#so its very easy for me to fall into the line of thinking that all people are inherently evil and want to hurt me and use me all the time

[valleyyofthemoonnn]

you ever love people and humanity and the inherent Good of it so much it aches and hurts your heart , because you never see it. its never really been there for you to see it. you’ve only ever experienced the bad of it, but you’re so in love with the idea, you want to breathe and be alive just for the chance to see it ? you ever just do that?

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ KISS IT BETTER — GETO SUGURU.

contents. post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru has nightmares :(, chest kissies for sugu <3, reader lays on top of him, like very cheesy banter my bad

suguru gets nightmares—it’s expected, but it’s not easy. it breaks your heart—very painfully so—every time he jolts up with frantic eyes and labored breaths.

he tries to shake you off and pretend he’s fine the first few times, but by the time it’s happened enough, he resigns himself to letting you handle things, just like you always do.

it’s easier when you handle things—he’s starting to realize that more.

“another one?” you mumble through a yawn, sitting up and hugging him from behind as your cheek rests on his bare back. he grunts, hunched over with his head in his hands.

“‘s okay,” he says quietly, “you can go back to sleep.”

“we both know i’m not doing that, suguru,” you hum, palm rubbing slow circles into his abs. he sighs, melting into your touch eventually as he leans against you, head falling back to lay on your shoulder.

“sorry,” he whispers, “i didn’t wanna wake you.”

“i wish you would,” you hum, tracing his nose delicately as you kiss the side of his head, “i wish you’d let me help, baby.”

“you already help enough,” he mutters—almost bitterly, you note, “i don’t need to make you lose sleep over it.”

“you’d do the same for me,” you say gently, “wouldn’t you?”

“of course,” he says instantly.

sometimes, suguru is too kind for the world. it tramples him and leaves him curled on the floor under its cruelty. sometimes, he gives too much and forgets to take, to ask, and it’s starting to show. it’s starting to pile up and become too much and you think, just for once, someone should give to suguru too—because he deserves it.

“it’s a two way street, y’know,” you smile against his temple, “wake me up next time. please?”

“you really wanna see me at my lowest, huh?” he tries to crack a joke and dodge the question—but you know suguru, and you know what he needs. sometimes before he knows himself, even.

“everyone needs someone in their lowest, baby,” you mumble, “it helps more than you think.”

it’s silent for a bit. it’s like that more often than not with suguru these days—he’s silent, prefers the quiet and tender moments alone with you when you happen to catch them. he doesn’t have the energy to talk, and you don’t make him, and he’s grateful. he’s grateful when your fingers weave into his hair and your lips find his cheek, when you’re content with laying your head on his chest and just being there as he thinks.

you look down as he lays against you, his back to your chest and his body slotted between your legs, resting in your hold. it’s silent—he doesn’t always want to talk, and you don’t make him.

and he’s grateful.

finally, he breaks the silence first. “i felt it all over again,” he mumbles, “the…on my…”

his hand instinctively covers his chest, and you know what he means—he doesn’t have to finish, doesn’t have to say anything else before you press a tender kiss to his head. suguru doesn’t have scars on his chest. shoko’s reverse cursed technique heals well enough that the scars on his chest don’t remain even a little. it’s almost like it never happened—no proof of the x shaped slashes from blades to his chest.

but suguru can still feel his skin slicing sometimes—in fact, he thinks he can never forget it.

“hmm,” you think out loud, “well, there’s only one remedy for this i’m afraid.”

he looks up and raises a brow, staring at you before you crawl from under him, letting him plop down against the pillows as your body turns to hover over his.

“what are you—”

“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to his chest, starting from his collarbone before continuing in a diagonal line down the rest of his sternum. he can’t help but let his lips slowly widen into a smile with each one, letting out a soft chuckle when you tickle the skin slightly. “i read somewhere that kisses are really good for healing,” you murmur.

“ah yes, your doctorate from webmd is really coming in handy,” he teases, grinning when your lips press against his collarbone once more, on the other side this time as you peck along his chest in another diagonal line. it’s silly, a little pointless even—the wounds have long healed and you can’t even be sure you’re kissing where the scars would be, but suguru seems to brighten considerably with every touch of your lips.

it’s enough.

“well, my handsome patient,” you say cheekily, “did that help?”

“oh yes,” he nods dramatically, “i feel better than ever. thank god i have a gorgeous doctor like you.”

“hmm, i am rather gorgeous,” you brighten, giggling as he pulls you down by the wrist to kiss you softly. his hands are on your cheeks, cupping your face delicately as you hum against his mouth. “better?” you ask pulling away, pecking the corner of his mouth.

he nods, wrapping two strong arms around you as you lay over his body, grinning up at you.

“better,” he assures, “they should let you open up your own clinic. you’d put the hospitals out of business.”

“but suguru,” you gasp, “then i would have to kiss random men—surely you can’t let that happen!”

“you’re right,” he plays along, eyes widening in faux concern, “i can’t. i guess i’ll have to be your only patient.”

you smile at him—it’s radiant enough to clear the dark clouds of his shoulders, gentle enough that he feels the hardened parts of him start to go soft just a little. sometimes, suguru gets nightmares—they’re not easy, but you make them feel a lot less impossible.

it’s enough.

“what a waste of my higher education,” you sigh, “but fine. you’ll be the only one i kiss better.”

