#so if they met up AS humans it’ll probably be sweeter

[ringingfromthefuture]

“Right, yeah, that’s fine-”

He’s just sniffling now. He’s calmed down a lot. But. Obviously not fully because who would when you get told all this stuff by a man you thought hated you?

“Y- Yeah.. The flowers.. OH. OH WAIT.”

HELP. Now he’s getting louder, but he’s smiling now! Happy!

“Would you be up for talking to Jake again? We.. kept somewhat in touch. I still don’t think he likes me clinging to the restaurant, but I could text him about this. If you want me to.”

[HIII!! Guess who visited! But this time he’s human! His hair.. is ungodly fluffy. If you stick your hand in his hair? It’s fucking GONE. But anywaus. HII CHIP!!]

“I need to talk to you.”

“Wh- SCOTT?”

He backed up, trying to snarl, but it looked really stupid considering he is also human.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it. I may not have security with me at the moment, but I do have, uh.. I don’t have anything, but-”

He sighed.

“Y’know what? Since I promised someone I’d stay safe, sure. What is it?”

//@the-desolate-location

[astaroth1357]

Yandere Demon Dating Game!!

Pick your sweet, sweet poison today!

Congratulations!! You, dear reader, have the exclusive opportunity to select a lover straight from the upper echelon of Hell! We've rounded up nine fantastic demon suitors all ready to take your hand for their own, completely stress free and with no awkward courtship! There is just one catch though, they already love you quite a bit… in their own demonic way. 

Please, browse our eagerly awaiting bachelors to your heart's content! Once you've made your choice, CLICK BELOW THE CUT to see who your new love gets to be!

Warning: Yandere Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Probably Some Implied Violence

All behavior described is for the purpose of fantasy and this is in no way an endorsement of performing any of this in real life!

Bachelor #1

Bachelor #1 could compare you to the moon and the stars but in his eyes not even those could compare to your radiance. You are the most precious being in existence and he’ll do everything in his considerable power to see your every need met! There’s not a thing between Heaven and Hell that he can’t provide for you and he’ll do so happily. You are, quite simply, his world.

But being a person’s everything can have some drawbacks… Bachelor #1 will only feel comfortable if he knows that you’re his. Really and truly in every way possible, and he’s not very used to rejection… at all. You won’t be able to overpower nor escape him, even if you could get some distance between you it’ll never last... Best resign yourself completely because he’ll own every part of you that he wants to... body and soul.

Bachelor #2

Bachelor #2 cherishes every bit of you and all that you stand for as someone truly without no equal. He’ll turn to you first on his rainy days and he’ll want to show you off on his sunny. He’ll never get enough of being with or worshipping you and only you. Flaws and insecurities be damned! He will love you with a depth that could rival the sea and a strength that even God couldn't break. He’d challenge anyone to try.

They’d all fail, of course. Bachelor #2 will know the most about you, even things you thought he never could… because he’s been following your every move. If he can’t be attached to your hip, then he’ll tail you like a shadow, keeping details meticulously stashed away in his mind.... Unfortunately, if you speak to anyone else that means he’ll know right away, and he’ll make it very clear how much he hates you giving your attention away so freely...

Bachelor #3

Bachelor #3's love is as pure and true as a fairytale. He wants nothing more than to shield you from all the horrors of the world, human or demon, and he's loyal to a fault. Truly, you could not be in safer hands. He'll do almost anything that you ask without complaint just to see you happy… He does so love to see your smile...

Now, Bachelor #3 would never hurt you, in fact, he’ll make sure that nothing ever will. Your smile is all he cares about and he’ll guard it with his life. So best keep that smile up because he won’t care to listen if he ever finds you sad. If you’re upset, then he’s upset, but he’ll express that through Pure. Destruction. It doesn’t matter who hurt you, you don’t get to stop him. You don’t get to argue. So just keep sitting and smiling for everyone else’s sake… Because if you’re smiling then you must be happy… right?

Bachelor #4

Bachelor #4 only wants you to see the best of him as he’d like to see the best of you! He sees within you more than just kindness, but a genuine potential to be everything he’s ever wanted. He loves you from the depths of his soul and he believes that you can do this! Though he may not say it, in his dreams, the two of you will be together forever. Happy and content no matter what life throws at you… but some things just take… adjusting.

Bachelor #4 wants only the best for you, you know? His words may sound harsh but he means well. He may lose his temper once in a while, but that’s just to make a point. He’d never hurt you, truly he’s never! But how else is he going to make you remember how much you need him? What about when you don’t listen?? Honestly, that independent streak of yours is going to have to go�� Just follow the rules, love, please… This is all for you, you know?

Bachelor #5

Bachelor #5 wishes to discover all that he can about you, your every hope, dream, and interest. To him, you’ll be an endless fascination meant for his enjoyment alone. He’ll find every way he can to make you laugh or smile at a feverish pace and commit them to memory like it's etched in stone. He’ll never get enough of drinking in your reactions, truly you are a work of art!

But by every reaction, we mean every single one... Bachelor #5 wants to see it all, the good, the bad, and the genuinely harrowing. He’ll know your every hope as well as your every fear and will soak it in with delight all the same. It’s not his fault, love, really. When everything about you is just so captivating, how can he ever hope to look away? You’re strong enough to give him what he wants… aren’t you?

Bachelor #6

Bachelor #6 may love you quietly but make no mistake, the sheer intensity of his feelings are practically unrivaled by any other option before you today. He won’t be satisfied until you’re both seen as one whole, a package deal that no one would ever think to break. Life with him can be filled with nothing but softness and bliss, light touches and impassioned words, until the worlds fall down around you…

To clarify, the keyword here is “can.” Bachelor #6 will make one thing very clear, you are a package deal and that’s how you’ll stay. Where you go, he goes. If he doesn’t want to go, then you stay. Plain and simple. If you want to go, you stay. If others die, you stay. If the world ends, you stay. Even if it kills you, you stay. So why not just enjoy the bliss while it lasts?

Bachelor #7

Bachelor #7 wants only the best for you because he knows it’s what you most deserve. For anyone to catch his eye quite like you have, then you must be just that special and he’ll seek out every opportunity he can to make your life much sweeter. In essence, he’ll take care of you better than anyone else ever could, including yourself, and he’ll take pleasure in making sure that your every need is met. You’ll want for nothing that you can have…

But you’ll never have your freedom back. Bachelor #7 sees no reason for you to be without him (however would you survive?) so he has it all planned out for you. You’ll be in the lap of luxury, the pinnacle of comfort, truly your new home is a magnificent gilded cage. He’ll treat you gently so long as you do the same for him. But even the nicest cages can be covered and forgotten if the owner so chooses… No matter how pretty their pet sings.

Bachelor #8

Bachelor #8 lives in worlds one can only dream of and yet you’re by far the best thing he could ever ask for. Try as he might, he can’t think of anything that really compares to you. Your magnificence is beyond the description of even the most skilled of poets… Truthfully, he hardly can stop thinking about you. You take up so much space in his mind that he can scarcely imagine his life without you in it...

So… he doesn’t. Bachelor #8 genuinely believes that you're the happiest couple in existence. Not, “you will be.” You are. And to his credit, his love is sweet and true even if he sees things slightly… obtuse. You won’t be able to reason with him because he buried logic a long time ago… He loves you and you love him, even if he gets upset, you love him. Even if he hurts someone… you love him. Don’t you?

Bachelor #9

Bachelor #9’s devotion to you will never be in question. He’s given himself to you wholeheartedly and would be thrilled if you were to do the same for him. He’s more than willing to throw everything aside for you and that’s not an honor he offers to anyone. Just know that he'll always be there to protect you and he'll do anything to prove his love to you… whether you know it or not.

And there's a good deal you won't know. Bachelor #9 will come across as the most heroic of the bunch, a true lifesaver, but don't be fooled. He isn't saving you from anything. Or, well he is but he’s behind the danger to start with. Not that you'll never know it mid-rescue, tucked up within his arms… you'll never feel safe without him. He'll make sure of that.

When you've selected your fine Bachelor of choice click the cut to see what lucky man you're taking home!

Bachelor #1: Diavolo

Aiming high aren’t we, reader? Congratulations, you’ve chosen the Prince of Hell! Being with Lord Diavolo will be a bit of a roller coaster so we hope you’re prepared. For as much as he has to offer he’s a little… demanding at times. Keeping up with a princely schedule will do that to a person. Just enjoy you gold and your gems when you can… you certainly won’t be getting much rest, that’s for sure.

Bachelor #2: Asmodeus 

So you’ve selected Asmodeus? Excellent choice, reader! Really, he’s among the safer options on this list as long as you don’t mind giving up some of your privacy. Well, okay all of your privacy but what’s yours is his and everything about you is his now. Please don’t get too upset, he’ll be nice! Just remember to keep those eyes where they belong, right~?

Bachelor #3: Beelzebub

It looks like you’ve chosen the ever-loyal Beelzebub! Wonderful selection, reader, clearly you care deeply about your own safety. We suppose the same can’t be said for anyone else, but hey? What’s a few black eyes and broken bones between friends? You can always stand to lose some family, can’t you? It’s all in the name of love after all.

Bachelor #4: Lucifer

Well, well reader, you’ve selected the eldest brother, Lucifer! You’ll be delighted to know that your new beloved will treat you as dearly as he would his own heart… so long as you follow his instructions and listen to his "advice." Even dogs can follow basic commands, so you can too… can't you?

Bachelor #5: Satan

Fantastic choice, reader! We're certain that you and Satan will make quite the happy couple! ...most of the time. He is a curious fellow and may need to "test" your limits from time to time but it's only because he adores you so much. No worries, it'll all be over soon… but then again, what is "soon" to a demon?

Bachelor #6: Belphegor 

Congratulations, dear reader, it seems you've picked the seventh brother, Belphegor! You can expect to spend long hours lazing with this dreamy demon, he'll want nothing more than to be around you… and he'll growl if you try to leave. Always remember, he'll make sure you stay in his bed one way or another...

Bachelor #7: Barbatos 

Very good choice, reader, picking the butler himself means you must obviously have some classy tastes. You really won't have to worry about much but… do you handle isolation well? Best hope so, he's a busy man and, frankly, you won't be going anywhere anymore.

Bachelor #8: Leviathan

Looking to make Leviathan's dreams of bliss a reality, are you? What a commendable endeavor, reader! We respect your choice. Though don't worry, you'll live up to his expectations. You don't get a say in the matter.

Bachelor #9: Mammon

A bit of a White Knight chaser, are you? Well your life won't be lacking excitement with Mammon! Back alley gangs, run away trains, suspicious fires, you name it and he'll be there for you. We're sure you'll be fine, you're in Mammon's hands! His very… "capable" hands. Why be concerned?

Did you make the right choice? 

Check out my Masterlist for other stuff I've posted.

[dameronology]

never doubt me {cassian andor}

summary: after falling into the hands of the empire, a situation of life and death forces you and cassian to finally talk about your feelings {for @megmeg-chan and i am sO sorry it’s taken me so long to do this}

summary: language, mentions of injury, talks ab death/loss in a canon kinda way 

enjoy!! i haven’t written for cassian in so long and i forgot how much i loved him, so expect more of him in the future😌

- jazz

Cassian Andor was a filthy liar. 

No, deep breath. He wasn't that bad. 

The situation was just really fucking irritating and, in all likelihood, making your anger towards him a little more irrational. It wasn't really even his fault either. He'd told you incessantly that the mission was going to go well, and that you both going to be fine. Like, totally fiiiine, and that you would both get into the base without trouble and reunite in the middle, near the Imperial comms system. It was just that neither of you had planned for or expected stormtroopers to be present -- he'd gotten away in one piece, but you hadn't been so lucky. 

That brings us to now: a cell, with two stormtroopers parked outside and quite literally no sign of Cassian anywhere. You knew he'd be looking for you; in fact, you didn't doubt it once. There was a sort of unspoken pact between you that you would always rescue one another; always have each other's backs and never leave the other behind. It was born from the fact that friendships were hard to forge in your line of work, and what you and Cassian had was rare. Not even just in the Rebellion, but rather life in general. On the surface, you teased and ripped into one another to no end. The chemistry was almost suffocating for the people around you, because they could never get a word in edge ways. Then, if you dug a little deeper, there was something more. Something sweeter, something more supportive. You knew him better than he knew himself and in return, he could read you like his favourite novel (though, admittedly, it did sometimes feel like you were missing a few pages. Human complexity and all that).

‘Do you feel like speaking now?’ The modulated voice of one of the stormtroopers came from the other side of your cell door.

‘I’ll die before telling you jackshit.’ You muttered. Hopefully that was more of a statement and less of a prophecy.

The trooper snorted. ‘Okay, sweetheart-’

‘- call me that again and I will shove that blaster sideways up your ass.’ You spat.

‘The only thing you’re doing is rotting here.’ 

With that, he turned his back to you again. 

You slumped further down the wall, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete etching through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was cold in here. Really, really fucking cold, and Cassian had said you wouldn’t need a jacket. Then again, he’d said a lot of things. And again, none of it was his fault, but you cursed yourself for so blindly listening to him. It was nice that you took everything the other said as gospel, even if it came back to bite you in the ass every so often. 

‘A word of advice-’

‘- I don’t want any advice.’ You turned away from the trooper, pulling you knees to your chest. 

‘The sooner you talk, the less painful it’ll be.’ He ignored your refusal. 

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by it. You’d been part of the Rebellion long enough to have heard stories -- stories of torture, stories of war and the the kind of horrors that people often took to the grave.  You had a fair few of your own, and so did Cassian. That was probably why he’d become so important to you. He was one of the only people in the galaxy who truly understood the downfalls of being a Rebel spy. Your cause was more important to you than anything (well, almost anything) and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, but there were times like this where you wondered if it was all worth it. Would there ever come a day where the Empire truly fell, once and for all? And would you even be around to see it? Would Cassian? 

Speaking of the devil, where the fuck was he? He never usually took this long. A few hours at most, but you’d long surpassed that. You could only very barely see the sky through the tiny window, but the sky had faded from powder blue to a dark navy, signalling it had been well over half a day. That was bad for multiple reasons -- the first being that the longer you were here, the more likely Cassian was to assume the worst and stop searching. Secondly, and perhaps most hauntingly, was that each passing second brought you closer to the Imps dragging you out the cell and taking you for questioning. And questioning, in their books, didn’t involve much talking. Go figure.

The injuries you sustained in your capture were bad enough; a bust lip, bruised eye and twisted ankle never made for much comfort. Even less so when you couldn’t get medical attention. The fact you knew it would be the least of your problems in a few hours made it all that much worst. 

You’d never doubted Cassian Andor before. Not once. Couldn’t even fathom it, truth be told. He always came through for you; always saved your ass, whether it be from yourself or from Imps. He was your person. That’s the only way you could have put it.

But, above all, he was a human being. Not a super hero, or a miracle worker. He could only do so much and you knew he would. He would follow every lead and every clue to try and get to you, but that’s all he could do. If he couldn’t find you, that wasn’t him on him. You doubted that he would think the same, and when you heard the lock to your cell open, you could only hope and pray that he knew that. That you weren’t going to blame him for what was about to happen, or hold it against him. 

‘It’s time.’ The stormtrooper announced. ‘Hope you can handle a bit of pain.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I can handle anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ He guffawed. ‘Hands out.’

‘C’mon, man.’ You murmured. ‘My legs gone, my lips bust and my head feels someone’s dropped an iron anvil on it. You don’t need to cuff  - ouch!’

You let out a squeak as he grabbed your wrists, tugging them forward and shoving a pair of metal cuffs on them. Was this really it? The end? Was your name gonna be the next one on the list of people lost in the Rebellion? That was if anybody even noticed. 

Cassian would. Of course, Cassian would. It hurt your heart to think that you wouldn’t see him again, or get to say a proper goodbye. The last time you’d seen him, you’d been dragged away from him kicking and screaming. He’d been so close, and if he’d been just a little nearer when they’d got you, he might have been able to save you, to stop you from falling into the hands of the Empire. You always figured that if you were gonna die in the field, he’d be by your side. The dumbassery you so often found yourselves in usually happened together. 

The walls of the Imperial base were dark - as if you’d expected anything else. It was hardly like the place was going to look like a bright, airy Ikea showroom. The only light came from the thousands of tiny red and blue buttons flickering on the wall, illuminating the hallways in what would have been a pretty glow if the circumstances weren’t so fucking miserable. Talk about a high way to hell.

You took another left, the trooper’s grip on you tightening as you neared some double towards the end. Yep, here it was. This is where you met your maker.  And from what you’d heard, the six-foot-something guy in a black mask did not take prisoners. Not that he was the one you were thinking of. No, that was Cassian. Completely and entirely Cassian; just his face and his presence and his everything at the back of your mind, the last thing you could think of before you were about to die for your cause-

-you let out an oof! as the stormtrooper suddenly pulled you to the ground, practically using you as a human shield against the blaster fire and smoke grenade that had just come from behind you. You tried to use your elbows to push him off, but with the cuffs and your already existing injuries, he easily overpowered you. Also, you were too busy coughing from the smoke to even think about making a getaway.

Tumbling forward, you fell onto your hands and knees. The trooper’s gun clattered to the ground, and you used your good leg to kick it further out the way, eyes not moving from the cloud of smoke that come out of the grenade. The red and blue lights were beating down on it, casting a purple glow over the shadow of whoever had thrown it, acting as a guide as they finally emerged. With a blaster in one hand and the other curled into a fist, your best friend had never quite looked so handsome, especially under the violet illuminations.

‘Cassian!’ Despite everything, you couldn’t help but grin. 

‘Duck.’ He demanded. 

You did as he said, flopping back to the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut and covering your head, you stayed there for a moment. There was another blast, and then the trooper’s body fell beside yours with a dull thud! 

Then, in what must have been two of most contrasting feelings ever, a warm pair of hands found yours. Cassian’s, undoubtedly. You would have known them anywhere. He pulled you up from the cold ground, warm palms finding your face as they ghosted over your cheeks.

‘It’s okay.’ His voice was soft. ‘You can open your eyes.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘How badly are you hurt?’ He asked. ‘Because we need to move fast.’

‘My foot’s pretty wrangled.’ You said. 

Without another word, Cassian threw an arm over your shoulders, tucking it under your arms to support you. 

‘Lean against me.’ He instructed. ‘The exit isn’t too far-’

‘- what about the other troopers?’ You asked.

‘I dealt with them on my way in.’

And dealt with them, he certainly had. The men were practically laying in unconscious piles (he only ever intended to maim, but never kill), working as some kind of fucked up map out of a twisted and horrible maze.  The pain in your leg only grew worst as you moved, your good leg beginning to ache from carrying all the weight. With all your attention focused ahead of you for potential enemies, you didn’t even notice how close you were to stumbling over -- not until you fell back onto the cold lino floors. 

‘Hey.’ Cassian dropped beside you. ‘Look at me, okay, just...look at me.’

You glanced up, tired eyes meeting his warm, brown ones. ‘It really hurts, Cass.’

‘We’re really close now.’ He said. ‘Two more minutes. Can you do that? For me?’

‘Yeah.’ You took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I can.’

(Because really, for him, you’d do anything.) 

Cassian helped you back up, pressing one of his blasters into your hand. His arm returned to hold you by the waist, gripping you a little tighter this time. Your leg was practically screaming in pain, a dull ache shooting from your ankle up to your knee. You had to remind yourself that in a few minutes, it would all be over - and not in the way you thought it was going to be over an hour ago. Over, as in this whole ordeal would simply be something to report back to your bosses at base, and not your final moments. The fact you ever let yourself accept that fate and think that Cassian wouldn’t come for you was something else entirely in itself. 

You almost cried with relief when you saw his battered old ship docked outside the base. You normally cried for other reasons when you saw it - usually ones to do with the rusty old engines and creaking sound it insisted on making whenever it flew - but right then, you had never been happier to see it. Even if the insides smelt weirdly of petrol and oil, and the seats in the cockpit were made of uncomfortable cracked leather, you practically threw yourself on board. 

Neither you nor Cassian said anything for a while. His attention was completely on getting away from the base and avoiding TIE fighters - something he did without ever moving his hand from your thigh - and yours was on steadying your breathing and heartbeat. It had been a rough twelve hours to say the least. 

Once the ship had lurched into hyperspace, he turned in his chair to face you. He held your gaze for a moment, before opening his arms out and letting you flop from your own seat and into his chest. They tightly wrapped around you, one hand softly your head to his body and the other gently rubbing up and down your back. You had to squeeze your eyes shut to stop your tears from spilling. 

‘I’m sorry.’ He murmured.

‘For what?’ You peered up at him with a frown. 

‘Not finding you sooner.’ He replied. ‘Or for even letting you get caught in the first place-’

‘- Cassian, stop.’ You pulled back and tangled his hands in yours. ‘Once I get some bactaspray, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘But you almost weren’t.’ He shot back. ‘If I was just a few minutes later and you could have been a thousand times worst, or even...gone completely.’

‘That’s beside the point.’ You softly sighed. ‘It’s doesn’t matter would have beens or could have beens. I am here and I will be okay.’

‘You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just...I want to protect you, you know? And I failed.’

‘You don’t need to protect me, Cass.’ You shook your head with a soft smile. ‘Actually, no, today I did but you pulled through.’

‘I don’t need to, but I want to.’ Cassian murmured. 

He’d done a pretty good job at sitting on his feelings for the last few years. Pushed them down when he felt the urge to tell you, and ignored them entirely when they got really intense. But that had been when the threat of completely losing you was just that: a threat. A distant possibility, and one that you were both too busy living your lives to fully consider. Now, however, you’d come close. Too close. Cassian had come face-to-face with a reality where you were gone, and one where he’d never actually told you how he felt. 

‘You know I love you, right?’ He quietly said. 

‘Yeah, I know.’ You nodded. 

‘No, I mean I love you.’ 

You peered up at him, realising what he was getting at. You did know. In fact, it had very much been an unspoken thing between you for a very, very long time. It was really just a matter of saying it - but that was always the hardest part, right? 

‘I know.’ You repeated. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

You softly laughed. ‘Of course I do.’ 

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and pulled you back against his chest, chin resting atop your ahead. ‘Good.’

You stayed like that for a few minutes; it was undoubtedly a deeper conversation you were going to have later on, but it felt good to have it out in the open. So good, in fact, that it momentarily made you forget the last day entirely. Instead of pondering on it, you let yourself get lost entirely in Cassian’s presence, and the feeling of his body against yours and and his arms holding you. If you could have it your way, you would have stayed like this forever. The rest of the galaxy could wait. 

‘I’m sorry if you thought I was going to make in time.’ He said quietly. 

‘I didn’t.’ Your voice was slightly muffled by his chest. ‘Not once.’

‘I love you.’ Cassian said it more firmly this time. It still completely felt weird to say, and even more so to see you smile and say it back.

‘I love you too.’

He dipped his head down, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. The feeling of your lips against his was familiar and foreign all at once; it was something he’d gone over in his head a thousand times, but it was nothing like either of you had imagined. It was better. Sweeter, in the kind of way that gave you butterflies in your tummy and made you feel giddy. It was worlds away from the usual dread and bloodshed that came with being in the Rebellion. 

But that was quintessentially Cassian. He was everything that the war wasn’t: sweet and constant and warm. Somebody as beautiful and as caring as him both did and didn’t belong in the Rebellion. Did, because he was a good man who wanted to fight for the right thing. Didn’t, because he constantly risked his life for the greater good and you couldn’t quite stomach that idea. 

‘I’ll always come back for you.’ He lightly brushed his hand against your cheek. ‘Never doubt me.’

‘I won’t.’ You promised. ‘Not ever.’ 

tags: @megmeg-chan @karasong @bb8sworld @marvelinsanity @poestardust @etherealsanakin @bo-kryze​ @punkbach​ @phoenixhalliwell​

[adarlingsnightmare]

Osamu Dazai Yandere Alphabet

this was requested by a lot of people and i wrote it awhile ago but am only posting it now bc i spent way too much time fussing over whether it was any good lol.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

One word: smothering. Dazai's idea of affection involves robbing you of your privacy and getting in your personal space as much as possible. He doesn't even care if you're not comfortable with it, so for anyone who doesn't like being touched, he's an absolute nightmare to be with. He especially likes to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind and stand like that for as long as possible.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As messy as necessary! He's more likely to get messy with you than with rivals, though. He is a sadist, but now that he has his precious darling this is all directed towards you, meaning his rivals get fairly swift deaths if Dazai does decide they need to die.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

As previously mentioned, Dazai is a sadist, and therefore loves to cause his darling pain whether that be physical or emotional. Despite this, he can act sweet and loving too, especially if you're not resistant. He does occasionally mock you, but it's not his main tactic of hurting you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

Yes, definitely. His darling's wants and needs are completely meaningless to him. To his darling, he may even seem oblivious, but the truth is he just doesn't care. You said you don't want him to spike your drink? Oh, well that's just too bad.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Surprisingly, Dazai will actually be himself around his darling, rather than putting on a persona. He believes that since he loves you, you should know his true self. You're the only person in the world who will ever get to see the real Dazai, though that isn't necessarily a good thing. Don't get excited though, this doesn't mean he is vulnerable, in fact he is probably worse now he doesn't have to restrain himself.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Mostly amused. A part of Dazai enjoys someone who fights back and won't give in easily, in fact you could even argue he is somewhat masochistic since he gets rather excited by your anger towards him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Certainly. Dazai is fascinated by human behaviour and watching you react to various torture and situations is his form of entertainment. He may eventually get irritated if you are constantly trying to escape, but he somewhat admires your resilience.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Honestly, the whole experience is a nightmare because there is no chance of a good ending. Dazai can't be reasoned with, there are no compromises and it is guaranteed to end in tragedy. No matter how strong or smart you are, you can't escape. The best ending is for Dazai to kill you, because at least then your suffering will be over.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Dazai never expected to live this long, so he's never bothered thinking about the future before, even when it comes to his darling. However, if it came down to it, he'd probably want something similar to the 'typical' married life: a house, loving partner and maybe some kids. He wants to feel more human and he figures acting like everyone else is a good start. Although, despite these fantasies, Dazai will never actually be able to live this life due to who he is.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Oh, Dazai is the definition of jealous. He can't even handle the prospect of you thinking about someone else, let alone anything like actually talking to them. He has to be the centre of your world or he will literally go insane. He's not a hothead like Chuuya, so aside from a very tight grip on you and a dark glare, his jealousy won't be noticeable immediately. However, that's not to say he won't do anything about the situation — scheming on how he can ruin this persons life and if they really don't get the message, he supposes he'll just have to show them what happens to vermin who steal his darling's attention.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He still retains some of his cheery and mischievous persona, but make no mistake, once he's got you trapped, he'll reveal a much darker side. He likes to act oblivious to your suffering just to wind you up— oh, you're crying about how you want to be let out? so... anyways, what should we have for dinner? — and takes pleasure in both your despair and your anger towards him.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Depending on which version of Dazai we're talking about here (Mafia or ADA), his way of courting will be different. If you meet while he's in the Port Mafia, he will be more creepy than romantic. Relying more on intimidation than charm, he'll spend his time sadistically toying with you and jumping out of nowhere to wrap his arms around you in a suffocating hold. ADA!Dazai is pretty much the complete opposite— overwhelming you with endless gifts (mainly pricey chocolate and flowers), reciting cheesy love poetry, flirting constantly and of course always asking you whether you'd commit a double suicide with him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Definitely. While Dazai appears as a cheerful, suicidal maniac with a penchant for troublemaking, he is actually quite different. Around you he does retain some of his facade, but the cracks will show and it'll be undoubtedly unsettling. He deceives you with his sweeter, more carefree side, before he reveals the merciless, cynical person he truly is.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishing his darling is Dazai's favourite thing... much to the disdain of his darling. He'll punish you for just about anything and half the time he won't even explain what you've done wrong, simply wanting an excuse to have his fun. His punishment can take many forms, usually sexual, and always teaches you a lesson. The punishments you receive depend on whether we're talking about mafia!Dazai or ADA!Dazai, the former typically based around humiliation and the latter around degradation and pain. (I have quite a few ideas but I didn't want to write too much on this here).

