch you open on that.

“Enjoying yourself?” He hissed while pressing you down harder, rubbing himself against your clothed pussy. Searching for something to ground yourself with, you reached back and dug your fingers into his hair as you rolled your head back to give Levi more access to your neck. “Look at you, you’re actually getting off to this. You’re so easy, no wonder demons like you so much.”

Much to your embarrassment, you could feel the arousal staining your panties at his harsh words. There was no use denying it, this side of your usually timid Levi was heavily turning you on, so much so that you could feel yourself pulsing against the straining material of his sweats. Somehow, that realisation just made you squirm against him more, searching desperately for any sort of friction.

It came in the form of his tail flicking forcefully against your core, not enough to seriously hurt you but definitely hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. Levi took advantage of your moan to tip your head back and shove his forked tongue down your throat. At the same time, his clawed hands roughly groped your breasts over your RAD dress shirt, certainly leaving red marks for you to find later. Apparently that wasn’t enough for the demon though, carelessly ripping the material apart and making buttons roll over the floor of his room.

Your bra was next. Although he didn’t destroy it, he merely pulled it down enough to where your breasts could spill over the cups, further driving home the point that this wasn’t about you. This was only for him and his pleasure.

As his fingers meanly pulled at your nipples, tweaking the little buds and rolling them between his digits, his tail had stopped prodding at your slit and instead slithered under the waistband of your bottoms. With it pressed against your body like that, it really had no option but to rub over your clit as it reached for your undergarments.

Just when you thought Levi would really have you ruin your clothes, he pushed them off your legs to give his tail free reign to work. As the appendage curled around the seat of your panties to pull them off as well, it grazed your folds and you lightly jerked in your demon’s hold. 

Said demon had gone back to biting and licking at your neck, his eyes following the string of arousal sticking to your underwear with rapt attention. The fact that he could reduce you to this state so easily was definitely an ego boost but he was nowhere near satiated with just this.

“I think it’s time I remind you who you really belong to,” he snarled, voice bitter as he could still smell them on you. “Once I’m done with you, nobody will ever forget it again.”

Without so much as a warning, Levi plunged the end of his tail into your soaked core, earning something between a shriek and a moan from you. The initial clamp down of your walls around his scales drew a shaky groan from him in return, squeezing your tits harder in his palms.

His tail was curling and uncurling inside of you in unreadable patterns as he stretched you out gradually. The texture of his cold scales was something you never grew used to as they scraped against your warm walls, the tip effortlessly hitting spots you never knew you had.

In record time, Levi had you writhing and squirming in his lap and he chose to make it worse by slipping one hand down your front to ruthlessly tap your pulsing clit. The noises you made drove him nearly insane with lust but he willed himself to patience, as far as that was still possible.

“That’s it, you’re gonna cum,” he all but ordered, fingers and tail pressing down on the same spot on opposite sides of your walls. “And your orgasm is gonna be all mine, you got that?”

“Yes, Levi,” you whined, eyes screwed shut and fingers tightening around his wrist and his purple locks.

“Then do it,” he spoke directly against your ear. 

You straightened in his hold as lightning shot up your spine, the thicker part of his tail keeping your legs nicely spread while he flicked his fingers harsher against your clit. 

Then, your bones turned to pudding as you weightlessly leaned back against Levi’s clothed chest, feeling your release leak around his tail. You tried to control your breathing with little success. A hand swept sweat matted hair out of your eyes while a second one ran up and down your side to provide a familiar comfort.

But soon, your world shifted as you fell forward, your fall only cushioned by a hand on your chest before your cheek met one of Levi’s many pillows, which had previously not laid there. Behind you, the demon rose to his knees as well, his thighs colliding with your ass. 

You whined as the movements of his tail started again, much slower than before though. He shushed you almost gently, yet when you pushed yourself up on weak arms to look back at him, one hand firmly pressed your upper back onto the floor again.

“Be good and behave.” Levi’s cold voice made you shiver in the best way possible and this time he could feel the way you clamped down on him at his command. “Seriously, I thought between us I was the perv but seeing you let me use you like this without any resistance makes me question that.”

There was rustling of clothes to be heard and you almost protested the withdrawal of his tail but the pressure of his pre cum leaking cocks against you shut you right up. No matter how often you two got frisky, you wondered every time how they were supposed to fit.

As much as Levi wanted to see you choke on his cock while attempting to wrap your hand around the other, he was far too impatient. He needed to stretch you open now.

Aligning the head of his upper dick, he heaved a sigh before pushing in. Just feeling your heat around the tip made him lightheaded but before he could get carried away, he remembered why you two were in this position in the first place. 

In one single thrust, the demon filled you to the brim, knocking all air from your lungs as you were shoved into the pillow. Despite having two members to work with, taking just one was still quite the challenge. It hurt but at the same time it felt so good.

With his demeanour that night, you thought he’d set a ruthless pace from the start but he surprised you with tempered and measured thrusts, aiming for depth rather than speed. Your shoulders tensed up when you felt his tail return, this time however circling your other hole.

“Levi-“ 

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this, I can feel that messy cunt of yours gripping me even tighter.” And he was right. Just the imagination of Levi using his tail, which was still coated in your previous release, to prepare you for what was inevitably to come had you bounce your hips back on him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re supposed to be my master, yet you’re acting more like a bitch in heat, already going dumb on my cock.”

Apparently now it was time for your bra to leave the scene completely as Levi fumbled with the clasp for a second before carelessly throwing it somewhere into his room. 

The fact that he was still fully clothed whereas you were completely nude made you feel excitingly exposed, fire burning through your body at the thought of Levi just having your way with you like this.

It should have been embarrassing how your pussy squelched with his cock inside, how fast you were approaching another orgasm, but with Levi leaning more of his weight onto you as he seemed to reach deeper in both your cunt and ass, you were more concerned with trying to sustain your lungs with enough air.

Well, it wasn’t like you had to tell him you were close anyway. The way it got harder to move in and out or the way your legs started trembling gave you away. With his cocks hitting your g-spot and clit on every forward motion as your walls were sandwiched on both sides between him, it was clear you’d reach your peak sooner rather than later.

Your high pitched moans echoed around the room and Levi’s guttoral groans soon joined as he starved off his own release to fuck you through yours. At this point, your vision turned hazy but you couldn’t help but want more. And more you should get.

Through the fog of your mind, you barely registered the moment of emptiness and Levi’s biting words were drowned out by your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears. What you did notice was the sensation of two cocks stuffing you to your limit, both heads throbbing with a desperate need to just stuff you full of his cum.

The view of you on your elbows and knees, back arched and fingers a death grip on his pillow rushed directly to his head and to his dicks. He was the one who had reduced to such a pathetically fucked out state, unable to speak any coherent sentences. Not his brothers.

“Do you just whore yourself out to everyone?” Sharp claws were dancing up your spine, the layer of sweat reflecting the blue light of his room. The thought of his brothers getting just a glimpse of you like this made his earlier rage flare up again.

“N-No,” you whimpered meekly.

“No? Just the demons you know?” His still clothed chest met your back as his hands held your hips in an iron grip, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. His fangs were grazing your skin again, searching for a new spot to leave his mark on. “If Mammon were here, would you let him fuck this messy cunt of yours, hm? Would you gag on Belphie’s cock like a slut, yeah? Let him push your head down as he pleases?”

You didn’t answer this time, not that he really expected you to. Normally, Levi might have intertwined your fingers or pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. But not on this day. 

“C’mon, you can be louder than that, slut.” Purple coloured nails tangled in your hair and pulled your head up. “Let everyone in this house who’s fucking you this good.”

Nothing he had to tell you twice. You felt so full, every sensitive spot you could think of and all those you didn’t know you had were being abused over and over again. 

What had you screaming and scrambling for purchase was the pain of his fangs piercing the skin of your shoulder as his tail wrapped around your middle, the tip resting dangerously close to your sensitive clit after dragging through the slick mess staining your thighs.

“You’re close again, right?” That was when his tail started circling your pulsing nub and your eyes flew open as the knot in your stomach started pulling you into opposite directions once more. “That’s right, you're just a little toy for me to use, aren’t you? Just an obedient cocksleeve waiting to get stuffed.”

To emphasise his point, your expression was reflected back to you on one of his shiny consoles, eyes fluttering open and shut as your tongue lolled out and drool dripped from your lips, head still pulled back.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Levi cursed out of breath, cocks twitching against your walls as the slapping of skin picked up in speed. Letting your head fall forward again, both hands gripped your hips tightly, nails nicking your skin.

“I’m so close, please I can’t—“ You couldn’t decide if you were begging to cum or to rest.

Your demon made the choice for you. He drew quicker circles on your abused clit, pressing his scales down harsher, which had your toes curling and your hips trying to wind away from the assault. 

“Stop squirming!” Pulling your hips back to meet his strokes, you weren’t sure if Levi was trying to make you cum again or if he was just selfishly chasing his own release with all means possible. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’ll be a good human and not waste a drop. Once we’re done, you’ll only smell like me!”

Mindlessly nodding your head, you fell over the edge with a scream of his name, shuddering and jerking as his pace didn’t slow at all. Maybe it was because you were so out of it but you could swear you could feel his cocks swell before his hips stuttered and he painted your walls white with a throaty groan.

There was no chance you could ever keep all of his cum inside, no matter how deep he shot it. You were pretty sure no human could ever cum this much. 

For a few minutes there was nothing but panting to be heard before he finally pulled out, the bite marks on your shoulders pulsing as the adrenaline wore off. Levi stared as his cum leaked out of you and ran down your trembling thighs, collecting the drops with the tip of his tail before pushing them back into you. You moaned weakly at the clench of your overstimulated walls around the appendage but just as you were wondering whether you could handle another round, the chime of your phones echoed through Levi’s room.

Satan @ House of Lamentation (New): Dinner in 5, get down here

Just as you were about to push yourself up on shaky arms, Levi’s hand on your upper back kept your chest on the floor.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time, we need to get cleaned up,” you protested.

Without a word, Levi wrangled your ankles into your panties again and slid them back up your thighs. Snapping the waistband, he gave your clothed cunt a final slap and innerly gloated at the way your combined release was soaking the already ruined fabric.

With widened eyes, you looked back over your shoulder to see if he was serious only to find him staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes, daring you to challenge him.

“I told you, I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

if you want to be added to my tag list, send in an ask ♡

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch17

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15, Ch16

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, cockwarming, creampie, breeding kink

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

Everything felt like a daze. You had woken up sore, exhausted, weak and full. Your body felt strange, yet satisfied. Glancing at the time, you weren't even worried that you were late for work. It was Miguel's fault anyway.

"Mhm...Lyla," You whispered, your voice scratchy.

Rubbing your eyes, you whimpered as you needed water. Your voice hurt from all your moaning and crying from last night. Laying back on the bed, you snuggled into the blanket since you couldn't feel your legs.

"Miguel will return soon to tend to you." Lyla spoke, appearing before you.

Tend to you? Oh how sweet that sounded. Recalling the night, you groaned happily. Who would have thought Miguel had that side to him. A side that only you could see. It was almost animalistic. It truly felt like Miguel was trying to breed you.

"Mhm....Miggy."

--------

Miguel returned home early after a night of harassing the city. Taking his mask off, he let out a heavy sigh. This super-villain work was a lot more taxing than he thought. How you ever adapted to being a hero honestly impressed Miguel.

"Lyla, how is (Y/N)?" Miguel asked, making his way to the shower. Lyla appeared with a bright smile,

"She woke up a while ago, but fell back asleep. Her stats are still normal, but she is very low on energy."

"Order her favorite food. I'll wake her,"

Miguel took off his costume and hid it away. A soft chuckle escaping his throat as he thought of your reaction to this. If you ever did find out, then he would have to teach you a good lesson, but that was for another time.

Entering his room with a bottled water, Miguel took a moment to stare at your sleeping state. You looked so peaceful, so tempting. Taking the blanket off you, Miguel scoffed at his work. All of his bite marks and hickeys all over your body.

You truly were his.

Hissing lowly, Miguel felt himself getting hard by just looking at you. Last night was not enough. To think that he would succumb to these instincts so easily. Waking you slowly, Miguel had to give you time to rest before he could breed you again.

"Mhm....Miggy?" You whispered tiredly.

Shit. Miguel stroked your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. That little nickname you gave him sent shivers down his spine. Hearing you cry his name all night was something out of a dream. A twisted and fucked up dream.

"Here. You need to stay hydrated," Miguel grumbled, helping you drink the water.

"Thank you," You said with a soft yawn, slowly waking up. "Were you busy today? Sorry I slept in."

How cute, you were still thinking about helping him at work. Of course, Miguel was still going to have you work with him. You had to be watched every second of the day. That and he might go insane if you weren't there.

"It's fine. I didn't go in either,"

Miguel was too busy making a name for himself last night. The amount of bones he broke, the people he killed. People were going to fear the name Spider-Man overnight. To think, both as Kingpin and Spider-Man, Miguel was a menace to be reckon with.

"Really?" You gasped. Miguel resisted a chuckle, picking you up with ease,

"If you really want to work, I'll put you to it."

---------

You felt so dazed. Leaning against Miguel, you resisted a whine as Miguel kept you firm against his lap. You were exhausted. How did Miguel have so much stamina? Even after last night, Miguel gave you a good fuck in the shower and now he had you sitting on his cock.

"You need your energy, eat." Miguel huffed, taking a bite of his meal. You squirmed slightly,

"I-It's a little hard...w-when I'm like...this." You whimpered.

You had been working with Miguel for years. Never had you suspected Miguel to be so sex active. Reaching for you food, you shivered as you moved ever so slightly. Your body was sensitive from his rough sex in the shower.

"M-Miggy~"

Your body arched against his, whining against his cock. He was so deep inside you, keeping his previous cum inside your womb. You weren't able to think straight. Miguel's hands were holding your waist as his fingers started to rub your clit.

"Hah~ Ah~ M-Miguel...P-Please~" You begged, itching for him to move.

"Hm? Your body is going to weaken if you don't eat." Miguel said with a smirk, "Easier to have your body accept me and be breed."

You gasped lowly, shuddering and moaning from his touch. You bit your lower lip as Miguel pinned you against the couch, his thrusts slow and almost painful. After having you sit on his cock for a few minutes, you wanted to get ravished.

Miguel hand rested on your lower back, his thrusts slowly picking up. His hips slapping into yours, earning loud moans and whines from you. Tears formed from the corner of your eyes, unsure if you could handle this much pleasure.

"Your body has done well to adapt to me already. Your pussy is just welcoming my dick. Won't be long until you have my children. Are you ready for that, my dear?"

"Yesh~ Mhm~ Miggy~" You cried out.

Miguel chuckled as he pressed your head into the couch, pounding you with no remorse. His wicked laughter echoing throughout his house. Your moans and cries just begging for Miguel to keep you as his pet.

"Mhm~ M-Miggy~ I-I....Ah~ l-love you~" You cried out.

Miguel grunted as you confessed. He felt his vision blur for just a second as he felt his high approaching.

"(Y/N)" Miguel groaned, hurrying his pace, "Fuck..."

Releasing a heavy load inside you, Miguel panted heavily. The words almost slipped out of his mouth. Never. Never could he admit something so cheesy. Watching you tiredly catch your breathe, Miguel felt something in him stir.

"(Y/N), you are mine," He whispered, kissing your head before leaving to clean you up.

How could he admit something so weak? Love? Glancing at you as he grabbed a warm clothe, Miguel inhaled deeply. His emotions were strong for you. Love was the correct term for sure, but he did not want to admit something so...human.

"I need to finish my testing."

----------

You sat in Miguel's bed, watching the news as your body recovered. It had been a few days since you apparently now moved in with Miguel, not that you were complaining. Living with him felt like a dream. Not only did you work with Miguel, but you also got to move up in your relationship with him.

If only he wasn't so work obsessed. Lately, Miguel was working overnights too. He didn't want you coming along and made sure he gave you a reason to stay home. Honestly, you felt like you were losing your mind and falling into Miguel's palm.

"But I love him~" You cooed, drinking some tea.

"And now we head to the city where our reporters are talking with concerned citizens about this new Spider-Man character causing havoc in the city."

Your eyes widen as you placed your cup down. There was a Spider-Man? Gasping lowly, you went to reach for your phone. Miguel must have done it. He made himself into a super powered individual, but why didn't he tell you?

Right as you reached for your phone, you gasped as your hand was webbed to the bed frame.

"Thought I blocked all news channels," Miguel sighed, entering the room with his costume.

"Miguel?! When?"