“i’m so grateful,” he snorts, pulling the blanket over your bodies as he holds you close.

sleep comes easier that night—and every night after.

i’ve decided to give this lil healing sugu series a tag so it’s: #operation: heal suguru! and you can click the tag below on this post to read the earlier drabbles !!

anyway unseen footage from this moment is that i actually sucked his tiddies as i kissed his chest. bc lord knows he just needed his tiddies sucked and he’d have been 100% happier and fine

[crazyk-imagine]

Napping and Defending Friends

Pairing: Sanji x Straw hat!reader

Characters: Straw hat!reader, Sanji, Usopp, Zoro, Nami, Monkey D. Luffy, Kaya

Warnings: Sanji being sanji, everyone outing reader or sanji to the other, this is kinda cute, fluff, everyone is nosey as hell, everyone is tired of Sanji and reader going around one another's feelings, the last few lines with the crew make me giggle, reader is (not so secretly) a pirate with her own bounty 0-0

Word Count: 2,688

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You roll your eyes, listening to the two acting like children. You bump the green haired man to the side with your hip.  "Shut up already. You two are acting immature for your age." You lift your plate. "I'll take more."

Sanji shakes his head to the left, moving his bangs away from his eye. He lifts the ladle, giving you a decent portion. "And I'll gladly feed those who enjoy my food."

Zoro rolls his eyes, leaving you two to flirt some more.

-

The sound of Usopp's voice explaining what happened drew you all in, moving closer to listen to him.

You stop mid bite to listen. "I would ask to see his supposedly bloody fingers," you shrug. "But, whatever."

"Let him have his moment," Nami mutters.

"But it's more fun to get him stuttering if I make him tell the truth. It's very easy to break him into confessing."

"And I couldn't do it alone."

"Damn right you couldn't," you tell him, earning a chuckle from the group and your crew.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Let's hear it for the great captain Usopp," Luffy shouts.

Your lips tug to the side, "that's so not going to give him an ego boost."

Sanji chuckles, covering his mouth with his hand when Nami and Zoro turn to face him.

His eyes glance at you from the corner of his eyes and smiles, his heart races and stomach flutters at the sight of you (not so gracefully) scarfing down the food he cooked.

-

The calm mood falls when Luffy's grandpa announces he and the marine’s arrival.

"Hey, gramps."

He narrows his eyes at you, never quite taking a liking to you like his grandson did.

Although, he did find comfort in the fact that the rubber man had someone to help and guide him (which is why he disliked you). It also didn't help that you would feed into his "becoming the future king of the pirates" dream.

Before you know it, the two family members are in battle.

Your anger gets the better of you and you forget what you've been proud to consider a usable future trait, think before doing. "Don't hurt, Luffy."

As your friend flies back, you manage to latch onto the man, his head between your hands with just a mere few inches keeping his spinal cord intact.

His nails scratch the top of your hands, the adrenaline keeping you from feeling the pain.

You try to slip your feet underneath his armpits to pull his arms back and away from you.

"Stop it," Luffy mutters, still trying to get air into his lungs.

"Huh?"

"Let go of him."

"But he-"

"This is my fight."

You grumble under your breath as you push yourself off him and if your foot accidentally finds its way into his back, oh well.

The old man grumbles the pain.

You glare at his grandpa during their fight, never letting your tense posture go.

Sanji's hand hovers over your shoulder, he hesitates to give you some sort or comfort; his hand falls beside him as the orange haired girl takes a step-in front of you, preventing you from slipping past them.

"This was all a test?"

"Go. Arlong's pirates are still on the island."

You scoff. "Now you don't want to be a dick."

The chef coughs to hide his amusement.

"Shut up."

"You can't tell me what to do Roro Zoro."

"I told you not to call me that."

You stick your tongue out at him.

"Children, I'm dealing with children," Nami mutters.

Sanji shoves his hands into his pockets.

-

You sit across from the stove, observing the chef's knife skills.

"The harder you stare, the more likely he is to mess up," a deep voice brings you out of your thoughts.

"Do you want to try and do it?" You ask, resting your hand on your knuckles.

"You can't match his skill."

"You are too kind, madame."

"It's true. I still don't even know how you can do this, and I've been watching you prepare the vegetables for a while." You steal a chopped veggie and snack on it when the rubber man bursts in, setting a piece of paper on the counter.

"You finally got your own poster."

"Yeah, no more piggybacking off you."

"WHAT?"

"Nothing, look at the amount of berry's your wanted for."

"I know."

"Everyone's going to be after you now," Zoro tells him.

"Every bounty hunter is going to be after all of us in the East Blue," Nami adds.

"Finally, a challenge."

The orange haired girl shakes her head at you.

"Then it's a good thing we're not staying in the East Blue," Luffy explains.

You clap once. "Finally, you make sense. Let's go."

"Yes!" Luffy raises his hand for a high five which you gladly give to him.

"Come on, people. We're settin' sail. Move it."

-

"Have you seen a barrel on deck?"

Your brows knit together. "Sanji, did you find a plant you shouldn't have?"

"No, I-" He chuckles, "no, no. I just- I have an idea." He calls for the others and everyone gathers around. He sets his foot on top of the barrel. "I am gonna find the all blue."

Next, naturally was your oldest friend, "I'm gonna become king of the pirates."

Zoro puts his foot up. "I'm gonna become the world's greatest swordsman."

And then, Nami. "I'm gonna draw a map of the world."