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Rights? Freedom? What are those? You don't know because you haven't experienced the feeling of independence and being able to make your own decisions since Dazai took an interest in you. He's an unbearably jealous person so he can't allow you to even look at other people, let alone talk to them. Despite how much you prove your loyalty to Dazai, he will still refuse to loosen his suffocating hold over you and your freedom.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

If Dazai thinks it's worth it, he can wait for just about anything, so he is usually relatively patient with his darling. I say 'usually', because while he doesn't mind waiting, he prefers his darling to respond to his questions and advances instantly and you risk getting punished if you don't. Unfortunately for you, you'll never know how patient he's feeling so it's always best to just be alert and reply immediately when he asks you something.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Definitely not. Dazai's life felt pointless until he met his beloved darling, so you leaving/dying would absolutely destroy him and increase his suicidal tendencies tenfold. Without his raison d'être what point is there in continuing to live?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Guilt? Why on earth would Dazai feel guilty? He needs his darling to be around him pretty much 24/7 and kidnapping is the safest option for everyone, why should he feel guilty? I mean, who knows what kind of havoc Dazai would wreak if he couldn't have you by his side...

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Dazai's own ability describes exactly just how disconnected from other people he feels, so it's no surprise that he doesn't really understand love. It's the curiosity of what it's like to be human — to be like everyone else — that will compel him to pursue his darling to the point it develops into an obsession. You'll also have to be different enough to keep his attention, perhaps being eccentric in your own way or being extremely hard to read. He can't feel genuine love, at least not like others do, but he can feel intense obsession and that may be even more dangerous.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Unsurprisingly, Dazai enjoys his darling's tears and despair, being the sadist he is. However, he only likes it when he's the cause of your pain or distress, if you were crying because of someone else it would infuriate him to no end.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He appears like the typical delusional and deranged yandere, but he's actually very calculating and certainly lucid. He's fully aware of everything he's doing and how wrong it is, but does he care? Not in the slightest.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Honestly, it's hard to think of ways you could escape Dazai as he is extremely smart and unlike some other yanderes, no matter how compliant you are he will never let down his guard in the slightest. The only possibility is to kill him: whether that's by poisoning his food, smothering him in his sleep or biting down so hard on his neck he bleeds out. Either way, resorting to murder is the most plausible way of escaping.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Of course! What's the point of being with your beloved if you can't inflict a little pain onto them? Pain will be a daily occurrence for you as nothing is more melodic to Dazai than your cries of pain.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

While Dazai doesn't worship you per say, he does see you as ethereal— an angel that he feels compelled to ruin. Since doesn't see himself as human, you are very different to him in his mind. He wants someone else to feel as inhuman as he does, which is why he takes great pleasure in destroying your humanity. He isn't worried about winning you over either; he may appear like he is trying to do so, but he knows that if you don't return his advances he can just make you love him.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As mentioned previously, Dazai can be very patient when he wants to be and has no problem playing the long game if he feels it is necessary. He won't kidnap you immediately: preferring to slowly worm his way into your life so that by the time you realise his true, much darker intentions, it's already too late to escape.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Well, he wants to mould his darling into the perfect submissive little kitten, so yes it is likely he would break them down until all he had to do was rebuild them in the image he wanted. Even if you genuinely love him back and want to be with him, Dazai will still tear down your mental stability to the point of complete reliance on him. He's never experienced any real love from another person before or been in an actual relationship, so it's safe to say his views on love are a little skewed. However, after he had completely broken you, Dazai would feel the closest he can to regret. He doesn't actually want you to be a lifeless doll, but unfortunately he only realises this after you're already too far gone.

[prouvaireafterdark]

See Something You Like? - Malex Sex Shop AU Part 1/2

It’s FINALLY here: the Malex Sex Shop AU you’ve all been waiting for! Well, the first half anyway (Part Two will be out soon!)

I dedicate this fic to my friendly neighborhood Thigh Riding Anon™️, who inspired this fic with her galaxy brain prompt, and all of you who have been patiently waiting for me to finish this absolute monster of a smut fic. I hope you enjoy it! 💜😘

Also on AO3!

***

When Michael moved to California to start his PhD in agricultural engineering, he’d grossly underestimated how expensive the move would be. The stipend that came with his teaching assistantship just barely covers the rent on his studio apartment, and finding a roommate off Craigslist that’s desperate enough to live in such close quarters isn’t exactly an option considering how many alien skeletons Michael’s got in his closet. The vegetables he’s planning on growing in his complex’s shared community garden will help, but if he wants to eat any time soon he’s gonna have to find a part time job.

Enter Jackie and Kris, the delightful middle-aged lesbian couple who live next door and share Michael’s enthusiasm for sustainable gardening and the occasional midnight smoke.

They get to talking one night while passing a bong back and forth over the railing that divides their balconies, first about DIY organic fertilizer and then about Michael’s degree. He lets spill in a moment of weakness that his coursework is a breeze, but he’s worried he’ll run out of money before he can finish the program. As embarrassed as he is about the confession, it ends up saving his life.

Turns out, Jackie and Kris own a sex shop named Pandora’s Box around the corner and have been looking for some help running the storefront while they focus on expanding their online business and organizing safe sex workshops for the local queer and BDSM communities. The hours would be flexible around Michael’s schedule and all they really would need him to do is stand behind the register, ring people up, and answer questions about their products with “affability and professionalism.”

It’s maybe not the work he imagined himself doing when he moved to California for grad school, but for $15/hr, Michael really can’t afford to say no. He sits for an official interview the very next day and leaves Jackie’s home office with a new job and a pot brownie wrapped in tin foil, eager to get started on both.

Monday afternoons at Pandora's Box are the best. They’re notoriously slow so Michael gets to work his shift alone, which gives him ample time to grade the assignments he procrastinated on all weekend while he sits behind the counter.

It’s a Monday afternoon, in fact, about a year and a half later, when Michael hears the bell above the door chime softly to announce the arrival of a customer who would change his life forever.

The first thing Michael notices when he lifts his head from the stack of exams on the counter is the black leather jacket that’s stretched across the man’s broad shoulders. When Michael’s eyes flick up to get a look at the man’s face, he’s met with sharp cheekbones, beautifully tan skin, and a pair of trendy but understated sunglasses. He looks a little lost—unsurprising, since Michael’s certain he would have remembered it if he’d ever seen a man that pretty walk into his shop before—but when he realizes Michael’s looking at him, he flips his sunglasses up onto his artfully messy dark hair and smiles.

And oh, what a smile it is—the most beautiful one Michael has ever seen, soft and sweeter that it has any right to be, his full lips capturing Michael’s attention with ease. His heart pounds in his chest as their eyes lock together, and if Michael didn’t know any better, he’d think he’s just fallen in love with a perfect stranger.

Before Michael can do more than shoot him a dazed smile in return, the man disappears down an aisle.

As a general rule, Michael doesn’t talk to customers who don’t approach him for help first. It’s best practice in a store that sells pornography and sex toys—most customers don’t want to be questioned about their kinks, and those that do usually already know what they’re looking for—but the pull he feels toward this man is undeniable. He’s curious about him for reasons he can’t explain, and as his feet carry him off in the direction the man went, Michael decides not to question it.

Michael weaves casually through the aisles until he finds the man staring up at the floor to ceiling wall display of dildos and other anal toys—because of course he does. He sends a prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that this man isn’t buying something for his girlfriend before he steps in line beside him.

“See something you like?” Michael asks, toning down his customer service voice into something approaching normal human speech.

Up close, he can see the man has a septum piercing, which glints a little in the light. Michael’s seen plenty of people with body jewelry come through this store, but he’s never really thought of it as cute until now.

The man smiles at him, a little shy, but Michael’s not so distracted this time that he misses the way his eyes flick over his body in naked interest, and it leaves him feeling a little hot under the collar.

“I’m not sure yet,” the stranger answers.

Even his voice is nice, Michael notes, deeper than he expects and smooth like honey.

Michael nods in understanding. He gets it—this wall can certainly be intimidating, even for someone who’s been to a sex shop before. He looks the man over again, taking in his charmingly flushed cheeks, and wonders if it’s his first time in a place like this. If maybe he needs a little help after all.

It’s a good thing Michael’s an expert, huh?

He doesn’t want to come at him too strongly, though. Encountering an overbearing sales associate isn’t any more fun than being one, and Michael certainly isn’t looking to push the guy passed his personal boundaries. He may be smitten, but he’s not an asshole.

“Well, if you have any questions about any of our products, my name’s Michael,” he says, flashing him a warm smile.

He’s about to go off in search of a nearby display to straighten up so he can give the man some space, but his voice catches Michael’s attention once more.

“And if I don’t have questions?” the man asks, and when Michael turns to look at him there’s a real smile tugging at his lips this time. “What should I call you then?”

Michael laughs, shaking his head as he shoots back, “Okay, smartass, what should I call you?”

For a single, horrible second after his own words reach his ears, Michael thinks he’s gone too far, but the sudden burst of anxiety in his chest turns out to be for nothing—the man’s grin only grows wider.

“Alex,” he says, and to Michael’s surprise he holds his hand out for him.

Alex’s palm is warm against his when he shakes it, and Michael can’t help but wonder how it would feel anchored in his curls or clutching tight to the skin of his hips.

“So, Alex,” Michael starts, emboldened by the introduction. He finds he likes the way Alex’s name feels in his mouth. “What are you in the market for today?”

Alex flushes a little and it’s so endearing Michael has to bite the inside of his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“That’s the thing—I don’t really know,” Alex answers honestly. “There’s just so many options.”

“Okay, well, let’s start with an easier question: are you shopping for yourself or a significant other?” he asks, and, yeah, maybe he’s planning on filing the answer to his question away for later. Sue him.

Alex looks at him like maybe he suspects ulterior motives, but Michael shamelessly holds his gaze.

“No boyfriend,” Alex says, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I’m looking for something for myself.”

“Fantastic,” Michael smiles, before he slips a little deeper into salesman mode. “So, judging by the aisle we’re standing in, I’m gonna take a leap and say that you’re looking for a toy you can use for internal anal stimulation. Is that right?”

“Yeah. Think you can help me out with that?” Alex asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Definitely,” Michael answers with a smirk before he turns to the wall display. “As you can see, we have a pretty wide selection; you name it, we’ve probably either got it in stock or can have it shipped in three to five business days. Is there a particular price point you’re aiming for?”

Alex seems to think about it. “I’m not really looking to spend more than $100, but I could go up to $150 if it’ll change my life.”

“I can work with that,” Michael assures him. “Any other parameters I should keep in mind?”

“I’ve read that jelly toys can be dangerous, so definitely not anything made out of that,” Alex says, and Michael’s glad to hear he’s done his research. Jelly toys are frustratingly popular because they’re so cheap and Michael usually has to put in a little work to talk people out of buying them.

“Oh yeah, fuck that jelly shit,” Michael agrees, and Alex’s startled laugh makes his heart skip. “They’re impossible to sanitize properly and they’re full of toxic chemicals—you wouldn’t believe the horror stories I’ve heard about them since I started working here. If you’re looking for something with a softer texture, medical grade silicone is really the only way to go. Just make sure you stick to water-based lube or else you could ruin your toy.”

Alex nods thoughtfully, like he’s read that too.

“Glass and metal are also good options,” Michael continues. “They obviously feel a lot harder inside you, but they’re easy to clean, you don’t have to be as careful about what lube you use, and they’re naturally waterproof. They’re excellent for temperature play, too, if you’re into that.”

“Never tried it,” Alex confesses.

“It’s not for everyone, but it can be a fun time,” Michael says, recalling the scorching summer afternoon he spent fooling around with an ice cube tray and a girl he met on Tinder. “So, your options are metal, glass, and silicone. Any preference?”

Michael notices Alex’s eye catching on a set of stainless steel plugs, but he answers, “Silicone for now, I think.”

“Good choice,” Michael replies easily. “So, now that we know what material you’re looking for, let’s talk about your ideal experience. What are you looking to get out of your purchase?”

“An orgasm?” Alex answers, his confusion evident.

Michael laughs. “Sorry, I meant—how would you like to get there? What sort of sensation are you looking for?”

Alex looks a little lost at the question, so Michael turns to plan B.

“See, this one, for example,” Michael says, pointing to a familiar black prostate massager, “is great for when you wanna get off fast and hard. It’s not too thick, so you don’t have to spend a ton of time opening yourself up for it, and the curve puts the tip of it right up on your p-spot. It’s also got a bunch of different vibration settings and get this: It’s waterproof.”

Alex hums in interested acknowledgement, though Michael notes that the longer he talks, the more Alex’s attention is fixed on him, not the toy.

Feeling bold, Michael adds, “I’d advise caution if you’ve got thin walls though.”

“Why, does it make a lot of noise?” Alex asks curiously.

A slow grin spreads across Michael’s lips. “No,” he says with a shake of his head. “But you will.”

Michael watches Alex try and fail to suppress a smile, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“You seem pretty sure of that,” Alex says when he releases it. “That from firsthand experience, or are you just a really good salesman?”

Michael laughs, equal parts delighted by Alex’s flirting and embarrassed by the memory his question brings to mind.

“What?” Alex asks, a smile building on his face.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you,” Michael hesitates, his face heating up just thinking about it. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Aw, come on,” Alex goads him. “Don’t be such a tease.”

Michael gasps in mock offense. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but a tease isn’t one of them.”

“That mean you’re gonna tell me what’s got you blushing like that after all?” Alex asks.

“I’m not blushing,” Michael protests, even though he definitely is.

Alex raises an eyebrow at him. It’s stupidly attractive.

With a huff, Michael considers his options. He doesn’t usually give personal anecdotes like this to customers, but there’s just something about Alex that makes Michael want to give him whatever he wants.

“Fuck it, why not?” Michael says to himself.

Alex smiles victoriously and settles in to listen.

“So, about a year ago, I came in to work and found this box sitting on the table in the break room, which was filled with a bunch of different toys from the company that makes that massager. I asked my boss about it and she said the company sent her a bunch of free samples.”

“Does that happen often?” Alex interrupts to ask. “Companies just send you free stuff?”

“Eh, sometimes, if it’s from a new line of toys that a company wants retailers to hype up,” Michael explains. “It helps that my boss Jackie’s wife Kris has a pretty popular blog where she tests and rates toys, so she gets free stuff all the time.”

“Huh,” Alex says. “So I’m guessing you took one after your shift?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael nods. “Tried it out as soon as I got home.”

“How was it?”

“Intense is about the only word that covers it,” Michael answers. “Those vibrations can be really powerful, it was like nothing else I’d ever tried before. Definitely one of my top ten solo orgasms of all time.”

“Not number one?” Alex asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I came in, like, a minute, so no, not quite,” Michael laughs.

“Is that the embarrassing part?” Alex asks. “That you came so fast?”

“Not quite,” Michael winces, his cheeks flushing. “As I was coming, I screamed so loud that the little old lady whose living room is on the other side of my bedroom called the cops on me. Apparently, she thought I was being murdered.”

“Oh no,” Alex laughs, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “Not exactly the happy ending I was after.”

Alex laughs again, but there’s heat behind his eyes too when he asks, a moment later, “Not usually a screamer, I take it?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Michael winks.

“Mm,” Alex hums thoughtfully. He looks Michael right in the eye as he asks, “Well, what if I don’t want to get off that fast? What if I want to make it last?”

Michael tries not to smile as he gets back to business.

“Well, I should mention that this massager does also have softer levels of vibration intensity, which I only discovered after Officer ACAB knocked on my door,” Michael says.

Alex laughs before asking incredulously, “You didn’t read the instructions?”

“Uh, no,” Michael admits. “I’m more of a ‘take things apart and see how they work’ kinda guy, I’ve never been big on reading the directions.”

“Even after your little misadventure?” Alex asks.

“Hey, don’t knock my process. I got a fantastic orgasm out of that ‘misadventure,’” Michael reminds him.

“How could I forget?” Alex asks, shooting Michael a look that really tests his self-restraint.

Michael huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch the back of his own neck so he doesn’t do something stupid, like push Alex against the fucking dildo display and kiss that look off his face.

“So, anyway,” Michael starts, shifting the topic back toward the task at hand, “you can either learn from my mistakes or you can try something that doesn’t have vibrations at all. We’ve got a great selection of dildos in all shapes and sizes.”

“Do any of them come with a story?” Alex asks cheekily.

Michael snickers in spite of himself. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally. “Let’s see what we’ve got in stock.”

Michael hums as he looks over the display, searching for another recommendation he can make, when his eye catches on a purple dildo with ribbing along the shaft.

“This one’s a good starter dildo,” he says, pointing it out. “It’s a pretty modest size, but the ribbing feels really nice and there’s a suction cup on the bottom if you wanna stick it somewhere and fuck yourself onto it. There’s also a few by the same company that have a hole that you can slide a bullet vibrator into if you wanna get something that can do both.”

“Have you tried them all?” Alex asks.

Michael laughs, looking up at the expansive display of dildos. “Not all of them,” he says, glancing over to Alex as he continues, “but the employee discount here is very generous and, as you already know, sometimes we get free shit. I’ve built up a bit of a collection since I started working here.”

“I see,” Alex replies, the corner of his mouth turning up before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Michael tracks the movement hungrily when Alex releases it a moment later to ask, “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Depends,” Michael shrugs, aiming for nonchalance even though he can feel himself chubbing up in his jeans.

“On?”

“On how full I wanna feel,” Michael answers, and there’s no mistaking the heat that blazes in Alex’s eyes at those words, nor the sudden intake of breath that fills his chest.

If Alex wants him half as much as it looks like he does, Michael doesn’t even care if he gets fired for where this conversation is headed, so long as it ends with Alex’s hands on him.

“See, sometimes all I’m looking for is enough internal stimulation to get the job done,” Michael elaborates, his eyes watching Alex closely. “When I feel like that, I’ll use that prostate massager I showed you earlier on myself.”

Alex’s eyes flick over to the sleek black toy still sitting on the shelf that they’d just discussed.

“And the other times?” Alex asks when he tears his eyes away.

“Other times… other times I really wanna feel it,” Michael purrs, taking a step closer. Alex’s eyes drop right to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and Michael can’t stop himself from asking, “You ever get like that, Alex? Like you just need something thick and heavy filling you up, so deep you’ll be feeling it for days?”

“Yeah,” Alex rasps.

“You wanna know what I fuck myself with then?” he asks.

Alex nods, eyes still on Michael’s mouth.

Michael gives him a sly grin before he backs up a few steps to find the sample of the eight inch galaxy dildo he treated himself to a few months ago. Alex follows him, as if they’re connected by an invisible string.

“This one,” he says, removing it from the shelf and offering it up for Alex’s inspection.

Alex takes it from him, his eyes passing over it with interest as he tests the give of the silicone with his fingers. Michael wonders if he’s imagining what it would look like inside him. He hopes he is.

“It might not look like much compared to some of the fucking horse cocks we sell here, but it’s thick,” Michael says, his cock hardening further the more he thinks about it, the longer Alex stands there holding it. “Takes me some time to work up to it, but it’s always worth it when I do.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, eyes fixed where he’s shifting his hold on the dildo to measure it’s thickness with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Michael breathes, watching how Alex wraps his thumb and forefinger in a tight circle around the toy. They only just touch around its girth.

Alex hums to himself, sounding pleased, and Michael’s gut churns with the need to hear that sound again.

“I bet this stretches you out nice, huh,” Alex wonders a moment later, and with the way he stares at Michael then, like he’s trying to picture how he would look stuffed full, his rim taught over the silicone, he just knows Alex isn’t speaking generically.

“Yeah, it does,” Michael agrees quietly, trying not to squirm under the intensity of Alex’s gaze.

“How do you use it?” Alex asks him, stoking the flames inside him further.

“If you play your cards right, you just might find out,” Michael shoots back.

“You’d let me watch?” Alex asks, a smile teasing at his lips, and it’s all Michael can do not to get lost in the idea of riding that toy while Alex watches with his hand around his cock.

“Think I’d let you do more than that,” Michael admits.

Alex full-on grins at that, but before he can open his mouth to reply someone clears their throat behind them.

Michael’s heart seizes in his chest as he whips around to see Jenna Cameron, a regular customer and occasional drinking buddy of his, standing with her thumbs tucked into her police-issue gun belt. Michael can feel his erection flag at the sight of her.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some service around here, Guerin?” Cameron asks, somehow managing to look annoyed and amused simultaneously. He notices there’s a discreet black plastic bag dangling from her fingers. “I’ve got places to be.”

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t hear anyone else come in,” Michael apologizes, trying and failing to keep a blush off his face.

“I can see that,” she answers with a pointed glance at Alex.

Michael takes an instinctive step away from him and clears his throat.

“I’ve gotta—“ he says to Alex, jerking his thumb behind him.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, eyes on his shoelaces. It makes the pleasure that had been coiling in his belly sour further.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael tells him, soft enough that Cameron won’t overhear.

The smile Alex gives him in return is encouraging enough that Michael’s fairly certain he won’t disappear if he leaves, so he follows Cameron back toward the register, all the while pointedly ignoring the smirk he can feel her directing at the side of his face.

He walks around the other side of the cash wrap and crosses his arms over his chest before he asks her, without an ounce of enthusiasm, “What do you want?”

“Damn, you’re really earning that employee of the month trophy aren’t you, Guerin?” she jokes, tossing the bag on the table. “I bought a harness this weekend, but it was broken when I took it out of the box. Receipt’s in the bag.”

Michael takes the box the leather strap-on harness came in out of the bag along with the receipt.

“Do you want a refund or an exchange?”

“Refund,” she says. “I’m thinking about getting one of those strapless ones instead.”

“You should talk to Kris, she’s got opinions about those,” he says as he starts scanning the receipt.

“Oh?” Cameron asks. “Is she here?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “You can catch her at the bondage workshop she’s running later though.”

“Perfect,” she replies before leaning forward onto the counter on her elbows. “So are you gonna tell me who the hottie with the nose ring you were talking to is?”

“Why, so you can find out if he’s got any priors?” Michael jokes, not taking his eyes off his task.

“Very funny,” Cameron deadpans. “You fuck him yet?”

“None of your business,” Michael answers.

“So that’s a no, then,” she smirks, and Michael lets out a long-suffering sigh in response.

“Don’t you have places to be? Donuts to eat?” he asks, pushing her return receipt hastily in her direction.

Before Cameron can answer, the front door swings open and in walks a short middle-aged woman with a dark brown pixie cut carrying an iced coffee and a stack of papers.

Michael startles at the sight of her, realizing it must be later in his shift than he’d thought—exactly how long had he stood there talking to Alex?—but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Kris!” Michael calls to her. “Perfect timing, Cam’s got some strap-on questions for you.”

“Well, I’ve got some strap-on answers,” Kris answers cheerfully as she walks around them to drop the stack of papers—freshly-printed but yet-to-be-folded safe sex pamphlets, Michael notices—onto the counter next to the second register. “Step into my office, baby girl.”

Cameron shoots Michael a look before she steps to the side to talk to Kris, who’s leaning patiently against the side of the cash wrap.

With Cameron finally out of his hair but Kris close enough to notice him leave, Michael starts planning his escape so he can find Alex again, but it turns out he doesn’t need one. When he looks up after putting Cam’s broken harness in the bin under the counter, he sees the man in question approaching his register with a familiar black box in his hands.

“I was gonna wait for you,” Alex explains as he sets the box on the counter, “but I’m actually supposed to be meeting my brother soon.”

“Shame,” Michael says, wishing they had more time. “I was looking forward to finishing that conversation.”

Alex glances covertly at Kris and Cameron before he leans a hair closer and says, “Don’t know that it was the conversation you were hoping to finish.”

Michael blushes, casting a look at Kris and Cameron to make sure they’re too engrossed in their conversation to notice when he leans in a little further and says, low so only Alex will hear, “What can I say? I’m very committed to customer satisfaction.”