"Shh,"

Miguel leaned down, removing his mask and brought you in for a deep kiss. His lips licked yours, forcing his tongue down your throat. Unable to resist, your body arched into his, moaning softly. You couldn't deny Miguel.

"That's my good girl. Why don't I give you an explanation tomorrow night? We can swing through the city together."

"Mhm," You hummed to the thought, feeling lost in a daze.

"Now, why don't you give me a proper welcome home."

----------

Miguel just chuckled lowly as he watched you. Not even a single argument came out. You were so obedient. It was so easily to turn you into his super hero pet. Rubbing your head as you worked, Miguel leaned back, inhaling sharply.

He could get used to this life.

People fearing him throughout the day, and you waiting for him at home. Smirking at the thought of tomorrow, Miguel was going to officially show the city who's in charge.

That there were no heroes left to save them.

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

Next Chapter (Last Chapter)

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo @cicithemess @babyprofessorsharkpalace

[scrollonso]

Babysitting Duty — Lawhan

@ellearts for you ofc!! love you elle baby

Just like every other normal adult with a job on a Friday morning, Liam is at work, looking through his previous race stats and figuring out what went wrong when suddenly the screen of his phone lights up with a new notification.

lance, 09:38

okay so

just so you know

you’re on babysitting duty today

 

liam, 09:38

Good morning to you too

Also no.

 

lance, 09:38

wtf

you're her favourite uncle

 

liam, 09:39

Jack and I have plans.

 

lance, 09:39

even better!!!

he can help you as well <3

Liam feels his eye twitching.

“I’ll be back in a second.” He tells Yuki, who shrugs beside him and doesn’t even arch an eyebrow when Liam pushes the chair back so forcefully that the metal legs of it almost break, and then marches out of the library like a man on a mission. 

“This is the fourth time this week alone.” Liam hisses the moment his friend answers the phone and barely has time to let a word out. 

“Li, please .”

“Listen, I love Delilah, I really do,” Liam sighs out and leans back against the tree in the park, suppressing the urge to bang his head against it. “but you know that Jack has been drowning in work and we’ve barely had time to spend together off track since August, it’s November now.”

“This is the last time, I swear.” Lance tells him and even through the phone, Liam can hear desperation in his voice. He slightly bangs his head against the wall. “Luca and I have to go to Monaco, we weren’t planning to, but we’re scared those motherfuckers are destroying the house instead of building it and I can not take my 2 years old daughter all the way to fucking Monte Carlo because her uncle is a massive–”

“Lance.” Liam interrupts him before he has time to send himself into a cardiac arrest which is truly the last thing Liam wants or has time for right now. “Fine.” 

“Really?”

“Of course, you asshole, when have I ever told you no?”

“Literally five minutes ago?”

“You know I can very easily change my mind, right?” Although Lance can’t see him, Liam has that smug smirk on his face that always makes his "brother" want to punch him in the face. 

“But you won’t because you love Lilah and you love me and–”

“No, I do not.” Liam cuts him off and he doesn’t even need to specify that he’s talking about Lance — though his bonus brother knows Liam loves him he definitely knows he's not talking about his one and only and favourite neice. Liam would go to hell and back for her. “Now can you please get off my back so I can go and work like every normal adult does on nine in the morning?”

Lance doesn’t miss a beat before chirping, “technically, it’s already ten.”

“I’m hanging up.” 

As always, Liam stays true to his word and hangs up before Lance has time to tell him when he needs to pick Delilah up from the daycare. He doesn’t really need to because Liam has his schedule memorised (considering how many times he had to pick the kid up instead of his idiot brother and brother-in-law since they adopted Delilah) and plus, it’s not even him who’s going to be picking him up.

“Hey, love.” He can hear the smile in Jack’s voice the moment he answers. “Is everything alright?”

“Debatable.” Liam, being the dramatic little shit that he is, whines out and is definitely not offended at the sound of Jack giggling on the other side at his theatrics, thank you very much. “We’re on babysitting duty tonight, again, for the fourth time this week.”

“I did have a feeling that you were going to call me about that.” Jack hums, and even without being able to see him, Liam knows that he’s spinning around in his stupid spinning chair in the Alpine office like a little kid (Liam wants a freaking spinning chair too).

“Which means that you already know you’re going to be the one picking her up from the daycare?” Liam asks with a grin on his face.

“You know it wouldn’t kill you every now and then to walk to her daycare and meet the teachers, right?”

“Oh, sorry, I can’t hear you anymore, the service here is terrible, bye.”

Liam slams his finger against the end call button so firmly that his thumb starts to hurt, but whatever. He is not walking all the way to that daycare after a long day at work; he would rather die, no offense to the Marini-Stroll family.

And, truth be told, Liam finds it very interesting that Jack loves to make fun of him for hating to go to places that are too far from his flat or his work, considering that Jack drives everywhere and yet, he still hasn’t taught Liam anything, no matter how many times Liam begged him to teach him how to drive — it's more different from racing than one would think.

A traitor of a husband, that’s what he is, but Liam still loves him with his entire being.

After letting out a small, quite embarrassing giggle at the dumb meme Jack sent of himself right after he hung up, Liam shoves his phone into his pocket and walks back inside the library, a small huff breaking out of his throat as he throws himself onto that uncomfortable chair.

“We need to get new chairs,” he complains to Yuki, who doesn’t even remove his gaze from his laptop as he hums absent-mindedly. “I’m serious, these are so uncomfortable.”

“Or maybe you're just jealous that your husband has a spinning chair at Alpine's building and you don’t.” The corners of his mouth twitch upwards slightly the moment Liam groans quietly and bangs his head on the top of his desk.

However, his frustration gets thrown out the window the second he reads a newly received email from Christian, saying that he has to cancel tomorrow’s meeting for family emergency reasons. Liam hopes that the man and his family are alright but holy shit, he won’t have to sit there and fight the urge to lose his mind for three hours on Saturday morning and he will be able to spend a morning lazily in bed with his husband — God bless.

Liam sends a quick message to Jack, announcing his once-in-a-lifetime moment to him, receiving dozens of confetti emojis (and an eggplant emoji; Liam hates this man) in return before he returns to the list of those damned books — yes, red bull has assigned him readings to complete before he can drive — with a dumb grin on his face.

Liam slams his laptop shut right at 5:58 pm.

“If I have to go through this list for one more minute, I will freaking lose it,” he hisses to Yuki, who genuinely doesn’t care or finds it absolutely hilarious when Liam is being tormented. And, considering that this time isn’t any different, he giggles and looks at him with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Just go already, then.” He suggests, as if Liam is an idiot for not even thinking about that option — which is rude, because of course he thought about that option, and that is exactly why he's now shoving his laptop and notebook so aggressively into his bag.

“I am going.” He tells him without any heat and pushes the chair back into its place, flashing a small smile at Yuki now that his mind has accepted he’s about to be free from this hell.

Every complaint about his sometimes pain-in-the-ass job disappears from his head the moment he steps outside the library and sees that Jack is already there.

His husband is wearing classic pants and a shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he looks absolutely gorgeous; Liam almost drops to his knees the moment he processes the outfit (again, because he was quite literally there in the morning when Jack was getting ready). But the thing that gets him the most is that Jack has Delilah in his lap, playing with her and grinning triumphantly when she lets out that heartwarming laugh.

Liam has seen Jack with kids, of course he has, but there’s something so different about this. This, as in Jack picking her up from the daycare, driving straight to Liam’s work, and entertaining her while they wait for Liam to be done so they can all go home. There’s something so unbearably domestic about it.

Liam has always known that he and Jack would have kids, but it was mainly him who asked Jack not to rush into things, especially when they’re as serious as adopting and raising a child, and they’ve been married only for a year. But it hits Liam suddenly, totally unexpectedly, that there’s nothing he wants more than to raise children with Jack now, and he can not wait for it to happen.

“Love, is everything alright?” Jack asks with worry in his eyes and slowly gets up from the bench. He puts Delilah on his hip and starts walking toward Liam when he notices that he’s cemented to the spot, staring at them with his mouth agape.

It’s like Liam’s brain is refusing to cooperate and form words, so all he does is give Jack a small nod in return. The second Jack is close enough, Liam grabs him by his tie and pulls him down carefully, a sound escaping Jack’s throat quickly muffled by Liam’s mouth.

“Everything is perfect,” Liam breathes against his lips, hearing Jack let out a small chuckle at his hoarse voice. He would definitely ask what all of that was about if it hadn’t been for Liam turning to Delilah to pinch her cheeks almost painfully until the girl turned to put her face into the space between Jack's neck and shoulder. Liam grins, prideful. “Let’s go home, I’m starving.”

Thankfully, on their way back home, Delilah seems to remember that Liam isn’t an evil uncle who’s going to eat her whole and is, in fact, her favourite uncle. For at least twenty minutes, she chatters about everything and anything, while Jack and Liam nod along, even though they can barely make out half the words she’s saying.

At some point, Jack mutters under his breath that he has two kids in his car, because Liam gets so close to throwing a tantrum in the moving car until Jack finally stops by Dunkin’ to get his husband his daily dose of sickly sweet donuts. Jack doesn’t even bother to hide the fond smile that creeps onto his face when Liam’s eyes light up as soon as Jack hands him the box.

Getting Delilah to wash her hands and change into the extra clothes her dads left around Liam's flat is quite a struggle, to say the least. But with combined powers, they manage to achieve the goal, just like they manage to convince her to eat a proper meal instead of filling up on the donuts Jack brought for Liam.

However, when it comes to finding something to entertain Delilah so she doesn’t notice that her dads aren’t there with her — and to prevent her from tormenting poor Enzo — that’s when all hell breaks loose.

“We’re putting on Cars!” Liam declares, grabbing a DVD from the shelf.

“No, we are putting on Animaniacs for Lilah!” Jack retorts, reaching for another DVD.

“Cars!”

“Animaniacs!” Jack fires back, grinning.

“Animaniacs doesn't teach her anything!” Liam protests.

“You wanna put on a movie about talking vehicles!” Jack counters, folding his arms.

“Jack Doohan, we will put on Animaniacs or you’re staying home next month, and I’m taking Mick with me to Abu Dhabi!” Liam threatens, wagging a finger at him.

In the end, all three of them end up sprawled on the couch, cuddled up and cozy, drifting off to sleep to the sound of cars driving and Mater Mater-ing.

When Liam wakes up with Delilah nestled on his chest and Jack’s arm wrapped protectively around both of them, he can’t help but smile. This might just be his definition of perfect.

 

Liam feels Jack's arms around his naked body and the man's chest against his back before he even fully comes back to consciousness. That doesn’t stop him from letting out a contented hum and snuggling more into his husband’s touch before it suddenly hits him that he has absolutely no clue if he put Delilah to bed properly yesterday or not.

Almost as if Jack heard Liam’s thoughts, he tightens his hold and nuzzles his nose into Liam’s neck, murmuring before Liam has a chance to start panicking, “Lance and Luca picked her up while you were sleeping last night.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Liam grumbles, turning around in Jack’s arms, almost squishing his nose against Jack’s chest in the process.

“Because.” Jack replies simply, and before Liam has time to complain about how that’s not a proper answer, Jack pushes him onto his back and drapes his body over Liam’s, earning a small, winded oof from him.

Liam smiles fondly at Jack curling against him like an actual cat (even though they both agree Jack is a golden retriever while Liam is a cat, never mind Lance calling them both idiots for it). Wasting no time, he wraps his arms around his husband, burying half of his face in Jack’s soft waves.

“I think Delilah had a good time yesterday,” Jack whispers against Liam’s throat, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down Liam’s spine.

“She always has a good time here, torturing our poor puppy and getting you to stuff her face with sweets.” Liam says with a small smile, running his hands up and down Jack’s bare back, scratching here and there for the fun of it.

“There are sacrifices we all have to make to get a kid to like us.” Jack declares, looking up at Liam with that toothy grin, and Liam just has to kiss him for it.

“You’re great with kids,” he tells Jack, watching as his sleepy eyes start sparkling with happiness like a little kid’s. Liam hopes Jack doesn’t notice the way his heartbeat rises at the words he’s planning to say next. “You’ll be an amazing dad.”

“You’ll be an amazing dad too, Li.” Jack says, leaning forward to leave a soft kiss against the corner of Liam’s mouth before his husband tugs at his curls, pulling him into a proper, open-mouthed kiss.

“Jack, I mean that—” Liam tries to continue after breaking the kiss, but he isn’t exactly sure how to say it without freaking him out, because what if Jack isn’t ready or doesn’t want kids, or doesn’t want kids with him, or—

“You’re overthinking again.” Jack’s sweet voice interrupts Liam’s spiraling thoughts just in time, and he can feel the anxiety start to fade as Jack cups his face gently, pressing his forehead against Liam’s and looking into his eyes. “What is it, love?”

“You— you want to have kids with me…right?” Liam asks, wincing internally at how choked the words sound.

“I— Li, sweetie, of course I do!” Jack looks so surprised by the question that for a moment, Liam genuinely worries his eyes might fall out of their sockets. “Did you think I didn’t want to?”

“No, I just…” Liam almost groans, trying to look away but failing due to the way Jack is holding him firmly and staring into his eyes. “I just really want to raise a child with you, and— I needed to make sure you felt the same.”

Jack’s confused expression softens, replaced by a fond look in his brown eyes, and he kisses Liam again, though both struggle with it since Jack can’t stop smiling.

“Li, there’s nothing in this world I want more than having kids with you.” Jack whispers against his lips, his smile growing even wider at the sight of tears gathering in Liam’s eyes. “In fact, we can start working on it right here and now—”

“You’re such an idiot.” Liam laughs, which quickly turns into a quiet whimper as Jack presses himself between Liam’s legs, leaning down to kiss and bite his throat.

“So I’ve been told.” Jack hums. “But you love me for it.”

“I do.” Liam’s hands slide up into Jack’s hair again before he tugs hard enough to make Jack look at him. “I’m choosing the name.”

“Why not me?”

“Because you’ll name him after a MotoGP world champion or a video game!”

“I would not— him?”

Liam isn’t sure why, but he instantly blushes and nods, “I want to have a boy.”

“I’m starting to think you’ve already picked a name.” Jack says, his voice full of adoration as he brushes a strand of hair out of Liam’s face and kisses his forehead, the tip of his nose, and then his lips.

“I have.” Liam admits, feeling the tips of his ears grow hot as he watches Jack’s expression turn awestruck.

“Well, tell me then!”

“Pierce.” Liam whispers, playing with Jack’s curls as Jack looks at him like he’s falling in love all over again. “Pierce Doohan-Lawson— it sounds cute, doesn’t it?”

“It does— Longest name ever, but it really does.” Jack whispers, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he grins wide enough to rival the sun before pulling his husband into another deep kiss.

[emiplayzmc]

I mentioned this prior, but idk if you saw the post. Basically I imagine if twisted glisten was taken with the group, he’d have like opposite stats so to speak. High stealth and speed with very low extraction. The stealth and speed stuff goes without saying, but I wanna elaborate on the extraction thing. His hands are covered with ichor and I don’t think it would be far fetched to think that they might be badly hurt as well or at the least painfully raw from growing and changing into talons. He can extract, but it’s slow and also just super painful. It feels akin to trying to grab something metal when your hands are covered in raw blisters.

You’d think this would be enough to get him to not try to do them. You’d be wrong. He is constantly being shooed off the machines by the other toons because he wants to be helpful but they can SEE that it fucking hurts him and don’t want him to keep hurting himself more

Oooo, I think I've seen this post before!! I actually love the idea of his stats being switched around because of his Mach 20 Jet Plane speed and the fact that Twisteds don't pay him any mind since he's TECHNICALLY one of them. And you've mentioned the ichor acting like blisters on him, I LOVE that idea. He's probably constantly in pain, but his hands even more so given the fact that he's tied them up with ribbons and they're soaked in ichor so it would make sense that it would hurt for him to turn the valves. Like he's constantly hissing in pain to himself or taking a few seconds to shake off a hand for pain before returning to extracting because he wants to help so badly, and it takes a long time because he's doing it so gingerly.

Ooo, what if he tried to do it a little faster at some point and tried to tough out the pain, but another Toon noticed what he was doing and stopped him. The reason he was trying to do it faster was because he was thinking it wasn't doing enough to help and thought they were going to be mad at him and he's just CONSTANTLY thinking about 'what if they leave me again if I can'thelp enough?', so the other Toons have to reassure him on that (hey, maybe he could work with the Distractors! Like on floors with hard-to-deal-with Toons (Mains, Goob and Scraps, etc) he can keep them occupied while the other Distractors deal with the easier ones - although I feel like he'd probably have a hard time with Goob as well due to a hc of Twisted Goob being the one that killed him / split his torso).