Followed by Usopp. He hesitates, unsure of what his promise should be. "I'm gonna be a brave warrior of the sea."

Now everyone's eyes fall on you. "Oh, it's my turn. Uh- I don't know what to say. I feel like I've gotten things I didn't know I needed."

"There has to be something," Luffy says.

You lift your leg, "I'm gonna promise never to forget who I am."

"That's too easy."

A faux chuckle escapes you. "It's easy to forget who you were and your code," you tell Luffy.

"Alright."

"I like it," Sanji says.

"Thank you. See I knew someone would." You stick your tongue out at the rubber man. "That's enough. I'm going back inside. I need a nap."

"I can get started preparing tonight's dinner." He basically skips after you.

"I hope they figure out whatever they have going on soon," Usopp shakes his head. "It's getting really..."

"Annoying," Zoro adds.

"It's not- it could be worse."

"How much worse than two people going around their feelings for one another." Nami raises a brow causing the storyteller to look away because he did the exact same thing with Kaya.

"That's not what we're talking about right now." The man pouts and walks inside, not wanting to be outed anymore.

"Has anyone else noticed how easily he follows her after she hugged him."

"Yeah," Luffy nods, agreeing with the storyteller. "Wait- what hug? They hugged and I missed it. Oh man."

Nami shakes her head, "is that what you're really focusing on right now?"

"Yes. I think he'd be good for her."

"You do?"

"Clearly he hit his head too hard during that fight with his grandpa," Zoro adds.

"We probably should've checked to see if he had a concussion before boarding," Nami says.

"Why are you guys talking like I'm not even here?"

The three shared a look and chuckled.

"C'mon, guys. Tell me, please?"

-

You wake up from your nap to the smell of well-cooked food. You're still pleased Sanji decided to join the crew, it was time there was someone (else) who could prepare a nicely cooked meal and not burn eggs or not know how to cut a vegetable.

You lean against the doorway, enjoying the pleasant aroma of food coming from a few feet away.

"You're awake."

You open your eyes, not realizing you closed them. "Yes, I was persuaded to get out of bed because of what you're cooking."

"Is that the only reason?" He teases.

"Ask me again after I've finished my meal."

"Will you have a different answer?"

"Maybe."

He glances up from the ingredients he's mixing as the corner of his lips tugs upwards.

"In the meantime, I'll be over here with my eyes closed."

"Napping again?"

"No, just resting my eyes."

"If that's what you say, then I believe you."

-

"Is anyone going to wake her up?" Luffy asks, munching on his meal.

"Why can't you do it?" Nami asks, "she's your friend."

"And?"

"What are you all babbling on about?"

"They're trying to wake her," Zoro uses his head to gesture to your sleeping figure.

"Are you all so scared to wake such," Sanji glances down at your relaxed face, "a beautiful creature?"

Usopp groans, taking another bite of his meal. "Do something already."

The chef places hands on your shoulders, lightly shaking you until he finds himself staring at the ceiling, gasping to get the air back into his lungs.

Your face comes into view. "What were you doing?" You push yourself off him.

He groans when you pull him up.

"Waking you," he groans. "I see why no one wakes you now."

"I said, I was sorry," you mumble.

"And that's why we leave her alone," Zoro tells him.

"Shut up, make fun of Luffy or Usopp's love for food and Kaya."

"Woah, woah. Don't drag me into this. I did nothing." The storyteller raises his hands, dropping the meat he had in his hands.

"You all are going to get brought into this."

"I'm just gonna-" Usopp runs around to the other side of the counter.

You chase after him, he counters going around; eventually you stop following him and jump up on the counter and launch yourself in his direction. But are unable to catch- "You're such a bug. I am this close to squashing you under my foot."

"Your fingers are touching," Nami points out.

"Exactly, orangie," you smile at her. "Can you put me down now?"

"Are you going to continue acting like a child in my kitchen?"

"That depends on the bug."

"She's not, hold her so I can finish my-" Usopp yelps when you reach out for him.

"Stop trying to attack your fellow crew members." Luffy orders you, food flying out of his mouth.

"How did you ever deal with him?" Sanji mumbles, unable to keep himself away from you, "he has no manners."

"I don't know." You shrug, taking a bite of the dinner he prepared (as he stands beside you, leaning against the counter). You moan as the flavors hit your tongue. "Again, I'm very," you pat his arm unable to open your eyes due to the richness of the seasonings hitting your tongue. "Very happy you decided to come aboard."

He chuckles, not at all trying to hide that his cheeks are enflamed from anyone. "I am happy to hear that, mademoiselle. That is what every chef lives to hear."

"But you're not every chef."

Nami groans, closing her eyes at the sudden headache. "Can you two stop flirting for two seconds so we can eat in peace?"

You open your eyes and stare. "If you don't like it, then leave. We are enjoying ourselves and if you don't like it, then shut up."

"But-"

You stick your tongue out and shove another spoonful into your mouth. She sighs and doesn't say anything else. "That's what I thought."

"Could you say that again?" The blond asks, breaking the silence.

"Which part?"

"The part where you don't deny us flirting with one another."

"Oh, yeah." You don't know what else to do and use your spoon to move around the carrots on your plate, not entirely focused.

On the one hand this could be good, and you'd be able to confess. Although on the other hand, he could reject you and that can potentially lead to some awkwardness between you, him, and the rest of the crew. And in the case, he tells you he doesn’t feel the same, you will respect his wishes.