Alex laughs, a bright and happy sound that makes Michael’s heart feel strangely full, before he asks, “You charm all your customers like this?”

“No,” Michael says honestly. “Not even a little bit.”

Alex looks at him for a long minute, trying to spot the lie, and when he finds none he merely shakes his head with an incredulous smile.

“Lucky me,” he says.

Michael winks at him before he turns his attention to the box on the counter, shifting it in his hands until he finds the barcode. He usually never comments on his customers’ purchases, but with this one he simply can’t resist.

“Went with the prostate massager, huh?” Michael asks, as he rings him up.

“What can I say?” Alex answers, a smile creeping onto his face. “You made me curious.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” Michael says.

“No,” Alex replies, and the way he looks at him then makes Michael wonder if they’re still talking about the massager. “I don’t think I will.”

Michael smiles at him before he tells him his total. Alex inserts the end of his card in the reader and his receipt prints a brief moment later.

“Can you sign here?” Michael asks, passing Alex the merchant’s copy of his receipt and the green pen he’d been grading with earlier.

“Mhm,” Alex hums, plucking the pen from his fingers and signing his name in a delicate script.

Michael ducks under the counter to find a bag adequately sized for Alex’s purchase before he places the box inside it along with Alex’s copy of the receipt.

“You’re all set,” Michael says, pushing the box in Alex’s direction.

“Thanks,” Alex smiles, holding the merchant copy of the receipt out for Michael to take. “And this is for you.”

Their fingers brush as Michael takes it from him and Michael swears he can feel the tension crackling between them at the simple touch.

“Thanks,” Michael says, mouth a little dry.

Alex glances back to Kris and Cam before he says, “Have a nice day, Michael.”

“You too,” Michael says, his eyes straying pointedly to the black bag in Alex’s hand.

“Oh, I will,” Alex says, one corner of his lips lifting up into a smile before he turns and heads for the door.

Michael can’t help but watch his ass and those broad shoulders as he leaves.

Once Alex is gone, Michael unfolds the receipt Alex left for him. He’s about to slide it into the folder they keep by the register for receipts when he notices the phone number printed neatly beside Alex’s signature. Below, Alex has also written the words: Hit me up if you want to hear my review.

“You strike out?”

Michael startles, looking up to see Cameron leaning on the counter, a lot closer than she was a moment ago. He sees Kris at the far end, folding her papers into pamphlets for her workshop later.

“Not quite,” Michael grins and pockets the receipt.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Flirtation and Fistfights

Supernatural/Criminal Minds

Word Count: ~2940

Warnings: Drinking, pot smokin’, and (in case you couldn’t guess from the title) a fistfight. Somebody is giving a homeless woman a hard time, Spencer and Dean do not appreciate it.   

A/N: This is part of the Rockstar AU! It’s also for my Rockstar AU square on my Criminal Minds Trope Bingo card. Convenient, right? 

Lemming line inspired by an Ao3 tag. Continued cheerleading for this series provided by @stunudo​, who is wonderful. 

Spot the “It Takes A Village” reference! 

The post-show adrenaline rush is made even sweeter by the fact that there’s a hot tub and a couple easy days in Dean’s near future. The first L.A. show is in the bag. They have another tomorrow — same venue means minimal gear-schlepping and setup, thank fuck — followed by a full day off. 

Neither band has played L.A. in a while, and Dean’s seen a few familiar faces milling around already. It’s nice, aside from the small talk, but he’s used to that; the way he travels, he rarely has time to stay in one place and get to know people beyond the basics. He’s perfected the spiel: “tour’s been great, we’re going into the studio when it’s over, how’s your kid/spouse/dog?” etc. There are a bunch of those conversations happening around him, but people are starting to trickle out slowly, friends and acquaintances heading home or closing out. 

While they’re here, they’re staying at Casa de Pop Star, and Dean can’t lie, he’s looking forward to some poolside naps, movies on a decent-sized screen, and various other creature comforts. 

He’s getting another drink first, though. He leans up against the venue bar and looks around. 

At the end of the bar, Spencer is talking to a blonde, and it takes Dean a second to place her: Lila Archer, movie star and all-around hottie. Dean gapes at them for a second. He can’t see Spencer’s face, but she’s clearly flirting, standing close and putting a hand on his arm. Dean had no idea the kid had game like that. Granted, he and Spencer aren’t exactly close, but. 

Dean hasn’t figured him out yet. Dean is usually good at figuring out what makes people tick, what they’re hiding behind their masks, but he can’t make heads or tails of whatever the fuck happens in Spencer’s head. He has this way of looking at Dean as if he’s an alien species, or something, all bemused and vaguely perturbed like he can’t make sense of the words that just came out of Dean’s mouth. 

Then again, Spencer’s high more often than not, and they don’t exactly have a lot in common, and he’s a goddamn space cadet even when he’s sober, so... maybe he just really doesn’t know what Dean’s talking about half the time. 

He’s not like that with everybody, is the thing; Sam and Spencer got along immediately. They have this whole quirky dork thing going on where they talk in half-sentences that don’t make sense to anybody else. 

Not that Dean’s jealous or anything. Whatever.  

Dean’s drink arrives and he’s distracted for a moment, but when he looks again, Spencer’s shaking his head. Lila’s face falls. A second later, he’s giving her an awkward little wave, and she heads for the door. 

Yeah, Dean’s not usually one for gossip, but he really wants to know what the fuck just happened. Maybe Spencer’s one of those geeks who’s just completely fuckin’ oblivious when chicks are hitting on them? Dean can set him straight. It’ll be a bonding exercise. 

He weaves through the crowd to where Spencer is downing the last of his drink. 

“Tell me you did not just shoot down Lila Archer.”  

Spencer makes a face. “I could tell you that, but I’d be lying.” 

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean laughs. “Did she just march up and introduce herself? I didn’t know she was coming to the show.” 

“I met her at a party a while ago,” Spencer tells him. He’s looking up at the ceiling pensively, avoiding eye contact as he shreds a napkin. “In New York, when she was still in school. I, um. She’d been talking to this skeevy guy, and I saw him slip something in her drink, so.” 

“What did you do?” 

“Grabbed it and threw it in his face,” Spencer admits sheepishly. “And then I got punched, and she offered to, um, take me home and thank me, but I was kinda bleeding a lot. She gave me her number instead.” 

“That’s… actually pretty badass,” Dean comments. Spencer gives him half a smile. “So you guys kept in touch?” 

“She moved to L.A. not long after that. We’ve hung out a couple times, when I’ve been in town, but… I don’t think we’re interested in the same thing.” 

Dean almost smacks himself on the forehead. “I didn’t realize you were into dick, sorry.” 

“Oh, I’m not.” 

There’s a pause. Spencer doesn’t seem mad; his mouth is quirked in something resembling a smile, like he’s laughing at Dean for not asking the right questions. 

Is Spencer just like that, or is he not offering any more information because he wants this conversation to be over? 

Whatever. Dean’s curious. 

“So, you’re into chicks but not Lila friggin’ Archer? Are you telling me she’s not your type? 

“It’s not that,” Spencer says, smirking. 

Dean blinks a couple times. Emily told him the other day that everybody in the band except Hotch was single, so… he’s coming up blank. 

“You gotta give me a hint or something.”

“I’m not into sex,” Spencer says, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh.” Dean hesitates, taking a drink to hide his surprise. “Huh. Is that… huh. Are you — are you out, or whatever?” 

“I’m not not out.” Spencer shrugs. “Most people just assume, one way or the other, and I don’t bother to correct them. I just… don’t really care what people think about me, so if they don’t ask, I don’t bother. I’m not hiding anything, though.” 

“Huh,” Dean repeats. He has no idea what to say. 

“If I do tell them, most people argue with me anyway,” Spencer says wryly. “Tell me I’ll change my mind when I meet the right person, or whatever. I tell them they’re probably right and change the subject.” 

Dean huffs out a laugh. “That doesn’t piss you off?”

“Sorta, but…” Spencer grimaces, fidgeting for a second. “I don’t like confrontation, or whatever. It’s not important. I’d rather just… not talk about myself.”  

“Sorry for… y’know.” 

“No biggie.” 

Dean still feels awkward, but Spencer doesn’t seem bothered. He just sits there, tapping out a rhythm on the bar top, smiling to himself. 

Dean doesn’t do well with silences. 

It occurs to him that he has a peace offering: “Wanna come outside and smoke a joint with me? Could use some fresh air.” 

“Hell yes I do,” Spencer says, brightening immediately.  

They make their way backstage and then through the labyrinthine venue hallways until they come out at the back lot, where the buses are idling. Hotch is on his phone across the lot, and a bouncer near the fence is saying something into a walkie-talkie, but for the most part, it’s quiet. 

Dean lights the joint and offers Spencer the first hit, leaning back against the brick wall. 

“Y’know, nobody’s ever actually asked me about my sexuality,” Dean tells him, and he’s not in the habit of volunteering information like that, but it seems to get Spencer’s attention. 

“Really?” 

“I didn’t ever think about it, until… recently. But it’s true. A fuckload of interviews, over the years, and like you said, everybody just assumes.” 

“Because you don’t contradict people’s ideas of what a man should look like, or talk like, or dress like,” Spencer says bluntly. “As long as you fit within a certain box…” He shrugs, blowing smoke up at the sky. 

“Yeah, my dad was big on that box,” Dean says ruefully. “Wouldn’t he be proud?” 

“Bet it won’t take long for them to start asking. Not if you keep wearing nail polish.” 

Dean takes the joint and frowns at his hands. He hadn’t even thought about that. 

“Really? That’s all it takes?” he asks. 

Spencer just snorts. Dean’s stomach does a nervous flip-flop. 

He’s got an interview with Spin scheduled for next week, and he doubts anybody will comment right away, but eventually... eventually there will be questions. What will he say, if they ask? 

He’s still lost in thought, looking down at his free hand, as he exhales and passes to Spencer. With his eyes on the chipped green polish, it takes him a second to realize that Spencer hasn’t grabbed the joint. 

Dean looks up. Spencer is staring intently at something off to their side, and Dean follows his gaze over to the chain link fence and roll-away gate that separates them from the road. There’s a homeless woman there, hands over her ears, pacing back and forth. The security guy is saying something to her, his voice raised, as he starts to pull the gate open. 

Spencer moves abruptly, striding away from Dean without a word, and Dean hesitates for a second before pinching out the joint and following him. 

As he gets closer, Dean can make out what the bouncer is saying, in a loud, condescending voice like he’s talking to a toddler: “Move. Away. From. The. Gate. Jesus Christ, can you fuckin’ hear me?” 

The woman is muttering to herself agitatedly, and she flinches away from the guy’s voice, but she doesn’t look up from her feet as she paces. 

“What are you doing?” Spencer snaps at the guard. The edge in his tone makes Dean hurry to catch up. 

“She won’t get outta the way,” he says, rolling his eyes. He turns to the woman again and shouts, “Hell-looooo, anybody home?” 

“Have you tried speaking to her like she’s a goddamn human being?” Spencer says, low and clipped. 

“Whoa, hey,” Dean says uneasily. Not that he doesn’t want to head-butt this asshole, but Spencer’s a quarter of the guy’s mass, at best.

“You wanna give it a try?” the guy scoffs. “Trust me, she’s not getting the picture. I’m gonna call the cops.” He directs the last words at the woman, who’s still pacing, more and more agitated: “Crazy bitch.”

“You should apologize now,” Spencer says, sharp and quiet and ice-cold. Dean puts a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, and Spencer shoves it away without looking at him. 

The bouncer has the nerve to laugh. “Calm the fuck down, buddy.” 

“This is calm, and I’m not your fucking buddy,” Spencer snaps, taking another step closer. 

“Dude,” Dean interrupts. “Spencer, c’mon.” 

Spencer’s frozen for a moment, shaking with anger, but after a second, he steps back reluctantly. He reminds Dean of a hissing cat with its back arched and its claws exposed. 

“There you go, listen to your boyfriend,” the bouncer laughs. 

Dean considers him for a half-second, works up some saliva, and spits in his face. 

Everything moves quick and blurry after that; the guy shoves Dean back, cursing, and there’s a shout in the distance as he winds up. Before Dean can duck out of the way of the guy’s fist, Spencer steps in front of him — only to go flying, because he’s a fucking twig and should really know better. Dean sees red. He punches back. 

Then Hotch has the guy’s arms pinned behind his back, hauling him away, and Sam is grabbing Dean’s wrist before he can take another swing. Spencer grunts something incoherent from the ground. At least he’s conscious. 

“Motherfucker,” Dean snaps. “I’m fine, Sam, get off me.” He shakes out his smarting hand and glares daggers at the bouncer’s retreating back as Hotch and Rossi manhandle him into the building. Spencer makes a pained noise; he’s cupping his hands over his nose, and there’s blood dripping between his fingers. 

“Dean?” Cas is jogging over, Morgan behind him. He puts a hand on Dean’s arm, looking him up and down anxiously. “What happened?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Dean says gruffly, and turns to Spencer. “You okay, kid?” 

“‘M fide,” Spencer mumbles. “Is she still…” 

Dean glances over. The woman is sitting with her back to the fence, curled up with her arms around her knees. 

“Fuck,” Dean mutters. “What should I —”

“I got it,” Cas tells him, and slips through the gate, approaching the woman with an easy, open smile. 

Cas was homeless for a while. Dean hates hearing him talk about it — not because it makes Cas sad, but exactly the opposite; he’s so matter-of-fact about the whole thing that it makes Dean sad. He tells stories, sometimes, and he’s completely fuckin’ blasé even when he’s talking about things that make Dean ache to think about. 

Dean hovers for a second. Sam is crouching next to Spencer, holding his balled-up flannel to Spencer’s nose, and Dean feels useless. There’s gotta be something he can do to help. 

Then he remembers something Cas said, once, and he turns his back on the scene and jogs off to the bus. 

He makes a beeline for the bunk under his, which is designated for storage. He’s got an almost-new backpack he’s been using as an overnighter, when he doesn’t want to lug his whole suitcase into a hotel; he dumps it out unceremoniously. 

He grabs a blanket first, the soft fleece one, rolling it up tight to stick it in the backpack. Then there’s a big hoodie, one Dean borrowed from their merch table the other day. He has a whole collection of tiny sealed soaps and shampoos from various hotels, and he runs to the kitchen to put them in a zip-lock bag. In the bathroom, he grabs a pack of wet wipes, the packaged spare toothbrush that Charlie keeps for “emergencies” — aka when she inevitably leaves hers at a hotel — and about half of their first aid kit. Then he ransacks the kitchen: several packs of ramen, a box of pop-tarts, couple bottles of water… he pauses, considering Sam’s nasty-ass granola bars, before tossing them in too. Sam can get more. He fishes the cash out of his wallet, shoves it in a zip-lock, and then closes the whole mess up. 

Then for a second he just freezes, looking down at the backpack, wondering if he’s being presumptuous or some shit. 

Dean’s always been suspicious of so-called “Good Samaritans.” Everything has strings attached. If it were him, he wouldn’t accept unsolicited help, but he’s been told that’s maybe a psychological flaw, not a virtue. 

Cas told him once about a woman named Hannah (he called her an angel) who gave him a backpack of supplies when he first ended up on the street. Said she probably saved his life. It’s one of those stories Dean doesn’t like to think about, but… he remembers. 

When he hustles back to the fence, Spencer is on his feet, Sam’s bloody flannel clutched to his face as he talks to Rossi and Morgan. 

Cas is still with the woman, who is on her feet, now, looking rattled but much calmer than she did before. Cas is talking to her in that direct, no-bullshit way he has; it’d be off-putting, from anybody else, but Cas is so earnest that it’s comforting instead. 

The woman looks wary, when she sees Dean approaching, so he hangs back until Cas comes to him. 

“I grabbed some stuff,” he says anxiously. “I didn’t know… is that weird? It’s just, like, shampoo and a blanket and — sorry. I didn’t know what to do.” 

Cas just stares at him for a second, his expression completely unreadable. Dean’s stomach sinks. 

“You remembered,” Cas says hoarsely, just as Dean opens his mouth to apologize.  

The back of Dean’s neck feels hot. “Yeah?” 

Cas gives him a quick, fierce, affectionate smile. He reaches out and squeezes Dean’s arm once before taking the bag. 

“There’s a shelter a couple blocks away. I’m going to walk her there. I’ll be back shortly.” 

He watches Cas go, and then he turns to see Spencer staring at them. Dean clears his throat uncomfortably. 

“Thanks, Schroeder,” he says. 

Spencer gives him that look again, like he has no idea what Dean is talking about. Maybe he’s concussed. He lowers the flannel, revealing a mess of dried blood and the beginnings of an impressive shiner. 

“Y’had my back,” he says thickly. Even through his rapidly-swelling nose, it sounds a lot like “Duh.” 

“The venue manager wants to talk to you,” Rossi announces. “Hotch saw enough to make it clear that the guy threw the first punch, so he’s most definitely getting fired, but just in case, they want it in your words.” 

“Fan-friggin-tastic,” Dean grouches. “Well, let’s get it over with. There’s a fuckin’ hot tub waiting for us, I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” 

“You sure you’re alright?” Rossi asks Spencer. “I swear, kid, you have the self-preservation instincts of a damn lemming.” 

“‘M’fide,” Spencer repeats, which is close enough to “fine,” apparently, that Rossi doesn’t push the issue. 

“You gotta be more careful with that pretty face of yours,” Morgan says, and Spencer flips him off. 

As he falls into step with Dean, heading back to the venue, Spencer mumbles, “Why d’I feel like I’b being sent t’the Princibal?” 

Dean chuckles, trying to imagine what a tiny (tinier) Spencer would’ve gotten in trouble for. 

“Hey, you mind tellin’ me why you just went feral on a guy who was the size of a fuckin’ hippo?” he asks.  

“Don’t like... bullies,” Spencer replies, clearly making an effort to enunciate. 

“Weren’t you just telling me how you try to avoid confrontation?”

“S’different.” Spencer shrugs. “Pisses me off. Don’t really care what happens to me, but —” 

“That’s healthy,” Dean needles. 

Spencer’s not looking at him, but his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to grin. “Takes one to know one.” 

Dean stops in his tracks and sputters for a second, turning a snort of laughter into a huff like he’s offended. Then he shakes his head and they keep walking.  

“Thanks,” Dean says again. “That was really fucking stupid, but thanks.” 

“You would’ve done the same for me,” Spencer says, like it’s a given.   

Dean smiles, because he’s right. Maybe he has more in common with Spencer than he thought. 

.

.

.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 27: Cloud - Rainfall Skies

Rain is a wonderful thing and there’s a certain wonderful magic about it. Especially for those who need a little water to rejuvenate their heart, soul, and mind. Danny loves the rain.

Danny walks with his head tilted skyward, letting the rain splash and bounce off his face. It was a nice feeling and it made the world around him smell clean and clear. Sure there was the faint hint of lime from all the ectoplasm contaminated water that’s evaporated up into the thick swirling clouds, but he finds he doesn’t particularly mind nor care. If anything it made the rain all the sweeter, making it a more vibrant gem-like blue and the droplets taste like sugar water on his tongue.

He liked the rain, it never rained in the Ghost Zone and ghosts would instinctively go intangible to let earths rain simply pass through their bodies. He always suppressed that urge and impulse.

Stopping at a stoplight and staring up unblinking, the water getting in his eyes hardly bothers him. In fact, he hardly notices in the slightest. Staring up, it can almost be like the world around him has fallen away, leaving just him and the patter of the rain. The clouds move slowly, sluggishly, almost as if still. He finds he appreciates the lack of wind. Rain is better when it’s just rain, no thunder nor lightning nor wind. Just rain in its purest simplest form. Unchanged and consistently pattering down; and the clouds are dark enough that it gives off the illusion of nighttime, he can almost imagine the stars beyond the dark heavy cover of clouds. Like the stars are just resting on top of the clouds as if they’re a mattress.

Shaking his head and looking to the ground as the streetlight beeps signalling it’s time to cross, watching his old worn-out shoes splash into the small vibrating puddles. Watching the neon green drip off him and dilute into those puddles. He knows the rain’s not doing much to clean him off, he can’t say he really cares. Instead, he’s just enjoying the heavy feeling of being soaked to the bone. The rain lets him imagine that it’s only water to blame for that wetness.

He knows many people like to say that rain is the sky crying, in a way he understands how and why the sky might cry for him. But he likes to think the sky is laughing and dancing so much it can’t help but splatter some of its water down. Chuckling as he jumps a bit to splash in a puddle, twirling around and sticking out his arms. Rain was a happy thing, made the world feel like it was lost in time. Like the whole world was content to just lose itself for a while in the feeling of clean water and the music it makes upon the ground.

Spinning a bit more before deciding to walk backwards and watch the sky some more, humming a soft tune, “the rain falls gently above our heads, reminding us that we aren’t dead”. And that, that probably says a lot about how he feels.

It only rained in the land of the living, and he was part of it. The rain was his to experience and to experience with the rest of humanity. The rain danced and sang with life, a gift of the clouds. And it danced and bounced and soaked his skin without fail, like it was telling him he was just as alive and deserving of the thing that kept the earth alive and growing. Nothing could live without water after all, not even him.

Cupping his hands to pool some of the rain, watching it slowly build up and faintly reflect him back at himself. Green-tinted water dripping from his hair into the puddle forming, ah he should at least attempt to get clean. Once he feels he’s built up enough he splashes it on his face. Shaking his hands off and hair side to side, he doesn’t need to look to see the green splattering the ground like it was part of the rain itself. At least the green wasn’t his own, mostly.

Some ghosts were just vicious and required viciousness in return. He appreciates the cleansing rain as a reprieve from that. Something to clean him inside and out. Left him with the feeling of contentment and whimsy. Even a bit of a feeling of a complete lack of feeling. As if his mind and body were still, fresh, and without care. It was nice when he spent so much of his time and energy caring and hurting and fighting. And the rain kept the ghosts away, none wanting to fight in the pouring down water. It really was a reprieve from everything. Rain washed away cares or worries, washed away time and space, washed away sounds and aches. It was nice. It was comfy. It was freedom in a way.

Though he knows he has to go home soon. He finds he can’t bring himself to mind that. He’ll get there. Eventually. In the meantime, the rain will wash away what of the red and green it can, the overworked muscles and broken bones, clean out the cuts and scrapes. And when he gets where he’s going, maybe all they’ll see is the son soaked wet to the bone and not the soldier returning home from the battlefield. For now, he tilts his head back and opens his mouth. Smiling almost child-like and playfully at the gurgling pattering sounds that makes inside his throat. Like catching snowflakes on his tongue, it made him feel young and new like a young babe; in a way the stars just couldn’t anymore. As those stars carried thoughts of the childhood dream that was so very far out of reach. The stars hurt like they were as sharp as they looked on a clear night sky sometimes, the rain was always soft and whipped away everything else. He was a canvas freshly painted red and green, the rainwater splashing it off before its had a chance to dry. The canvas still gets stained of course, but it feels less permanent and noticeable. Like the sky is telling him ‘hey, you have the chance to paint yourself with more colours than just the blood of the living and dead’. That was something of a lie of course, but the rain made him believe it for a while. And that was as strong and heavy a support as the rain made his clothing feel.

Plus, if you have to cry then do it in the rain, no one will notice. Maybe not even you.

His body doesn’t feel in the mood for that though, too tired and worn to muster that kind of effort. Crying was heavy and hard, dancing and splashing was light as air. He twirls a little more, soaked fabric slapping against his scarred torso; not that he notices. The rain made the gouged in ones feel filled in again. The raised jagged ones, smooth. Any discolouration simply no longer mattered, the sun may show them bright but the rain blurs. It is sweet and he is alright.

Everything is alright.

Right here. Right now. Because the rain is free and sweet and gentle and everything. Releasing its wet weight upon the world and making his drip off him in kind. Weight those clouds have gained from all the earthly water it’s taken in. Water with all its pollutants and spilled blood and swimming life and long drowned dead. No different than him. A little halfa absorbing the world’s violence and intolerance and hatred and pain. The clouds sending down their cleaned refreshing rains, though tainted too. Just like the hope he hopes he splashes onto others.

Stopping in front of his house and staring at the sign, sticking his hands in his pockets and forcing back up his guards and paranoias. Yet still, even the harsh sign that lit up his strange home was seen softened by the rain. Making it seem more as if it glowed faintly rather than shone brightly. It felt more like returning to a comforting cup of hot chocolate from that brand you grew up with, rather than the place of cold scientific minds and where he and his dreams died.

He sends a small fleeting look to the rain thick clouds, wishing he could stay bathed in them for longer. But time, though it feels unreal in the presence of rain, waits for no man. Especially not him.

Pushing in the door, he’s hardly surprised to be met with his mother's only vaguely shocked words, “Danny, you’re soaked and why are you dripping slightly green”. Like usual, she doesn’t sound like she expects an answer from him.

He shrugs loosely, the rains calm still sticking with him, “rain. Ghost rain”, might as well take a bit more of a reprieve from the rain and pass the blame in a sense. She hums and doesn’t question him as he waves and heads up to his room.

Stripping off his soaked clothes and watching the rain patter against the window and fall through the air to hit the ground below. It’s muffled and less real this way, but it’s still nice.

It’s nice too, hearing the rain tinking on the roof as he showers. The waterfall of a shower was always artificial in a way that the rain simply didn’t even know how to be. He chooses to lay naked on the floor and just listen for a while before getting up to head to bed. Where he’ll wrap himself in blankets stained faintly green and red and lay his head down on a pillow too old to give much support or comfort. He’ll watch the rain fall through the window, watch it pool a little in the cracks and on the ledge. And then he’ll sleep, and it’ll be sun in the morning and he’ll struggle through school and fight another fight, as if tonight and it’s rain never happened.

It’s alright.

He’s alright.

He doesn’t mind.

There’ll be rain again some other day. Some other time. He’ll rest again then.

End.