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

18 for the fic writer asks!

Thank you <3 from this ask game

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

I do have a word doc with dumped bits but they're usually sentences as I have such a hard time editing things out. But I do have a decent chunk I cut from i’ll be alright, i’ll be fine, i’m a liar where Jamie has a panic attack while A&E with Ted.

His heart was hammering in his ears, drowning out anything Ted was saying. Ted placed a hand on his chest as another breath caught in his throat. He pulled Jamie’s hand to his own chest, his tie soft under Jamie’s trembling hand.

“Match—--breaths.”

“What?” Jamie asked.

He couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. What the fuck was happening? He moved his hands, wanting to shove them under his shirt, but was too late reminded of his injury, his hiss of pain turning into a hiccuping breath.

“Ted?” he gasped. “What’s—what’s happening?

“Match my breaths. That’s it. Big inhale. Big exhale.”

The curtain ripped open, and the nurse from earlier appeared.

“I think he’s having a panic attack,” Ted said.

“That’s okay, love,” the nurse said, opening a vial and adding it to his IV. “This’ll help.”

“That’s good, Jamie. In. Out. In. Out.”

“That’s it, love, listen to your Dad.”

“Not–me–Dad,” Jamie managed between hiccuping breaths.

Ted’s face did something Jamie couldn’t decipher.

“That’s it, Jamie,” Ted said again as he removed his hand from Jamie’s chest but not Jamie’s from his.

Jamie dropped his hand from Ted’s chest as if it burned him, and Ted took a tentative half-step back. His coach’s face did that thing again, but he still couldn’t translate. Jamie couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“I’ll go check with the doctor to see if she’s reviewed your X-rays yet,” the nurse said, closing the curtain behind her.

Jamie felt himself sinking into the gurney as whatever the nurse had given him took effect. He still felt every sensation of his body, like he could feel his lungs inflating and deflating in kind, his hand throbbing in kind with his rapid heart rate.

“You doing alright?” Ted asked, wringing his hands together.

“Yeah,” he said, still purposely breathing in and out and stifling a cough.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Ted looked–did he look ashamed? But at himself or Jamie, he couldn’t tell.

“You didn’t. I’m fine,” Jamie said.

And, well, he wasn’t fucking fine. He was stuck in A&E with the last person he wanted to be with. Maybe not the last, but Ted was far down the list of people he would want with him at this moment.

“I’m fine,” Jamie said again; at least his breathing had slowed, and while his hand still throbbed, the pain only turned to agony if he tried to move it.

“I won’t make you talk about it, but maybe I could just talk for a bit? You can listen if you want or just pretend to listen. I won’t know either way if those ears of yours are open or not. Does that sound alright?”

Jamie gave a tentative nod. He could just recite his stats in his head if he needed to drown the American out.

“I get it, I do. Not wanting to see your ex-girlfriend move on to someone else. I don’t know how I’m going to react if Michelle starts dating again. I like to think that it wouldn’t affect me, but I can’t be sure.”

Jamie stared past Ted, concentrating on a stain on the wall behind him. Don’t think about where the stain came from, he told himself.

“It’s not about them,” Jamie said quietly.

“You say that, but–”

“It’s not!” Jamie said, his voice raising. “Look, it sucks. Yeah? But Roy’s back coaching now so I have to get used to seeing them together, yeah?”

“Yes, but–”

“I’m not such a fragile little bitch that I can’t handle seeing them together.”

“I wasn’t trying to say you were, Jamie.”

They stared at each other for a bit, Jamie unwilling to give in, Ted not wanting to push forward too much and push Jamie further into a corner.

“I think I’ve screwed this up. I am worried about you. That part was true. But I’m struggling how to help you without making you feel worse than you already do.”

“I don’t need you to help me. There’s nothing to fucking help.”

“Okay.”

There was a finality to it, the air in the room seemingly feeling it, too. Maybe it was the pain medication, but Jamie suddenly didn’t want to close to door.

“I didn’t want to go,” Jamie said and waited for Ted to say he was disappointed or at least his face too but that didn’t happen. “Last year neither.”

“I don’t–” Jamie paused, trying to corral his thoughts properly. “I don’t like the idea of someone buying me. It feels–it feels wrong.”

Ted nodded and Jamie played with the hem of his suit jacket with his uninjured hand.

“I get it–it’s part of the job. But, I hate it. And thinking I have to do something that’s not my choice–it makes me skin crawl. And I know that’s wrong. I know it’s for a good cause, yeah, and I went on the telly and fucked on like every surface imaginable, and I mean, like, every surface, they didn’t even show everywhere–”

“Yup, I get it, Jamie, you can continue.”

“Okay, right. I just–I didn’t do this on purpose, swear down. But, if you’re saying like me brain did it without telling me. It wasn’t because of Roy and Keeley.”

[forsakenmissives]

inspired by @izzyspussy’s prompt. hope u dont mind?? lol also tw for mention of james tartt. yknow how it is — also im thinking this takes place around the start of the season after the show ends 💚 but also (thanks nonny!) just pretend eras tour came out 2021 and barbie came out 2022 and not. now LOL

It starts as less than a handful of Tweets. Honestly, Jamie laughs at the first one, then scrolls by and completely misses the rest. And then he sees a group of lads donning West Ham merch pointing at him while on his morning run (sans Roy, who had to bow out due to a cold, the dick . . . Jamie's planning on picking him up breakfast) and whispering — but not quiet enough — that the Barbie has escaped his box. The Tweets (and comments and replies and DMs) appear more frequently after that.

The pictures of him in his pink tracksuit, tied to Roy’s bike, are passed around again. This time not by his loyal fans who begged for proper HD pics from him and thought he looked good as hell, but by the ones who call him Barbie and think his hair is blond and dumb and that he is just a dumb blond who isn’t even that good at football. At least that last bit could be easily refuted by his stats. He’s damn good at his job, and he knows it.

He doesn’t say anything about it, however, until they’re in the locker room after training, and Isaac huffs at something while looking at his phone. Jamie glances over to see him angling the screen toward him. “They’re callin’ you Barbie, bruv.”

Isaac is a really good friend, like, the best a guy could ask for. But Jamie kind of doesn’t want to think about this. “Yeah, I saw. It’s a compliment, innit? And kind of fittin’. I’m perfect, I’m everything. I am Barbie, ain’t I?”

At his easy dismissal, Isaac brightens up, grinning, and Jamie grins back. He finds the Tweet he was shown and posts a good selfie he took a few days ago, captioning it, I am everything. You wanna be Ken? It’s a bit stupid, but the insult is stupid too, so he thinks he’s allowed it.

The thing is — he wants to be unbothered by the nickname. The Barbie movie was fucking awesome, and though he’s still on thin ice with Keeley, even after their strictly-business trip to Brazil, they put aside their differences . . . that is, they put aside Jamie’s fuck-up to go and watch one of the screenings together. Yeah. It was fucking awesome. And he loves women. Like, major respect.

But the condemnations of the word are a knife’s edge away from a whiskey-tinged voice hissing soft and little bitch in his ear, and Jamie really can’t fucking deal with that right now. And he had gone and seen James in rehab, just for a couple hours, and he doesn’t regret going and seeing him, and he actually thinks it’s fucking mint the man’s getting help. He even enjoyed going through the old photos of his grandparents and James as a baby and even some of his own photos, when his mum looked a little less tired and he wasn’t afraid to smile too brightly. And in rehab, James is given limited Internet time, so the chances of him seeing the insults, seeing Jamie being called a girls’ toy, something pretty and pink, are small, and even if he does see, what can he do? They won’t just let him leave while obviously on some rampage.

It’s not like Jamie plans on going back to the man any time soon anyway. He’s not James Tartt’s anything. They just share a name. So what?

Jamie jumps at the touch of a hand on his shoulder. He pockets his phone (his Quote Tweet is now at twenty thousand likes and counting), and when he turns, it’s Roy, staring at him with those impossibly dark eyes and wild brows that make them even darker.

“Hi, coach,” he says with a grin.

Roy grunts back.

Jamie stays still for another second before blinking. “Got any wisdom for me?”

The other guys have begun to clear out, and now it’s just them and Beard still in the coaches’ office. And Will, who seems to be some metaphor for God, the way he’s always around, not even lurking, just . . . around.

Finally, Roy says, “Good pass. Don’t be late tomorrow.”

It’s so unbearably Roy that it makes Jamie sick. It also suggests there’s more he’s not saying, but Jamie isn’t sure what. He doesn’t push, however, just salutes him. “‘Course, coach,” he leans back on his heels, “dark and early, yeah?”

Roy nods, then pivots and mechanically goes back to the office. Jamie watches him go before turning and gathering his things. As he packs, he can practically feel Roy’s eyes on his back, but he knows when he turns, both him and Beard will be staring down at things on their desks. Whatever.

Jamie doesn’t run into anyone on his way out, and he’s grateful, taking a breath when he gets in his car then speeding off. He feels itchy under his skin, like when his foot falls asleep but the sensation is all over his body, and he kind of regrets leaving Nelson Road because he thinks running a few extra laps up and down the pitch would soothe him, if only a little bit. Despite this, when he gets home, he just gets out of his car and goes inside. It’s not that he’s worried about a repeat of his solo jog that one morning. It’s just really hot outside, what with it being late July and all, and he just showered, like, thirty minutes ago.

Every time a notification goes off on his phone, his stomach flips in a really awful way. Jamie turns off his phone.

Maybe now that he’s said something, it’ll die down. Since he’s made it clear he’s not bothered by it, that he can take whatever they give, they’ll stop.

And then, the first match of the season, Jamie walks onto the pitch, and a familiar song starts up. It’s not his song — but it’s certainly for him.

“Are they singing . . . ‘Barbie Girl’?” Colin asks from behind him.

“And changing the pronoun to ‘he’,” Jan adds, helpful as ever.

Jamie catches sight of one of the cameras recording the match, grins and sticks out his tongue, and when he looks to the opposing fans’ side, he even gives a little bow. Just for them. He thinks about something Lasso said to him once about bullying, after he stopped being a dick to Nate and asked why Ted never stepped in. Acknowledging it almost always makes it worse. Sorry that Jamie had believed in the ‘almost’.

;

After getting booted from Keeley’s and after a dinner at a kebab place that Jamie knows is good because Roy didn’t actually make him sit and watch — he picked bits of lamb from the skewer and placed them on the napkin i​​n front of Jamie without a word — it’s not unusual for him and Roy to get dinner together. Sometimes it’s just them at Roy’s, who’s a better cook than his mum but not better than Simon, and sometimes it’ll be at a pub, and sometimes they’ll go to a restaurant. It was with ruddy cheeks that Roy admitted the kebab shop was like his church, but Jamie wasn’t judging. He thinks he understood the ecstasy of St Theresa after a bite of that lamb.

Tonight, however, Roy drops Jamie off at his place, and then parks the car and follows him in.

“Uh,” Jamie says when Roy stands in the entryway, a hand behind his back, posture stiff, “can I help you?”

“Go to your room,” Roy replies, and Jamie’s eyes go wide, and he says, “O-kay, Daddy,” before he backtracks, but Roy is backtracking too. “I mean, go somewhere that isn’t behind me or the kitchen.”

Jamie’s mouth drops into an ‘o’. “Right. Okay. I’ll just go to the living room, then.”

Roy nods, and Jamie walks slowly to the couch, backwards so he can watch Roy watching him.

He manages to sit still on his couch for a good two minutes, listening to Roy clattering about his kitchen, before he hops up and goes to sit at his dining table instead. It’s there that he sees a paper bag, and it takes everything in him not to peek into it. At the sound of the chair scraping against the floor, Roy leans back from where he’d had his head stuck in Jamie’s fridge, and he turns to look back at Jamie, who smiles innocently at him. He even waggles his fingers in a wave for good measure.

Roy rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, so Jamie thinks it’s fine, and he doesn’t think about how good it feels to be the one behind Roy Kent’s smile. Roy goes back to rummaging through the fridge.

Eventually, Jamie gets roped into helping out, but all his complaints are customary, and he thinks if he had allowed himself — if he had been allowed — to dream about domesticity, this is exactly how it would’ve been. Right down to the celebrity footballer. It’s kind of perfect.

Then, Jamie’s phone goes off.

It’s his news app, which he keeps forgetting to turn off the notifications for, and it irritates him every time, but especially when he actually clicks the notification ‘cause the story looks interesting, only to find out he’s somehow already used up his articles for the month, and would he please be willing to spare a few pounds every month for more? In theory, yes, he is willing. In practice . . . he has other places to put his money.

That being said, the irritation he feels then is nothing compared to the humiliation he feels now, reading the headline: This Barbie is a Footballer: AFC Richmond Jamie Tartt’s new song.

Roy is turned the other way, so luckily, he can’t see the way Jamie’s smile immediately drops from his face. This shit isn’t even important! It’s just some stupid fan war mess, the opponents’ fans trying to get in his head, and it’s not fucking working, alright? He doesn’t care. He’s just embarrassed that it’s apparently made the news. It’s really not a big deal.

When he looks up from his phone, Roy is looking at him. Jamie swallows.

“It’s nothin’,” he tells him. “Just some politician, saying some stupid thing. Sam sent it to me to rant.”

Roy nods, but he looks like he doesn’t believe him. Jamie’s voice had wavered in the middle, so he doesn’t believe himself either. But he still doesn’t budge, just leans back against the counter and waits for Roy to either turn away or say something in return. Roy turns away. Over his shoulder, he says, “I have something for you after we eat.”

“Whatever’s in the bag?” Jamie asks. Roy grunts. “Is it concert tickets? Am I goin’ to see Taylor fucking Swift? The bag’s just to throw me off, obviously.”

“Fuck no,” Roy’s response is, pun intended, swift and immediate. Jamie grins. “You’ll see later. Just . . . wait.”

Jamie groans. “Fine. But it better be good, since you got me all excited for the concert.”

Roy gives him a stern glare. Jamie puts his hands up, then gets back to washing the dishes they’re done using.

All throughout their meal, Jamie struggles to sit still, and his eyes, without fail, return to the bag. It becomes enough of a problem that Roy takes the bag and hides it in his lap, but Jamie’s no coward, so his gaze still wanders to — well.

“The quicker you finish eating, the sooner you get to see it,” Roy growls out around his own mouthful of salmon and quinoa (Jamie was surprised he had those things in his freezer and cupboard too, but it made a damn good meal, so he’s not complaining).

Jamie grows a lot more focussed after that, and he’s done within minutes — nay, seconds. Roy raises his eyebrows in approval. Jamie licks the leftover glaze for the salmon off his fork for good measure. Roy looks down at his plate.

Once Roy finishes eating, the paper bag makes its triumphant return, Roy setting it between them. He nods his head at it, and Jamie takes it quickly, before the other can change his mind and take it back.

He doesn’t expect what he pulls out, but he feels like he should. He looks between the Barbie and Roy, who’s staring at Jamie with a gaze so intense Jamie worries he might burn up from it. If this had been bestowed to him any time the year before, especially from Roy, he’d think it a continuation of the insult. But all he feels right now is laughter, the weight in his stomach turning into something bubbly and light that works its way up his throat and past his lips. Slowly — because he’s out of practice, the old fart — Roy begins to smile back.

The stupid fucking made-to-move soccer Barbie is even wearing an England kit, and when Jamie turns her around, he grins at the number and name on the back.

“You fucking dick,” he says, the words coming out as a hiss through his teeth, that’s how hard he’s grinning.

“You’re Jamie fucking Tartt,” Roy replies, and Jamie wishes he had a word to describe the look the other was sending him, but the best he can do is say how it makes him feel — really fucking good; like nothing could ever hurt him; like there is no one else in the world but the two of them; like he could go win the World Cup, the FA Cup, all the Leagues, every award in the football world, and not break a single sweat. It makes him feel a lot like he’s in love.

Roy’s not done: “You are everything. Who gives a shit if some pricks call you Barbie? You fucking own it, Jamie. You are every-fucking-thing, and they’re not even Ken.”

And Jamie will make fun of him for it later, that he’s more than aware of the movie’s tagline, but at the moment, he’s clutching the Barbie to his chest like a lifeline, and he feels a sting behind his eyes, like tears are threatening to spill, and his cheeks hurt with how hard he’s smiling.