Is this a risk you're willing to take?

You take a deep breath. "I won't because it's true."

The others don't know what to do, this is not what they were expecting after they just started to return on their adventure for the grand line.

His breath hitches, "oh?"

You nod. "It's hard to deny the facts when they're right in front of you. Plus, these guys would make sure to do something about it at some point."

"What?"

"No," Usopp and Luffy scoff, as if they're offended.

"Okay, maybe but only because we know you two are good for each other," the rubber man argues.

"See," you use your utensil to point at the two. "They'd definitely be the first to try and plan something for us."

"Appreciate the thought boys, but I am capable of taking things into my own hands." He wraps an arm around your shoulders, leading you outside.

-

"Are you sure it's safe to leave them alone? I think we should go back."

He tilts his head, the corner of his lips tugged upwards. "Are you, dare I ask, afraid to be alone with me?"

You scoff, "hardly."

"Then why don't you admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"That you like me."

You roll your eyes, "you're crazy."

"Am I? Or is that maybe you don't want to admit it fully to yourself because you were perfectly fine admitting that we were flirting, so what makes this so different?"

"Okay, fine." You walk back and forth along the deck. "Maybe, I do."

"I'm going to need more than that."

You stomp your foot and speed walk to him. "I am not going to repeat myself for the sake of you just wanting me to repeat myself because-"

You barely have any time to acknowledge the kiss until his breath fans against your lips. "I figured I'd save you this time."

You frown. "This doesn't make up for when I saved you and Usopp at the Baratie."

He nods, "I know." He glances from one eye to the other, "this does." And he does it again.

You put a hand on his chest, pulling away this time. "We have an audience."

"What?"

"To your left."

He glances over at them and back at you, a hint of mischief twinkling. "Let's give them a show."

"Wha-"

He presses his hand against your back, cupping the base of your neck as he tips you down.

Usopp and Luffy cheer as Nami and Zoro give looks of disapproval (even though they're happy you two did something about your feelings).

"Okay, that's enough. We get it, you two are together and you knew we were here."

The blond pulls back and smirks down at your flushed face, winking when you catch his gaze. "We didn't know you were there, forgive us."

You owlishly blink, not at all focusing on everything going on around you. You return your attention onto him, feeling his thumb brushing against your side since your shirt had risen from his show.

"Are you alright?"

You nod, "I'm fine."

"Are you? I feel as though you are not. I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't I?" He shakes his head at his behavior. "I know, I know. I'm sorry but I- I was excited."

You gently remove his hand from you before stomping past Zoro (who puts his foot out to trip the chef).

"What? What did I do?"

You groan and spin around. "You make it so hard to be mad at you."

All the worry leaves his body. He happily chases after you. "What can I do to make it less hard on you? Not be as cute, perhaps."

Nami nods, "I'm gonna go puke now."

"Ah, come on. They're not that bad."

The echoes of Sanji's voice playing coy can be heard out onto the deck.

"It's cute," Luffy shrugs.

"They won't be as cute when he has to wake her up," Zoro adds.

"Oh, that's a good idea," Usopp nods. "Make him the target."

Nami covers her face with her hand. "You're an idiot."

"What?"

"Stupid says what," Zoro mumbles.

"What?"

"I rest my case," the orange haired girl adds.

Return to: Part I

[kcrossvine-art]

Hey folks! Itsssssssssssss timeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee for another dungeon meshi cooking time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Isnt that neat.

Its weird to think how long its gonna be before season 2 of the anime drops. Anyway go read the manga i promise you wont regret it. This ones from senshis lil garden on legs-

Today we'll be making Golem Field Fresh Veggie Lunch!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Golem Field Fresh Veggie Lunch?” YOU MIGHT ASKIts vegetables, vegetable wauter, and not Much else! Knife is there too.

Head of cabbage

4 carrots

3 potatoes

2 onions

2 turnips

Thick slice bacon

Butter

Seasoned rice vinegar

I lied theres pork did you fall for it did u catch it.

AND, “what does Golem Field Fresh Veggie Lunch taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKSon, have you ever eaten a vegetabel

Broth is surprisingly flavorful considering the limited spices and short cooktime

Potatoes are perfect texture for dipping

Cabbage absorbed a lot of the juices!!!

Was more impressed by the salad part of the meal-

The turnips need to be sliced enough to Barely see through, and the carrots julienned thin enough to be almost peels

And its this wonderful vegetable confetti tasteful in its simple pleasure

Rice vinegar of any kind will work, seasoned rice vinegar is just what i had

Salt both parts of the meal generously

In the future i wouldve shredded or cut the cabbage much smaller. We'll talk more on that later. Its also intentionally barebones with spices and oils, me using butter and rice vinegar is even pushing the limits of show accurate because in the show they used plain olive oil.

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From idea to execution, this was a very quick recipe. For starters, nothing gets cooked all that long (the water spends more time empty than it does ingredient'ed) and for lasters nothing gets cut all that much. It was tricky finding good sources for stewing a whole cabbage because most recipes call for either shredding or at least chopping smaller. And they do this for a reason. Its unwieldy trying to eat a whole half of cabbage, you never quite know when to start or where to start. Do you bite chunks out? Peel leaves? Spear it with other things? I dont know. I still dont. Im not a huge raw cabbage fan and it wasnt raw, but it wasnt transformed much either. Minimalist. 