[mint-yooxgi]

Red Silk - Slight Yandere!Incubus!Jongdae X Reader

Slight Yandere!AU & Incubus!AU - Part of the 12 Days of Lust collab

Disclaimer: I agreed to write this as part of this collab before everything with Jongdae was announced. If this fic makes you uncomfortable, you do not have to read it. I am simply using him as a face claim, nothing more.

Genre: Horror, Angst, Mature, Smut (Sub/Dom Themes, Restraints)

Pairing: Jongdae X Reader

Words: 5,334

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

Summary: Living in an apartment complex, preying on the innocent became almost second nature to Jongdae. Careless whispers into the night of countless victims claiming to love him never meant anything to him, until you came along. Now, he will stop at nothing to have you, wanting to bind you to him for all eternity. He’s fallen for you, but is it even possible for a demon to love?

A/n: My apologies if this story seems rushed, as I went for a slightly different approach when writing it this time. Please do check out the other fics in the collab by some other amazing writers if you have a chance! I hope you enjoy. As always, I do not believe Jongdae would act like this, this is just my interpretation of the archetype. There will be no part two to this. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

He finds it almost comical. The reactions he gets from his victims of the previous evening whenever they see him in the hallway. Many are embarrassed, for how could they be having dirty thoughts and dreams about their kind, unsuspecting neighbour? That is, if he lets them remember.

He usually only lets a few remember their dreams from the previous night, mainly for his own entertainment purposes. Seeing them shy away from him, or avoid his gaze when he sends them a smile in the hallway simply feeds his amusement.

Never has he returned to a victim more than once, for he hasn’t felt the need to. Many of his victims are delusional anyways, thinking that this one night of passion within their subconscious means something more. 

Some even go so far as to confess their love or adoration during these times, only serving to annoy him. All he wants to do is feed, not hear about the feelings of his food. Most of the time, he can block it out, but more often than not, it’s too hard to ignore. It’s starting to really get on his nerves.

As a demon, Jongdae has never known, or felt, love. He doesn’t even know if it’s possible for him to love, but he hasn’t ever wanted to know, or tried, for that matter. He always found it trivial, in a sense. Something humans use as a distraction from their everyday lives. 

The news of a new tenant moving in next door peaks his interest. There hasn’t been a new resident in his building for at least six months, and his options are starting to run dry. He’s ready for a fresh face, a fresh start. A fresh meal.

He has to admit, living out an ordinary life in amongst his victims is a fairly wise choice, not to mention easy. Every week or so, he can choose a new victim who is willing to let him into their mind. All he has to do is just put a passing thought through their mind about him, and see if he in turn peaks their interest. If that’s the case, he’s in for a good meal that night, as long as the subject is willing.

The day you move in next door, he does his best to make a good first impression on you. The smile you give him when he offers to help you bring in some of the boxes for you causes a subtle smirk to pull at his lips. This is a good start, and hopefully, by the end of the week he’ll be able to have you all to himself.

By the time he’s finished helping you bring in all your boxes, he watches you plop yourself into one of your chairs in the corner of your living room. He almost misses the way you tilt your head back and roll your neck from all the boxes scattered around blocking his view, but he catches it, and something within him jolts. He finds it odd.

Opening your eyes once more, you notice him already staring at you, seemingly zoned out.

“Oh, sorry, normally I would ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, but I literally have no food,” you say, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you grip the arms of the chair in your hands nervously.

“It’s alright,” he smiles back at you. “I get it. If you want I can order a pizza?”

“That’s really nice of you,” you pull yourself up and back onto your feet, “but no thanks. I get that I just moved in and everything, and you seem like a nice guy, but I don’t want you getting the wrong impression.”

Shit. Can you tell what he is? There’s been a few witches and spiritual people he’s come across that could tell what he was almost immediately, so maybe you’re one of them. His heart nearly skips a beat in his chest in worry. Was he too forward with his intent?

“I-“ He feels like a fish out of water, for he doesn’t know what to say.

“Last time I just moved in to a new place, I had three different neighbours all hit on me within the first week, one of them even helped me move in like you did,” you say. “And now you’re giving me the wide-eyed look… fuck, you’re probably just a nice guy- look, I’m sorry, I’m probably just talking myself into a hole here. Why don’t we just start over?”

“Okay,” he trails off slightly, watching as you breathe a small sigh of relief. He thinks it’s cute how flustered you get.

“Anyways, I’m (Y/n), your new neighbour. Thank you for helping me bring some stuff in,” you smile at him once more, and he blinks once before smiling back at you.

“It’s no problem,” he replies. “If you ever need anything, I’m right next door, so don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks,” you say, leading him to the door before bidding him a good evening, before proceeding to close the door in his face.

He lets out a small sigh in disappointment. He was hoping to get to know you a bit better, but it looks like you have a higher guard than he originally thought you did. He could tell his staring made you a bit uncomfortable once he thought about it, hence your reaction. Looks like you’ll be a bit of a tougher prey to catch, which will make his reward all the more sweeter when he does get to indulge himself in you.

For the next week, you continue to plague his thoughts, filling much of his mind with fantasies about you and what it’ll be like once he’s finally able to have you to himself. Though, he finds it strange, considering he’s never thought this intensely about his next victim. So much so, that the next time he invades someone’s subconscious, he imagines that it’s you he’s with, and not Bethany from twelve-c.

Every time he sees you in the hallway, he makes an attempt to talk to you, wanting to bury himself into your subconscious just as you’ve infected his. He asks questions, mainly to get to know you better, but also to gouge a sense of what you like and don’t like. So far, you’re an anomaly of which he cannot figure out.

Looks like his regular approach isn’t going to work in his favour.

  It takes him another full week with him talking to you in passing until you genuinely invite him over for dinner one evening. You tell him not to think too much into it, but he can’t help it. Maybe you’re finally opening up to him.

He can’t wait for it to just be the two of you. Maybe this opportunity will give him a chance to figure out these weird feelings he’s been having about you recently. However, stepping into your apartment reveals two of your friends already sitting in your living room, sipping on drinks of their own.

They introduce themselves as Hyuna and Kaylee, your two closest friends. He can feel Kaylee not so subtly check him out, and usually it wouldn’t bother him since it’s what he’s used to, given his species, but since it’s in your home, your living room, in your presence, it makes him uncomfortable.

Currently, he’s in the middle of a conversation with Hyuna when Kaylee excuses herself to ‘help’ you in the kitchen. He does his best to focus on the conversation at hand, but he can’t help but overhear what Kaylee says to you in the kitchen.

“Your neighbour is kinda cute,” he nearly rolls his eyes at her words.

He hears you chuckle, “woah, slow down there tiger, you just met him.”

“Do you mean to tell me you have your sights set on him?” She quirks a brow, her words peaking his interest further, sitting with bated breath to hear your response.

“Oh no,” you laugh, flicking off the stovetop. “He’s all yours. Just don’t make it awkward like the last time.”

He has to keep his expression from falling as he continues his conversation with Hyuna. You’re not interested in him? At all? Has he done something to turn you away from him? Do you not find him attractive? Has he no effect on you, at all?

Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices Kaylee coming out of the kitchen with a smug grin on her face, and he nearly scowls. If she thinks she’s getting anywhere with him, she’s wrong. You are all that he wants, and the longer he goes without you, the more he craves you.

You end up sitting across from him at the dinner table, and he does his best to brush off all of Kaylee’s advances. He nearly jolts when he feels her brush her foot against his leg, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his lips from curling in disgust.

In the back of his mind, he wonders why he’s not taking this opportunity to use Kaylee to make you jealous. Normally, he’d have no trouble doing so, but something tells him that that wouldn’t work in his favour, and that you’re not the jealous type. He lets out a small breath, one that isn’t noticeable to you or your friends. Hopefully, he can just get through this night, and focus solely on you.

Despite Kaylee’s failed attempts at flirting serving as a distraction, Jongdae still can’t help but feel like the night is over all too soon. He wishes he could just spend some more time with you, alone, and without any distractions.

Figuring he shouldn’t overstay his welcome, he leaves before either of your friends, telling you that he has an appointment in the early hours of the morning tomorrow. 

Thanking you for the meal, he bids you a goodnight. However, what he doesn’t expect is for you to pull him into your embrace.

He stands there for a good few seconds before his mind registers he should hug you back. He takes this opportunity to breathe in your scent deeply, and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from the euphoric feeling that travels down his spine.

All too soon, you pull away, sending him one final smile as his body almost robotically walks him out your front door and into his own apartment.

His head is still reeling from what has just occurred. His vision blurs at the edges as he finds himself falling face first onto his bed in a daze. The tips of his fingers feel as if they’re buzzing with electricity, his whole body on fire from when he held you in his embrace, but most of all, he can’t get your scent out of his mind. Another shiver runs down his spine as he recalls the way you felt in his arms, your scent filling his senses once more. 

He’s never felt anything like this before, nor experienced anything similar. He knows now, that he can’t let you go so easily. He won’t give up until you’re his, and only his. No one else is deserving of you, especially not after what he’s just experienced with you.

Flipping over onto his back, he stares at his ceiling. He needs to find a way into your life, as something more than just your neighbour. He’s decided that his end goal now isn’t just to have you, but to make you his, in every meaning of the way. 

Over the next few weeks, he does his best to get closer to you in any way he can. From what he can gage, it’s working, and he could not be happier. Kaylee has finally taken the hint that he’s not interested in her, and has since stopped flirting with him whenever she sees him. Yet another reason he can’t help but be filled with joy, for he takes this as a step in a positive direction towards having you to himself.

Despite his advances, he still hasn’t made any major progress with you, still not being able to tell if you like him or not. He even attempts to enter your subconscious almost every night, but you still are reluctant to let him in, so he backs off. 

Each night that passes makes him more desperate for you, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin beneath his touch once more. He wants nothing more than to hear you call out his name in ecstasy, into the darkest hours of the night, fulfilling your deepest fantasies that only he can fulfill. 

One thing that he finds himself doing more often than not is sitting against the wall that separates your apartment from his, just to feel your presence more clearly. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, and he concentrates enough, he can listen in on the conversations you have when one of your friends are over.

Tonight is no exception, hearing you talking with Hyuna through your walls after settling his back against his own in order to hear you better. He can feel his heart thumping against his chest as he hears your voice, your laugh, in response to something she’s told you. He hopes to be the cause of your laugh soon, to see you smile for him, and know that your smile will be only for him.

“So, how’s Hyojong?” You ask, causing Jongdae’s brow to quirk slightly in curiosity.

“He’s great! He took me to the night market the other day and it was so sweet,” Hyuna replies, and the way her eyes begin to twinkle makes your heart warm for her, a smile caressing your lips. “What about you? Any new potential romantic partners in your life?”

The wiggling of her eyebrows suggestively causes you to let out a small giggle, “girl, my love life has been as dry as the Sahara lately.”

“What about your neighbour? He seemed interested in you when he was over for dinner that one time,” she says, and you shrug one of your shoulders, and he can’t help but quirk a brow at her words.

“He’s cute,” Jongdae can’t help but smile at your confession, “but I’m not sure.”

He frowns.

“How come?” Hyuna asks, her brow furrowing slightly as she looks at you.

“I don’t know, it’s just this feeling I get,” comes your reply. “Besides, he’s probably not interested in me.”

“Have more confidence in yourself, anyone would be lucky as fuck to have you!” She says, hitting the side of your arm lightly.

“Tell that to my ex,” you roll your eyes playfully, only causing Jongdae’s brow to furrow even more in discontent.

“Well, just because he couldn’t handle your boldness, in more than one way, doesn’t mean he’s right,” she chimes in.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you grin. “Some men just don’t like a strong willed woman in the bedroom that knows what she wants. Also not my fault he didn’t know what a clitoris is.”

At that, you both laugh, making Jongdae smirk. So your last thing didn’t know how to please you in bed? Not a problem at all for him. He’ll do whatever he can to please you, in any way he can. From the sounds of it, you prefer the more submissive type in the bedroom, a fact which sets his whole body tingling. He hasn’t been with someone dominant in a while, and he can feel a shiver of anticipation run down his spine at the thought of you being the one to break that dry-spell.

“Why don’t you give him a chance if he asks you out?” She quirks a brow in your direction once you’ve both calmed down.

“Maybe I should,” you hum, setting his heart racing in his chest, hope budding in his mind of a future with you. “That is, if he asks me out.”

“Just keep your mind open to the idea, and you’ll be surprised at what can happen,” she winks, standing up from your bed and stretching slightly. “Anyways, I should probably get going before it gets too late.”

“Alright,” you nod, standing up as well and walking with her to the front door of your apartment.

After bidding her a goodnight, you decide to get ready for bed, seeing as it is late, and a sudden wave of tiredness has hit you. Your mind keeps replaying your conversation with Hyuna, deciding that you will pursue whatever happens between you and Jongdae, should something arise. You do really like him, and besides, he’s really sweet.

Meanwhile, Jongdae lays on his couch, eyes closed with a large smile on his face. He has a chance with you, and that’s all he could ever wish for. Tonight, he’s going to attempt to enter your subconscious once more, and if he can’t, he vows to himself that he won’t try again until the two of you are actually in a relationship. A fact of which he knows he won’t ever stop until you are bound to him in mind, body, and soul. He’ll have you, even if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

Relaxing himself further into the couch, he does his best to calm himself down, and not get his hopes up too much just in case you block him out for another night. However, he can’t help but to feel giddy, given the new information he’s just learned tonight. Whatever fantasies you have, he’ll fulfill them all.

The next hour that passes as he waits for you to fall asleep feels like an eternity. He wants to make sure that you really are asleep before he attempts anything, but he cannot help but feel giddy, as if every second that passes is time spent that he could be sharing with you.

Finally, he decides it’s time to see if you’ll let him in.

Focussing his energy, he keeps his eyes closed, allowing for his being to gravitate towards your subconscious. Each moment that brings him closer to you sends a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins.

He finds it interesting, entering each person’s subconscious. Sometimes it’s a door, other times it’s a window. Basically, whatever the person’s consciousness deems necessary as an entranceway, that’s what it becomes.

Yours, however, is one of the most beautiful marble archways he’s ever seen, almost as if taunting him with your beauty, even subconsciously. Each time he’s attempted to pass under it, an invisible force has stopped him, meaning your subconscious is closed to him. This time, though, he approaches carefully, almost as if the archway is a wild dear which can be spooked quite easily, and he doesn’t want to risk it running away.

Taking slow, almost hesitant steps, he brings himself closer and closer to your subconscious. Carefully lifting his hand, he tests the waters, seeing if there’s still some sort of invisible barricade up preventing him from passing through. When he feels none, he presses on.

A smile tugs at his lips as he’s able to pass through the archway without struggle, knowing that this will be a night he won’t soon ever forget. He knows that now, things have changed, and he’ll make sure to make you his, no matter the cost.

All is silent for a few moments as he waits for your subconscious to overtake him. He allows for you to take full control, letting you create the scenario that will take place rather than him creating it like usual. His vision fades.

Needless to say he’s quite surprised to find himself bound to your bed once his eyes regain focus, feeling something soft around his wrists which are tied to the posts above his head. Shifting his gaze, a smirk pulls at his lips as he sees the red fabric binding his hands to your headboard.

Hearing the door creak, he looks over to see you walk into the room, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt as far as he can see. He nearly groans at the sight.

“Oh? What this?” You quirk a brow, smirk tugging at your lips. “What a pleasant surprise.”

He watches your form walk over to him, coming to trail a finger down his chest which he’s just noticed is bare. A shiver runs down his spine at your touch, only serving to make your smirk deepen.

“Is this all for me?” Your voice is teasing, making him groan.

“All for you,” he nearly whines, “only you.”

His words hold so much truth within them, but you won’t know. At least, not yet.

He sees you smile in response, your hand halting its movements in order to splay itself across his chest. His skin feels as if it’s on fire wherever you touch him, only serving to make him crave your touch even more, wanting to feel every part of you pressed against him.

“Please, let me touch you,” he begs, eyes conveying the desperation he feels at finally getting to have this moment, only for him to be tied down and unable to feel your skin beneath his own fingertips.

“Patience, baby,” you say, crawling on top of him on the bed. “All in due time.”

With those words, you begin to trail kisses across his chest, trailing your lips up his neck and nipping at the skin of his jawline, eliciting small moans from his throat. Biting down on a particular spot draws a low groan from his lips, him having to close his eyes briefly to avoid you seeing the darkness that swirls deep within his irises.

You take your time, trailing your hands over the expanse of his chest before shifting your body downwards, and allowing your hands to trail up his thighs. He watches you carefully, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes as he feels you hook your fingers in the briefs he’s wearing, pulling them down his legs before tossing them somewhere in the room. He feels his cock twitch as he watches you lick your lips, nails biting into the skin of his thighs.

His breath hitches in his throat as he feels your hand wrap around the base of his cock, throwing his head back as he feels you begin to move your hand along his shaft, watching his every expression carefully. A small fuck escapes his lips once he feels your mouth gently encase the tip of his cock, sucking lightly as your one hand continue to work over the rest.

Ever so slowly, you take him into your mouth, and he can feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. Never, in all his fantasies, could he have ever imagined how good this would feel, and knowing that it’s you just makes it even more intense.

You take your time with him, bobbing your head a few times before pulling off of him and running your tongue up his shaft. He can’t help the moans that slip past his lips at the feeling of your mouth caressing him so gently, for it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His breathing deepens as you continue to build him up like this, pulling away each time before he can reach his climax, of which frustrates him to no end. However, he’s also somewhat grateful for this, for he wants to be able to feel you coming around him as he comes with you for the first time.

By the time you pull away for the third time, he’s a panting mess. His hair sticks to his forehead as his chest heaves with every breath he takes. Though, he wouldn’t have it any other way, for it’s you that’s doing this to him, and not anyone else. He just can’t wait for the day when he can repay the favour.

“Please,” he manages to get out, causing you to look up at him in interest.

“What is it, baby boy?” You quirk a brow, sitting up on your knees as you look over his state of being, smirk pulling at your lips.

“Please let me touch you,” he whines, tugging once more at his restraints in an attempt to reach out to you, though without much luck. “Let me taste you."

“You’re so cute when you beg,” you giggle, and he swears its one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard. “Alright then, baby, since you’ve been so good.”

Crawling up his body, you position yourself just above his head. It’s at this point that he realizes that you’re not wearing anything beneath that shirt of yours, and he nearly growls out his approval. He can see the way your folds glisten with your juices, only serving to make his mouth water in anticipation for what is soon to come.

As soon as you lower yourself to him, his mouth is on you, licking and sucking at your entrance to gather every single drop you have to offer him. He makes sure to focus his attention on your clit, using his tongue to flick at it as you arch your back above him, fingers tangling in his hair as you begin to grind down onto his face.

He swears he’s never seen a sight more beautiful than you above him like this, using him for your own pleasure. He can’t help but let his eyes bleed black as he watches you move above him, your chest rising and falling as whimpers of his name slip past your lips; a symphony to his ears.

He can feel you getting closer and closer to the edge, so he makes sure to give you everything he’s got, wanting to see you fall apart for him. Sucking your clit into his mouth, he then soon begins to thrust his tongue rhythmically into you, allowing you to control the pace as you continue to grind yourself down on his tongue.

Just before he can feel you reach your peak and drink in the beautiful nectar that is your orgasm, you’re pulling away from him. 

He lets out a whine in disapproval, pout on his lips as he watches your panting figure hovering above him. 

He licks his lips, collecting the lingering taste of your essence onto his tongue. You’re one of the sweetest things he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting, and since it’s you, he can never get enough.

“Fuck, you really know how to use that tongue of yours, don’t you?” You says, breathlessly.

He can only grin widely at you in response, heart soaring at your praise as he watches you adjust yourself so you’re now straddling his waist before aligning your entrance with the tip of his cock.

A low moan escapes his throat as he feels you ever so slowly sink yourself down onto him, enveloping his cock within your warm walls. His head tilts back and he finds himself having to close his eyes once again in order to not alert you to their change in colour.

His arms strain against the fabric of the silk, wanting nothing more that to break free and grip your hips as you begin to move above him, circling your hips as you squeeze him, as if he’s made for you. He’s starting to think that he is, or at least, that you were made for each other. Everything about you is perfect to him, and he couldn’t ask for anyone better.

You start to pick up your pace, moving above him and snapping your hips into his. He loves the feeling of your chest pressed against his as you begin to bite and nip at the sides of his neck once more. All he wants to do is kiss you, break free from his restraints, wrap his arms around you, flip you over, and give you everything you deserve, and so much more. For now, he’s content letting you live out your own fantasy. There’s always next time.

He can tell you’re getting closer to the edge with every movement of your hips, for the breathy moans of his name you let out right beside his ear are one of the greatest things he’s ever heard. He can feel your tight walls beginning to rhythmically clench around him, and he knows he’s not too far behind.

After a few more thrusts, he feels you coming around him, your essence flowing into him as you let out a high pitched moan. It’s the final push he needs to throw himself over the edge, thighs clenching as he releases deep inside you, a low groan of your name slipping past his own lips.

The two of you stay like this for a few minutes, him just basking in the aftereffects of your orgasm. This whole experience has exceeded any possible expectations he could have had, his heart hammering away in his chest as he now feels connected to you in a way he’s never felt before.

Unfortunately, all too soon, he’s ripped away from you and thrown back into his own consciousness laying back down on his couch in his living room. 

Opening his eyes, he allows a blissful smile to overtake his features, feeling the early morning sun shining on his skin. He’s never felt this full after a feeding before, in more than one way.

He knows one thing for sure now, though. You complete him.

Getting up from the couch, he decides to get ready for the day. After a quick shower, he throws on a fresh pair of clothes and decides to go for a morning walk since he’s in such a good mood.

On the way out of the door, he happens to catch you in the hallway. The smile never leaves his face as he watches you take notice of him, but quickly avert your gaze, shyly, in the next moment. He can tell you’re feeling slightly embarrassed seeing him now after the dream you has last night with him. He can’t help but find it cute.

“Good morning,” he says, seeing you finally lift your gaze to meet his own.

“Morning,” you smile back, and he swears he can feel those butterflies in his stomach that people always talk about.

“How are you today?” He decides striking up a casual conversation with you on the way to the elevators can’t be a bad thing.

“I’m alright,” you reply. “You?”

“Never better,” his smile widens as he watches you shyly avoid his gaze once more.

The two of you step onto the elevator in silence, and he notices you looking over at him out of the corner of your eyes. His heart can’t help but swell at the thought, pride filling his chest, knowing that you like what you see.

All too soon, the elevator dings on the ground floor, and you’re stepping out into the lobby. He freezes for a moment, somewhat caught in a daze as he catches your scent in the air once more.

Snapping back to his senses, he manages to catch up to you just before you can exit the building.

“Wait!” He calls out, watching as you turn around to face him.

“Yes?” Your brow quirks.

“I was wondering if you maybe wanted to have dinner with me sometime?” He asks, hope shining in his eyes as he stares at you.

“I would love to,” comes your reply, and he feels as if all is finally right in the world.

He sees you smile before turning and exiting the building like you had originally intended. He watches your figure move down the street until you disappear around a corner, eyes flashing black briefly in content. 

He’s on the right path of making you his once and for all, and if this is what love feels like, he can’t believe he’s been missing out on it for all these years. However, if there’s anyone he wants to be experiencing these feelings with for the first time, he’s glad that it’s you.

[dxmedstudent]

Things I miss under lockdown:

Work just...not having this constant layer of 'could this be coronavirus'. Yes, it could be. But sonetimes non-coronavirus exists too.

Not having to worry about social distancing at work. It bothers me less in shops or restaurants, but NHS hospitals and the way we work were really not set up for it.

Having most 'bad news conversations' face to face. Somehow it feels better when you can hold someone's hand or offer them a tissue.

The geberal hubbub of the hospital. I used to love this peaceful night shift kind of feel. But it's so different to what a hospital is usually like.

I miss our regular services. I miss being able to tell patients how long til they can have an outpatient investigation or appointment. I miss the system working at its full capacity.

I miss the certainty of our posts. Now every job means you might get re-routed onto a covid ward or your leave might be cancelled, or your rota mainly be changed. I'm applying for jobs next year but I am really not sure what they will be like. As nobody knows what we will be facing after August.

I miss not worrying about who will catch coronavirus and if I'll lose friends or colleagues. Not worrying how it'll affect my parents if they get it. Not worrying about how my home country and relatives will fare. Trying not to think of which patients it might affect.

Outside of work, I miss...

That feeling when you get a day off and you can just go and do something. Anything. Explore your town. Grab a coffee. Sure, your loved ones are busy, but there's so much you can do. Just that feeling of promise and discovery... is gone when there's barely anything you can do apart from sit in the garden alone.

Feeling like you choose alone time. Don't get me wrong, I love some alone time. But it feels sweeter when you choose it, rather than when all your time becomes alone time because you're banned from human interaction.

The weather has been so good, but what you could do with it was so limited.

The cats. I worry sometimes that they'll forget who I am because they haven't seen me in months. They are happy and safe and have lots of love with my parents. But I feel sad that they can't understand why I just never came back.

Hugs. Just being able to be near people you care about. Just being able to make each other feel better.

Being able to see my friends. Sure, we mesaage but catchups are much more lively and intimate face to face. Even though restrictions are relaxed, we live a little too far apart for meeting up to be practical just yet, but maybe its something to look forward to.

The friends who are stranded abroad who were hoping to come visit. I don't know when I will see them again. I hope they stay safe.

All the fun events that were planned for this year. Weddings. Celebrations. Housewarming parties. Just casual meetups. We all had so many hopes for the year. So many things to celebrate. Now people aren't sure when they will be able to get everyone together.

Lots of my friends haven't even met my BF nor have I met some of my friends new partners. Doing that over zoom would feel awkward somehow. I miss all the little get togethers we would have had.

Living with someone I care about. I've lived with friends, but for the past few years my flatmates have not made that jump into friendship, and you really feel that under lockdown. They've been perfectly nice and great for chats, but it's not the same.

I spent most of lockdown with s barely functional kitchen and using soneone else's washing machine cos my kitchen was being redone. That was fun! Not.