Roy clears his throat. “Phoebe said there are ways you can change the hair, but . . . don’t use heat. It’s plastic. You can cut it or dye it fucking . . . walnut haze or whatever.”

Jamie doesn’t even correct him that it’s walnut mist. He’s close enough.

He gives the doll one last squeeze. “Thanks, Roy, I mean it.”

Roy doesn’t reply, just gives a grunt and nods his head. That’s alright too. Jamie looks down at the doll again, then leans back in his seat. He holds it up to his face, angles her head so they’re cheek-to-cheek more or less.

“Like twins, ain’t we?”

And Jamie wonders if maybe there were something in the food, or maybe in their drinks, because it seems like Roy can’t stop smiling either.

;

The opposing fans are at it again. Jamie sees Roy glance back at him and grins. He considers mouthing all good, coach, but he’s more interested in using one arm to wave and the other to hold his Barbie up the same way he had when it was just him and Roy, teeth bared all the while. The crowd goes wild, of course.

He’s Jamie fucking Tartt. He’s everything. Of course no one is going to think of him as just Ken — that’s just ridiculous.

in case you can’t tell “condemnations” is supposed to be “connotations”. ily jamieisms 💚 also i wrote this rly fast on my phone so sorry & now on ao3 if u'd prefer to read it there ✌️

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 8. Hector

A/N: the way I always had something in the drafts to write for my beloved man like back during the summer time. The universe had other plans and what better time than to revisit this episode on Halloween! I think this is my first time ever writing on the day of this superior season?! Happy Halloween people 🧡 🪄

WARNINGS: language + hints of sexual tension 😅

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: “I love you, I swear I do but we’re not wearing matching costumes.”

₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚

[~October. 2000’s~]

Oh the wonders of being a big time celebrity during the month of Halloween. That’s right, a whole entire month! Which felt like so because you were constantly in the limelight with people not only dissecting your love life but also your roles which consisted of either being the lead scream queen in a thriller series, supporting actress in horror movies, and also being the star drummer (on some Sheila E shit!) and backup singer of a Alt-Pop girl band on the side.

So yes, you stayed busy and were worth talking about.

“Whatever you decide to be this year has to be big. I mean Destiny’s child, Britney Spears, Zac and Vanessa, and Halle Berry are all gonna be here at your party this year.” Your manager/publicist ranted as she paced the floor in your open concept closet.

You’re lounging on your studded chaise lounge chair, texting away on your blackberry while chewing on some gum, half listening, “Halle’s my god-mom, of course she will be here to support but who else is on this list exactly?”

“I invited pretty much everyone, the hottest stars even those who may or may be in your age range. It doesn’t matter! As long as you get good pics that brings fresh press.” Natania voiced as she began flipping through a notepad.

You hum knowing the deal, considering you’ve been in the limelight since you were fourteen so this was not anything entirely new. “I’ve got the perfect outfit for Hector and I.”

Natania glances up from writing, “funny you mention him after I say press.”

“Him has a name and who also happens to be my boyfriend?”

“Don’t remind me,” Natania mutters, “and just to think you could still be with Taylor Lautner right now. His stats are only climbing after ‘Breaking Dawn Part I,’ dropped and I can only imagine how much more attention he’s gonna get.”

Shrugging your shoulders you say, “I’ve got more than enough attention with and without a guy by my side. It was fun while it lasted but as soon as he booked the role for twilight, the distance just grew. It was all only a matter of time.”

At sixteen and seventeen years old you got into a relationship, naturally with who everyone may know as Jacob Black but he was just Taylor to you. You met way back in a martial arts class that your uncle actually taught but you didn’t end up sticking with it thanks to a tv series you booked. You met again not long after at a audition for “Sharkboy and LavaGirl.”

“Well the both of you could have at least faked it for a little!” Natania almost stomped her feet before sighing, “I mean Taylor still talks highly about you although you decided to pick a old paparazzi instead as your new fling.”

“I wouldn’t expect him to say anything less,” you blinked, “wasn’t a bad break up anyway and I don’t pay you to make judgements on who I date. I pay for you to manage my career, not my personal life, sooo mind yours.”

Natania rolled her eyes beneath her glasses, “whatever, you’re right. I’m just saying you could have done better. There’s just something off about him—Hector and not the whole follow people like you around for cash either.”

“Nat!” You hissed, “shut up already, hector’s coming over, he’s gonna be at that party with me and that’s that. When’s the stylist coming over?”

Natania puts on a forced smile and glances at the watch on her wrist, “in about a hour.”

“Great! Hector says he’ll be here in fifteen so that gives us a little down time. You can let yourself out whenever you’re ready.” You state laying back to rest your eyes.

You’ve been up since six thirty this morning doing a extreme workout routine you didn’t like with a trainer who took it too seriously. You were more of a cardio person than juggling ropes, jumping and squatting, and flipping over tires.

Soon the door bell rings and you pry one eye open to see the monitor by the door glowing, making you aware who it could be. Groaning you took your time getting closer to the screen, seeing no one there. Shrugging to yourself, you plopped down on the lounge just as your closet door budged open revealing your stylist and no other than your boyfriend, Hector.

Lounging on your elbows you smile and wave at the two.

“No, please. Don’t get up, I got it.” Your stylist wheeled in a rack while you laughed at the usual sarcasm.

“Hey, baby.” You craned your neck to meet Hector’s lips as he leaned over you in greeting before sitting next to you, “what happened to fifteen minutes?”

Hector laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck, knowing that he was late, “traffic? Even on my bike and Hunger…”

You hum at this.

“Just burgers.” Hector whispers as you shrug your shoulders.

You knew what it was like, actually dating someone in the supernatural world. It could always go one or two ways and of course there were heavy rumors surrounding Hector since he was there at the time of Mazey Day’s death. He should have been dead—especially with the amount of damage done to his body, you knew what he and Bo were up to and the pictures Bo showed you was not something you would forget.

However Hector was meant to live and see it through…and he did with the help of your family.

They got to him first.

That’s right, a long history of, “werewolf or wolf training,” depending on which form. You had more experience with simply wolfs while the higher skilled like your parents and siblings dealt with the werewolf’s. Due to your involvement with the spotlight you didn’t have much time for…family activities but you weren’t completely clueless.

If you were able to get to Mazey Day in time, perhaps things could have been different. No one really knew and some still didnt accept what it was.

Werewolves were fucking real and you so happened to be dating one.

“Soooo,” you drag pushing yourself up once more to face Hector with a tired smile, “I’ve got an idea of what we should be for Halloween.”

“Aw but you didn’t see what Freddie brought yet.”

“Oh it’s in there alright,” you push off the chair to head over to Freddie who has measuring tape draped over his shoulders.

You do the honors of taking the protective cover off the clothes and run your fingers over the various fabrics, “we have DoubleDare contestants from the 90s, or you can be Cupid and I’ll be a large fuzzy heart, or my personal fav: little red riding hood and her werewolf of a grandmother.”

Hector blinks after briefly studying the costumes and says, “I love you, I swear I do but we’re not wearing matching costumes.”

“Uh oh,” Freddie mutters while you frown at the curly haired man.

“And why the hell not? The last option is the best one.”

“I get that one,” Hector replies with a knowing look in his dark eyes, “but don’t you think it’s a little…corny?”

“We’re supposed to be corny! You’re my boyfriend and I’m your girl.” Digging your fists into your hips and peer at Hector who snorts.

“Yeah but—

“At least try it on! I mean if we’re gonna be at my party together shouldn’t we at least match?”

Hector lightly grips your wrist to pull you from Freddie’s ear shot, “it’s gonna be a full moon that night.”

“Even better.”

“For who? Not me.”

“It’s been a year already,” you slip your hand down to squeeze his, “you’re gonna be fine.”

“That’s not what your mom believes.” Hector’s shoulders almost slump, which irritates you, the fact that your mother was always getting into his head was not something foreign to you but when she started to do it to people you cared about, that’s when it became a problem.

“Newsflash, she doesn’t know everything like she claims.”

“I mean I should listen to her since…”

“Since she’s more skilled than me? Ah alright well I get it. Look, I’m not gonna peer pressure you. I just know I wouldn’t have you here if I didn’t think you could handle it. We’d take all the proper precautions a few days before just like I planned but if you really don’t feel comfortable…we’ll just make sure to take the pictures in advance and we’ll go from there.”

Hector studies you then. He knew that it was hard to be around each other sometimes whenever the moon shifted. He was thankful he got another chance at life…sure but life just become a whole lot more difficult now with this new lifestyle and being legit involved with someone in the public eye. No doubt he’s thought about it before but never pictured it happening and Bo also told him it was a bad idea after figuring out that he basically resurrected and could transform into a hairy ass creature!

You lived one way and he lived another, there were contrasts to you just like the sun and the moon, the pair of you worked taking turns to let the other breathe separately. Space was efficient when it came to your relationship but when you were together? That opened up a whole new feeling. A scary one. He wasn’t sure if this relationship would be long term but he had the chance to see you for what you are beyond the lights and that was a treat in itself.

He exhales, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face, “…let’s try these costumes on then.”

And you squeal, hopping into his arms and he holds onto you as you lock your legs around his hips, his beaming smile meeting yours as you peck all along his handsome face.

“We look foolish,” Hector comments as he readjusts the gingham hat on top of his head while you stand side by side in a full length mirror.

You laugh as you wrap your arms around the curly haired man in the floral green nightgown, “correction: we look fine as hell.”

“Fine enough to where I don’t need to spend two hours sitting in a chair having ass cramps and getting wolf prosthetics on?” Hector slips on his circular glasses and peeks over them at your reflection.

Red was certainly your color.

You snort, “you could always let the moon do it’s thing.”

“That’s not even funny.”

Pressing your chin against the back of his shoulder you say, “Wanna give me a little snarl or something?”

Hector sends you a pointed look as you trail one hand up to twist one of his damp curls, “Oh Granny, what pretty curls you have.”

“All the better for you to tug my dear,” Hector begins to play along.

A smirk makes its way onto your red painted lips, “Oh granny, what a beautiful face you have.”

“All the better for you to,” Hector starts before quickly twisting his body to yank you tight against his body, “sit on.”

You see the specs of ember swirling in Hector’s ink eyes now and you know you were pushing it as the length of his nails began to poke at the fabric of your red hood.

He then places a open mouthed kiss to your beating throat, “you didn’t say anything about my teeth.”

Standing up some with your hands locked around his neck now, you lean just a bit closer so that your forehead presses against Hector’s; you reply just as some knocks sounded at your closet door, “Now that’s satire.”

Hector let’s out a small laugh as you untangle yourself from his grasp to get the door, making a show of pointing the makeup artists in his direction only.

With your confidence in him and against the full moon, Hector can’t help but to shrug his shoulders and take a seat peeking at the face he got used to over the years. Somehow even this skin felt different and not just the scars embedded.

He just hoped you were right but knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Well…here’s to a new change of course for Halloween! That might actually be terrifying but as long as he had you on his team, his doubts and speculations from outsiders—which he used to be—didn’t seem to matter as much anymore.

₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

[empresskadia]

An Uplifting John Post

Inside the debriefing room, the hum of electronic screens casting a pale glow over metallic surfaces, John sat isolated at one end of a long, sleek table. His fingers traced the cold metal, the MIRAGE armor standing ominously by the corner—its metallic-green sheen almost mocking in the silence. Across from him, the leaderboard flickered, relentless in its truth. His name anchored at the bottom, a constant reminder of his perceived inadequacies among the Spartan-IIs.

The door hissed open, and Fred entered, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “Still staring at those numbers, John?” he asked, pulling up a chair with a scrape that echoed slightly in the sterile room.

John’s gaze lingered on the screen before meeting Fred’s. “It’s hard not to. Every number, every stat… they tell a story, Fred. Just not the one I’d hoped for,” he replied, his voice a blend of resignation and defiance.

Fred chuckled softly, leaning back. “You know, numbers aren’t the whole story, Chief. They’re just… part of the narrative.”

John scoffed lightly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one ranked lowest. You didn’t lose every training match or get disqualified for not playing by the rules,” he said, his words tinted with a hint of bitterness.

“I didn’t save the universe either,” Fred countered, his tone serious now. “You did that. Not us. Not the ‘top ranked’ Spartans. You, John.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Fred’s words hanging between them. John’s eyes drifted back to his armor. “I wear this,” he gestured towards the MIRAGE-IIC, “because I need it. It’s the best because I’m… not.”

“Or,” Fred interjected, “it’s the best because you are. Because you can handle it. John, we might outshoot you or outrun you in drills, but none of that compares to what you’ve done in the field. You think strategically, you adapt. You survive. And more importantly, you make sure others do too.”

John’s gaze softened, reflecting a conflict of pride and insecurity. “Maybe. But it’s not the Spartan way, is it? The others, they don’t need gadgets or tricks. They’re just… better.”

Fred stood up, his chair scraping softly against the floor. He walked over and placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder. “Listen, the ‘Spartan way’ is about getting the job done. It’s about protecting humanity, whatever it takes. And you’ve done that more times than I can count. So who cares if you’re not the best shot? You have something none of us can match, John. You’ve got heart. And that’s what saved us all.”

John looked up, meeting Fred’s gaze. There was a spark in his eyes, a flicker of resolve. “Thanks, Fred. I… needed that.”Fred smiled, giving John’s shoulder a squeeze. “Anytime, Chief. Remember, it’s not about how you start, it’s how you finish. And by my count, you’re finishing on top every time.”

As Fred walked towards the door, he paused and turned back. “Oh, and John? Next time we spar, go easy on me, will you? I might outrank you on that board, but we both know who the real threat is when it comes to a real fight.”

John chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders as he watched Fred leave. Alone once more, he turned his attention back to the leaderboard, but this time, the numbers seemed less daunting. They were just numbers, after all. And he was Master Chief, the man who saved the universe. That was something no leaderboard could ever truly capture.

AHHHHHH

AHHHH

AHH-

THE JOHN AND FRED CONTENT

kfjvedvue

I'm having a moment, they are just cuties *insert crying face*

[baka-monarch]

xD here you go

Also those stats are not lookin good–its neck and neck xD

(dhejekejdjeh I mean I still like Awesamdream so it's fine if they win, plus I don't really expect prime boys to win, either way it seems fun to do this- so now I'll write you a thing I guess :3 )

Dream scampered across the floor, his bag swinging around and thumping against his side painfully but he couldn't slow down, not now, not with a cat chasing after him. As a mouse hybrid there were many dangers in the world, especially if you choose to gnaw a hole to live inside of someone larger's walls. Dream knew these dangers well and always kept an eye out for them when moving- but this time he somehow missed the glaring detail that a cat lived here; the yellow feline itself was currently chasing him through the house, hissing, and glaring at him with it's blue eyes.

All Dream needed to do was to get to any of the holes he'd chewed into the walls here- but every time he was close the cat pounced and blocked his path. He was running out of options and out of time as he steadily grew more and more tired. Mice have good endurance but he couldn't exactly run forever, and he could already feel his legs tingling, about ready to give out under him.

Dream spotted another hole and turned to make a dash for it, but he really had been running for too long, because as soon as he moved his body to turn he tripped on his own tired legs and collapsed onto the floor painfully. Not long after that he could hear the cat's pip paping of paws approaching him and he knew it was over. Out of all the ways he thought he'd go he'd always hoped it wouldn't be a cat, or at least he'd be able to put up a fight if it was; but with how exhausted he was he couldn't move let alone fight as he felt and heard the cat sniffing him from behind.

It was over for Dream....

The little mouse closed his eyes as he felt a warm breath that smelled like cat food envelope him, and prepared to be bitten into....

To his surprise however, he was gently lifted up by the back of his hoodie. He looked down to the floor below confused and saw the cat's legs and paws below him. So they were holding him, but why not eating? His question was far from answered as the cat started running off again, taking Dream with it somewhere upstairs.

Dream could do nothing more than watch as the cat brought him into an unfamiliar bedroom then hopped up onto a bed where it dropped Dream down onto the blanket unceremoniously.

"Oof-" The mouse huffed as he landed, then pushed himself up to turn to look back at the cat- who was staring at him with it's face literally in his own. "Uuuhhhhh hi cat?" He asked as he scooted back away from the fairly scary face and started looking around the room, trying to think of something other than the predator that probably just wanted to play with him more before finally eating. "When did this room get here...?" The mouse wondered aloud, still ignoring the cat for now.