This was a feast in the show and i bet that the freshness of the veggies were a factor, considering they were plucked fresh off the living rock guys. I wouldve killed to be able to brown the onions, roast the carrots, or maybe cube the potatoes (though the consistency was perfect for forking and dipping them in butter so! Bonuses.)

Oven roast bacon is a beloved treet for me. It seemed to absorb some of the vegetable broth and vice versa with the broth absorbing the oils from the bacon, which enhanced all the flavors. Maybe in the future itd be nice to try cooking the bacon a bit ahead, and then adding it to the pot while everythings boiling? Also adding a spritz of lemon juice to either/both is always nice!

I give this recipe a solid 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) for its simplicity. With modifications like shredding the cabbage and more seasonings, it could become an easy 10/10. hit that like and subscribe or kill me

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

Head of cabbage

4 carrots

3 russet potatoe

2 white onions

2 turnips

10 slices of thick slice bacon

Butter

Seasoned Rice vinegar

Stew Method:

Preheat your oven to 400f. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and place a baking rack on top (alternatively you can use a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper and no baking rack. but the baking rack lets the air circulate better and the grease drip off!)

Cook your bacon for about 18 minutes or until crisp. Flip halfway through.

Chop your carrots, peel and slice your potatos in half, and slice your onions into rings.

Get a large pot with a tight fitting lid, add water, salt, your carrots, your potato pieces, and your onions. Cover and heat to a low boil.

Cut the cabbage head in half down the middle. Once the pot is boiling, carefully add your cabbage to the pot and arrange the halves so theyre fully covered.

Cover and cook for about 13 minutes, the cabbage should be slightly crisp but have give to them. 

Remove from heat and laddle contents into a bowl, arrange some of your bacon along the sides so the fat and the broth mix :) salt and pepper to taste. And get a little saucer for butter so you can dip the potato pieces and/or coat the cabbage pieces.

Salad Method:

Peel your carrots and turnips. Cut off the ends of both. Julienne your carrots, and thinly slice your turnips.

Add your carrot greens (or your chosen leaf filler) to a bowl, then add your carrots and turnips.

Coat with seasoned rice vinegar, salt, and pepper. Thoroughly mix and enjoy :) 

[r3medialch8os]

devastating trobed quotes (a list)

does thinking of troy and abed ever make you inexplicably upset? well, it's all in the text! aside from troy and abed serving as frequent comedic buffers, they are given some weighty emotional scenes throughout community's run. just look at the meat of these lines!

we just won't get masking tape (what a beautiful, simplistic way to portray how troy is able to think around abed's systematic manner of viewing their friendship in its beginning stages as well as an illustration of how he deals with conflict)

i love you (pure honesty in a moment of intense distress)

i know (both a reference, because it's easy, and the truth)

you don't like people who tell you what to do, and i don't wanna be one of those people (one of the more heartbreaking things said between the two of them, with troy knowing exactly abed's qualms and negative experiences with being controlled, not wanting to add to it, and still having to fall into the pattern for the sake of keeping him safe, fearing he's risking their friendship by doing so)

you weren't supposed to think those things (you of all people, the person i trust most in this whole world)

this is going to be the last thing we ever do together, we can't stop (what the actual fuck)

i know you hate when people do this in movies (whispered quietly to abed by troy, without anyone else hearing, one of the most romantic, intimate lines in the whole show, argue with the wall)

you're gonna have to trust that you're gonna have to trust me (said to someone with severe trust issues, and for good reasons, just an incredible invocation of the bond they have)

for the first time in my long history of being locked inside things, i knew someone would come (as someone who was bullied in high school, this line hits so fucking hard, aren't we all waiting on this moment?)

you were out there somewhere, and you weren't looking for me? (devastating in a way where i simply cannot believe they throw words like these around casually)

the floor can't be lava forever, the game's gotta end (troy, perpetually insistent on indulging abed, on letting him do his thing, on enjoying his imagination, has to be the one to bring him back to reality this time, and even if he tries to do it as gentle as possible, it will never not rip my fucking heart out)

it's not a game for me troy. i'm seeing real lava because you're leaving, it's embarrassing. i don't wanna be crazy but i am crazy so i made a game that made you and everyone else see what i see. i don't want it to be there either, i swear. i want you to be able to leave but i don't think the lava goes away until you stop leaving (fuck it, i'm putting the whole thing, not a lot makes me cry but abed so clearly experiencing disillusion and trying to assuage troy while also communicating to him how hard it is to accept him leaving all with an air of embarrassment and hopelessness and desperation will do it for me, thank you very much)

i'm not leaving, okay? i promise. the floor's not lava now, just give me your hand (all i can say is that i bet it tore abed to pieces hearing these words)

i think i might be able to let troy go now (the way he says it too)

when i cloned you i had to patch some missing parts of your dna with genes from a homing pigeon. you may notice side effects like a compulsion to come back (in other words, i am in love with you and i never found the right time to say it)

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mino

Debut: Tetris

Tetris is all about blocks! You know that! Did you know that those blocks are called Tetriminos? Maybe you did! Geometrically, they are tetrominoes, shapes formed from four squares connected at the edges. "Tetrimino" is the official spelling of the ones used in Tetris specifically, which is a little confusing, but it's ok. Don't worry about it unless you are making your own game about tetrominoes! If you do that, be careful.