I realised that being able to regularly visit family, see my BF and friends is a big part of what made living apart sustainable for me. It's not a huge distance - easy enough to visit every weekend or on days off, when you're not under lockdown. But it feels like a distance right now. It's made me evaluate how far apart I'm happy to live in the future. Which is funny cos half the time when I'm there I'm not even doing anything other than chilling watching TV or playing games.

A lot of my stuff is at my parents'. Now they are allowed to drop things off in a socially distanced manner that's less of a problem, but it still means that I won't have access to a lot of my stuff for a long time. I tend to live in small flats where I don't get a lot of space to put things, so realistically I can't keep much stuff with me. I'm used to being able to choose what to bring and leave whenever I visit, but this has made me even more desperately want my own place. Space is important; and those with space have a privilege they don't realise.

I miss my family. We talk regularly, but not being able to visit is weird. It's easier to bear because I know it's for their protection, but it's still so weird. My mum joked that the next time I'd be able to come home I'd be married with kids. That's depressingly not entirely implausible given the state of things. I don't know when it will be safe for me as a healthcare worker, to be with them.

I miss my Guy. Even though we talk every day and even though we often have fun virtual activities together alone or with his friends. I miss being able to cuddle up together, and feeling safe in someone's arms. I miss the parts of human intimacy that can't carry over an internet connection. I miss being able to see someone, and know they are OK and they are right there in front of you.

It makes it harder when you have no idea when the rules might be relaxed to allow partners to see each other. Right now it's being treated exactly the same as my right to stand less than 2m away from a stranger in a shop. I.e. completely unimportant and probably the last restriction that will be eased. Why should they care? It doesn't make them money.

I miss going out. Museums. Coffee shops. Game cafes. Cinemas. Restaurants. Pubs. Just so many fun things that used to be an option but now aren't.

The worst part of a pandemic apart from all the death and economic calamity is facing it all alone, without being able to have so much as a hug. We're not alone, but we're also banned from all the kinds of contact we've built our society and human behaviour around.

I miss not worrying if people will be ok. If they will get sick. If they will be ok financially. So many people are going to go through a really tough time even after infections ease off. And you can't even be there physically for people.

[yikesorps]

💘 + collin & lyla

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

They met while he and Avery were still in the dating phase. While they weren’t the best of friends, they kept in touch. I’ve always assumed that their career paths are what brought them together. I also think that the fact that he kind of always. had a crush on her ‘cause, well, we know how he is. 

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved?

I think that it started even while he was still with Avery, but Lyla was never really aware of it. But as for when they really started to talk, it didn’t take that long for the two to soften up at the idea of each other. After all, he wasn’t used to someone being nice to him and she was under the impression that he was just cute and sweet. How’s that working out for you, LYLA? 

who fell for who first ( if applicable? )

They fell at the same pace but I think Collin was the one that felt the need to really profess his love first. He was in such a hurry to prove that he was over his ex and so he sort of rushed the two of them into a relationship. It’s so weird because their idea of flirting is so widely different. 

where their first date was and what it was like?

Their first date was surprisingly very cute. They went to a record store and they each picked an album for one another based entirely on the look of the cover. Then they laid on her flower and he asked her if she wanted to be his girlfriend. As horrible as a human as he is, that moment really sealed the deal for me when it comes to these two. I am absolutely weak for them. 

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

Collin asked Lyla out first. He did it, as I said, while they were laying on the floor and at their most pure. My favorite part is that it was right after he swore up and down that he was not interested in getting a girlfriend.

who proposes first

I don’t think that they’re going to get married. Collin never wanted to get married the first time, and especially now that he’s been so damaged over his first marriage I don’t think that either of them would ever propose. I think that’s a conversation that they’re going to need to have, and I don’t think that she’s going to like it.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Their relationship was never a secret, not even for a second. He made it very clear to everyone as quickly as he could. Well, he made it clear to Avery. Ahaha. 

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Again, there won’t be a proposal. He is emotionally stunted. Lyla, I am so sorry.

if they adopt any pets together

Collin is notorious for not liking pets, and so I don’t see either of them getting one together. One day he’ll accept her cat, but that’s about as far as these two are going to get. 

who’s more dominant?

It is, and I say this with total sincerity, so obvious that the answer to this is Collin that I snorted as I typed this. Lyla does not have a dominant bone in her body. 

where their first kiss was and what it was like?

Their sweet first kiss happened on their first date. It was very sweet, and I would go as far as to call it one of the most wholesome things I’ve ever written. He started off very sweet with her because deep down he knows just how important Lyla is for him to keep around because she is so incredibly good for him.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

I can see Lyla getting them matching things, and he would go along with it just because he wants to make her happy. In particular, I think she’d get them mugs. Can you imagine the look on Avery’s face if she knew that they matched? I can’t.

how into pda they are?

They don’t go out too often but PDA isn’t really their style. I think that because their ideas of what is acceptable as far as PDA goes are so separate that it doesn’t work in their favor because he is far more touchy-feely than she is, meanwhile Lyla just wants to hold hands.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

Collin holds the umbrella for her because this is another instance of the height difference making it a necessity. 

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

They definitely frequent the record store that they went to together, as well as small coffee shops, plant shopping. Their dates revolve around things that Lyla likes, for sure. Deep down Collin is such a softie for her, and he constantly does want to make her happy. I think that guilt is also a big factor in it.

who’s more protective

Collin is definitely more protective over Lyla, but once again, I think that guilt plays a heavy hand in that. He knows what he is capable of, and he hates the idea of sharing her. But I think that Lyla is more protective of his feelings because she knows just how sensitive he is, deep down. 

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

It took quite a while before they had sex because that isn’t necessarily Lyla’s style. However, they shared a bed early on. They had their fair share of cuddling sessions and just trying to be close to each other whenever they could.

if they argue about anything

They argue pretty frequently but in such a lowkey fashion. I’ve noticed that they have pretty different outlooks on a lot of things. They argue mostly about the things Collin does, much like the other people in his life.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Neither of them and that isn’t from lack of trying on Collin’s end. I get the vibe that Lyla isn’t as into being marked up as Collin would like. But he definitely tries to get creative with where he leaves marks on her anyway. She just isn’t into his weird shit.

who steals whose clothes and how often

Lyla steals his shirts on occasion but I think it widely depends on the last time his laundry was done. Spoiler alert: she usually knows when that is because she helps him with it.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

They’re either spooning or Lyla is laying directly on him. There aren’t too many inbetweens but they’re usually just cuddling no matter how it happens. That’s one of the things that they do happen to agree on.

what their favourite nonsexual activity ?

Listening to records together, talking, watching movies, cooking ( or rather Lyla cooking ) the issue with their nonsexual activities is that Collin always tries to make them so.

how long they stay mad at each other

It doesn’t usually last long because Collin truly doesn’t like to see her upset. We must protect Lyla at all costs, and therefore whenever he says something idiotic he tries to turn it around quickly. 

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

We already know Collin likes his gross Dunkin’ shit. I see Lyla as a mostly tea person, but when she does get coffee I am working under the assumption that she likes it a little on the sweeter side. 

if they ever have any children together

It’s hard to say just because he already is a father but it isn’t something that I would rule out for them. I think the possibility is there, especially considering that one of the only things that Collin is good at is being a dad.

if they have any special pet names for each other

How come none of our ships have cute pet names? I would love an answer to that. They are all so basic in this category. 

if they ever split up and / or get back together?

I have a feeling that they’re going to split up very soon. However, they. will get back together because of the reasons we’ve already discussed. He does love his ex, but he also does love Lyla. It’ll take a lot of work though.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

They have wildly different decorating styles so their shared space would have such an odd array of decor. Lyla would not let him make it messy, however, so it would be clean but she would get all of the credit for it.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

They’ll be spending it apart just because he’s going to be with Willow. After all, Avery made it very clear that she is not allowed to tag along.

what their names are in each other’s phones

Collin is very basic, and it would just be Lyla’s name without any flare to it. I can see Lyla being a lot cuter about it and having it be ‘Col’ with some cutesy emojis. 

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They don’t have any set in stone traditions but that isn’t to say that they aren’t creatures of habit. I’m sure that once they get past their issues, or rather his issues, they will manage to form some traditions of their own though. 

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first?

Lyla for both. Collin’s sleeping habits are absolute garbage. Whether it’s because he’s gaming, staying up all night drinking, or even just out with his ex-wife. Regardless, he isn’t ever an early riser unless he’s on tour.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon?

Collin is the frequent big spoon but sometimes they switch it up. However, he likes to feel protective over Lyla. 

who hogs the bathroom?

Neither of them. Lyla may take a little longer, but I don’t see her being too high maintenance. Honestly? Collin probably takes longer than she doe. Hot fucking take.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside?

Lyla is another example of someone who I do not think would be keen on killing spiders. I think she makes Collin take them outside.

[kouei116]

Diabolik lovers Lunatic Parade: Kanato Sakamaki

Earl Walter stole Yui's heart and replaced it with Kleinod. Yui and Kanato went to the earl's castle to ask for it back, but he wasn't there. They were advised to try find the butler to ask where his master was. Kanato wanted to get some rest first so they headed to a hotel. Due to the parade, the hotel was fully booked, Kanato demanded to see the manager - who recognized Kanato was Karlheinz's son and ordered staff to prepare the best room for him. While they filled in the accommodation card, the receptionist asked if Y was his friend, and Kanato replied: “She is my wife" (♡´艸`)

K: Hey Y, do you hate becoming a vampire that much?

Kanato told Y if Kleinod broke, it'd still be fine because he'd turn her into a vampire and they could be together forever. Y couldn't make a decision abt becoming vampires yet, Kanato got upset that she didn't understand his feelings and ran out of the hotel room. Y ran around town shouting his name looking for him. Seeing her desperately trying to find him, eventually Kanato came out in front of her. She must be tired from all the running so he suggested going to eat. While eating, Y suddenly fainted. Kanato brought her back to the hotel, he apologized it was his fault causing Y to run around earlier, he was very worried that if she remained human and someday she will die, he'd really hate it, he wanted her to stay with him forever. Y told him again that she wanted to find her heart first before making a decision. Kanato respected her decision and agreed to help get her heart back. 

K: If you don't use cunning/dishonest means, you won't get the things you truly want.

They went to Reine de Aji general good store (Aji the lady owner here is the younger sister of Saba - the shop owner in Vandead Carnival game) to ask abt the butler. Aji asked them to get her the forbidden apple pie before answering. This forbidden apple pie was extremely popular and too many people queuing to buy, Y said this couldn't be helped and was drinking smoothie talking to Kanato in this CG. He wanted to use his dad’s power to get the pie but Y wanted to find other ways. 

A boy bumped into Y, spilling smoothie all over her clothes. Kanato was angry demanding the boy to apologize to Yui properly and the boy started crying. Y told the boy she didn't mind, it's alright. The boy apologized to both of them and ran away, then came back with his Dad - who was the forbidden apple pie shop owner. The Dad said Y forgave his son with a smile, she was a kind vampire (Y noticed that he mistook her as a vampire) so he wanted to gift Y a forbidden apple pie. Kanato accepted it but Y wanted to return the pie bc she didn't treat the boy kindly to receive rewards. Kanato got mad (bc he wanted the pie to exchange for the butler's info) and ran off. Y tried to follow him, she bumped into the boy and he said his Dad was testing Y, it was actually a poisoned apple pie; if Y was a genuinely kind person, she'd return the pie.

Kanato arrived at the shop, giving the pie to Aji, but now she said she didn't remember any promises with Kanato?! She was happily having the first bite when Y rushed in and warned her abt the poison. Aji was skeptical but Yui's face didn't look like lying. Aji thanked Y, said from the start she didn't plan to tell Kanato the butler's whereabouts, but for Y, she'd help. The butler liked medicine herbs so when the Earl was away, very likely the butler would be at the Smaragd volcano to gather them.

Kanato told Y he found it strange why the Earl still put the Kleinod inside her after stealing her heart, and he felt like everybody they met in town today were testing them. He worried abt Y's health and suggested returning to the hotel to rest. Y slept and had a dream abt a mysterious man telling her: he granted her wish, since he took the heart away, she didn't get into any troubles with the vampires; the Kleinod can work forever, the Sakamaki lied to her abt it being temporary because they want to suck her special blood. Y woke up to a worried Kanato but she lied that she didn't remember this nightmare well enough to tell him. She trusted Kanato but she got anxious if he would still love her without the special heart. 

Y and Kanato went on a gondola to get to Tirkiss waterfall near the volcano. The scenery was very pretty, Kanato said in town they couldn't enjoy the parade so they should take a break now, they know the butler is here, no need to worry. A fortune-teller lady invited them to try her shop that was famous for accurate love fortune. She gave Y a cup of tea to drink up then looked at the remaining tea leaves to predict that Y was having doubts abt Kanato. Y denied this but suddenly her body felt hot, her consciousness started fading and she fell into the water. Kanato jumped straight into the water to save her but the water was strong, she realized if going on like this, he’d drown...

K: ... Quiet! Only I can decide your fate. Don't die without my permission, I won't forgive you!

Y got drifted away and couldn't see Kanato anymore. She woke up in a cave with Kanato collapsed nearby. She was very happy he was still alive. She apolozied and told him the truth abt the dream. He said he only knew those kleinod to work temporarily, and:

K: Besides ... Even if the heart disappears, I will always love you. It's more important to me that you are alive than being able to suck your blood. I thought even if I don't say it in words, you already understood ... but seems like I was wrong. I ... love you *kiss*

Suddenly lots of bats appeared <Minigame Whack a Bat>

K (patting her head): It's a reward for your working hard (fighting the bats in the minigame). I’m praising you. 

After beating the bats, it wasn't likely that the butler was here so they should return to the hotel. Y sneezed, Kanato asked if she was cold, checked her forehead and sensed a bit fever, told her to give him her hand bc it'd be troublesome if Y collapsed (aweee) Y saw somebody collapsed and ran over to check even when Kanato didn't want them to get involved. This man woke up and explained he was picking up a rare moss growing inside a cave that has poisonous gas even to vampire. He bowed his head to thanks Y and Kanato for saving him. They noticed he had a red granite stone on his forehead and they realized he was the butler! Y explained her situation, the butler could only give them the card written by the Earl hinting the location: On the full moon night, when it raises the crown at the very high peak, I'll return. (sorwy, I don't understand what this means TwT)

Y thought the Earl could be either at the tower or the mountain. Unexpectedly she overheard the girls nearby talking about the Zatan's mouth at Diamante fountain: if you put your hand inside the mouth, it will tell you the truth, but no one have tried yet because it's said that a disaster may occur to you e.g. splitting up with your lover. Kanato was very cool put his hand right in and got the answer: The Earl will appear at Onyx tower. Y asked if he wasn't scared of losing her, but he said: “If that happens, I will take you back. It's not likely that you belong to anyone else but me...”

They came to the tower and Earl Walter was there. He said he’d return Y's heart with a condition that she vowed to part from Kanato forever. She replied that he was wrong, he didn't take her most important thing. There's no way she'd exchange the 2nd most important thing (her heart) for the most important thing (Kanato). Kanato was very happy to hear her feelings. Suddenly the tower started to crumble and they got thrown outside, Kanato managed to catch her and said: 

K: Y! Don't leave my side. Hold on more tightly. Please don't let go no matter what. I will definitely protect you, now and ...in the future. You can stop worrying, it'll definitely be alright. I love you... I love you.

When Y woke up, she and Kanato were in the Earl's castle. He said he did want her heart but he realized that Y and Kanato were worthy of keeping such a treasure hence he returned it. Kanato demanded him to show his face but he refused. He hoped they would enjoy the festival and he needed to leave for his next target to steal.

Y had fun at the parade because Kanato was at her side. The forbidden apple pie shop owner gave them an apple pie (not poisoned one this time yay) and Kanato fed Y from his fork

Y: ... It’s extremely delicious! Just like you said Kanato!

K: That's good. You can eat the rest.

Y: Eh, is it ok for you Kanato? Does it not suit your taste?

K: No, it's not that. Because, as expected, I like this better *kiss*... Fufu, thanks to you eating the apple pie, this feels sweeter than usual *Nnn....n...Nnn.....*. You're a special. Y, to me you're probably the forbidden fruit. I love you ... From now on, you're mine and mine alone, forever ....

Care for Vampire:

K: ... Thank you. Thanks to you, Y, I've felt much better. Let's sleep together like this. If you sleep with me, I will get well. (...) From today, you will be my personal pillow. ... Are you happy? ... Fufu, me too. Please let me hug you like this forever...

---

I really like Kanato's sub scenario with Carla. Kanato requested room service to hold a sweet party just for the two of them in the hotel's guest room aaaand Carla was eating their sweets there. Kanato was getting grumpy but Carla complimented Kanato's taste in choosing sweets - esp the religieuses that have high artistic value and sweeter than anything he has eaten, he’d ask Shin to get it for him - making Kanato smile again. Then Carla, Kanato, and Yui ate religieuses happily ever after hahaha. Just like my sis-in-law said, it's nice to see my old man and little boy getting along (人´∀`) The route is sweet, Kanato always worried abt Y’s health, he jumped straight into the water to save her, I squeaked for 15′ when he said Y is his wife haaa（˶′◡‵˶）It's just... I guess bc Yui's heart was missing, there wasn't any sucking blood scenes, only a few kissing scenes at the end, my ears starved playing this oughhh ;u;

[julianawrites]

nightmares

Tyler funnels every ounce of energy in his veins towards gazing across the tent at her.

He’d met her on one of those toxic moons, one of those deceitfully picturesque mirages where the dust glitters like lily petals but the air would kill her before her could think to appreciate it. She was a floater; a nomad with no place to call home, but she figured that she liked it that way. Homes were permanent. They set lives and futures in cobblestone and trapped spirits in gated properties, keeping just about anything and everything tethered under the farce of security. Homes make paraffin casings around dragonfly wings and turn footprints to concrete. So she never had one, and never wanted one. Tyler had found her amusing. She had found him to be better company than just herself. So with great reluctance, she established a partnership. Not one forged in steel or bronze but something still fleeting, its true meaning always escaping her lips like a forgotten thought. It’s too much work to try and think about it anyway.

She had let him invite her to reside in his tent. It took coaxing, requiring copious amounts of golden honey spilling from Tyler’s tongue to get her to tenaciously stick to him, but she was no match for his silver tongue. He did everything he could to assure that this wasn’t a habitat, but merely a shelter - a thing that could be taken down and built back up somewhere else, anywhere she wanted. So she obliged. He let her take the cot closest to the zipper door; she liked being closer to the exit, just a rotation away from being back on her feet. He tries to let her truly feel like if she wanted to escape, wanted to elope with liberty and run away from the loose bonds of the canopy, she could.

Three weeks of sleeping adjacent to him and her still doesn’t want to.

Tyler is used to temporary relationships. He had done his fair share of companion hopping, although he wasn’t really making an effort to do so. It scares him a little - why can’t he make anyone stay, make anything last? Partners passed him by, either to traverse on their lonesome or to stay with that greedy man in the sky for eternity. Teams disbanded around him like glass castles shattering in his wake. Tyler, whether he liked it or not, was accustomed to transience.

He is not, however, accustomed to fearing that sharp brevity. Tyler is constantly on his toes around her, frequently wondering if he’s pushing her away or pulling her closer. She isn’t skittish, doesn’t constantly question everything he says or get offended by the sound of his voice, but he’s still scared of losing her. Every time he looks into her eyes he sees wonder, a certain fascination with life that he tries so hard to match because he wants to find things as beautiful as she does. As beautiful as she is. He wants to mis-quote her favorite novels that she’s forced him to read so that she'll scold him so affectionately and tell him that perhaps he had garnered a little brain damage from his previous escapades. He wants to trip over tree roots that have herniated through the soil so she can laugh at him, maybe lay there on the grass with him for a little bit. Just a little bit. 

In her own mind, she is guarded. she tries her very best not to get too personal, too deep, too much. Because she doesn't like it when people can see her flushed, bloody insides. her just know that the moment her open her chest, someone will steal her heart right out of her rib cage and like the pass of a hummingbird, all of herr secrets will be free to float in the breeze like the ashes of her lost quintessence; it’ll all be gone and then he'll really be empty.  So how could she ever know what she means to Tyler?

He knows what a truly locked up person looks like. He’s spent hundreds of cycles with people that don’t make a noise. He’s sat in bustling pods of people and felt like the only man in the room, like solitary confinement for his mind. No, she’s not some warning-covered steel box, padlocked and duct-taped and glued shut so that even if he’s sitting right next to her, he’ll have nothing more than his own voice bounce off of her walls and fly right back to him. She’s a music box, a gold-trimmed heart-shaped sound bottle, and he learns that if he winds her up the right way, she'll sing so pretty for him.

He has spent so long talking, nonsensically making those arbitrary noises burst out of his throat until they lose all meaning, but finally, for the first time in so long, Tyler gets to listen.

He listens to her tell him her think his hair is stupid and that sometimes he smells bad. He listens to her lament about barren dig-sites and wasted time, about how it’s so hot in her suit. He listens to her fantasize about touching the trees, burying her face in her flowers and squeezing the moss in her hands. About drowning in the river so that her body is filled with the water and then rolling in the sand so that it all sticks to her and that she’ll have to dive back in to clean off. About feeling something.

Sometimes, Tyler just wants to hear something other than his own voice. And she’s the cold towel to his inflamed skin, refreshing and addictive. She’s much braver than she thinks, so much stronger than she gives herself credit for, because for once, Tyler can talk into the forest and know that there’s someone to listen besides the leaves. He doesn’t feel alone.

Every night, when the moon has turned its back on the narcissistic Sun and opened its arms to the thousands of other stars, each just a prick of light but understanding of their place in the tapestry of the darkness, the two of them retire to that tent. Both redressing into comfortable clothes, backs turned on each other under the guise of respect, and climb into their respective cots. Tyler would turn off that lantern that illuminated the enclosure, and her shadows would dissipate into the darkness.

Except Tyler’s shadows don’t disappear; they hide. They blend into the black and mold into one man-engulfing untamable beast to possess Tyler’s throat. And they manifest again in his mind. They poison that movie that plays once her slip consciousness, instills fear into his bone marrow until he doesn't feel safe in his own body, his own thoughts. 

These slumber illusions haunt Tyler. His right arm waves at him in his sleep, the souls to which he was the conduit bridging life and death haunt his diaphragm with toothy grins to mock him, screeching into his cavities. They remind him that he was never really alone because he has the suffocating embrace of those spirits that are sewn so tight to his eyelids. Every night he somehow manages to pull himself from the darkness only for his own demons to pull him back by the throat. He is always oscillating between consciousness and unconsciousness, being tossed around like a helpless rag with no hope of liberation. Nothing scares him more than his own thoughts.

And she knows. She knows all of it. How could she not? She was born a tumbleweed, wandering across desolation, so of course she's a light sleeper. And she can hear Tyler’s choked cries, his tossing and turning as he drains himself of any sense of safety. But this man is a stranger to her. He is just a person she resides with, talks to all the time, nudges gently and teases and smiles with. He is just the person whose attention she always craves. A stranger.

So every night she turns her body to face the zipper of the tent and pretends that she can’t hear him cry. Pretend that she doesn't sometimes cry with him. A pretty lavender lie that smells sweet, tastes sweeter.

She, in her cowardice, lets him destroy himself. Watch as the bags under his eyes get bigger and greyer and the strings holding his shoulders up lose their tension.

Tyler, in his flawed cratered embodiment, is only human. And he had gone so long without holding anyone, without being held. He knows what he wants, knows who he wants. But he also knows how jittery she is, how fluttery her heart is, and he doesn’t want to approach it too fast lest he startle her and she flies off into the stars. But he can’t keep doing this, can’t live with himself when he knows he’s not the one in control but those horned, slimy creatures that claw at his maxilla with their venomous grins.

The lights are out in the tent per usual, so Tyler can’t really see her. Reality is a concept with which he is no longer familiar.

Laying in her cot, she decides that she just can’t take it anymore. she can’t stand to let an intruder of her life break her down the way he does without even trying. How dare he look into her, how dare he listen to her without passing judgement, how dare he make her feel like a flower in bloom.

Tyler hears her breaths - they’re uneven. She hasn't gone to sleep. What is she waiting for?

“Tyler?” she practically squeaks into the void. His ears perk up immediately; her cotton candy voice is enticing to him, flossing its way through his veins.

“What are you doing up, birdie?” Tyler asks softly, the air of his lungs floating over his words. He doesn’t mean to keep her awake, but he isn’t mad about it either. It’s stimulating his nerves enough to keep himself awake, and that’s something he probably won’t ever be able to repay her for.

“I-um....”  She hadn’t expected to get this far. What would she say to him? How could she tell him that she wanted to grovel in his shards by his side and try to help him fit the pieces back together again? “I can’t sleep.”

Not a lie. Tyler knows she means it. He just doesn’t know why.

“Well that won’t suffice,” he decides, outstretching his left arm blindly off the edge of his cot until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for: that lantern. With a little more fumbling, a weak but good enough orange glow is emitted on the floor between the two of them. They both catch each other’s pitiful gaze. They want to take care of each other, want to shield each other from the red sprites that nip angrily at each other's hearts. Tyler holds his left arm out to her, tentatively. He’s never been more unsure in his life. He watches her glance at his arm, and then quickly to the side. She’s trying to decide if she’ll let him add another tether to her. If she’ll let him become something sewed so tight to her bleeding skin that to leave would rip her apart.

She takes his hand.

[salted-barbed-wire]

The Devil May Care

Chapter Eleven

Summary: The door is locked and the Demon's come You cannot but learn his song and sing-along Word Count: 1679

Prelude       Chapter One.      Chapter Two.      Chapter Three.       Chapter Four. Chapter Five.     Chapter Six.      Chapter Seven   Chapter Eight.   Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten

“I thought you said there was a lot to the incantation?” I looked over the words in Aleister’s family’s grimoire. There were only a few lines written, it seemed easy enough.

“How great is your Latin, Jackie?” Finn was sitting cross-legged in front of me.

“As good as anyone’s would be in the twenty-first century. I mean, besides Catholics and stuff.”