"It's always been here." A voice spoke up and Dream froze. None of the humans were supposed to be home yet, and when Dream looked at the bedroom door no one was there. He tried to keep looking for the source of the voice but didn't get far as he was picked up by his tail, a fearful squeak being ripped from his throat. "Heeeyyy over here little guy!" It was the voice again, and as Dream was spun around he found the source finally- there was a large person behind him, they looked like a skinny teenage boy with curly blond hair and blue eyes- and cat ears.

"O- oh!" Dream squeaked. Oh... A cat person... Literally. The teen chuckled and tossed Dream into the air, ignoring how he shouted before catching him.

"Hmm, I think I'll call you squeaks since you squeak y'know!" The teen laughed again as he pet Dream's hair and the little mouse shivered.

"Wh- what? Who-" Dream started to ask but didn't get far before he was dropped onto the cat's pillow with another pained squeak.

"I'm Tommy, Tommy Danger Kracken Innit!" The teen introduced himself as Dream struggled to push himself up on the squishy pillow. "Now, who are you really and why are you in my house mousey?" Just as Dream got up he was pushed over again by a massive finger.

"I- I'm Dream..." He stuttered out. "And uh- well uh-" Well shit if he told this kid he lived in the walls he might actually be eaten. "I was just passing by....?"

"Uh-huh, sure, inside someone else's house?" Dream gulped as he watched the cat's tail wave around in annoyance.

"Y- yeah! It was uh- it was cold I just- I just needed to warm up for a second before heading home!" He lied, shivering as he looked up at the cat's glowing blue eyes.

"You were cold out there eh?" Dream nodded, even though he could tell the cat didn't believe him. "Alright!" The cat smirked, showing off rows upon rows of terrifying fangs. "Then why not stay a bit longer? Warm up some more! I even have somewhere to keep you very warm..." The cat growled and Dream held back a whimper.

"N- no no I- I couldn't-" Dream started to frantically say, trying to think of any reason why he'd need to leave, and flinched when the cat barked out into loud laughter.

"Oh my gosh you mice are so weird!" Tommy kept laughing, "Did you actually think I'd eat a person?" Dream froze and looked into their blue eyes for any sign this was a trick, and when he didn't find any he nodded. "Wow, guess it's true about what they say with you little guys and anxiety." Tommy rolled his eyes which only confused Dream more.

"S- so.... You're uh... You're not going to eat me?" He looked up at Tommy hopefully and flinched again when he started giggling.

"Nah, I'm really not into eating other hybrids- feels all morally wrong and all that bullshit." The teen shrugged and scooped Dream up in his hands. "Plus it was fun to play with you today, it's pretty fucking boring here alone." Dream held onto Tommy's thumb as the kid started carrying him somewhere. "Would you mind playing a bit of cat and mouse again some time?" Tommy smiled that same toothy smile that sent a shiver down Dream's spine.

"I- if you don't scare me a- again..." He stuttered out, and sighed in relief when the cat nodded in understanding.

"That's fair, I think I went a biiiit to far this time anyways-" Tommy giggled when Dream nodded. "Either way, I think this is what you were trying to get to?" The cat gently set Dream down in front of one of his holes, and Dream finally actually calmed down. He was being let go- they were being honest.

"Y- yeah uh- thanks?" He took a step into the hole, happy to be back in the darkness.

"No, thank you for giving me some entertainment." The cat purred and Dream was glad that they weren't going to eat him again. "Before you go though, I should probably warn ya that the rest of my family will eat you though, so don't let your guard down stupid mouse-" Tommy pushed Dream into his hole with a ginger and Dream didn't argue before running off into the walls, planning to go home and maybe move.

[marmorafarms]

Hey hey hey! I'm back on my writing bull shit with a fanfic drabble from @14dayswithyou !

This features Angel (reader insert), Teo, and my OC Emma! I think both Teo lovers AND haters will enjoy this!

Minors do NOT interact. This piece is SFW, but the source isn't.