But what about the little blocks that make up the Tetrimino? These are geometrically called monominoes, but in Tetris, they are simply Minos! Humble little things. The game is named after Four, so what place does a measly One have?

If you ask me, they have all the place, because they are all over the place! There are no Tetriminos without Minos. Together, Minos are powerful, some of the most iconic and recognizable shape clusters in the world! Even in the form of a plush, The Tetris Company almost ALWAYS ensures that the individual Minos are visible. It is a part of the Tetriminos' designs at this point! The only exception I can think of is in situations unable to use their distinct colors, where other design factors are used to distinguish each. In this case, all but the I Tetrimino have their Minos visible, while I is just a solid color. Come on now, I. The most universally beloved Tetrimino, and you can't show some appreciation for the little guys who made you who you are? Sheesh!

While yes, Minos are a bit overlooked, they do indeed get the spotlight every once in a while! In game modes with items, you can expect that there will be one that turns all of your pieces into Minos, allowing you to instantly fill in gaps wherever you like. They are not particularly powerful, only able to clear one line at a time, but they ARE very convenient and easy to use!

Tetris Friends, my dearly beloved and departed Tetris Friends, uses Minos as the base for most of its avatars! I have already talked about these specifically, but I just want to point out these VERY default ones, each a piece of one of the classic Tetriminos, based on color... until the end, where we get what appears to be a Domesticated Mammal Mino! What are the implications of this? Have members of an intelligent species selectively bred the most docile of Minos together? Do Minos reproduce? Am I way off the mark, and is this Mino actually made of cookies and cream ice cream?

Finally, the reason I've been thinking of Minos in the first place! Here is a photo of the Tetris board game, with a single gray square in the Matrix. That's right! A Mino! In my opinion, this game is the most special Minos have ever felt. In this version, Tetriminos are dropped straight down into columns in the Matrix, and so they aren't as maneuverable as virtual ones. They can't be rotated while falling, and can't be slid into place to fill in any little notches.

This is where Minos come in! They are a sort of compensation for the lack of extra control, and can be placed to fill in extra space before dropping a Tetrimino. This is especially useful if you start with a Z or S block, since in this game, dropping one on a flat surface would leave a space no matter what! With a Mino, you can make a nice little ledge for your block to land neatly on.

This game's use of Minos really stood out to me! They're a major gameplay mechanic, they are explicitly named in the instruction manual, and, most importantly, they get their own PIECES. Physical, officially licensed, single Mino objects! They even get their very own color! A humble gray, not flashy like the rest, but distinct among all the others, and practical. A gray not to indicate a lack of interesting qualities, but instead, great potential!

There is no "official art" for Mino, so I just made the post's top image by editing some official Tetrimino art. Also, I have distinct memory of SOME official Tetris game, possibly Tetris Friends, referring to them as Tetrimonos. Does anyone else remember this? Please tell me if you do!

With that, we have reached the end of this post. But this is not the end of my fascination with Minos. In a way, it's only the beginning. In my Mino research, I have discovered some truly incredible things. Look forward to reading about them next week in Minos post part 2!

[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE | chapter eight!

warnings: VERY suggestive, kind of smut but not really? mentions of being drunk

You dont even know what time it is when you’re so drunk you can barely hold yourself up. Wonyoung is the most sober one, and by most sober you mean that she can’t really walk straight, but she has enough strength to pull Moka off the floor. You girls are giggling like maniacs, and by this point you cant even remember why you started laughing.

You press your back on the wall, watching as Wonyoung struggles to help your other friend. You would help too if your head wasnt spinning so much. So you stand there, looking around. Nicholas is fast asleep on the couch, meanwhile Jay and Sunghoon are nowhere to be found. Jungwon is on the platform, talking with his friends.

Your eyes rest on him for a few more seconds, just a few.. His blazer was somehow even more open now, you could see the line of his chest, even his abs. You take a deep breath, thinking about the way his hand was touching your thigh not too long ago. The way his lips were whispering in your ear, your leg on his. Fuck.

Without even realizing you’re already walking towards him, your hand on his shoulder and he immediately turns to look at you. “Hey pretty. Feeling tired?” You look at his friends, at it takes them a quick glance to understand that they need to go, leaving you and Jungwon alone. “Worse..”

You say softly, your hand slowly coming down to his arm. You still dont get too close to him, you can see the lower floor by the inside platform, but that means that people from there can see you too. Your eyes once again fall to his chest and he lets out a quiet chuckle, your hand moves on its own, touching his necklace before going just a bit down on his chest.

“I thought you weren’t interested in sleeping with me?” You raise your head to glance at him, your hand not moving from that place. “I wasn’t looking for it… but if the right time comes…” “is this the right time?” “is it not?” Jungwon has to beg his whole body to not just lean in and kiss you as if its the only thing he wanted. The way you’re looking at him, its driving him mad.

“Follow me.” You say, and he just nods, following you wherever you want, the only thing on his mind being how your lips would taste on his, how your soft skin would feel under his big hands, how much he needed to be inside you. He groans when you close the door of a random room, the lighting is so dark and blue, he could see you perfectly, but it was good enough to get him in the mood.

He doesnt think twice before pushing your back towards the wall, his body so close to yours, his hands on your waist, slowly going up and down to caress your sides. “You’ve been playing with me for days..” He whispers, biting your ear as he starts giving open mouthed kisses to your neck, you close your eyes, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

“Do you think its fair?” He bites your skin, his hands gripping even more on your hips, meanwhile yours unbutton his blazer completely. “Telling me not to get hard while you look like this..” His jacket falls on the floor with a loud thud, you open your eyes only to look at him, your hands going all around his upper body, his broad shoulders, toned chest, muscled arms.