Finn rolled his eyes, “That’s what I thought. Now, it’s crucial you pronounce everything appropriately. Otherwise, you kill everyone in the room, including yourself… or worse.”

“There’s worse?”

The demon spun the book around to face him. “Aye, princess. We could all get trapped in hell together. Although, if we were to share a cell in the pit together, I might not mind it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Okay, let’s focus.” I stopped him before his dirty mind could continue to wander. I had no desire to get all hot and bothered like I was at work today. “Let’s just take it line by line. Halloween in in a week, I can learn a line a night and then practice the sigils while reciting.”

There was a moment where he looked impressed, but it vanished as he turned the book around to face me again. “Repeat. Hic vigor invocabo.”

“Ic vigger encada.”

Balor stared at me, “This may take longer than one night.”

“It was bad, huh?”

“It didn’t sound anything like what I said.” He sighed. “Word by word, then.”

We practiced that line forever it seemed. It was a lot of me forcing myself to watch Balor’s lips and tongue move as he shaped the dead language. I mimicked his announciation to the best of my abilities. At one point he grabbed my facing, gently elongating my jaw to form the ‘o’ sound we needed for ‘invocabo’. I caught him more than once with a glimmer in his eye as he watched my own mouth.

“Okay, now, like we practiced. Hic vigor invocabo.”

“Hic vigor invocabo.”

Finn smiled brightly, placing a hand on my knee. “Look at you go! You’re a natural.”

I scoffed. “A natural wouldn’t be sore from learning that.”

“Latin isn’t easy for this generation. But now that you know a lot of the basics for the first line, the second shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I hope not.” I sighed, before laying back against a small heap of pillows I had conjured earlier when creating the practice space. “I wonder if Aleister texted me back yet.”

“Oh?”

“I told him you had called and set a time for the second date. He had said earlier he wanted to discuss Halloween the night before our date.”

“Hmm.” Balor lounged next to me. “You’ll know the location and I can scope it out before we decide on our Halloween swaray.”

“What’s the plan for our ‘swaray’?” I asked.

Finn’s mouth twitched as his blue eyes met mine, “A masquerade ball.”

“Whoa! Are you serious?”

“Like the plague.”

“Oh god! I don’t have a dress or shoes or anything!”

“I’m sure your boyfriend will take care of everything for you like he did our first date.” Finn took a small pillow the size of a ball and began tossing it gently in the air.

“He’s not my boyfriend, you know.”

“No, but you two have a weird thing going on… not that I trust it.” He rolled over and looked at me, “Are you saying you’re a single pringle, princess?”

My eyes rolled and I tossed a pillow back at him. “Technically, yes. And just because you don’t trust him, doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“So when you betray him for me, do you think he’ll still reciprocate any feelings?”

I swallowed, “Hadn’t thought about it yet.” I shook my head. “What are you proposing I do then?”

“Well there is another eligible bachelor looking for a queen to his future throne that is very much interested in you.”

“Not going to happen.”

Balor pulled me close to him. “Princess, kings and gods have bowed to me, what makes you think you can refuse for long?”

My body was stiff in his arms. “I’m not really the bowing type.”

He leaned close to my ear. “It’ll make it that much sweeter when you do.” I could feel his breath on my ear. His voice rumbled against my skin in the most sensational way. “I would take very good care of you, my queen. You’d be worshiped and adored not only by our subjects, but by me as well. You’d forget about the devil you know. You’d have me at your every beckon call. You’d but merely have to speak the words, and I’d give you anything your heart desires.”

My pulse raced. “I thought you wanted me to bow to you?”

Balor placed gentle kisses along my neck. “It would only need to be once. Then I would bow to you for all eternity.” One hand was slow making its way down my back, past my hips and butt, gripping my thigh lightly. His other hand was entangled in my hair, keeping my head up to allow his caresses along the exposed flesh on my neck. “Your heart is pounding, Jaqueline. I can hear it. I can smell your desire.” His words came out as a low growl. “You want me to keep this up, don’t you?”

I gasped when his teeth grazed against my throat. “I- I don’t know what I want.”

“Yes, you do, princess. You want me. Aleister can’t summon these responses from you. I bet he wouldn’t even treat you like a queen. All he wants are servants. You’d be there to bow before him, you’d be his plaything. Whereas I would whisper your praises and adoration between your legs every night.”

Suddenly the world around us shook. “I need to go.” I sat up as quickly as I could manage to get some distance between us.

Balor sighed, “You can’t run forever, princess.”

“Promise me this,” I gestured between us, mostly to him, “doesn’t affect me learning that incantation. And it doesn’t become something we do every night?”

“I promise nothing.” He had a cocky smile plastered on his face. “I doubt you’ll be able to keep your hands off me now.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “Challenge accepted.”

With that I awoke to Felix sniffing my face. “God, is it morning already?”

“Mreow.”

I sighed and gave him a nice pet. “I feel like I just closed my eyes.”

“Something troubling you at night, snojepe?”

I turned and saw Aleister leaning against my door frame. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket and had the sleeves on his shirt rolled up. It was tight against his abdomen, showing a well-toned body underneath. My mouth felt dry.

“I can’t wait for this to be over, so you quit inviting yourself over to my apartment whenever you feel bored. What if I had been naked or what if Finn had been here?”

He arched his eyebrow. “I would’ve sensed if that low some demon was here. And if you were not dressed for company…“ his tongue darted out along his lower lip as his eyes wandered where I was lying in bed, “it would have been a fabulous start to my day.”

I threw my pillow in his direction, but it missed and hit the wall next to his head. Of course, he didn’t even flinch. “Are you always so violent in the mornings?”

“Only when the devil keeps snapping his way inside my apartment to wake me up.”

“Someone has to make you breakfast.”

I pushed the covers aside and headed towards my closet to find something for work. “You have got to get over the fact that I actually like pop-tarts. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with making me breakfast.”

“I made eggs benedict.”

Fuck.

“Alright, alright. I’ll eat. Let me shower and have some human time first.” I pulled an over-sized sweater down off a clothes hanger and grabbed a pair of leggings too. I pushed past him, making my way to the bathroom.

Aleister cocked an eyebrow, “’Human time’?”

I turned at the bathroom door. “Yes, I’m not like you who can snap myself clean like that.” I mocked his snap and shut the door behind me.

“You make it sound like I don’t actually shower.” His voice echoed from behind the door.

“Do you?”

“Let me in, I’ll show you.”

Panic fought to rise in my chest. “I think it would be best if I passed on that offer.” I pulled my shirt over my head and started the water.

“You’re right,” he mused. “You probably would end up late to work.”

I thought I was going to turn permantly red.

There was a beeping nose from the outside of the bathroom door. “I have a meeting I have to be to, snojepe. I’ll be by tonight to walk you to the location I need Balor to meet us at. We won’t have much time to prepare.” He was quite for a beat. I could almost hear the sound of his fingers tapping out a text message over the sound of the water heating up. “How’s your latin?”

My thoughts spun to Finn’s lessons. “It’s not too bad.”

“Oh? That’s surprising.”

“I just know a few phrases from when I went to church.” I shuffled out of my shorts, hoping he didn’t notice the lie.

Aleister didn’t say anything right away. I leaned against the door, listening for a sign that he was still there. Nothing came. Did he snap himself away and I didn’t hear?

“Sorry, I was lost in thought. As much as I’ve enjoyed this little chat on opposite sides of this door, I can’t stop picturing your naked body just out of reach and it’s not really allowing me to focus.”

My knees went weak at the thought of him coming in to help me shower.

“Another time perhaps. Food’s on the table, enjoy your shower, snojepe.”