Enjoy!

~~~

Finals week was hell.

You sighed sadly, looking down at your textbook. It might as well be in a completely different language. No matter how many times you read the paragraph before you, you couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Looking across the library table, you spotted Emma. She was known for being a teacher's pet, though it was obvious why. Emma had a 4.0 that she had kept since her first day of college. She worked and went to school full time, and nobody could figure out how she did it.

Nervously, you cleared your throat. She lived on your floor, so you had spoken a few times. Maybe she could clear things up for you. You knew for a fact she had taken this class.

Emma didn't look up, so you stuttered out her name.

“Emma?”

She looked up from her work with a frown.

“Oh hey,” she said, clearly recognizing you.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly. She looked expectantly at you, and when you said nothing, a puzzled expression crossed her face.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

“Oh! Um. I'm having trouble with my stats class. I was wondering if you could explain something? But you don't have to!” you spluttered, holding your hands up. “I'm sorry to just spring that on you.”

Emma smiled softly. “It's fine,” she said. “I'm actually just here reading for fun. I have time.”

She slid over next to you, and was able to help clear things up. The two of you began to chat, and you found yourself enjoying her company immensely. The conversation shifted to nostalgic music, and since your corner was empty, she decided to find a song.

Or at least, you thought it was empty.

As she scrolled through her music, you spotted a familiar black and green haired man. He was wearing a muscle tee to show off his tattoos, and was leering at Emma.

Damn it Teo!

You felt a surge of anger shoot through you, and it must have shown on your face. Teo spied you and chuckled. He even had the gall to wink at you.

“I found it! It was at the end of my playlist,” Emma said, and hit play.

“Mambo Number 5?” you asked.

“It’s a classic!” Emma insisted.

It began to play, and after a moment, Teo began to saunter over.

A little bit of Monica in my life

A little bit of Erica by my side

A little bit of Rita's all I need

Teo was getting closer. Emma seemed unaware, other than one tell tale sign. Her grip on her mug of coffee was much stronger now.

A little bit of Tina's what I see

A little bit of Sandra in the sun

A little bit of Mary all night long

A little bit of Jessica, here I am

“A little bit of you makes me your man,” Teo said smoothly along with the song, biting his lip and leaning against the table.

In less than a second, Emma tossed her coffee into Teo’s face, a look of fury on hers. Surprisingly, Teo didn't get mad or walk away. He simply laughed.

“I knew you were warming up to me!” he said, wiping his face with his hand. “You threw lukewarm coffee at me today instead of boiling!”

“Get out of here or I’ll beat your fucking ass!” Emma said, startling you. What was going on?

“There’s the fire I love,” Teo said, and Emma picked up her cup, looking like she was about to chuck it at him.

“See you tomorrow starshine. You can run, but you can't hide! I’ll get you. I always get what I want.”

“Not this time,” Emma hissed. Teo laughed again and turned on his heel, walking away from the two of you.

“Sorry,” she said, exasperated. “I got a bit angry.”

“A bit?” you said, eyebrows raising. “You threw coffee in Teo’s face!”

Emma froze and her eyes narrowed. “Teo?” she said. “So you're a friend of Teodore’s.”

“We used to date,” you admitted. “He’s an ass.”

“But you’re friends with him.”

“Kind of…?” you said.

“I have to go,” Emma said suddenly, and began gathering her things. “Goodbye.”

You sighed sadly as you watched her go. Great, your budding friendship had just died. All thanks to that asshole.

Why did Teo have to ruin everything for you?

[kmenkea]

Bloodlust - Part 2

Summary: For once, Astarion and Leeith are away from fights and constant danger, so of course they would use this time to rob a small shop together, as friends do! so while Shadowheart and Lae'zel are away, doing some dirty job, the vampire and the drow have their fun among the druids of the grow. Astarion realises this is also the perfect moment for his proposition. Mostly fluff, character building and showing a slice of their life. A bit of flirting and innuendos (and chapter 4 will be a proper smut)

A/N: I've been told by my beta reader that sometimes some details might be missed if you haven't played or are familiar with the game. I'm not sure this is something I care too much about fixing tbh, but I would say that as long as you have a general idea, you should be fine.

Also, as always, I'm open to all kinds of feedback, be it a mistake I didn't catch or if Astarion is too ooc or whatever.

Word count: 5.3k (wtf, when did I write this much. I wish writing a thesis was this easy)

Read on AO3

I didn't doodle anything for this entry of the fanfic, but I wanted to show my Tav's and Astarion's matching fit from the start of the game. (I've got Minthara's armour now and he's got a slutty crop top with funny boots, but the stats are just too good to care about style)

Attention spoilers for act 1 and a bit of 2

Leeith and all her companions were sitting in a circle on the ground, a map sprawled in front of them, with various heavy objects pinning the edges: Lae’zel’s sword, a bottle of wine, other trinkets, some were scattered around, indicating where they were and some places of interest around the region. Their best bet was finding this Karlach Wyll and some others had spoken about. Slay her if she proves dangerous… though what Wyll defined as evil, could have very well been one of her allies. The drow had taken the decision to avoid the blighted village for the time being, concentrating on exploring as much as she could before jumping head first into a cove of goblin. They might have been weak when alone, but she wasn’t sure of how many there were around and she didn’t want to find out anytime soon, not through direct approach at least. She had only edged on that area, noticing not only bodies lining the streets, but also archers atop the roofs. Encircling them from the north was going to be a lot safer and less expected. But first, they needed supplies and to take care of some matters. 

“Gale, Wyll. Gather supplies for camp. We’re running low.” She didn’t even look up, moving a small stone on the map. 

“Oh, again? When will we be allowed to join in? I’m tired of being a maid.” Erupted Gale, slamming his hands on the ground. 

“You will once I’ll be in need of a wizard. Besides, I need someone to defend our belongings here at camp. Some of the children of the grove seem to have taken a liking to robberies.” She turned her face to Shadowheart and was about to speak, but Wyll interrupted.

“They’re just children, Leeith. It’s probably a game.” The drow was about to explain her reasoning, when Gale, almost screaming, barged in the conversation.

“Will you have us defend the camp from children? That’s ridiculous, most don’t plot or scheme from birth like your people.” The drow looked up from under her brow, staring at him with a gaze that could petrify bears. 

“You know the reputation of my people well, don’t you? Then you’d do your best not to make me repeat myself.” The wizard huffed and got up. Wyll looked between the two and, with a sigh, ran after him. 

“Good, he is gone. Wizards cannot be trusted.” Hissed Lae’zel, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know. We shouldn’t anger him or have him on our bad side. We need all the help we can get to deal with this and wizards are powerful people.” Shadowheart shook her head in disapproval. 

“I am not so sure I trust him. The man is too full of himself, I’m afraid he might turn on us if a chance to gain more power presents itself.” Leeith took a deep breath, glad the situation was over. She hated having to deal with in-group fighting. She glanced at Astarion, giving him the chance to comment, but he was just staring blankly at the map. 

“Well, better keep planning. So-” Leeith took a moment to reorganise her thoughts. “Lae’zel and Shadowheart, without going at each other throats while I’m not there, I want you to deal with the druid’s corpse. What was her name, Nattie? I’d rather the druids didn’t find out we killed one of their own.” The drow remembered how that bitch tried to “cure” them. Ceremorphosis or not, she wasn’t going to let a tree fucker even think about killing her. 

“What should we do with the body? We can’t really drag it outside.” Whispered Shadowheart, looking over Gale and Wyll. 

“Feed it to a bear for all I care- actually don’t. The druids can speak with those.” Leeith massaged her temples, trying to think of a way for her companions to remain hidden in the middle of the whole settlement.

“That goblin cave.” Chipped in the Gith. “There was a tunnel connecting that room with a cave. We can enter from the outside, throw the body in there and come out from the same opening without even putting foot in the grove.” 

“That’s genius. Even if she’s found, the fault will go all to the goblins.” Leeith smiled, nodding in approval. “Astarion and I will also go gather some supplies. If it all goes well, we won’t even spend a silver. We’ll meet back in two hours, here.” She folded the map and put it back in her bag. From another pocket, she pulled out a few vials with a red liquid inside. She gave two to each of them. “I brewed these healing potions this morning. Hope you don’t need them.” They both collected their gift. Lae’zel sheathed her sword and, without one more word, began walking away. The cleric cursed and ran to catch up. The drow waited for both of them to be gone, fumbling stuff inside her backpack. Once out of sight, she took out a bigger vial, handing it out to Astarion.

“This is a much more potent brew. It will kick the wind out of you, but it’s almost strong enough to bring you back from the dead. I only had the ingredients for one, so don’t waste it.” The drow was back on her feet, offering her hand to the elf. 

“Maybe if you’ll give me enough my fangs will fall out and my heart beat again.” He accepted it and graciously stood up, light like a ballerina. “I assume you kept the lion’see share for yourself?” 

“No, I don’t plan on getting hit, I don’t need potions.” She walked towards the forest. “But if you tell me there’s a chance you’ll stop being a vampire, I’ll gladly take it back. I’d rather have you with fangs.”

“I see you're taking a liking to being bitten.” 

“No, I wouldn’t say so. My whole right shoulder hurts from yesterday night.” She extended her arm, unable to straighten it upwards past her head. “My reasons are my own.” she gave him a wink.

They walked quietly from that moment on, both taking great care in making as little noise as possible; both their ears attentive to any noise. This zone should have been safe from goblins or wild animals, but it didn’t hurt to stay on alert. As of now, the only thing they could hear was the chirping of birds: the drow listened in, but they weren’t speaking of anything that interested her, just of nests, berries, worms and annoying squirrels. The green foliage was casting its shade over them. The green tint wasn’t noticeable on her, but Astarion’s skin and hair blended with nature, capturing all its colours. Leeith remained in the shadows, annoyed at how strong the sun was, how it made her eyes squint in pain and her cheeks burn. The vampire was scared of it, flinching when a strong ray of light hit his eyes, worried that at any time he could turn to dust. But then he’d look up and smile, enjoying the warmth hitting his face. The light of the sun looked pretty on him, bouncing off his perfectly sculpted curls; it was so hard to believe he hadn't seen it in more than two centuries. 

They were nearing the main path now, soon they would have seen the gate that divided the grove from the rest of the world. The first thing they felt was the stink of rotting carcasses. Walking closer, one could see the corpses of the goblins they had slaughtered still lingered on the sides. The druids didn't care enough to bring them somewhere else since the whole place would shut down soon; the tieflings weren't going to do anything for the people that wanted them gone. 

The pair waited a few seconds while the guards lifted the gate up. Some tieflings smiled at them as they went about their day, bowing their heads in respect to the people that saved them. She ignored them and turned right towards a lift. 

“Leeith, the merchant is that way.” The vampire pointed down the main street, both his eyebrows were raised in a dumbfounded expression. 

“Thank you for explaining the obvious. I want to visit someone first.” She urged him to follow her. “It flashed in my mind just now.” 

“I hope you don’t get more of these unplanned flashes in the future.” They jumped on the wooden platform and, after some threatening sounds of broken machinery, they reached the grove where the ritual was taking place. The ancient humming of druids was powerful. They could feel the magic on their skin, making their hair stand up. Even the nature around them was greener, attracted by the chanting, every living being fused together by the spell. It felt like one slip of the mind would have united them with everything around them, forever lost to the forest. She shivered and walked forward, focusing on her breathing and the rocks below her, shielding her ears from the song of nature.

They walked past the lift, following a broken down path towards the beach. That was their destination. It was a small little bay surrounded by cliffs, barely large enough to fit four people standing side by side. Some dead fish were on the sand and, more importantly, a bear. Leeith had talked to him once before, but couldn’t go to visit him again since time was strict, always running from one fight to the other. Finally, after days of obligations and chores, she had the perfect excuse for a day off. The animal was lying down, head between his arms, barely acknowledging her presence.

“I don’t think we should walk up to a bear.” Hissed Astarion quietly, grabbing her elbow. “Are you mad?” 

“Shh. Stay back, alright. It will be fine.” She freed herself and, after taking a few steps, kneeled down on the sand. 

“Hey.” Her voice was soothing as she whispered to the bear. “How are you doing, friend?” The bear looked back at her, raising his ears. 

“Still nothing… still nothing.” Cried the bear, shaking his large head. Leeith extended her hand, but the animal withdrew, groaning a warning. 

“He’ll be back I’m sure.” Leeith glanced at Astarion, waiting behind her with a hand on his crossbow, ready to fire. She glared at him and pointed at the weapon, urging him to stop.

“No… the woods have gone dark. There's too many predators lately - even for master.” The bear hid his face again. “He’ll never be back.” The drow moved a bit closer, scratching the animal behind the ear. He didn’t respond, his grief too strong to bite her hand or enjoy the pet. She let out a sigh of defeat yet again, and scooted away before the beast could snap. Leeith had figured out that the master he was talking about was probably the first druid that was missing and everyone wanted back. She wanted more information about the guy and, more importantly, what he could do - or would do - if they did save him. On top of that, she would hate to leave the poor animal sad like this. Slowly, She stood up and walked backwards, putting some distance between her and the bear. 

“We can go. I just wasted time.” Mumbled the drow, annoyed that the bear didn’t tell her anything. 

“Who would have thought talking to a bear wasn’t the best of flashes.” Complained Astarion, marching past her. “I’ll be directing this affair now, less you go and start chatting with every spider in this forest.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, elf. Animals can be where they want, no one caring about their presence, overhearing the most important of discussions. My queen used her abilities to talk to spiders, that’s how she managed to rule for centuries in the underdark: she knew who in her court was going to go against her first.” She paused her rant, turning her face to one side in a frown. “Not this bear but… few things tug at my heartstrings like animals and beasts.” She murmured on her shoulder.

"Aw, a drow with a big fuzzy heart. How cute. Just like a tarantula."  He placed a hand on his heart. Leeith scoffed, letting the argument fall. She didn't want to say that one of the reasons she enjoyed the vampire’s friendship was because he reminded her of a feral cat that everyone threw rocks at. 

Swallowing her pride, she got close to his side again to go over their plan and make sure everything was ready. The lift was still as shaky as they moved upwards. No matter how convenient it seemed, she was not going to use it anymore. Her legs were worth much more than the five minutes she would save by not walking. In any case, they were near their destination now.

"Good luck, blood sucker." She slapped his shoulders and casted a guidance spell, then he moved away, slipping unnoticed in the shadows. Leeith entered the cave system. Every object was covered in a thin layer of brown dust, from all the feet and tails kicking the ground. The waterfalls were a constant grumble in her ears, deafening almost. The voices of the people couldn't hope to surpass the noise, no matter how many there were. It almost reminded her of home, with that humid air and low light. The only thing missing were the horrible screeches of an unknown animal coming from the blackest recesses. Not that there wasn't anything to fear, mostly those children, eyeing everyone's purse and the merchant, after the same prize. Though, It was going to be a very unlucky day for the halfling. 

The drow moved closer with a smile. There was a small group of tieflings stocking up on supplies and trying to sell off some of their scraps. The merchant was bored of hearing them banter, trying to lock him in an unfavourable deal. It was the first time in her life that someone smiled upon seeing her. 

"Ahh, my favourite customer, how can I be of help?" He opened his arms and showed an earnest smile. The tieflings scoffed at her for having cut the line. She eyed them, almost about to ignore them, but this many eyes around would have proved a challenge even for the rogue. 

"Look at me another time and I'll be sure to find out if tiefling tails regrow like lizards." She placed a hand on her rapier, and motioned them to go away. Most of the group started walking away, but one of them moved forward, unsheathing his sword. Before anything could happen, the halfling stepped in.

"Hey, hey. I don't want blood spilled here. I'm sure she'll be quick and then I'll be back to you, ok?" He said at the tiefling, as his companions were trying to make him move away. He spit on the ground, at the drow's feet, then turned around. Leeith was seconds away from blasting his head off, but she remembered about Astarion. 

"I need new weapons. This simple steel we carry is starting to prove weak." She said, pointing towards a rack, where some weapons glowed with magic. 

"Of course. This is what remains of my finest stock." He walked there with a smile and turned towards her. She looked at her surroundings: no, from here the merchant would have seen Astarion. She needed to be behind the rack, so that he wouldn't need to turn around to his counter. Leeith moved forward, caressing the swords and axes gingerly. She lifted one up.

"What does this do?" As the merchant started to explain all the blade's greatest property and enchantments, the drow glanced past him. There was the vampire, silent as a cat. No one was around to observe what he was doing and, to the tieflings dwelling deep in the cave, he would have looked just like any other customer, interested in the wares the halfling was peddling. 

"So are you interested?" He said, capturing her attention again.

"Not really, it doesn't fit my friend's style. I need something more brutal. She uses a shield though, so nothing that cannot be wielded with one hand." Responded the drow, bored. The merchant kept going about a nice dagger he had. 

Astarion was grabbing everything he could, shoving potions down his backpack and promptly substituting them with empty bottles and vials. He was very interested in the arrows the man was selling, so he switched them with some normal arrows. 

"Is that more to your style?" Interrupted the merchant again. 

"No, a dagger is very much too small. I need something like a hammer."

"Oh I've got the perfect one, just behind my counter, let me pick it up." He pointed behind himself with a thumb, then his heel started turning. Panic washed over her for a moment, as Astarion was still well in view. Without thinking, she hit a spear off the rack, so that it fell between them. The halfling kneeled to pick it up, looking at the drow confused.

"Sorry, it just grabbed my attention. I miscalculated the trajectory of my hand." She chuckled, grabbing back the spear. "Could you tell me what this does?" Astarion was nowhere to be seen. He had fled faster than a scared cat. Hopefully he managed to grab something of value. 

"Well, this is actually a… normal spear. It's a fine spear, but it doesn't hold any enchantments." Explained the halfling. 

"Uh, I guess the glow just came from the stuff around it. Have you got any light armour?" She asked at last. 

"Yes actually, this blue gambeson will serve you well. It's protected with magic." 

"How much for it?" 

"Two hundred gold, last one in stock."

"Mh, a hundred fifty. You wouldn't be here peddling your swords without my group saving your ass at the gate." She touched the gambeson, testing its quality.

"I… one and seventy, I can't go lower." 

"Alright, I don't have the time to fight over coppers." While she counted the money, she whistled to grab the attention of the group of tieflings. If the merchant was occupied, he wouldn’t have noticed some of his wares missing. "Oi devils, I'm done here, you can come back!" She screamed. They looked at her suspiciously. 

"Aye! All yours again!" Added the halfling, pocketing the gold. The group moved back in only when Leeith went away. 

The rendezvous point was the path behind the grove, which led to a beach. They had fought some harpies back there once, but otherwise it was quiet and, more importantly, isolated. She proceeded forward in the caves: at least the sun wouldn’t have burnt her skin nor was there a risk getting stuck on that damned wood contraption. She passed in front of the tiefling child that had tried to scam them with a fake magic ring. Leeith winked at him and raised her thumbs, mockingly. The child scoffed and almost growled, remembering  how the drow had stolen his ring as “lesson”. She would have loved to stop and teach him how to properly burglarise and pickpocket, mostly just to rub in his face that she had just sacked the halfling. She picked up the pace a little, still trying not to look suspicious. The drow wasn’t as good as Astarion at slipping between shadows, but her feet were still light and fluid enough to go by. She passed the columns that marked the exit: on the right there was a bard, Alfira or something,  the path on the left instead sloped down towards the sea. After a quick glance behind her, she followed it. 

Upon arrival on the shore, she didn't see him. Her eyes scanned the harpy feathers still around and the clear waters, with no sign of the vampire. She turned around, sure that he just hadn't arrived yet, but a glimmer, like sun on snow, captured her eyes. There he was, standing high on a small hill, dagger in hand. He smiled, showing his fangs. 

"You should pay more attention. I was ready to stab anyone coming in." He rolled the knife between his fingers. She couldn't mask her uneasiness.

"Good luck explaining that to everyone else. I don't think they'd look at you too kindly anymore." She raised her voice lightly. 

"True. Few people are as willing as you to trust a vampire." Astarion hid the dagger, then jumped down to her. "This is all I got." He opened his backpack to show many arrows imbued with elemental magic, two or three scrolls and vials of potions or poisons. It wasn't the best loot she’d ever got, but the merchant wasn't carrying much more and they didn't really have a discreet way to carry around a maul.

"It's not a great heist, but we'll make do." She reached into her own backpack. "I bought this for you. Your clothes might look fancy, but I'd rather have them stop blades." The drow showed him the light blue gambeson she had. Astarion smirked and, after taking out a few bottles, he showed her an exact copy of the armour.