You cant help but whine when he grabs your ass, you didnt think he could make you get so wet only by these touches. “You better shut that mouth and just kiss me before i go insane.” You dont even have to finish the sentence for his lips to be on yours, they taste even better than you would’ve thought, he’s not too rough, but he still gives you the feeling that he wants to devour you.

Your hands go between his hair, fingers wrapping with his locks as you bring him down to kiss you better, his tongue interlocking with yours, pants and groans leaving both of your mouths. You make out for a while, until your hear the announcement that the club is about to close. Fuck, is it already so late?

Jungwon pulls out of your lips, a string of saliva still keeping you attached. “Should we..?” “No.” You dont want to stop, you still have thirty minutes, you know you can make the best out of them. “We.. still got time..” You breathe out, your lips attacking his neck and chest, your hands going to his pants. He moans, and god, you didnt believe he could be so loud, but you have to admit its only turning you on even more.

The announcement goes on again and he stops your hands, you whine, too drunk to really understand how risky this is. He kisses your cheek before taking a step back. “I guess it wasnt the right time, pretty.” You watch him as he takes his blazer from the floor and puts it on, you pout, biting your bottom lip nervously.

He buttons up only one of the buttons and you pout even more, how can he be so hot even after rejecting you so casually? He takes your hand in his and brings you out of the room, your boots have been hurting like hell for hours now, you can barely walk down the stairs.

You finally reach your friends, who are standing in the parking lot, trying to figure out who should drive and who shouldn’t. “There you are!” Wonyoung pinches your cheek, and you close your eyes, too drunk and tired to even complain. “Y/n are you okay? You sure you can go home like that?” She then asks, holding your face in her hands, you just mumble.

Honestly, no. You cant go home like this, if the cameras were to catch you all stumbling around your house you’d be done for, and no other people can enter after midnight, so going back is not an option. “Its fine, she can stay with me.” Jungwon is the one to speak and you raise your head to look at him, only to then rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“Yeah, no she wont.” “Sunghoon-“ “We don’t know him!” You’ve never seen Sunghoon so mad. You know he cares for you a lot, but he never really acted like this. “I’ll go with Jungwon.” You manage to say, the latter puts his arm around your waist, not wanting you to fall by any chances.

Sunghoon is about to say something but Wonyoung, whos the only other one able to actually think, speaks. “It is better for her to go with him, Hoon your parents are still home and you dont want to repeat what happened to her last year, do you?” At that point the older guy just stays silent, the answer being obvious.

Wonyoung then looks at Jungwon with the coldest glance she can provide, her hands on your head. “I’ll tell her brother she’s sleeping at my house. You better not touch her, understood?” “Who do you guys take me for? I’m not touching her when she’s so drunk.” You pout even more, damn you really had hope for something to happen.

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TAGLIST @unhakki @firstclassjaylee @en-verse @mxxninthesky @seunghancore @erenmyman @jiamini @yoonzns @wonswondrland @50-husbands @leaderwonim @aloloveswonie @f3rraribabez @jwonistic @ribbioniki @kyanmeai @ilovejungwonandhaechan @nat123c @yjwsgf

[hedgehog-moss]

I was woken up last night by a sound like a machine gun being fired... loud clak-clak-clak that went on for like 10 seconds and I sat in bed completely bewildered because my brain couldn't come up with a plausible explanation for it. Then I remembered about the thunderstorm warning and thought oh shit, the greenhouse. It could possibly be the sound of thick glass cracking and breaking after a branch fell on it...?

I ran outside in my pyjamas and found the greenhouse intact—then thought oh shit, the chicken coop. Had no idea how a chicken coop could produce such a noise but I ran there anyway, and the coop was fine. It was a dry storm, lots and lots of wind but no rain or hail and I stood there uselessly for a moment, trying to think of other explanations with my 3am brain (not easy), then went to check on the llamas just in case, and I found all three of them standing with very alert ears, staring at a fallen tree—one of the four very tall wild cherries in their pasture.

So that was a relief ! From where I was I couldn't see if the tree had crashed on the fence and destroyed a chunk of it, it seemed possible but I decided that was a problem for tomorrow-me, and in any case it could have been worse. The fact that Pampe was still here boded well (for the integrity of the fence)—but seeing as the llamas were lined up in front of the tree like mourners paying their respects at a funeral, maybe she just felt that taking advantage of the tree's misfortune to immediately escape via the opening created by its prostrate body would be inappropriate.

First thing I saw this morning when I opened my bedroom window was the fallen tree, and I started feeling less optimistic because from afar things really didn't look promising for my poor fence.

(And from up close either)

But the tree missed the fence by just a few metres!

Its branches were tangled up with the other trees' branches and I think some of them slowed its fall until they broke one by one, which would explain the prolonged cracking noises, it wasn't just the trunk. But only 1 branch fell on the fence and it wasn't a large one, so there's no damage!