There was a snap and I knew he was gone.

~~~

Chapter Twelve-> Coming Soon

Tag List: @fangirls-gotta-fangirl @xladyxfatex @xbreezymeadowsx @rndm-fngrl-blg @nicolewoo @itsicantbelievethis666

[justapencilandsomeblood]

The First Bite

So, as promised here’s the first of probably many RPs between me and @ichaisme I’m enjoying writing with her, and it’s probably the closest I’ll get to ever actually writing out this story, so I hope you all enjoy~

It was a peculiar store, walls and shelves full of oddities and the occult.  Joey Drew felt right at home among the dusty trinkets and books claiming to be full of magic. He was thankful Henry knew of his more out there hobbies, and allowed him to indulge. Today, a particular book caught the man's attention, one about vampires. He smirked and rolled his eyes at the ridiculous notion of such things existing, but humored himself with a read anyways. Joey was so engrossed in fact, he didn't notice the man watching him until he heard him clear his throat. "O-oh! My apologies, we're you interested in the book im reading or-" His brow furrowed as he was handed a small card, the strange man whispering. "If you're truly interested in that topic, come to this address tonight, it'll be a night you'll never forget." And with that, the man walked away, leaving Joey to stare at the card in his palm. --- Joey sighed as he looked up at the large, decrepit house in front of him. Oh, Drew, what are you getting yourself into... He just had to be curious. He just had to know. You know what they say about curiosity and cats. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to grab the knocker on the door and giving a good few hits.  Guess it's time to wait, I feel so dumb... what if this is all an elaborate prank?

******** The door slowly opened to reveal the presumable owner of the building. Tall and thin, one could wonder how he held together in his frailty, and yet he exuded a confidence that almost completely covered any concern. The dark red velvet suit jacket, perfectly tailored to him, lined with black and dotted in dark brass buttons, helped cut an impressive figure. Gaze going further up, the pale face practically shone in the dim light. His eyes, a rich brown so bright they almost seemed red, looked him up and down. His emotions danced across his face in a well-rehearsed dance: recognition, understanding, and finally, warm hospitality. “Ah,” he began smoothly, leaning a bit into his cane; the picture of nonchalance. “You must be the guest Alistair invited. My name is Benjamin. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He offered a black gloved hand to shake, tilting his head politely down. The position made it more obvious that his gelled hair pulled back into two distinct points. “Do come in. Dinner is about to be served~” ******** Oh. Oh dear. Joey felt his face heat up as he took in the other man's appearance. He was pretty sure he was a monogamous man, but this stranger was suddenly making him have doubts. He cleared his throat, reaching out to take the hand that was offered, "Drew, Joey Drew," he stumbled, stepping inside. He wasn't sure if he wanted this man to recognize his name or not. Sure, he was proud of his and Henry's work on the Boris cartoons, but what would such a regal gentleman think of him for making silly children's shows? Although, his thoughts were cut off at the idea of food, "Oh, dinner sounds just lovely! I'm starving." ******** “Joey Drew?” He raised a brow, closing the door behind the man after he stepped inside. “The same Joey Drew of Boris cartoon fame?” A man like that, interested in the occult? How interesting. It did… complicate things just a little. Alistair would need to be more discrete about disposal, and other logistics would need to me be hammered out, but… he wouldn’t be the highest-profile victim he’d ever had. “Incredible, being in the presence of such a talent.” The mention of food again brought his sharper smile back, bowing with a flourish and directing him towards the dining room. “Coincidentally, so am I. Shall we dine?” ******** His cheeks reddened more at the recognition, but he didn't respond, instead gladly following towards the dining room. Although, upon reaching their destination, Joey couldn't help but pause. There was a table, just as extravagant as the rest of the house, but it wasn't set in the least, in fact it had a layer of dust, cobwebs clinging to the centerpiece. No one had eaten here in a long time. "Uhhh..." he ran a finger through the dust, his back turned to the men, "I hate to come across as rude, but I am a tad confused on dinner, is it just not here yet?" Just go along with this, Drew, they're obviously pulling your leg. Perhaps two men that are a bit too into role play? ******** Benjamin had to take a moment to compose himself after that. Most who stepped into his dining room realized immediately something horrible was about to happen. They'd try to beg. They'd try to run. All met the same end. But this man... reckless in his interests and completely oblivious to danger, kept up the game. Such naiveté... it was endearing in a way, like a puppy that didn't quite understand that its tail was attached to its body. It was almost a shame to kill him. But, a meal was a meal. A red glow to his eyes signalled the shift. Like a snake advancing on an unaware prey, he slunk up behind him, one hand creeping up to grip Joey's shoulder, tight but not painful. "Perhaps you have been led astray, sir," he murmured into his ear, voice lowering in octave. Another step closer, and Joey stood trapped between the table and Ben's body, solid despite the thinness. "You are the meal~" He relished the sensation a moment, before the grip on Joey's shoulder tightened, and the vampire sank his fangs into his neck. ******** He really was oblivious, convinced he knew the situation. He was going to turn to face the two, expecting some form of 'we got you!!' Instead, Joey found that he couldn't move. Some invisible force kept his body firmly planted in front of the table, his back to the strangers. Fuck. Okay, just breathe Drew. No need to panic. Then the hand was on his shoulder- he was trapped. He couldn't move. He couldn- Oh fuck that hurt- Joey's breathing was uneven, the sounds of swallowing in his ear. He could feel the tug, his blood being forcefully taken. Fuck... this is real... ******** Ben contented himself with drinking at first, but the longer he drained, the more he wondered-- maybe he should let him live. There was some amusement to be had in that. If he intended to though, he had to decide quick. The oddly cute but naive human, or a full meal... With a barely muttered curse he pulled away. That was what he got for still mingling at all with humans. He punctured his own wrist with his fangs, holding Joey firmly upright and in place as he waited for the blood to flow. Such an odd distinction between the living and the (un)dead. He technically still had a heartbeat, slow as it may be. Blood somehow still flowed through his veins, yet... thicker. Darker. More potent. For a vampire to drink another's blood would mean to go insane. For a human... well, it would let him survive how much he'd lost so far. Once there was enough dripping down his arm for a taste, he shoved the bloodied limb into Joey's mouth. ******** Joey Drew was going to die. He'd finally done something stupid enough, and was facing the consequences. Everything was cold, the freezing chill starting in his fingertips, spreading up his arms the more was drank. He wasn't even aware anymore. Everything had gone black, Joey lost in his own mind. But then there was a spark. A small taste like electricity. He felt himself coming back as he licked at whatever was in his mouth. It was amazing. Words couldn't describe how it tasted, how it felt. He wanted more. He reached up, grabbing the limb as it tried to pull away, digging his teeth in. ******** Ben winced a bit. Apparently, the taste was very compelling. That could cause an issue. He shifted his hand up to grip Joey’s hair tightly, forcibly pulling his head away from his wrist, “If you go too far you’ll turn yourself,” he warned with a hiss. “That’s more than enough for you to survive.” ******** A small whine came from Joey's throat as he fought against Ben's hold. This wasn't how the man ever behaved, but that taste. It wouldn't get out of his head. How bad he wanted it. Needed it. He struggled again, trying to lunge for another bite. ******** "Really?" Ben raised a brow, scoffing a bit. "Fine. You can't drain me, and I warned you. Suffer the consequences." He released his grip on the man's hair. ******** As if Joey even comprehended that warning. The second he was let go, he jumped. Joey dug his teeth back into Ben's arm, opening the wound that had already begun healing. He let out a moan, getting lost in the taste as blood filled his mouth. He never wanted to stop. It was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted, filled him with a newfound energy. But soon- Soon Joey let go, pushing the limb away with a gag. It had turned rotten, burning his throat. He doubled over, gagging and coughing, his mind suddenly clear again. "W-what...?" Joey was trying to get his bearings, remembering where he was, remembering what had happened. It was only after a few minutes did Joey really consider what was going on. He looked up at Ben, his hand going to the dark bite mark on his neck, the wound already healed over. The more time passed, the more Joey noticed was off. There was a steady heartbeat, he tracked the sound, he could hear Alistair's heart. It was loud and clear despite the man being on the other side of the room. Joey panicked, falling backwards as he began hyperventalating. Ben was a demon. A monst- Joey had to protect himself. He dug into his pocket, intent on grabbing the small silver chain he kept there. With a hiss of pain, Joey instantly removed his hand, staring at the smoking skin, and now seeing the sharp black claws on his fingers. His crucifix had burned him. Tears were running down his face, whether from pain, fear, the crushing realization of what had happened... "What did you do?" ******** "Ruined a perfectly good meal," he sighed, glancing over the wound before tugging down his sleeve. "Now the turning you into a vampire part, that was mostly you. I intended to only give you enough to not kill you, but despite my warnings you continued to drink. So here you are." ******** "T-turning me...?" Joey felt his body go cold at those words, sure, it'd been obvious. But hearing the truth out loud like that slapped him in the face. His gaze fell from the other man- the other vampire- to instead stare at the floor. He wasn't human. Joey Drew was a monster. Damned. Cursed. The tears kept flowing, dripping down onto the floor as Joey sat in silence. ******** He sighed softly at the display. "Always a rough time for the newly turned. You will adjust," he said assuredly. "Tread lightly during this time. I'm happy to answer questions.." ******** Joey let out a defeated sigh, wiping his face and standing up. He felt numb. Dead. Because you are dead... "I..." his voice cracked as he tried to speak, his throat horribly dry, "do you have any water...?" ******** He shook his head, unable to keep slight amusement from his face. "Water will not quench your thirst. Not anymore." As he spoke, he slunk over to Alistair's side, placing a leading hand on his shoulder. "May I offer you as this fledgling's first taste, my love? You know I'll watch him very closely," he murmured, audible only to him as they stepped a bit closer to where Joey stood. ******** Alistair of course gave a diligent nod, he would do anything for Benjamin. Although, he did now have a light blush thanks to how soft the other was. Joey on the other hand, he was trembling, terrified once more of what he'd become. He didn't fully hear the conversation, but he could easily figure out what had been discussed. "N-no!" He took a step back, unfortunately bumping right into the table, "I can't...!" ******** "Of course you can. You live in an either or. Either you drink, or you die. Better have your first in a controlled environment, learn humanity's limits since I doubt you're willing to kill. Your other option is to go feral with hunger and likely hurt someone you care about. I suppose that's your choice." He wasn't about to coddle Joey, though he did feel he should insist at least once before letting him go. No one could accuse him of not trying then. ******** Go feral... and hurt someone...? Joey frowned, hating that the other vampire was right. This was his life now. He needed- Joey didn't want to think about that. Just drink some and move on with life. Ignore that you're a bloodthirsty monster. He nodded, turning to Alistair. The man gave a small smile, tucking his long black hair behind his ear and exposing his neck. With a nervous glance at the human's face, he leaned in and bit down. ******** True to his whispered promise, he stayed close by the entire time Joey fed, half possessive, half out of concern. First time biters had a tendency to go too far. And if he dared even try to take a drop more of what he should from Alis, he was going to separate them. ******** Alistair winced, it wasn't at all gentle and warm like when Ben fed from him on occasion. Of course it wouldn't be, Ben was experienced, this was Joey's first time. He glanced over at Benjamin, his brows furrowing in concern as he started feeling weak. How much was he going to take? Joey didn't want to admit it, but it did taste good. It came natural as well. Each swallow calming the dry scratch in his throat. Filling him with a wonderful full feeling he knew he'd crave forev- He let go with a hiss when he felt a small tug, only moving about an inch away from the bite to bare his fangs at whoever was daring to take his meal. "Mine." ******** The second Alistair glanced at him, he reached to pull Joey lightly away. Oh, but that hiss. That claim. He bristled with barely contained rage, throwing him back with superhuman strength.  "NO. MINE. Control yourself, or I will do that for you," he growled, hugging Alistair possessively to him. ******** When Joey hit, something had cracked from the impact. Him or the wall, he couldn't tell let alone care at this moment. His meal was being taken. He got up, ready to fight. ******** Ben scowled and held Alis a little tighter. “Fine. I warned you.” He glared, letting his rage funnel into his order, “RELAX. Take a seat while you’re at it. Calm down.” ******** Joey felt his whole body suddenly untense. He slumped back against the wall he'd hit, sliding down to the floor to sit. He stared at the other two, confused and a bit shaken at his body moving on his own. ******** “You’re wondering what just happened,” Ben commented, watching him. “We are... bonded, in a way. My blood turned you. If I order you to do something, anything at all, your body will obey without question, even if your mind objects. I don’t intend to abuse that power, but until you can control your urges, I will use it disciplinarily. For example, when you get too consumed by the taste of blood.” He scoffed a bit, then realized he was still hugging his partner to him. A bit of composure lost, he quickly separated, but couldn’t help but linger slightly with his hand on his cheek. “How are you feeling?” ******** Alistair smiled at the hand on his cheek, Ben was always such a comfort. He glanced over at Joey, the fledgling sitting with his head hung in silence, then looked back up at Ben, "I'll be alright, Sir, just a bit dizzy." He reached up to his neck, feeling the sticky mess that remained with a grimace. ******** His gaze traveled down to the blood on his neck. “Let me take care of that. And Joey, pay attention,” he ordered carefully. “This is arguably the most important part of the process, if you don’t want to kill someone. You need to seal the puncture wounds. If you don’t, they can bleed out.” With affection and tenderness, he brought his mouth to Alistair’s neck, cleaning the mess Joey left behind with his tongue, willing assurance and warmth into every action. He put particular attention to the puncture wounds themselves, allowing enough time for it to fully close. ******** Alistair couldn't help the shiver that went down his spine, nor his cheeks heating up. He loved getting attention like this from Ben. The taller man being so gentle and caring, considering what Alistair has seen him do to men, it reminded him just how precious he was to the vampire. Joey let out a small sigh of frustration as he watched, he was still under Benjamin's control, unable to speak or move. ******** He smiled a bit as he felt him shiver, lingering a bit longer close to him before finally pulling away. "There we go. Joey, you are free now. Blood loss is serious." ******** Joey remained silent, but stood. He didn't want to acknowledge what had happened. He didn't want to accept what he was. But... after a few more stretches of silence he spoke, "I," he took a deep breath, "I don't think I can do this on my own." He wanted to just leave. Leave and be done with this night. Yet he knew he'd need to feed again. ******** Ben nodded a bit, "Come to us. We can guide you through the process, and you will not have to kill anyone," he offered. ******** "T-thank you," he mumbled in response, I won't have to kill anyone. It'll be fine. Joey moved towards the door, trying to ignore the freezing numbness in his chest at the fear of just what he'd gotten himself into.

[dragonfics]

Just Fine

(Smut vent fic)

Summary: “Sex is meant to be pleasurable—for both parties.” It's meant to be. But too often, as Rus quickly learns, it isn't.

Tags: Smut, lemons, bad sex, painful sex, penetrative sex, oral sex, lack of reciprocation, knotting, mention of vomiting, alcohol, loss of virginity, vaginal bleeding, eventual good sex, healthy spicyhoney

Ships: Spicyhoney, US Papyrus/Strangers

Word Count: ~7.4k

Notes: A vent fic regarding how different sex can be for those with vaginas when compared to those with dicks, and how vaginal pleasure is often secondary. This is a bit personal, and I definitely don’t claim to speak for everyone here. I know my experiences aren’t universal. Just something I wanted to write about.

Read on AO3

OR

Below the cut

When Rus had pictured his first time, it had never been quite like this. It had been roses and soft kisses and the familiar warmth of a lover’s embrace. Not the cold, unwashed sheets of a stranger’s bed, after sneaking away from a party, tipsy out of his mind. The man’s mouth tasted strangely sweet, like the cherry and lime ale he’d shared with Rus. He was human too—another inconsistency with Rus’s fantasy, if not a significant one.

And, more to the point, it hurt. Not a lot, but enough that Rus was grateful when the human finally grunted and pulled out of him, flopping onto the mattress and shutting his eyes. Slowly, Rus sat up. “um... thanks,” he muttered, sliding off the bed. The human cracked an eye.

“Yeah, sure thing, babe. You get yours?”

“get my what?”

“I mean—did you finish?”

Rus blinked, then opened his mouth, realising what he meant. “oh—uh yeah. yeah. it was… good.” Was that how really how he’d describe it?

The man yawned and sat up, stretching. “Cool. Glad to hear it.” He watched Rus as he pulled his jeans back on, then winced. “Shit, you alright?” Rus looked down and his breath caught. Mingled with the cum on his thighs was a trace of red. Was he bleeding…?

“uh... shit. yeah—no, i’m okay.” He swallowed, wiping away the residue with his finger. It was warm and sticky.

The human zipped his jeans back up and dug in his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. “Didn’t realise it was your first time,” he said, flicking his lighter. “Would’ve gone gentler if you’d told me.”

“yeah... sorry, i should’ve mentioned it.” Rus tugged on his sleeve, fidgeting with the doorknob. He felt like he’d done something wrong.

The human exhaled a trail of smoke. “First time is meant to hurt though, right?”

Rus shrugged, twisting the doorknob. “yeah, i guess.” The man dusted ash onto the carpet and held out the box of cigarettes.

“Smoke?”

“uh, i’m good,” Rus said, though the smell made his throat itch needily. “think i’m just gonna go clean up.”

“Alright, take care,” the man said, waving him off. “And hey—” Rus turned, and the man winked. “Walk of shame. Enjoy it.” Rus couldn’t tell whether that was meant to be a joke or not, so he forced a smile and left quickly.

He pushed through the throng of sweaty bodies, avoiding curious stares and wandering hands until he found the bathroom. There was a human bent over the toilet bowl, retching while her friend held her hair back. The two of them paid Rus little heed beyond a momentary stare. He wet some paper towel in the sink and quietly unzipped his jeans, dabbing at the mess around his pelvis. The blood clung stubbornly to his bones and he gave up, tossing the wet towels in the trash.

The bathroom door burst open and he jumped, startled, before realising who it was. “oh, hey ‘dyne…”

“Rus!” Undyne shrieked—too loud. She hugged him, beaming, and if that wasn’t evidence enough of her intoxication, the tequila on her breath certainly was. “Where did you get off to? Alph and I were…” She blushed and looked down, nudging her glasses up her nose.

“well, i was just…” He glanced over his shoulder at the two humans, then leaned in. “i was actually with someone,” he said quietly. Undyne’s eyes went wide and she clapped her hands over her mouth.

“No way! Did you—?” Rus nodded sheepishly and Undyne squealed. “I can’t believe it! That’s crazy. How was it? You were just dancing one second and then the next I couldn’t find you—because you were—!”

“yeah,” Rus said, smiling faintly. “uh, it was… fine. it kind of hurt honestly.”

“Oh, but that’s just because it was your first time. It’ll feel better next time. Oh man, I can’t believe it!” She squeezed his arm. “You little slut, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me where you were going.” The gesture was in good spirit, but Rus’s throat felt tight.

“yeah, whoops.” He turned the tap on again and splashed cold water over his face, his sockets burning with tears. A few feet away, the human girl threw up again.

  Cuddling was nice… ish. A little awkward, in truth. Rus couldn’t really move the way he wanted to, and his shoulder was cramping, and being a flame elemental, his partner gave off just a bit too much heat. Rus squirmed in his hold, and he chuckled, kissing his skull. “Getting restless, sweetheart?” he murmured, squeezing Rus’s inner femur.

He’d met the guy at a party and the conversation had been pleasant enough to warrant the exchange of numbers. They’d texted a bit, things had gotten heated (so to speak), and here they were, watching Netflix. It was a little cliché. Personally, Rus would have done away with the preamble and skipped straight to the sex, but this was… fine. Just fine.

He tucked himself closer to the elemental, trying to get comfortable. The elemental’s flames crackled. His mouth trailed from the crown of Rus’s skull down to his jaw, and whatever strange horror movie they’d been watching was all at once forgotten.

His tongue was hot against Rus’s neck, not unpleasantly so, but the sensation was unfamiliar. He kissed Rus deeply, licking into his mouth. “You know,” he whispered, planting a line of kisses down Rus’s face, “I’ve been thinking about your pretty mouth all night. Kind of been wondering what it looks like wrapped around my cock.” He pulled back to give Rus a sly grin, then purred, nuzzling into his neck.

“yeah? okay, i’ll see what i can do about that,” Rus said with a smile, cupping him through his sweatpants. Shit, he was hard already. Had he been hard through the entire movie, waiting for Rus to make a move? Rus cleared his throat. “i should probably warn you, i’m uh… not all that experienced at this.”

The elemental chuckled throatily, his flames crackling. “I find that hard to believe.” He pinched Rus’s chin, tilting his face. “After all those dirty things you said to me last night… I’m inclined to believe your mouth is just as dirty.” He nipped at Rus’s jaw, and Rus laughed, hoping it sounded genuine.

“right…” He shifted in his lap and tugged down his sweatpants. The elemental watched keenly as he ran his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the bead of precum.

“Yeah, that’s it baby, c’mon. Let me see you put it in your mouth.” Crouching between his knees, Rus tentatively licked a circle around the head. It burned his tongue a little, but was otherwise bearable. “Oh yeah, that’s it. I think you can take it deep, babe. Show me what you can do.” Rus wasn’t confident. Even with a pseudo-throat, his gag reflex was overly-responsive.

But he was eager to please his partner. Or maybe just to prove himself. Whatever it was, it was enough for an attempt at deepthroating. He swallowed just a little, and got about half way before his throat began to itch. He choked and the elemental groaned, flattening his hand on the back of Rus’s skull and pushing down. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby. Let me just—” He grunted, bucking his hips, and his cock hit the back of Rus’s throat. “Oh, yes! Fuck.” He moaned loudly, mindless, apparently, of Rus’s discomfort.

It lasted a good ten minutes. Maybe twenty. Long enough to make Rus’s jaw ache and his throat burn. “Gah, no teeth, babe,” the elemental griped as reflex drove Rus to grimace. “Almost there.” Thank fuck, Rus thought, and he might have voiced it were his mouth not being used as a cocksleeve. The elemental held his head down and fucked his mouth, and with a rather unimpressive groan, buried himself all the way inside Rus’s throat and came. His hot release spilled into Rus’s throat, and contrary to his desires, he was forced to swallow it.

The air had never tasted sweeter. He buried a cough in his sleeve when the elemental let go of him at last. “Shit. Dude. That was amazing,” he breathed, slumping against the arm of the sofa. Rus was untangling himself from the blankets but the elemental pulled him back down and kissed him deeply, humming into his mouth. “Mm, we should definitely do that again. I was right about that dirty mouth, wasn’t I?”

Rus put the barest ounce of energy into the kiss before wriggling free. “ha, sure,” he said weakly, grimacing at the insincerity of his words. He scurried to the kitchen and drank straight from the tap, rinsing out his mouth and swallowing half a gallon of ice-cold water. His throat still felt singed.

When he returned to the living room, the elemental was dozing on the couch, while the TV flickered blue across the room. Sighing, Rus switched off the TV and left to take a shower. If he was lucky, maybe he could rub one out and pretend the sex (or lack thereof) hadn’t been dismally frustrating.

  Finding partners online proved to be a thousand times easier than flirting at bars, and Rus wished he’d tried it out sooner. He spoke to a hundred odd men a day, but only a miniscule percentage of them ever saw his bed. And not for lack of effort on his part. But most of them seemed to fall into one of two categories—the over-eager pervert, or the ghost. Rus wasn’t particularly inclined to either. The odd few that fell outside of those categories usually went home with him.

They were fine.

Tonight, they ended up on the sofa. After a tedious non-debate over what movie they were going to (not) watch, Rus ended up in his partner’s lap. He was human, which made his lap somewhat comfy, though his hands were… disappointingly immobile. He held Rus around the waist, and from there—well, nothing. The movie slogged on for a good half hour before Rus realised he was likely expected to make the first move. A bit awkward from his position, but his patience was dwindling.

He twisted in the human’s arms, giving him a soft, but suggestive smile. “enjoying the movie?” he asked, tongue dancing across his teeth—just for a moment, he still enjoyed a degree of subtlety.

The human shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Rus held in a frustrated sigh. “just fine?” He smiled and touched the tip of his tongue to the human’s neck, tasting sweat. “anything i can do to make it more than just fine?” The human stirred, shifting his hips beneath Rus.

“Yeah? Like what?” Rus grinned cheekily and the human lifted him onto his back, tugging his pants off.

Underwhelming was the only word that could really describe it. It was over before Rus had even started, and the human didn’t breathe a word before getting up wandering down the hall to the bathroom. Rus couldn’t even say he was frustrated, just… bored.

  Undyne set Rus up with a guy she knew from work. “He’s really nice, I swear!” she told him excitedly. “Real gentleman. And he has a great sense of humour. You’ll love him.” She wasn’t completely wrong. He was friendly, he laughed at Rus’s jokes, and he kept the conversation going well enough to stifle most awkward silences.

He took Rus to a drive-in movie on their first date, and insisted on driving him personally. More as a means of showcasing his ride than out of courtesy, Rus soon came to realise. “Just got her,” he’d said, patting the bonnet of the sleek car. “Wanted to take her out for a spin. What do you think?” Rus wasn’t an expert on cars, but he knew enough to be able to tell a good car from a bad one. This one was good (probably expensive), and had a spacious backseat.

Which may have been why they found themselves there halfway through the movie, mouths locked together while they undressed each other. “God, you’re gorgeous,” the other monster breathed as he unbuttoned Rus’s shirt. “Beautiful. Let me see you.” His words were kind, almost reverent, and in spite of himself, they made Rus blush. Soft paws scrambling over his body, and soon the monster had two fingers inside him. From his appearance, Rus had to guess he had some wolf in him (and so did he, his mind supplied). His fingers were long and his coordination was… awkward. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but he wasn’t hitting the right spots either.

“How’s that, baby?” he breathed feverishly, pushing his face into the nape of Rus’s neck. “Good?” Rus hummed a non-response and the wolf pressed himself closer. “Lie down, I wanna taste ya.” He crawled between Rus’s knees and lifted his legs over his shoulders. The warm swipe of his tongue over Rus’s clit made his breath catch.

“oh…”

“Mm, ya like that?” He pressed his tongue inside Rus, and Rus clutched to the fur on the back of his neck. It was… pretty good, honestly. More than fine, a nice change. But…

“Alright, sweetheart, let me see you on your knees.” It stopped all too soon. The wolf grinned, kissing him, his tongue probing. “Can you taste yourself? You taste real good, baby.” Rus hummed against his mouth in (false) affirmation, then sat back while the wolf unbuckled his jeans. And...

Oh. He was. He was big. There was no sugar-coating it. Rus studied his cock and swallowed, and the wolf’s yellow eyes glinted. “Yeah? You like it, sweetheart? Ready to taste my nice thick cock?” Rus’s smile was so heartily feigned, it couldn’t have fooled anyone. Well. Except for this guy, apparently. He grinned and kissed Rus before leaning back. “That’s it, babe, let me see that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick.”

Rus slipped into the small space between the front and back seat that passed for a floor. It was cramped, but it was the only position that gave him a good angle. He licked the wolf’s cock tentatively, swirling his tongue around the head. “Fuck…” he breathed, stroking the back of Rus’s skull. “That’s it, babe, keep goin’. All the way.”

Rus managed to get about half way before his gag reflex caught up with him. He coughed and pulled off, wiping his mouth. “Fuck, good boy,” the wolf breathed, rubbing Rus’s arm. “You’re such a good boy, that felt real good. I know you can keep going.” Rus took him in again, this time at an easier pace. “Oh, that’s it.” He bobbed his head, moving down in increments. “Fuck, lemme see how deep you can go. Let me see you take that big dick—far as you can go, baby, oh, oh, fuck yeah.”

Rus made admirable progress, holding just long enough for the wolf to thrust and catch him in the back of the throat. He swallowed a gag, pulling off quickly, and the wolf exhaled. “Come up, come up here, sweetheart.” He beckoned lazily and Rus sat back up on the seat, letting the wolf guide him into a sloppy kiss. “You want it inside you now?” he purred against Rus’s neck. “Wanna feel that nice big dick inside your pretty cunt?”

Rus nodded with lacklustre enthusiasm. “mhm,” he hummed, his inflection just off. The wolf grinned, kissing him as he lowered him onto his back and lined himself up. It took just the tip inside him for Rus to realise it wasn’t going to fit. “ah!” He winced, digging his fingers into the wolf’s back as he sank in. “ah, fuck!”

The wolf grinned, lapping at his neck. “That good, baby? You like that? Yeah, you like that big dick, don’t ya? Fuck you’re tight. You feel so good, sweetheart, so good.” He pushed deeper and a cry slipped from Rus—fuck it hurt, it hurt so much. He shut his eyes and held on, panting. “Oh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Love hearing you scream like that. Fuck, it’s hot.” With no further grace, he pounded into Rus, and then Rus really did scream. The wolf gave a howl of pleasure, dragging Rus flush against his body as he fucked him.

It lasted longer than Rus was used to—and usually, he’d be thankful for that. Longer sex increased his odds of getting off. Only this time, it did nothing but extend his pain. His cunt felt like it was being split open, each thrust jolting his entire body. “Oh, sweetheart,” the wolf moaned, slowing to a gentle roll of his hips. “Let’s turn you over, I wanna take you from behind.” Limbs shaking, Rus got onto all fours. The wolf wrapped an arm around his torso and slowly pushed into him.

The angle was no better. If anything, it was deeper—too deep, each thrust jarring. Grateful the wolf couldn’t see his face, Rus shut his eyes, wincing against tears.

He knew it was over when the wolf buried himself deep and held himself there, exhaling against Rus’s neck. Hot ropes of cum coated his inner walls, and—wait, was that…? “are you… knotting me?” Rus asked, not bothering to hide the discomfort in his voice. Somehow, his tone still seemed to pass the wolf’s notice.

“Ah, shit… yeah, sorry. Should’ve warned you about that.” He stroked Rus’s spine as he filled him, the stream of cum unceasing.

“um, yeah maybe?” Rus grimaced, pressing his face into his folded arms. “shit…”

“Can be a bit intense, or so I’m told.” He laughed hoarsely and pressed his body close. “But nice, huh?” Well, the stretch was overwhelming, but it did beat being pounded into the car seat. Fractionally.

The wolf’s cock softened eventually, but the damage was done. Rus was tender and sore, and his inner thighs were slick with cum… and blood. He inhaled sharply and quickly pulled up his jeans to hide it.

When Rus got out of bed the next morning, his pelvis ached. Sitting down hurt, and walking was… awkward. He caught a glimpse of his neck in the bathroom mirror and winced internally. Bruises flushed the bone a purple-grey colour, and the wolf’s teeth had left some pretty telling marks. He picked out a black turtleneck, and spent most of the day on his feet.

Around noon, he received a text from an unsaved number.

Wanted to get in contact with you again so ‘Dyne gave me your number! Just wanted to emphasise how amazing last night was for me. Would love to do it again sometime. - Dom

  Against all odds, Rus did end up seeing him again. Really, Dominic was a nice guy. A little cocky, and a little rough, but nice. Fine. The second time they met, Rus sheepishly managed to stutter out that last time was maybe a little too rough and that maybe, if possible, he’d like to perhaps go just a little bit slower this time. Maybe.

“Well, shit, why didn’t ya tell me to stop if I was hurting you?” Dominic asked him, and that stumped Rus a little.

“i know i should’ve. i—i’m sorry. i… i don’t know.” His chest clenched with guilt. He’d messed up miserably. A part of him wondered how Dominic hadn’t noticed. Surely there’d been no mistaking his cries of pain for pleasure? Surely he’d noticed the awkward way Rus had been sitting while they saw the movie through afterward? Surely he’d seen the blood on his pelvis?

Dominic shrugged, lying down next to him. “S’all good. We’ll try and go slower this time, yeah?”

A seed of warmth grew in Rus’s chest, and he smiled. “thanks, dominic.”

He patted Rus’s shoulder. “Hey—remember, call me Dom.”

It was better. Not great, but better. Fine. Dominic gave him a little more room to control the pace, but he quickly found himself on his back again. “Fuck, you know how hard it is to hold myself back,” Dominic growled against his skull as he rolled into him. “Feels so good being inside you, baby, I just wanna go balls deep.” Rus closed his eyes, shuddering. In many ways, the dirty talk was appealing. It was nice to know his partner was into it. Nice to know he was doing something right. But on the other hand… it didn’t exactly hit the right spots.

“You know what was really good last time?” Dominic murmured, licking along Rus’s jawline. “Seeing my dick in your mouth. You liked that, didn’t you? Having a nice big cock in your mouth?”

God, I get it! Your dick is big! Rus wanted to scream, but instead he smiled, nodding. “yeah,” he said weakly.

“Yeah?” Dominic caressed his face with the back of his hand, tender despite his words. Rus nodded with forced eagerness and Dominic grinned, kissing him briefly before rolling off him.

Sucking him off was no less onerous than it had been last time. Rus still couldn’t take him all the way in, though Dominic seemed inclined to get him to try. At length, he patted the back of Rus’s skull. “Alright, come up, I wanna try something else.” Relieved, Rus sat up, and Dominic caught his hips, dragging him upward. “Lemme eat you out while you suck my dick,” he said. “Wanna taste that sweet cunt again.”

“o-okay,” Rus stammered, a little confounded. This was unfamiliar territory. He’d never tried this position before. He lay with his hips over Dominic’s face while his skull fell in line with his cock. The angle was strange, but the reciprocation was appreciated. Dominic pressed his tongue deep inside Rus and he moaned around his cock. Fuck. This was something he could get used to, even if it meant a throatful of dick.

“Shit, that’s it,” Dominic breathed against his cunt. “Keep goin’, baby, I’m getting so close.” He licked a strip down Rus’s inner folds then let his hips drop, ceasing his own performance. Rus lifted his head but Dominic stroked the back of his neck, easing him back down. “Keep goin’, sweetheart, keep goin’, nearly there, fuck…”

You are, but I’m not, Rus thought resentfully. He bobbed his head until Dominic gripped the back of his neck and thrust upward, releasing a stream of cum into his mouth. Rus coughed and it dribbled down his chin and onto the bedsheets. “Aw, sweetheart, fuck… that was hot.” Dominic chuckled, rubbing Rus’s coccyx. “You look good from this angle.”

Rus’s laugh sounded strained, even to him. He climbed off Dominic and sank into the mattress. His cunt still throbbed needily, unsatisfied. He ran a finger lightly over his clit, then looked up at Dominic. “hey, uh, you don’t mind if i… get myself off, do you?” he asked apprehensively.

Dominic eyed him, lifting an eyebrow. “Ha, multiple orgasm kinda guy?”

Multiple—?! Rus laughed feebly. “heh, guess so, yeah.” He turned on his side, resting his chin against Dominic’s bicep as he touched himself. His own careful hands were a staggering contrast to Dominic’s more forceful manner. He moaned softly, burying his face in Dominic’s shoulder and inhaling deeply.