"Seems like yours wasn't the last in stock." He said, comparing the two. "I suppose I won't need to give you your money back since I got one on my own." 

"I wouldn't have wanted them back anyway. Guess I'll just use it for myself." She shrugged and stuffed it in her backpack. "We'll wear matching outfits, so you won't complain about my fashion sense anymore." She smirked. 

“Tks, please. The only thing you can give me that I wouldn't complain about is drow armour, that does look stylish.” 

“If we ever go to the underdark, I promise to get you one. But,” She grinned and began walking away. “I’ll go to my house and get my band leader armour, from when I was in service. You’ll be just one step below me, as it should be, surface dweller.” They bickered for a bit more, both insulting each other’s skills and lineage, in a way that could pass as flirting only in the underdark.

“Knowing your people, you probably were a leader only because you’re a woman.” Said the vampire at last. 

“And? Yes, I admit, part of the reason I was a squad leader was because I’m a woman, but don’t think I was sitting comfortably at home while shit went down. My rank wasn’t high enough for that.” Her memories went back to those ominous caves and dirty streets, when she had to dodge daggers at every step. Home.

“I imagined an officer would know how to use a sword a bit better than you.” He pointed at the rapier in her scabbard, which to this day had been left unused.

“Your first mistake was thinking I was an officer. I am a-” She stopped, not knowing how much to say. This wasn't something she wanted to share willy-nilly, not even to him. “Let’s say I was in a criminal ring. I operated very much outside of standard law and needed better skills than sword fighting.” She raised her hand, conjuring a small amount of magic. “My commander gave me powers and I pleased her enough to make me a leader.” 

“And now that you’re finally free of your boss, you can bark orders at us. How sweet.” 

Freedom. It was a strong word he had used. She wasn’t free here. She was supposed to be back. The queen was surely searching for her now. Was the tadpole protecting her from being found, like Astarion? Or was the queen just waiting for the perfect moment to strike and bring her back. The thoughts hurt her head and her anxiety was spiking up. All of this was horrible. The sun hurt her eyes once more. Shit. The drow clenched her fists and jaw. She was going to be back. She had to. All she needed was strength and Lolth’s favour. Fear wasn’t going to twist her heart once more. Her queen had freed her from fear.

“Take my spot if you want. Believe me, staying on top of everything and everyone sucks. Plan rations, plan paths, plan actions, plan strategy… augh. I thank the Spider Queen everyday for making me one of her daughters, because at least I don’t need to waste time sleeping.” 

“I think that’s just called being an elf, I don’t sleep either.” He grabbed her shoulders and hunched down to her ear. “Don’t worry, I would be a fine and benign master to you.” He hummed. The drow didn’t flinch, nor redden, though the prospect did sound enticing and, in all fairness, sent a shiver straight down to her core. 

“You’ll have to fight for the title, prove that you’re stronger and better than me… times and times again. Backstabbing is second nature where I’m from.” She turned around to face him, pointing his own dagger at his throat. “You should pay more attention.” She gave the knife back from the handle. 

“HA! Haha! A dangerous brat, I see. Makes it more exciting.” He put the dagger back under his doublet. The drow studied his face, but his intentions were safely hidden behind a pompous smirk. They stared into each other's eyes for a while. The sound of the waves falling, breaking on the shore filled their ears. Leeith started to grow uneasy, her heart skipping a beat. She was drowning in those waves, her mind lost forever to the waters. Her feet were unsteady, the tension on her shoulders growing and threatening to make her fall. Astarion clearly wanted to say something, the way his lips were slightly parted. Had she done something wrong? She took a half a step back but, quick as a swatting cat, his hand grabbed her wrist. She wanted to pull away, half expecting to get punched in the gut, but… his touch was extremely soft, more like a caress. 

“You’re a cheeky pup, are you not?” With that, the tension was broken. Leeith breathed a sigh of relief, until a realisation set in. 

“Cheeky pup?” She repeated, bewildered. "I've been called many things: slut, brat, mistress, mommy by one weird guy, but cheeky pup? And here I thought you were about to stab me." She giggled for a bit, covering her mouth with one hand. The elf sucked on his teeth, looking down with a somewhat irritated, but amused, expression.

"I might just call you that more, it fits better than expected.” His eyes lingered on her body, with a gaze that spoke of one thing: desire. She knew it all too well, for the same was written in her eyes. 

“I quite liked blood sucker, but I’ll have to find something else. Pet, maybe?” Continued the drow, in an effort to regain her territory and dominion over the conversation. Astarion wasn’t having it, instead both of his hands lingered on her forearms, moving down the palms of her hands. Fuck it, what did she have to lose from letting go of pride for once? 

“You know, darling, I’ve been thinking more and more about you. Remembering our time together, the things we shared - and I don't mean just that lovely neck of yours.” His index flew upwards, tickling her throat with a soft touch. “I’m growing to like the whole package, honestly, and you clearly like me too, so…” 

“So…” She raised her eyebrow; her face was anything but timid. 

“Come now, don’t be coy. Your body has already given you away.” He leaned down, so that his lips were barely brushing against Leeith’s ear and neck, grabbing her elbows so that she couldn’t move away. 

“I could feel it, you know? As I was getting lost in your neck, your little shakes of excitement.” His fangs barely scraped the skin, earning an exhale from the drow. “You enjoyed it, didnt you?” 

Her thoughts went to that night, when she was awakened by a shadow suddenly looming over her during the trance. The revelation of him being a vampire wasn't particularly mind blowing - the only thing the guy was missing was a long bat-like cape -, but it was welcomed. Vampires were as feared in the underdark as in the surface: she would have been able to go a lot higher in the ranks with a creature that powerful to help her. 

What she wasn't expecting was the rush of adrenaline that followed the bite. Blood. That was blood. Not of a rat or other beast, but real sentient blood. It filled his mouth and throat so sweetly, like an avalanche of honeyed wine. His mind, his body, all was getting clear as more and more red poured from the drow's veins straight on his tongue. Gods that was spectacular. He wanted to run, fight, gauge someone's eyes out with just his fingers. Pure power was cursing through his long dead veins for the first time in two centuries. He was at peace, content, he wanted to laugh and stare at the sun. Nothing around him existed; he had all that he needed and more. Yes, more. Why stop? He could have killed everyone at camp, satiate his hunger and be free forever. He bit harder and, like ripe grapes, more juice exploded in his mouth. Fear? What was that? He certainly wasn't afraid. He was on top of the fucking world! Fear. Red eyes looming below him, demanding to stop, reaching up to him. Cazador? No matter what, he was still here, still holding him hostage. The hand reached up again. It was pushing him away. He glanced down: the drow's red eyes were pale, half lidded. Dizziness and feebleness overtook him, as her grey hand didn't have the strength to hold onto his shirt anymore. The vampire let go, smiling. The drow's body was shaking under him. She panted heavily, coming down the same high he felt. 

The faintest of grins was on her lips when she finally sat up. The vampire was radiant in front of her. She was as blood-drunk as him, having felt his same emotions and thoughts for those few minutes; now they were turning fuzzy and dark, but still the excitement remained.

With a roll of her eyes, Leeith chuckled, returning to the present . She had enjoyed it greatly both the first and second time he had fed on her. “A lady never tells.” She responded, acting believably coy. 

“You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel, because I feel it too.” He let her go, straightening his back again to look in her eyes. “We could take an evening to ourselves, get away from camp - get some privacy. I know somewhere quiet, somewhere intimate. Somewhere we can… indulge in each other.” As he spoke, his voice got lower and more soothing. 

“A less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious.” An earnest smile painted her lips. She absolutely knew she had him in her grasp, but wasn’t expecting the pieces to fall her way so quickly. 

“Haha, thank goodness we’re all such good, trusting friends, then. On my honour, the only thing in my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He grinned, placing a hand on his chest as if to swear an oath.

“I suppose one night, no strings attached… that sounds good to me.”  

“Wonderful. I just hope we don’t have to wait too long before we can steal away.” The vampire whined, before returning to his hushed, sultry tone. “But once we can, I promise you a night you’ll never forget.” 

“Quite the big commitment. I hope you won't change your mind.” She crossed her arms 

“I wouldn’t dare. I told you, you deserve a reward. I am so very pleased with what you gave me.” Astarion got hold of her hand and raised it to his lips, placing a silky kiss on her knuckles. “Shall we go back, Lover?”

[callunavulgari]

Year in Fic | 2023

How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount?

This was a very, very depressing year for me fic-wise. I didn't think it was possible, but not only did I write less that I did last year, but I wrote SIGNIFICANTLY less than I did in 2022.

In 2023 I wrote 11 fics, for a total of 39,450 words. Which is uh, almost half what I did in 2022. And 2022 was a slow year for me. But! I will give myself a bit of grace considering I spent most of the year being neurotic about wedding planning.

Fic Roundup!

so damn sloppy | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 4,557 words | Steve smiles, leaning forward just a little bit, and is rewarded by the sight of Eddie swaying towards him as if hypnotized. “We gonna stop pretending that I’m here just for a movie?”

into the unknown | LoZ | Zelda/Ganondorf/Link | 8,017 words |  “What do you think, princess?” Ganondorf asks, cocking his head. “Would having your young knight here with us make the marriage bed more palatable?”

just a little bit closer, baby | Stranger Things | Chrissy/Eddie/Steve | 2,734 words | “He’s sure, Chrissy,” Steve says, voice warm.

Ghost Story | Stranger Things | Eddie/Steve | 2,559 words | Eddie wakes to darkness. 

mommy don’t know daddy’s getting hot | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 1,611 words |  “Just— Christ, Steve. Fuck me, already. Fill me up, put a baby in me or whatever weird hetero bullshit your brain has a boner for, just do it.”

the icarus to your certainty | Marvel | Loki/Thor | 1,687 words | “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?” Loki asks softly, his mouth twisted into a strange, sad little smile.

build your altar here | Star Wars | Reylo | 5,486 words |  When Leia had first offered up Ben’s condo as a place for Rey to stay while she got back on her feet, she’d foolishly assumed that it was some kind of subletting situation.

for years or for hours | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 1,677 words | “What the shit are you doing?” Mobius hisses, and Loki— Loki is tired.

touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 2220 words | “God,” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s mouth. “You look— I cannot deal with how you look right now.”

these, our bodies, possessed by light | Shades of Magic | Holland/Kell/Lila, Athos/Holland | 2,134 words | Holland tells her simply. “I want to go home.”

this house says your name like an elegy | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen/Xue Yang | 6768 words | “Good night, ghost,” he says. “We can play tomorrow.”

Best story I wrote this year:

In my opinion? into the unknown was the only fic that I was TRULY proud of this year. Which isn't to say that the others were awful, but into the unknown was my passion project of the year. I saw a thing on twitter that made my brain go ping, and I sat down and said, yknow what, I'm going to write political marriage Ganondorf/Zelda. And then, I went, yknow what would be great? If we added Link, poly, and a great heaping pile of yearning. And it was! Great that is! It was fun to write and I'm really glad that I put it out there.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Honestly, into the unknown IS probably my favorite - BUT! A very close second is for years or for hours, which I wrote after watching the Loki finale a totally chill amount of times. I couldn't get over the idea of Loki and those timeloops, how lonely it must have been. How he could technically have everything that he wanted and then wipe the slate clean again hours later. I was also planning on writing another Loki fic, one where Sylvie and Mobius end up hooking up and living? traveling? together AFTER, but it just hasn't happened yet. Two people fucking because they're yearning for the same third is just catnip to me.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

This is actually interesting because my stats are pretty wildly different for kudos vs hits. Normally they're at least in the same ballpark. BUT! for years or for hours was definitely my top fic as far as kudos go by a pretty wide margin, coming in 742 kudos, 217 bookmarks, and 2,397 hits. so damn sloppy (a title that i hated IMMEDIATELY after posting) comes in second when it comes to kudos at 239.

But! If you measure by hits- build your altar here, otherwise known as the excessively smutty reylo fic that i wrote actually comes in first. Which is... weird? But hey, what do I know. Numbers are bonkers.

Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

While I'm honestly always a little disappointed by the traffic my SXX Exchange and Yuletide fics get (I get it, they don't show up at the top of the page because they spend weeks unviewable before being revealed), I think my actual answer to this question is Ghost Story. It's one of the shorts that I did for my October challenge this year. 2.5k of Eddie waking up in the Upside Down undead, of him finding Steve's house and hesitating there on the threshold, of Vecna in his head, of him CHOOSING Kas as his own storyline, grasping at straws in the hopes that he'll be able to pull it off. I never go into something expecting kudos because that way lies madness, but I got... 11 kudos. No comments. And I don't know, that's always at least a little disappointing, but especially because I was proud of this one. I liked getting into Eddie's headspace in a horror setting. It was great! It was tragic! And I don't know, it just didn't get love. Such is life.

Most fun story to write:

Okay, so like. I wrote A LOT of smut this year. Almost every single fic that I wrote was either PWP, fix-it, or both. And almost every single one of them came easily (ha). The plot bunnies didn't fight me, they just happened. Which means that a lot of them were fun to write! The one where I got to work in Steve's breeding kink in the most hilarious way cracked me up. BUT! I got to write Steve/Chrissy/Eddie this year! I've been wanting to write it for ages and this year, for the first day of kinktober, I got to write Chrissy pegging Eddie while Steve fucks his face. That was just... an absolute dream.

Story that could have been better?

Maybe these, our bodies, possessed by light ? My Yuletide recipient's requests were of a crueltide variety. And I don't necessarily have an issue with writing that. I wrote it and I liked the end result, but where it comes down to it I'm still pretty uncomfortable writing non-con, even a character that is slowly healing from it. I do actually like how it ended. I think I conveyed what I wanted it to, the style was exactly what I was aiming for, I just haven't been able to shake the feeling that it could have been more. But if I'd made it happier or longer, I think I would have taken away from the point I was trying to make.

Story I wrote to fix things:

Definitely the icarus to your certainty. Some of the others are fix-its in the sense that certain characters are alive, others are fix-it fic not because they changed anything about the canon but because of the sense of catharsis. But the icarus to your certainty was a fic that I've been wanting to write for a while, one where Thor and Loki meet again. I've told this story a couple different ways since End Game, but this one feels more complete because I used TVA Loki. It wasn't just me talking out of my ass about suspected ways that Marvel could fix it, it was about the exisiting character meeting back up with a post-Love and Thunder Thor and going hey, I'm here, I'm not the same brother you watched die, but I'm still a Loki, I still miss you, I know what you lost. I did write it before watching the finale, so there's probably at least one more Thor and Loki reunion fic in me, but we'll see.

Longest completed fic this year:

into the unknown was my longest this year at just over 8k.

Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year:

The fandom that I wrote the MOST of was Stranger Things, because Steddie is still dogging me even now, more than a year later. And it is certainly the fandom that I enjoyed reading the most, but I also really loved playing in the Tears of the Kingdom sandbox.

Favorite character you wrote this year:

I did like writing Ganondorf in into the unknown a lot, but this pleasure has to go to Eddie. He's just so fun.

Most memorable comment(s) this year:

I really loved all the comments that I got on for years and for hours! The comments from my recipients for the SXX exchange and Yuletide were amazing! I got a comment on the Silena and Clarisse fic that I wrote well over a decade ago! I got an adorable comment on the monsterfucking fishsex one earnestly telling me to keep doing what makes me passionate, even if it's... yknow, fishsex.

But honestly, this comment that I got on Rubatosis takes the cake. It just completely blows my mind that even know, almost a decade after I wrote the fic, I am STILL getting comments on it. And not just the comments that other older fic of mine get, but comments that are so heartwrenchingly genuine, thanking me, weeping and happy about it. I actually did a reread of it after I got this comment and while I can see all the places that could be improved on, I'm just still so floored, so PROUD, that it's something that came out of my brain.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t:

I DO have an entire graveyard of fics in my googledocs that I've started and haven't finished but, in no particular order:

the steddie one where they hook up pre-series when steve is still king steve and eddie is dealing at one of his parties

the steddie hitchhiking one

the steddie coffee shop one that no one asked for

the gloryhole steddie fic from kinktober

ugh the akuroku farmer's market one about being punk and then getting older

the bodyswap geraskier one

the ust filled one-shot of Jericho and Sam Lloyd from the Diviners

the random plot bunny i got after reading hell bent where i wanted to write alex fucking darlington after the howling

the cnc sxx fic

the uh, vaguely necrophiliac sxx one because xue yang is a freak

the *cough* incest ship one where they find out they're related while fucking and neither stops (i may have entertained this as a han/luke/leia one-shot)

the alex/jonas oxenfree one that i wanted to write as a yuletide treat

the anastasia/dimitri one that i wanted to write as a yuletide treat

Oddest story:

god, probably the breeding kink one. mommy don't know daddy's getting hot. it's not even super intense! i just feel like eddie would be absolutely IMPOSSIBLE if he found out that steve had a breeding kink.

Hardest story to do:

I did fret about this house says your name like an elegy a little. I kept getting stuck describing the house and had to force myself past it.

Easiest story to write?

Again, most of the fics came pretty easily this year. build your altar here may have been the easiest? I'd just finished love theoretically by ali hazelwood and while i'd always known they were a reylo i didn't realize that i'd actually read some of their fic! anyway, read a couple reylo fics for nostalgia and then realized that i wanted to write a free use fic. All 5k of it came out in one sitting, it was nuts.

Most mining of your own history in one story:

I don't think any of them? I mean, maybe so damn sloppy if you count the fact that i've actually been in a family video before, but other than that? yeah, nothing.

Themes, or absence thereof:

A lot of smut, tbh.

Where did you publish/archive your stories?

Ao3, as per usual. I didn’t crosspost too much this year.

Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to:

i REALLY want to write the steddie ones that i didn't write this year, specifically the hitchiking and the pre-series one.

Sexiest moment (excerpt):

He fucks Eddie breathless. The corset isn’t helping, the pearls like a collar around his throat. He wants Steve’s hand in his hair, wants to be fucked until it hurts, but Steve is so gentle with him. 

There are tears in Eddie’s eyes when he finally surrenders, gasps quietly into the dark and says, “Please, harder.”

Steve doesn’t get a hand into his hair, but he does splay his palm out over the curve of Eddie’s throat, just under the pearls. The hold isn’t a tight one, his fingers loose enough that Eddie could slide right out of the grip if he wanted, but Eddie sobs a little, bucking up, wanting wanting wanting—

Steve fucks him harder. 

.

“Would you like to have him first, then?” Ganondorf asks her, a low whisper in her ear, and her legs clench tight around him, making them both groan as his cock jostles between them. 

“Please,” she says, and he makes a sound like a laugh, and pulls back, away, moving them so that he’s propped up against her headboard and she’s reclined against his front, her back hot where their skin touches.

Ganondorf makes an amused sound when Link hesitates, and his hands take hold of her hips and — mortifyingly — spread her legs open.

“Do you need me to tell you where it goes?” Ganondorf asks, almost conversationally, and Link narrows his eyes. 

It’s not— there was a moment, when she was younger, when she’d thought of this. Of what would happen if she could just take what she wanted. If she could have Link on his back in the hay of the palace stable or if he’d ever bear her down into the fragrant grass of Hyrule Field.

It was a silly dream. A girl’s dream. She’d never imagined this, her husband holding her open as Link pushes into her, but perhaps that was a good thing. She’d been an excitable girl.

He makes a noise when he first pushes into her that she’ll remember forever, even if they never get to do this again — a slight hitch in his breathing, like a hiccup, then a moan so soft it’s almost a whine. They are green, untested, so very new to this. She’s wanted this for so long and so hard that it doesn't even hurt. The rhythm is rocky and awkward when they start, but Ganondorf helps them find it quickly, his hands reaching out to steady Link's hips, coaxing him into a better pace.

It is perfect, even if it wasn’t what she’d dreamed. She gets to bury her face in his neck the way she’d wanted then, gets to hitch her legs up around his hips and clench him tighter, deeper, his fingers threaded with hers.

But it is over too fast, and her eyes are wet when he goes still inside of her. It’s too much. It’s not enough. 

Ganondorf gives them a minute, lets her shake, lets Link breathe. She hadn’t expected patience from him, but then, there’s a great many things about this night that she hadn’t expected.

“Okay,” she tells him when Link is collapsed backwards beside them, watching with hazy eyes as Ganondorf turns her to face him. His cock is between them, hard against her belly, and it’s so big that for a moment, she wonders if she’s ready for it. She can feel Link’s spend licking the insides of her thighs and knows that Ganondorf can feel it too. 

She looks at Ganondorf, chin held high, and says, “I’m ready.”

He is big.

His cock inside of her is such a tight fit that her breathing goes ragged as he’s fitting it into her. She’s sweating all over and it’s so much that she worries it will break her, that she’ll never be the same again. Link had felt good inside of her, a perfect fit, no pain, just frissons of pleasure up and down her spine as he moved inside of her, but this — this is nearly too much.

“It’s okay, princess,” Ganondorf tells her, petting her back once he’s completely inside. “You did good.”

.

Against all odds, the noise is what wakes her. She would have thought— well, she would have thought that she’d have woken to other things. The gentle rocking of the bed. The weight on her hips. Rey had assumed that if anything were to wake her, it would have been that first slow press inside her — her body yielding slowly to the blunt press of him between her legs. 

However it happened, the noise is what wakes her. She surfaces slowly, first latching onto the sound of the rhythmic thumping of the headboard striking the wall over and over again before her brain wakes enough to take note of the rest of it. 

She’s warm, that’s the second thing that she notices. Most of the time, Rey wakes with her fingers and toes freezing, and she’ll have to spend the first thirty minutes of her morning huddling for warmth beneath her blankets. This morning though, she’s overly warm, her blood already running hot, her chest and belly slick with sweat.

That’s when the rest of the details come to her. The heavy breathing above her. The warm sticky skin pressed to the bare stretch of her back. The creaking of the bed. Her own shallow breathing, little noises escaping her even as her brain comes fully back online. And of course, the feeling of a cock stretching her wide. She must have been wet, she thinks hazily, still halfway between waking and dreaming. Had she been dreaming? Or had he put his mouth on her before he’d bullied his way inside? They hadn’t really discussed the mechanics beforehand, only their wants and limitations. She’d wanted this, she remembered confessing. This specific thing, mentioned in the late hours of the night, her face flushed.

But he’d done it. She hadn’t thought that he would.

She’s still sluggish, but her body is already lighting up from the touch. Already awake and responsive, even as Rey starts to slowly stretch, her toes curling against the sheets as her palms scrabble for a grip to ground her. Ben rocks into her again, a particularly deep thrust, and a noise punches out of her, shocked and urgent.

She hears a chuckle from above her, and then his mouth is dropping to press against the sharp blade of her shoulder, lips dragging indulgently across her skin.

“Good morning,” he whispers, his own voice gritty with sleep. She whines under him, her fist finally getting a hold on the sheets, and he laughs at her openly, rewarding her with a particularly ruthless grind of his hips, pressing so deep that she rocks forward into the pillows.

He works a hand into her hair, and she’s— god, it’s so much so fast that she’s actually dizzy from it, so when he drags her up to her knees, she’s reeling, wobbly like a newborn animal. Her breath catches in her throat, her stomach tensing as he slides his palm down to cradle the shallow dip of her pelvis.

She doesn’t have to enjoy it, that wasn’t part of the bargain. The deal was anytime, anywhere— within reason, of course. She’d thrilled at the idea of it, imagining him bending her over the back of the couch, over the kitchen counter, imagined crawling into his lap during one of his shitty zoom calls and having him like that, where any one of his sleazy corporate overlords could hear her panting for him if he decided to unmute them.

She hadn’t thought that this would be his first move on the chessboard, that less than 24 hours after shaking on it she would wake to him inside of her, stretching her wide, the very first thing that she’d told him she wanted.

Anything, though. And just because she hadn’t imagined this happening the morning after they discussed it does not mean that she can’t enjoy it. 

He fucks her hard and fast after that, as if her coming awake beneath him has made him desperate for it. Her scalp aches under his grip, but the pull is a good one. She’s wet and aching, his cock so good, pressing so deep— she’d forgotten what it was like, what he could be like. 

She makes a noise, something quiet and pleased, and he must like it because he moans for her, his grip turning harsher, his thrusts more punishing. She wants to ask him for it, wants to tell him harder, but he hasn’t said that she can talk yet, so she bites her lip and holds on for dear life.

He comes inside her, letting out a long and guttural groan, his hips pressed flush against hers.

She’s trembling and she doesn’t want him to pull out yet, wants to come with him still inside her, but doesn’t—

“Touch yourself,” he tells her, his voice strained, cock still buried to the hilt inside her. She lets out a breathless little sob, already reaching, and it barely takes more than the press of her thumb to her clit before she’s coming, so hard that knees go out from under her. She bites down hard on her pillow to muffle the helpless little keen that makes its way out of her. 

Crackiest moment (excerpt):

Eddie is giving him shit when it happens. It’s been a little over a half hour since Eddie turned to him, bored and pouty about it, and asked if Steve wanted to fuck him.

“Obviously,” Steve could pretend that he’d replied, because that was smooth and cool, and not the reality of the weird grunting noise that he’d made in response, as if his brain had briefly forgotten that it was human and not still ape.

Eddie had snorted, but forgiven him this, and Steve had gone to work dutifully, because the reality of getting to fuck Eddie was still new and visceral. But then here they are, well past foreplay, and Eddie is giving him shit, cracking jokes, and Steve is still somehow completely hard. Which is to say, Steve is buried all the way inside of Eddie, balls flush against his sweaty ass, and absolutely breathless with laughter, trying to muffle the sound of it into Eddie’s shoulder when Eddie throws his head back theatrically and moans, “Yes, daddy, yes. Harder, please. Yes, Steve, put a baby in me already.”

And it’s—

He’s joking. Neither of them ever get even close to brushing against their mutual daddy issues. It’s a joke, the same way that the theatrical porn star moans he’s been driving Steve crazy with for the last half hour have been a joke. The same way that his nicknames getting more and more absurd every month is a joke. 

But Steve’s breath — it catches. He’d been halfway through another shaky thrust, tears still in his eyes, and then, at Eddie’s words, his movement stutters. He doesn’t quite gasp, but his exhale comes out shaky, a nervous huff of a noise.

Eddie goes still under him. He twists, peering around his own shoulder at Steve, his eyes wide and dark. He blinks and asks, “Really?”

.

“Fuck,” Eddie says again, voice thready. Steve tugs on his hair again, just enough to hear him hiss. “Just— Christ, Steve. Fuck me, already. Fill me up, put a baby in me or whatever weird hetero bullshit your brain has a boner for, just do it.”

Steve’s breath catches, his brain abruptly knocked offline. He doesn’t— later, he’ll try to wrap his brain around why this works for him. Try to figure out whether it’s the daddy issues, the unspoken desire for a kid, or just the idea of filling Eddie up with his come, but in this moment, the only thing that he can think of is those words in Eddie’s mouth, the reality of what he’s about to do. 

Steve’s a good, smart boy. Smart about this, at least. He likes to have sex. He’s safe about having sex. Even with Nancy, he’d never—

He fucks Eddie until he’s wailing, working his way up from the slow grind. Short, slow strokes, hard and deep. Harder, a little faster. It’s so much harder to fuck Eddie right like this, but it’s so intimate, tucked so tightly together that he can’t make himself move.

“Please,” Eddie is saying, and Steve isn’t even sure if Eddie’s aware that he’s talking out loud. He’s got his head buried in his arms, his body rocking forward every time Steve fucks into him, and his voice is throaty, his body shaking with every thrust.

“Please Steve,” he gasps, breathless, sweaty. He lets out an uneven moan at Steve’s next thrust, hard and deep, just the way Eddie likes it. “Do it, just do it, pump me full of your come, do it, please.”

Favorite dialogue (excerpt):

“Good morning, Princess,” Ganondorf tells her, still smiling. “That isn’t your usual guard.”

“No,” she tells him, and leaves it at that.

He hums thoughtfully, his eyes going to the guard again, and for a moment, she thinks that he may press the matter, as if it’s any of his business where Link may be, but after another moment, he drops it, leaving it with a polite nod.

They watch the birds in silence for some time. 

Ganondorf, as it turns out, has a bag of feed with him, which he offers her when the robins have finished what's on the ground and turn to eye them expectantly.

She dips her hand into the bag, delighting in the cool press of seeds against her knuckles, and comes out with a palmful, which she gently tosses to the grateful birds. As she watches, a few more descend.

“Do you come to this spot often?” Ganondorf asks as she brushes the lingering kernels from her hands.

She looks at him, wondering if she should say. If he does mean her harm, this place that she only comes to when she means to be alone would be a delightful place for any would-be kidnapper. But, on the other hand, if he is to be her husband, he will learn soon enough.

“Yes,” she tells him, reaching to brush her knuckles across the rose nearest her, the last few drops of morning dew clinging to the downy softness of its petals. “I love this place.”

“It is lovely,” he says. “Quiet, peaceful. I was happy to find a place to myself.”

She turns to look at him, curious despite herself. “Do you have a place like it? Back home?”

Ganondorf is still watching the birds, but as she speaks, he turns to her, his expression soft. 

“I do,” he says, sounding pleased. “We have orange trees growing in what passes for our garden. They grow in a small alcove tucked away from prying eyes. There’s a fountain there. It’s peaceful.” He seems to hesitate, then adds, “They smell divine when they’re in bloom. Perhaps one day I can show you.”

“Perhaps,” she replies, for politeness sake. She is her father’s only heir. He would never let her venture out into the desert, not even if she had all the guards in Hyrule with her. 

Perhaps, she thinks, when she is queen. If her husband has not attempted a coup by then.

They have drawn an entire flock by now, not only robins, but jays and turtle doves. They bicker amongst themselves for the seed, their chatter light and easy. She only wishes that her entire day could be this quiet.

“Are you looking forward to the feast tonight?” she asks, only half listening as she watches one of the larger jays wallop one of the doves with its wing.

“I never look forward to feasts,” Ganondorf tells her gravely, which surprises her enough that she lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

When she’s done laughing, she looks at him, tears in her eyes, and confesses, “Neither do I.”

.

“Looking for your knight, princess?” Ganondorf whispers out of the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t duck his head towards her, but there’s a barely noticeable tilt to his head that means he wants to, that he wants his lips pressed right up against her ear, where he can speak truly to only her. The whisper, she thinks, will have to suffice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispers back, her eyes finding Link’s even as the words leave her mouth. He is watching them, but there’s a faint crack in his mask, a flash of pain bare on his face for all of Hyrule to see before he catches her looking and schools it into careful blankness once more.

Ganondorf chuckles, a warm rumble that she can feel through her entire body, from head to toes.

“Of course, you don’t,” he tells her, something faintly mocking in his voice. It makes her hackles go up, spine straightening as she lifts her head to look at him.

He is looking down at her now, and on his lips is a smile that she hasn’t seen from him yet. It isn’t the soft private smile from this morning, nor is it the polite smile that he gives her father and the rest of court. This is a strange smile, just for her, and it appears entirely genuine. 

“Are you mocking me, sir?” she asks him.

“Perhaps,” he tells her, unexpectedly lifting her into a spin. She reels, a bit dizzy when he sets her back onto her feet. He smiles again, as if he’s laughing at her, and ducks his head to whisper in her ear, “Is it working?”

She blinks hard, finding Link over his shoulder again.

“Is what working?” she asks breathlessly.

She can feel his smile against her ear, the feel of it curving upwards. She shivers.

His lips move against her ear, his breath warm against her throat. “Am I making him jealous?”

She flinches. Not hard, but just enough to make her misstep. She corrects herself, but people have already seen.

There will be whispers. Rumors.

She huffs, and looks away from him, careful to keep her gaze away from Link.

“I told you,” she says coolly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughs again, but obligingly straightens, taking his mouth far out of her reach.

They dance in silence until the music stops.

Favorite lines (excerpt):

“You can, you know,” Mobius tells him, and Loki wants to ask what, wants to ask if that’s freestanding permission— to take anything he wants, anything he needs. 

“Can I?” Loki asks, his voice a rasp in the dark.

Mobius nods, his nose sliding against Loki’s. He’s holding his breath, Loki thinks, and that won’t do. Loki needs him to breathe. 

He kisses him. 

Mobius makes a thin noise, like he hadn’t really expected Loki to do it, then something heavier as his mouth slides open under Loki’s. 

Loki reaches, curling his fingers against Mobius’s cheek, pulling him closer, until they’re almost on top of one another. Loki wants— he wants a great many things. He wants to kiss Mobius until his breathing goes erratic. Wants to crawl backwards onto the desk and let Mobius have him there, just like this. Wants to touch him all over, map out every square inch of his body until Loki knows every whorl of hair, every wayward freckle.

“Mm,” Mobius hums as Loki breaks the kiss. Their lips make a wet sound as they separate. The sound of it is thrilling. It makes him want more. Mobius clearly is on the same page, his eyes flickering open slowly, watching Loki through slitted eyes. As Loki watches, he smiles and asks, “Feel better?”

He does, actually. 

The panic is ebbing, his heart regaining its normal rhythm, his vision no longer tunneling. He doesn’t feel as out of control now, like time itself is slipping away from him.

Loki licks his lips, ignoring the way that Mobius’ eyes linger on his mouth, and nods. He leans in for another kiss, this one shorter. He is very aware of the light of the loom, going ever brighter outside the window. Not long now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mobius tells him, leaning smugly back against the computers when Loki has finished with him. He looks rumpled. His hair askew, his lips bruised. Loki wants to wreck him.

“Don’t worry about what?” Loki asks, distracted. 

Mobius jerks his head towards the loom, the timelines, the constant writhe of them against the blackness of the void. “That. Don't worry. You’ll get it right next time.”

Loki hisses, his head jerking up. He meets Mobius’ laughing eyes. Says, “When did you figure it out?”

Mobius shrugs, flashing Loki a look. “You didn’t get that good at physics overnight, Loki. Come on. How long have you been at this?”

Loki doesn’t know. Not really. He’s lost count. Lost count quickly even. “Too long.”

Mobius eyes him. He’s still reclined back against the computers, his elbows planted firmly under him, legs slightly splayed. Loki can see the length of him, hard in his slacks. It’s tempting. He is tempting. If they had more time, then maybe—

Mobius is still watching him, like he can see Loki's every thought printed out and set before him in real time. Who knows, maybe he can. 

“Next time,” Mobius tells him, like a promise. 

The light outside the window is growing brighter, the rattling of the entire structure around them getting louder.

Loki breathes. 

“You won’t remember,” Loki says, feeling a tug of… something at that. Hurt, maybe. Grief, perhaps— for this version of Mobius that his hands have touched, this version who won’t exist five minutes from now.

“Maybe not,” Mobius tells him with an unconcerned shrug. “But I can promise you I’ll be receptive.”

Loki snorts. “That sure of yourself, are you?”

Mobius’ smile goes soft, secret. A little sad around the edges.

“With you?” he says. “Always.”

.

Ganondorf is enormous, well over seven feet tall and thick with heavy, corded muscle, the bulk of him great enough that in the months prior to his arrival, the castle staff had seriously considered widening several doorways around the castle. And while she is glad to know that he is able to fit through their doorways without issue, his size is… intimidating.

His hair is swept up into a glinting gold crown, the color a deep russet red that’s several shades darker than the rest of his kin. He's bare from the waist up, his naked torso heavily adorned, golden hoops in his ear lobes, a heavy looking necklace of gold and ruby draped around his throat, intricate designs swirling down to just above his navel. Delicate chains link the neck piece to golden cuffs squeezed tight around his biceps and then, even further down, another pair of arm guards that run from forearm to wrist. There is even, she realizes, her face going red, a pair of simple golden hoops through two brown nipples. They glint back at her in the afternoon light, mocking.

Zelda, who had missed the first of the introductions during her inspection of her betrothed, blinks hard, head jerking up when she hears her own name echoing through the chamber. She turns towards her father, who is looking back at her expectantly. She has no idea what he’s said, but she can guess. 

She clears her throat, stepping forward until she is at the very edge of the dais. Her eyes find Ganondorf’s. 

His eyes are warm. Gold. There’s intelligence there – slyness and cunning, yes – but even as the force of his gaze holds her in place, she recognizes something more there. A challenge. The potential for cruelty, perhaps. It will be a game, she thinks, looking at him. He will do his duty. He will wed her and unite their peoples, even swear fealty to Hyrule. And yet, she’s somehow sure that he will spend the rest of their lives testing her, looking for cracks in her armor, waiting and watching for a chance to usurp her throne.

She watches as he goes down to one knee before her, and finds her mouth wet as he reaches for her hand, saliva pooling against her tongue. Suddenly, she is very aware of everything. Her father beside her. Link at her back. Ganondorf’s kinsman watching her with a careful blankness masking their curiosity. There are wolves in the castle and they are hungry.

“Hello, Princess Zelda,” he says, mouth quirking upwards into something that’s more smirk than smile. His voice is warm, smooth like liquid honey. 

“Ganondorf,” she makes herself say, willing her voice not to waver as she gives an estimation of a curtsy. It isn’t quite proper, but it is within the polite boundaries of etiquette. No one will be able to fuss.

His smile grows as his gaze flicks over her right shoulder, to where she knows Link is standing. She cannot allow herself to look, but she can guess that Link is likely standing there, his face carefully blank, the perfect soldier. She wonders what drew Ganondorf’s attention – a tightening of Link’s fingers around the hilt of his sword? A flicker of an expression around his mouth?

Whatever it is, Link holds Ganondorf’s attention for several long moments. Zelda can feel her hand begin to sweat against Ganondorf’s palm and longs to withdraw it. Then, Ganondorf’s smile goes a touch crooked, showing teeth, and still holding Link’s gaze, he ducks and presses his lips to her knuckles. Only then does he return his gaze to hers.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Ganondorf tells her, releasing her hand at last. Zelda can feel the burn of his lips against her skin, warmth blossoming outwards, sending seeking tendrils crawling down her wrist. She has to fight the urge to hide her hand behind her skirts.

She swallows again and makes herself smile, even as a shiver runs through her. “The pleasure is all mine.”

.

A hand touches her elbow and she flinches, expecting Link, but when she turns, it’s Ganondorf. He’s looking at her seriously, his heavy brows knotted. There is no calculating or cruelty on that face, only understanding.

“Wife,” he says, and that’s a little stab of agony as well, knowing that it is done, knowing that she is as good as shackled to the man next to her. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”

Her head jerks up, mouth parting. She’d expected cruelty, she realizes, looking into his eyes. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought that Ganondorf could be kind. 

It is a sweet offer, but a barbed one, as well. Even if she were to put the night off – how long would he wait? A week? A month? Years? What if she never wished to bed him? Would he allow that or would he go to her father and declare the marriage contract null. 

No, better to get this over with.

Zelda swallows and shakes her head. Her eyes go to Link, standing just to the left of Ganondorf. His face is like stone, still refusing to look at her. He will hold vigil, here at her door. He will… hear. She’s known that all along, but now, it’s like an arrow in her gut. She shouldn’t have kissed him. 

There’s a soft sound in the hallway, a quick inhalation, and her eyes go to Ganondorf, who is looking down at her with something like realization. A knowing. Even a soft smugness.

“Oh,” Ganondorf says, voice thick with understanding. Her heart drops as Ganondorf looks between them, face creased. “It is like that, then. I had wondered.”

Link doesn’t look up at either of them, his jaw merely tightening as he stands straight under Ganondorf’s gaze.

Ganondorf laughs, a soft thing, colored with amusement, as he leans back against the door to her rooms. Light from Zelda’s candle glints off of his crown, off of the plate of gold laid over his chest. He’s still looking between them. 

“Hm,” he says once he’s finished laughing, reaching for Zelda’s hand. She gives it to him, her heart hammering in her chest, and sucks in a quiet breath when he steps forward and gently draws her over the threshold to her rooms. He takes the candle from her, setting it into the waiting sconce, and looks back over his shoulder at Link, who is still stone-faced and silent at the door.

He quirks an eyebrow at him and says, “Well, aren’t you coming?”

Shock explodes across Link’s face, blue eyes going wide as a ruddy blush instantly colors his cheeks. His mouth drops, lips parting as a huff of surprise leaves him. He stares at Ganondorf, open-mouthed, the emotion bleeding back into him all at once. 

He glances towards Zelda, as if looking to confirm what he’d just heard.

Zelda, who finds that her mouth is also open, only shakes her head in disbelief. 

Link’s eyes go back to Ganondorf’s, only to dart away again, skittish.

Ganondorf chuckles again, stepping forward until he’s once again looming in the doorway. He cocks his head, as if curious, eyes running up and down Link’s body, heavy with intent.

“I will admit,” Ganondorf tells him, that same strange smile playing around his lips as he reaches out, brushing a wayward curl from Link’s face. “It’s been some time since I had a boy in my bed, but having the both of you won’t be such a hardship.”  

He casts a glance over his shoulder towards her even as his palm slides up to cup Link’s cheek, an almost proprietary grip, his thumb coming to rest at the corner of Link’s mouth. She’s shocked to realize that she wants to see what would happen if Link opened his mouth and sucked it in. 

Ganondorf must see something of her thoughts on her face, because he laughs again, louder, a rumble deep in his chest. 

“What do you think, princess?” Ganondorf asks, cocking his head. His smile is wide, knowing. “Would having your young knight here with us make the marriage bed more palatable?”

Fic goals:

No goals this year, I don't think. Only to write what I want to write. And as per my resolution, work on the original work as much as I can.