“Fuck… listen to ya. Love seeing you make yourself feel good, babe.” Dominic closed his hand over Rus’s, attempting to guide his movements. “Need an extra hand?” He pressed a thick finger inside Rus and Rus tensed against the intrusion. Fuck, he was so close, could this idiot not—?!

He breathed and kept going, trying not to let it deter him. Dominic was oblivious, but there was something to be said for his eagerness to please. It was heartier praise than Rus could offer his past lovers.

In the end, though, it fell just short of enough. Frustratingly, his climax refused to come, and he settled for a fake one, lest they be here all night. He moaned and squeezed Dominic’s shoulder, then relaxed. At this point, Dominic had two fingers inside him, and was pumping them hard beyond the point of pleasure. He slipped them out of Rus and lifted them to Rus’s mouth. “Come on, baby, taste yourself.” Rus obediently sucked on his fingers and Dominic’s eyes fell half-lidded. “Fuck, that’s good, isn’t it? You feel good?”

Not even close! Am I not even allowed to come on my own terms?! Can I not have a moment to myself where you’re not trying to prove to me how fantastic you are in bed? Can I just enjoy myself instead of sitting subject to your showcase of your own damn ineptitude?

Caving, Rus smiled. “yeah, that was nice.”

Dominic smiled and corralled him tightly, kissing his forehead. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that.” He chuckled quietly to himself, as if sharing a private joke. “You’re probably going to think I’m just saying this to get you into bed again—and maybe I kind of am, just a tad—but… man, I love spending time with you. Feels good having you close by.” He squeezed Rus to his chest. “Mind if I spend the night?”

“of course not.” Because how could he say no after such a heartfelt confession? Rus’s insides were squirming. He wanted a shower… and to sleep alone. But, he made do. This was fine.

  His relationship with Dominic endured beyond its expiry date. It wasn’t all bad. Sometimes it was nice to be able to lie next to someone and know they cared for you a little more than people usually did. Other times, Rus just wanted to scream at him to shut up about the size of his damn dick! In the end, he was left with a few fond memories, and a few bitter ones. He tried to focus on the fond ones, for the most part.

Months rolled into years, and Rus kept his distance from anything that resembled romance. Casual sex remained a pass time, but none of it particularly noteworthy. Undyne had a fondness of bars. Not that Rus minded much, but it did mean he spent a significant amount of time in the line of fire of flirty guys. It wasn’t all bad, really. In some ways, he enjoyed the attention.

But man. Some nights he just needed a break. Was sitting alone wearing sweatpants and a pulled-up hoodie not enough of a deterrent? Did he really look like he was here to get laid?! Apparently yes, if the four men who approached him over the course of the evening were any indication to the fact.

“You need to relax,” Undyne said, swaying past him in time to the jukebox music, drink in hand. “I mean, sure they’re a little over-eager, but…” She glanced around then leaned in. “Don’t tell me all that attention isn’t kind of flattering.” Rus didn’t miss the note of resentment in her voice.

He hummed, swirling his virgin martini around the glass. “guess i’m just not really in the mood tonight. sorry, didn’t mean to kill your buzz or anything.”

Undyne patted his shoulder. “Nah, you’re good. I mean, I should be thanking you for volunteering to drive…. Thanks.” She grinned, and Rus smiled up at her.

“it’s okay. wasn’t really planning on drinking anyway.”

She crouched, gripping his shoulder to keep her balance, then giving it a gentle squeeze as if the move had been deliberate. “Why don’t you come dance with me? They’re playing really good music tonight!”

Rus eyed the small stage, where monsters and humans clamoured and swayed out of time to the music. “uh, that’s okay. think i’ll just sit here.” He nodded at the dancefloor. “that bun looks like she’s making eyes at you, though. why don’t you go and say hello?” Undyne glanced over her shoulder, her cheeks flushing. “go on,” Rus said, grinning.

“I, uh—okay, um…” She turned to look at Rus, her eyes frantic. “Do I—do I look okay?” She made an attempt at flattening her hair and he laughed.

“you look great! now go, before she finds another fish in the sea.” Undyne gave him a disapproving glare before she hurried across the room and into the gathered crowd. Rus watched her disappear, then returned to disinterestedly nursing his drink. He’d barely taken a sip, but having a drink in his hand gave him the ‘i already have a drink’ escape line if anyone offered to buy him one.

The night wore on, and the bar began to empty. Rus barely left his seat, apart from a couple of bathroom breaks, which were more an excuse to get himself out of conversations with handsy men. Being a Tuesday night, the place closed at one, and by midnight, it was nearly empty…

And naturally, there was no sign of Undyne. Grudgingly getting up from his coveted chair, Rus searched the place and came up empty-handed. More an inconvenience than a reason to be alarmed—Undyne had a tendency to wander into stranger’s beds without telling Rus where she was going. He returned to his seat, figuring he may as well wait until closing to see if she turned up.

“Lost someone?”

Rus glanced up as the bartender rolled his sleeves up and wiped down his table with a cloth. “no... well, yes. but she’ll turn up.” He chewed his tongue, eyeing the bartender up and down. He was a skeleton monster too, but his features were hardened by scars and his bones were thicker and rougher than Rus’s. Horns curled from his skull, and his crimson eye-lights flicked over Rus as he cleaned.

“We’re closing in fifteen minutes. You have a ride home?”

“yeah, i haven’t been drinking, i’ll be fine.”

The bartender lifted a brow bone. “Alright.” He moved on to the next set of tables, stacking the chairs. Inadvertently, Rus’s eyes followed the curve of his hip as he walked. He quickly pulled his gaze away and dug in his pockets for his keys, but came up empty. His phone also appeared to be missing.

Shit. He must have left them in Undyne’s purse. Well. That was inconvenient as fuck. “hey, uh…” He stood up and walked after the bartender. “you don’t happen to have a payphone here, do you?” The bartender glanced at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Lost your ride?”

“lost my keys,” Rus said, narrowing his sockets. His indignance only made the bartender smile wider, but he nodded at the bar.

“Behind the bar. There’s a jar of change there too if you need it.”

“i have my own change, but thanks.” He marched up to the phone, flipping through the pages of the phonebook in search of a taxi company. He leaned against the bricks of the back wall as the phone rang, glancing around the bar. The place was empty now, just the bartender circling the room. It was strange how it seemed to shrink without all its patrons.

The call stopped, greeting him with a dead dial tone. He scowled, searching for more change in his pockets and finding none. He eyed the free change jar dismally. Was his dignity really worth sacrificing a ride home?

“You know, if you’re having trouble getting home, I sleep upstairs. You’re welcome to spend the night here.” The bartender’s eyes were on him, and his smile hinted at more than a mere courtesy, a charming glint in his red eye-lights. He lifted a stool onto the bartop. “Or you could hitchhike. I hear the strangers are friendly in these parts.” Hardly true. This was about as down as downtown got.

“hilarious,” Rus said, hanging up the unhelpful payphone. “and are you actually trying to get me into bed right now?”

The bartender cocked a brow. “I don’t believe I made any mention of sex.”

Rus folded his arms and gave a lofty snort. “well—neither did i.” Well done, Rus. Totally dignified. The bartender’s mouth curled, and he returned to cleaning.

It took all of ten minutes for both of them to eat their words. Rus learned that the bartender’s name was Edge, and that he was a very good kisser. After closing up, he led Rus upstairs to the attic, where he pinned him against the bedroom door. Once he’d gotten Rus’s hoodie out the way, he occupied himself with his neck, latching onto it with his teeth. They were razor sharp, but he was careful with them. He had a way of focusing magic on just the tip of his tongue that made Rus shiver.

“you live here alone?” Rus asked, looking around the attic. It was orderly, and surprisingly homely. Shelves stacked with books, plush carpets, a table of figurines. “it’s nice.”

“I own the whole place,” Edge said between kisses. “And yes, it is nice.” He caught Rus around the waist and lower spine and drew him in close, kissing his bare ribs and sternum. Rus closed his eyes and exhaled, magic trickling down to his pubic arch. He gasped as Edge lifted him with a hand braced under his pelvis, his mouth never leaving Rus’s clavicle. Instinctively, Rus wrapped his legs around Edge’s waist and felt the press of his hard length through his jeans.

“so how often do you fuck your patrons up here?” he asked. Edge lowered him onto the bed and crawled between his knees, pausing to brush his thumb over Rus’s cheek. The gesture was brief, and likely meant nothing, but it made Rus blush.

“More often than I should, less often than I’d like,” Edge answered. Then, with a smirk, “Usually the sober ones who’ve been abandoned by their drunk friends.” Rus rolled his eyes.

“not the drunk ones?”

“You’ve seen one drunk idiot, you’ve seen them all.” Edge pushed their hips together and made a soft noise of satisfaction. “You’re comfortable with this?”

Rus blinked slowly. “uh... sure?”

Edge paused, frowning. “I mean—you’re comfortable bottoming?” At first, Rus mistook the question for a joke, and laughed. But Edge’s steady gaze didn’t waver.

“oh, you’re serious. yeah—yeah i like bottoming…” Not a complete lie. He liked it when he was alone and actually achieved climax.

“Alright.” Edge placed a tender kiss on Rus’s forehead and—shit, he was blushing again.

“um, i—here.” Reaching for a distraction, Rus unbuckled Edge’s belt. “let me—”

Edge caught his wrist. “If you’re bottoming, you’re going first.”

Rus stared at him, then let his hand drop. “o-okay.” He watched with magic in his mouth as Edge carefully pulled off his sweatpants, crouching between his parted knees.

“This is okay, right?”

Rus laughed helplessly. “you don’t have to keep asking.”

“We barely know each other. I’m not familiar with your non-verbal cues—so yes, I do have to keep asking.” Rus looked at him with a degree of alarm, but mustered a nod.

“well... alright. um, yes, yes, this is good.”

Fuck, more than good, he thought, as Edge began eating him out. He was gentle, slow with his tongue, and had a knack for finding Rus’s pressure points. He hooked his arms beneath Rus’s knees and lifted his legs over his shoulders. Rus exhaled and moaned softly, running his fingers over Edge’s horns. Edge grunted and pressed his tongue deep, right against a spot that made Rus whine. “Sorry,” he breathed, pulling back. “They’re sensitive.”

“oh—” Rus quickly let go of his horns. “sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

“Sensitive in the sense that you should definitely keep touching them.” Edge’s provocative smile was enough to banish all of Rus’s qualms. With little more than a stupefied nod, he gripped onto Edge’s horns and explored their texture, stroking the small ridges and chips. In short order, Edge had his tongue inside him again, and this time, Rus had difficulty keeping his cries restrained.

Yet all too soon, Edge sat up, bringing his pleasure to a slamming halt. Rus watched with veiled disappointment as he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Crawling up to kneel between Rus’s legs, he gently slid two fingers inside him. “This okay?” he asked, scissoring them.

“yeah,” Rus said faintly. “fine.” Edge contemplated him, carefully slipping his fingers out.

“Just fine?” he asked, his mouth curling upward. He lined himself up, pressing just the tip of his cock inside. “You want me to slow down? Vodka. Stop? Tequila.”

“is that a bartender joke?” Rus asked, deadpan.

Edge smiled. “If you don’t stop after the tequila, you’re in trouble.” He stroked Rus’s jaw with the back of his hand. “You good?”

Rus nodded robotically. “yeah.”

“You sure? I can go down on you for longer if you need more time.” Oh, what a tempting offer.

“it’s—it’s fine. you can keep going. this is good.” Rus squirmed beneath him and wrapped his legs around his waist. Edge sighed deeply and kissed him, just a gentle brush of teeth on teeth, then pushed his tongue into Rus’s mouth, kissing him deeply. He pushed forward with his hips, sinking about halfway before Rus tensed. “vodka!” he blurted, squeezing his fists around a handful of sheets. Edge stopped at once and withdrew a centimetre. “fuck…” Rus turned his face away. “i’m sorry—”

“Sorry? For using a designated caution word? Don’t be.” Edge pulled all the way out and Rus slumped, guilt gnawing at his insides.

“i just… i’m ruining this…”

“You’re not.” The look on Edge’s face was so tender, so cautiously mindful, that Rus had to avert his eyes. It was stewing emotions he really didn’t know how to deal with. “I know we barely know each other, but a one-night stand is a mutual agreement. If you’re not getting anything out of this, then I don’t want to keep going.”

“no, i am!” Rus wanted to bury himself. “gah—fuck, i’m sorry, i just—i don’t want you to feel like you have to make special accommodations just for me. this is just meant to be… sex.”

Edge lifted a concerned brow. “Sex is meant to be pleasurable—for both parties.”

“well, i know that…” Rus shifted uncomfortably beneath Edge, biting his tongue.

“How about this—” Edge rolled them over, setting Rus atop his hips. “You control the pace.”

Adjusting himself in Edge’s lap, Rus nodded. He fumbled Edge’s dick inside himself, grinding slowly. It slipped out and he grit his teeth. “fucking hell… i’m sorry.”

Edge shook his head, stroking Rus’s iliac crests. “Take your time. At the very least, I have a spectacular view from down here.” Rus blushed and hummed bemusedly, while Edge stroked his ribs with gentle hands.

After another couple of attempts, he managed to get Edge’s cock inside himself—just the first couple of inches. “Is that comfortable?” Edge asked. Rus nodded, closing his eyes and breathing out. “That’s it,” Edge said softly, stroking his femurs. “Nice and easy.” He sighed. “Mm, that feels good, Rus.”

Bracing his hands on Edge’s chest, Rus rocked back and forth on his cock. The pace was slow, just a grind of his hips, but fuck, it felt nice. The angle was just right, and the movements were easy to maintain. Being able to control the pace made it easier to relax, too. Edge’s hands wandered, but he didn’t try to take over, or even direct Rus.

“How does that feel?” he asked, brushing Rus’s inner thigh with his thumb. “Good?” Breathing deeply, Rus nodded. “Can I kiss you?” The question was so simple, yet there was so much consideration in Edge’s tone, that Rus laughed.

“yes, yes you can.” He leaned forward onto Edge’s chest and met his mouth. The kiss was slow, timed pleasantly with the gentle rocking of Rus’s hips. Rus shut his eyes and rested his head on Edge’s shoulder. “this angle feels good.”

“It does,” Edge breathed, kissing his neck and resting a hand on his lower spine.

“should i go faster?” Rus asked, moaning quietly as Edge trickled his fingers down his spine, making it prickle warmly.

“Only if you want to.”

“but—” Rus swallowed. “faster feels better for you, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, love, this feels just fine, trust me.”

Rus held back a smile. “just fine?”

Edge shook his head, though his amusement betrayed him. “More than.” For the first time, he gave the smallest thrust of his hips. His cock hit a sweet spot inside Rus and he whined, burying his face in the nape of Edge’s neck. “You’re doing so well.”

Pressure built in the pit of Rus’s pelvic cavity, hot magic rushing to his cunt. He bit Edge’s neck and Edge groaned deeply, clinging to his back. “You’re amazing at this, by the way,” he breathed. “Amazing.” His breaths were coming shorter now, quick gasps as he let his hands wander over Rus’s back.

“fuck, this feels so good,” Rus gasped, sitting up. He rubbed his clit, grinding hard. Edge’s face contorted with pleasure. He opened his mouth, gasping, then shut his eyes and groaned. Rus felt a burst of wet warmth filling him as Edge dug his fingers into his hips.

“Fuck,” he gasped, dragging his fingertips down Rus’s ribs. When he began to relax, Rus stopped moving and slowly climbed off him. He tried to hold back the crushing disappointment, but his chest felt heavy.

Exhaling, Edge lay back, wiping his hand over his eyes. “Sorry. I. I got a little lost in the moment there.”

“it’s fine.” Rus searched the floor for his pants, sliding off the bed.

“Hey.” Edge caught his wrist, pulling him back down. “Let me finish you off.” Deliberating briefly, Rus let Edge drag him back into bed. Edge climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply before sinking down and pressing his face between his femurs. Rus let his hands wander Edge’s horns. They were a degree warmer than the rest of his body, flushed with magic.

Edge lifted Rus’s legs around his shoulders and pressed his tongue deep. His mouth was warm against Rus’s cunt, and his own lingering release seemed of little bother. Rus’s climax built, sitting on the brink… before fading. But it wasn’t enough to deter Edge. He kept going, stroking Rus’s femurs as he did.

A good fifteen minutes passed and Rus’s frustration began to mount. “edge, i’m sorry… i’m taking so long. you don’t have to keep going…”

Edge looked up, a flicker of empathy crossing his face. “I want to keep going.” He smiled warmly and kissed Rus’s femur. “I’m enjoying myself. Honestly. You sound beautiful, and I like the feeling of you beneath my tongue.” His smile grew when Rus shuddered. “Unless you want me to stop.”

Rus shook his head, letting go of a breath. “fuck no.”

“Good.”

Edge ran his thumb over Rus’s outer folds and ducked his head again. Watching him became something of a delight for Rus. He stroked his horns and took satisfaction in knowing someone was willing to put this much time and effort into giving him just a moment of pleasure.

When he came at last, he clung to Edge’s horns, tipping his head back. Edge licked his clit delicately, channelling magic into the gesture, and Rus whined, then breathed out. Trailing kisses up his hip, then his spine, Edge came to settle on Rus’s chest. “How was that?” he murmured, eyes closed, smile soft.

“th-that’s the first time i’ve ever come during sex,” Rus confessed. The moment the words were out, his soul shrivelled. He blushed hotly and chewed on his fingertips. “sorry, that was… not the right time to share that.”

Edge laughed quietly. “On the contrary, I’m very flattered. Immediate feedback is always appreciated.”

Rus groaned, his embarrassment deepening. “oh, fuck… i just. i just have a very hard time coming during sex, i guess. especially from penetration. it’s nice, but i…” He shrugged helplessly.

Edge studied him with a mingle of amusement and pity. “Perhaps you’ve just been with the wrong people.”

“oh, and what? you’re mister right?”

“Being able to get your partner to come is the bare minimum,” Edge said, a tad bitterly. “You forget, we share biology. I’ve been in your position, believe me. I thought it was me. But…” He smiled wryly. “I’m pickier about my partners now. If they’re going to be coming, so am I.” He circled a finger around Rus’s sternum. “And vice versa. What’s important to me is that you enjoyed yourself.” He lifted his head, giving Rus a searching look. “Did you?”

Rus smiled, bending down to kiss him. “i did,” he said, and for once, he meant it.

[just-jordie-things]

The Boxer - Stiles Stilinski (part six)

word count: 3388 warnings: swearing, open ended ending a/n: well this is the final part !! hope y’all enjoyed this series <3 based on this song

[ and he carries the reminders of ev'ry glove that laid him down // or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame ]

“So, can I hold your hand?”

(y/n) jumped slightly, hand grabbing onto her locker door as she turned to see Stiles standing there.  Her cheeks flushed pink as she looked at him, instantly flashing back to the night before.

“Why?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow and looking around the halls.

“Because… I want to?” Stiles said, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips, not sure she’d give.  But (y/n) chuckled, and lifted her hand to hold it out to him, palm up.  Stiles grinned, and giddily clapped her hand before slipping his fingers between hers.

“So you’re still on this whole ‘doing whatever I want’ thing?” She asked, and Stiles nodded.

“Well yeah, it’s working for me so far isn’t it?”

“Touche” (y/n) responded dryly, shutting her locker with her free hand.  “So, you gonna explain this to your friends?” She asked, shaking their hands slightly.

“Our friends” He corrected.  “And sure, I will”

“And what are you going to tell them?” She asked.

“That… we’re….” He gestured between them, but (y/n) cocked her head to the side like she didn’t understand.

“What, dating?” She scoffed, and his brows furrowed at her response.  “I don’t remember you ever asking, Stilinski.  Is this your way of doing that?”

“I kinda figured it just happened” He shrugged his shoulders, and she laughed.  Not cruelly, just finding his demeanor to be humorous.

“Alright then, tell them that-”

“Oh my God!”

Kira Yukimura’s squeal echoed down the entire corridor, in in seconds she’d sprinted from the main entrance to the lockers where Stiles and (y/n) were standing, still holding hands.

“Did it happen!? It did didn’t it! Oh my God I’ve waited months! I’m so happy for the both of you!” She threw her arms around the two, still bouncing on her feet as she embraced them tightly.  “I’ve shipped you since day one!”

“Should I ask what that means?” (y/n) asked, running out of breath from how tight she was being hugged.  Kira released them from her hug, grinning between the two.

“No” Stiles answered quietly, shaking his head rapidly.  “Just save what little innocence you have left” (y/n) smacked his arm with the back of her hand.

“I just really love that this is happening” The petite kitsune clasped her hands together as she smiled brightly.  “I have to text Lydia and Malia.  And Scott ad Liam- you know what, I’ll just tell the whole group chat!”

She ran off before either Stiles or (y/n) could say anything.

“Should I ask what ‘shipped’ means?” (y/n) asked, turning to Stiles with a curious look.  “And why I feel like you started it?” He rolled his eyes at her comment, knowing she was just messing with him.

“Ha.  Ha, always so funny” He responded with a strong amount of snark.

“I do think my sense of humor is what people always remember most about me” She winked.  “Anyways, I have to get to Calculus”

“Alright” Stiles said with a short laugh, leaning down as though to kiss her, but she took a small step back.  He looked at her, puzzled.  “What?”

“Let’s just..” (y/n) looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then lowered her voice.  “Keep it casual? When we’re in public?” She asked him.  Stiles leaned back away from her and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah whatever you want” He told her with a forced smile.  She smiled back in silent gratitude, and squeezed his hand before saying bye and walking to class.

He didn’t blame her for not wanting other people to see her sweeter side, and he didn’t blame her now for not wanting them to see her being affectionate with him.  She’d been ogled at and talked about enough.

“I can’t believe that Kira texted me and you didn’t” Lydia hissed when she caught (y/n) in the library, Malia and the kitsune herself standing with her.  (y/n) looked up from her homework with a knowing smile.

“Let me guess,” She sighed.  “You want every detail?”

“Uh, yeah” Lydia replied with her proper amount of sass, setting her things down and taking a seat next to her.  Malia and Kira sitting with them as well.

“I want the details too,” Malia chirped up.  “My life in the sheets is becoming a bore, I’d rather hear about yours than even think about mine” There was silence between the four girls for a moment before (y/n) cleared her throat.

“There’s not a lot to tell… really,” She said.  “I mean, I think we’re dating, sort of, it’s all very unclear, but… it’s nice” Lydia smiled at (y/n), seeing her nonetheless being happy about the situation.  “He’s different than Gabe, I know that’s obvious but… I don’t know.  I genuinely like him”

“That’s good,” Malia nodded with pursed lips.  “Having an emotional attachment will probably improve your sex”

“Okay then,” Lydia said loudly and gave the coyote a pointed look.

“What?” Malia mumbled.  Kira didn’t say anything, but she did stifle her giggling behind her hand.

“I’m so happy for you honey,” Lydia turned back to (y/n) with a sweet smile.  “And Malia’s right” She added in a quieter volume.  (y/n) rolled her eyes but still smiled back at her friend.

“Thank you, I think” She answered.

“Are you going to talk to your parents?” Kira asked.  “Since he’s… your boyfriend?”

“Oh,” (y/n) paused, the thought hadn’t once crossed her mind.  “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t even think of that”

“You don’t have to,” Lydia urged.  “You can, if you want, but no one’s going to fault you if we don’t.  It’s your choice to make completely, and you do what you want-”

“It’s okay, Lydia,” (y/n) said.  “You don’t have to give me the friendship first talk.  I know that it’s a standard… I just don’t know with our lives it is” She shrugged.

“My mom took a while to warm up to Scott” Kira pitched in, but her expression gave away that she instantly regretted mentioning it.  “Not the same thing… sorry”

“It’s really not” Malia mumbled to the girl.  “(y/n’s) parents are psychos, yours are just conservative”

“Guys-” Lydia hissed.

“She’s right,” (y/n) laughed bitterly.  “There’s a good chance they’d hunt down all of you, to be honest.  They are psychopaths, huh?” She looked at Malia, who nodded in absolute agreement.  “So, I guess he’s a secret”

“Oh, it’s like Romeo and Juliet!” Kira said, holding her hands to her heart as she smiled lovingly at the girl.

“They both died in the end” (y/n) commented, but Kira waved a hand dismissively.

“You, a beautiful boxer of grace and mystery!” She went on dramatically, standing from her chair and waving her arms around.  Malia and Lydia shared a bored but not surprised look.  (y/n) on the other hand sat with wide eyes and a confused face.  “And him! A human detective! In a pack of wild card supernaturals! Lead by your parent’s arch enemy, a wolf!”

“Alright, why don’t you sit down before everyone in here hears about the only secret we need you to keep” Lydia suggested, and Kira took her seat again.

“I still think it’s a bit romantic, the enigma of it all” She said finally.

“You think it’s going to be a problem? Eventually?” (y/n) asked seriously.  “I mean… think about it” She visibly deflated the more she thought about it.

“Hey, woah” Lydia leaned towards the girl, setting her hand on her shoulder.  “Don’t think about that, that’s ridiculous.  It’s almost the end of your senior year, whether or not you go off to college, you could get your own place, take over your own life” She said supportively.  “And we’ll all help you out, of course” She added.

(y/n) smiled timidly, appreciating her encouragement.  But she couldn’t help but wonder how long it’ll take her parents to find out the truth.

A few hours later, she caught Stiles and Scott during the hall in passing time, so she quickened her pace to catch up and walk with them.

“Hey, guys,” She called, and both boys turned around and smiled as she caught up to them.

“Well if it isn’t the devil herself,” Scott grinned at Stiles knowingly, who flustered at the comment.  “What’s it like? Dating this guy?”

“In a word? Magical” (y/n) responded sarcastically, fluttering her eyelashes, and clasping her hands together as she looked up at Stiles.  “Oh, prince charming, do tell Scott of our beautiful night together, do tell him of the ecstasies-”

“Okay it’s not funny anymore,” Stiles chuckled, holding a hand over her mouth.  He could tell she was smiling behind it though.

“So far life is full of interviews when it comes to being with him,” She said, taking Stiles’ hand away from her face.  “Right now I’m waiting for random people to start asking me what he’s like in bed-”

“Still not funny” Stiles said, nudging her in the side.  She giggled slightly and Scott smiled at the two.

“I like this,” He said, waving his finger around at the both of them.  “You being a little less kickass and a little more girlfriend material” (y/n) rolled her eyes but still chuckled.

“Alright, I have to get to class now,” She said, smiling up at Stiles before heading off towards her classroom, waving at the both as she left.

“You guys have a weird dynamic,” Scott told Stiles when they were alone.  “But I can tell she really likes you” The pale boy smiled involuntarily, turning to watch (y/n) walking away.

“Yeah,” He sighed with a sort of happiness.  “I really like her too”

(y/n) had met Stiles at his Jeep after school, even though her car was in the lot just a few rows away.

“Hey,” She smiled at him, holding onto the straps of her backpack.  “So, Scott ask a lot of questions?”

“You have no idea,” He replied.  “Lydia?”

“Oh, all three of them” She clarified with a laugh.  “But that’s alright, I expected it” He nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, would’ve been weirder if no one said anything” He said.

“So, I kinda have to talk to you about something…” (y/n) said, voice uneasy as her eyes looked everywhere but him.  “Because that’s what we do, and I think it’s right to bring it up,”

“Are you trying to freak me out?” Stiles asked anxiously, and she laughed softly, shaking her head.

“No, no I just… I don’t think you should meet my parents”

“Okay”

“It’s not anything against you it’s just- wait, okay?” Her mind registered his answer, puzzled why he’d agreed so quickly.  “Really? You’re just fine with that?”

“Sure, if you don’t want me to that’s fine.  I can think of a few reasons on my own as to why” He clicked his tongue as he swiped a finger over his neck, and (y/n) laughed again at his metaphor for death.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much why” She responded.  “I’m glad you’re cool with it though, you get it” He winked at her, which made her cheeks flush pink a bit.

“You need a ride home though?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No, I drove today so I’ll be good” She answered.  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Sure will” he grinned, leaning forward to kiss her cheek swiftly in goodbye.  “Bye (y/n/n)”

She waved, heading off with flushed cheeks and a sweet smile.  This was definitely something that she could get used to.

Stiles went to Scott’s house after school, to catch up and play video games mostly, but the majority of their time was talking about his new relationship.

“Kira said that (y/n) was giddy, actually giddy this morning when they were talking to her about you” Scott said, smirking over at his buddy before going back to the game.  Stiles chuckled almost bashfully.

“Yeah… I think this thing is really gonna work out.  Not like last time,”

“You mean your two week fling with Malia?” Scott laughed, knowing Stiles hated having that brought up.  But at least with Stiles he doesn’t get punched, like Malia often does when it’s mentioned.

“Agh,” He groaned and waved a dismissive hand.  “This is different, it’s real,” He said, and Scott nudged his shoulder against his.  “You know, I think that I’m falling in love with her”

“We know” Scott laughed blatantly.  “Since you actually started being friends, we could tell.  It was kinda obvious, I mean, it was only a matter of time until someone did something”

“You could?” Stiles asked, completely surprised.

“Yeah,” Scott said, laughing again, to the point where he lost the round because he couldn’t focus on the game.  “You two were always around each other, she got close with you before any of us, and that’s saying something, since I think she genuinely hated your guts for a solid two years”

“She didn’t hate me…” Stiles said, but recalled his first encounter with her.  When she told him to fuck off, and he was certain she was going to spit on him.  “She just… wasn’t really my friend yet”

“Ha,” Scott scoffed.  “She hated you, just accept it.  But you know what?”

“How are you going to lift me up from that?” Stiles asked sarcastically.

“I think that she’s falling in love with you.  Really, I think that she is” Scott said when Stiles gave him a disbelieving look.  “She trusts you more than anybody else, and that’s just a fact”

“(y/n’s) friends with all of us” Stiles argued.

“Of course, and she’s great and I love that she’s one of us now” Scott agreed.  “But if she had… let’s say… big news, who would she tell first?”

“Maybe Lydia?” Stiles answered, and Scott shook his head.

“Nope.  She’d go straight to you, I guarantee it” Scott said.  “That’s what I’m saying, she cares about you the absolute most”

Stiles was going to argue, but he couldn’t help the smile that overtook his features instead.  Scott had a point, and he knew all alone (y/n) trusted him entirely.

“I do think I love her” Stiles mumbled after a while, and Scott grinned, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

The boys spent the rest of their night, talking and playing video games, just like the old days, before supernatural issues, before people started dying, and the only problem they had was sucking at lacrosse.  

Stiles almost missed those days, because looking back they did seem easier, but he found himself glad that they were over, and life had changed.  If it wasn’t for Scott getting bit, Lydia becoming a banshee, all the shit that had turned his life upside down.  They would’ve never met Malia, never saved her life.  Allison Argent would have been forced into becoming a hunter, just like (y/n) almost had.  He would never appreciate his life as much as he did now.

“I’m gonna call her” Stiles said, after thinking it all over for a few minutes.  “I’ll try to make it quick”

“Nah, take your time man” Scott replied.

When Stiles pulled his phone out from his pocket, it started ringing.

“Sweet irony,” Stiles said, showing Scott that (y/n) was calling.  The werewolf rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “Hey,” Stiles said when he answered the phone.

“Hey- um-” (y/n) hiccuped into the receiver.  “Could you m-maybe-”

“(y/n)? Are you alright?” Stiles asked when she stuttered over her words.

“Y-yeah could you c-come over? L-like now?” She asked, and he could hear her sniffling.  “I know it’s y-your night with Scott b-but I-”

“It’s fine” Scott said to Stiles, hearing (y/n) clearly through the phone.  “She obviously needs you”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?” Stiles told her, cutting her off from her slurred rambling.

“O-okay” She almost whispered back.  “C-can you come in through m-my window?”

“Sure, just open it for me, alright?” Stiles waved to Scott as he gathered his things and head out of the house.

“Th-thanks” (y/n) mumbled, and she hung up the phone before Stiles could say anything to her.  He sighed, putting his phone away and driving over.

(y/n) was sat on the edge of her bed, in her pajamas, with tears streaming down her face as she held a pillow tightly against her chest.  Her mental state in complete agony as she silently cried.

It wasn’t until there was a loud thumping, followed by a pained grunt, that she broke from her daze, eyes darting to her window.  Stiles had just pulled himself into her room, and fell onto the floor.  He muttered a string of curses before getting up, and seeing (y/n) with tear stains on her cheeks.

“Oh-oh my God (y/n)-” He scrambled up and rushed over to her, she barely had time to stand before he was wrapping her in his arms.  “What happened? What’s going on?” He asked, but didn’t let go of her.

“They- I’m-”

“Breathe first,” He told her softly, petting her hair slightly as she heaved to get herself under control.

“My parents,” She eventually sighed, and pulled out of his hold.  “They want me to either start training to be one of them, or move out after graduation” She said, looking up at him with big tear filled eyes.  “I just- they-”

“Hey,” Stiles said, cupping her cheeks and making her look at him.  “Look, hey…” He shushed her as her breaths came out in hiccups.  “You’ve got… five months until you’ve got to seriously worry about that” He said, thumbs wiping her cheeks dry.  “And even so, I’ll help you find a great fucking apartment, and to move all of your shit there, and out of this hellhole”

“You will?” She asked, staring adoringly up at him.  He nodded, smiling at her.

“Yeah, of course,” He told her.  “I hate you living here about as much as you hate living here” He told her with a bitter chuckle.  “I’d break you out of here if I could-”

He was cut off by her leaning up on her toes and pressing her lips against his, a soft and quick kiss, but it quietened him nonetheless.  When they parted she smiled at him, blinking away her remaining tears.

“Thanks,” She mumbled, holding his jaw in her hands as she smiled a sad smile at him.  He smiled back and nodded.

“You let me know when you need me to help you out with that, alright?” He asked, and she nodded at him, pecking his lips before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“I’m glad you came over” She mumbled, shutting her eyes as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.  “Stiles I- I’m just really glad to have you,” She told him.  Stiles chuckled slightly, thinking back to his conversation with Scott earlier.

“You know, Scott was just telling me how I’m your favorite” He told her teasingly, and she even giggled a little bit.

“You want to stay for a while?” She asked him.  “Not overnight, just in case my parents barge in or something, but maybe-”

“Yeah, yeah I don’t mind sneaking out in a few hours” He told her.  She grinned up at him, and crawled back in bed, Stiles following.  “I’ll leave after you fall asleep” He said, and she smiled as he brought the blankets over her.

“That’d be perfect,” She sighed, settling into his arms.  Her eyes already fluttering shut.  “Thanks, Stiles”

“Mhm” He hummed back, hand rubbing her back to try to relax her.  “Try to get some sleep,” He said before yawning.

“G’night” She mumbled, and not long after she fell asleep.

Stiles laid with her for a few hours, making sure to stay up and not get too tired.  After she was long asleep, he carefully slipped out of bed, covering her in her blankets, and crept out the window.

He loved her.  He was certain of that now.  And he couldn’t wait to tell her.

taglist: @theraggedwerewolf @cas-loves-pizza @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 @lady-winterediting @the-crime-fighting-spider @socially-awkward-nerd @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lovelynerdytraveler  @writings-and-stuff @jurassicpork @the-crime-fighting-spiders @black-tights-black-heart @piper-x-lee @kal-pal @catcrown21 @anabundanceoftrash @dylxnob @barryallenplease @loverofwaytoomanythings618 @vibhati123 @spider-mendes

xoxo ~ jordie