The God of Fences was on my side last night. :)

Consulted on whether he had been frightened by that loud sinister noise in the middle of the night, Pirlouit declined to comment, as he has more tragic problems right now. Our neighbour made hay recently which means Pirou now has several tonnes of hay staring at him and taunting him just outside his pen, out of reach. He is in a bad mood for reasons that have nothing to do with a stupid tree. It's like if you had to live right outside a pastry shop's window, except worse because you're a donkey (they already find life unfair as it is.)

I wonder if the wild cherry tree will soldier on...? Its roots + part of the trunk are still intact, and there are fallen trees in the forest with only 1 toe still in the ground who take their fate pretty philosophically and just start growing perpendicularly, like okay I guess we're sending our branches in that direction now. I'm going to leave it here and see if it rallies. I think it actually looks pretty breezy right now, it kind of looks like this:

Good luck, wild cherry! Let's see if you still have some life in you...

Oh and since we had a new obstacle, I tried to check if Pandolf remembered the word "Saute !" (Jump) and he does! We did it a bunch of times because I was trying to make him understand that I wanted 1 majestic jump and not his lazy 2-steps solution, but I didn't manage to explain it.

Maybe if I said "no :/" instead of "good great what a dog!!" he would think harder about how to improve his technique, but I'd rather fluff up his ego. Even that ridiculous failure at the end was met with a "yes amazing!!" response from me and he felt like an agility champion instead of a bumbling bag of fur. I'm going to try and get him to find his balance and walk on this part of the trunk, so I expect to see a lot more of his "argh, oops, wait" facial expression :)

[yyokkki]

Hiiii~ any headcannons on how we meet/court/rizz/woo malleus or kalim? Or even trey?

Hii!! You're my first writing request!! I'm sorry it took this long though, this trio in particular are hard to write for me,, 100000 character analyseseses later and I'm finally done TT Trey's is kinda mid cuz I'm actually so blank rn but I hope you don't mind!

---

Your mere existence is enough-

Jk jk, to be totally honest with you, even though I love the Malleus Otome Game allegations I don’t think he’s even considered you like that-

For one, you are first friend and rather than romance he’s more focused on the platonic bond you have.

It’ll take some time for him to see you as a romantic interest, most likely after he manages to befriend others at NRC.

Once that hurdle is passed, we can get to the wooing phase >]

He’s someone who has a very limited knowledge on human customs beyond what he’s learned in Biology class so you’d have to make a trip to the library to read up on fae courting rituals.

Offerings. Lots and lots of offerings. Ice cream, precious jewels, pretty rocks, basically anything you think is nice.

He’ll be quick to catch on.

I do think it’ll take some time for him to accept your feelings. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be in love and he can’t tell if his heartbeat speeding up whenever you’re around is because you’re his best friend or the love of his life.

That’s where peepaw Lilia comes in!

The self-proclaimed master of love himself!

He probably got impatient and decided to just speed things up by having the love talk with Malleus 50 years ahead of the schedule.

(Lilia is really cheering you two on. He’s grown on you as an individual and sees the genuine care you two have for each other.)

Malleus dates to marry, (It was straight up marriage before so thank Lilia) so he brings up the topic of royalty and its duties and dangers. 

He understands if you back out but if you stay? Prepare yourself, for when a Draconia falls, they never climb back out.

Now, making Kalim Al-Asim fall for you is no easy feat. It’s easy to have him like you, sure! But love?

He’s accepted that his future marriage will be arranged by his parents, and he plans to make the best out of it!

But if one day he discovered his smile got a tad brighter around you than anyone else?

Kalim is full of hope but he isn’t innocent or dumb. He knows how he feels and he knows what would happen if he were to act on said feelings. 

Your life would be in constant danger to the point that one day you might come to hate him and he dreaded that possibility.

So instead of running into your arms, he keeps his distance. It’s not obvious enough for you to notice but he keeps himself steadily behind a line.

To earn his love is to earn his trust.

Trust that you’d never make yourself unhappy just for him.

Trust that you won’t be burdened by his emotions.

Trust that you’d always appreciate his existence.

Trust that he doesn’t need to do anything grand to keep your love.

Trust that no matter what, you’d never be able to hate him.

Trey hates conflict. So much of his life is based around avoiding it.

But after Riddle’s incident he’s come to realise that letting something stew for too long will make the pot boil over.

Thus, someone who balances him out, knowing when to act to stop a problem in its tracks would be a godsend.

Someone who despite his ‘normalcy’ loves him for him. Not the completely average student, the kind and caring vice dormleader of Heartslabyul or the dental obsessed freak. Just Trey Clover. For all that he is.

Besides that, he’s always had a longing for domestic bliss. Icing wiped onto noses, matching aprons and the like.

If you were willing to live that out with him it would be all he needed.

While he does enjoy the occasional flirt, wooing him is as simple as that. Calling him out, loving every part of him and savouring the treats he’d made with you in mind.

Next thing you know, you’re receiving ulterior motive cupcakes every week!

[beomiracles]

「 CRIMINAL CONSCIENCE 」

SYNOPSIS moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder.

pairings: criminal!beomgyu x investigator!reader warnings for tape 01: mentions of drugging/drug use. oral (f, rec), marking.

GENERAL WARNINGS ─ this story contains dark themes, portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships as well as substance abuse. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

✎ NOTE, this story is partly told in flashbacks. beware of time stamps as present and past is mixed throughout the story.

the tape recordings

tape 01 ─ stay away from Choi Beomgyu

February 19th 2024 ─ present time 

You hated being late. You hated feeling rushed, the way things would always turn out half-assed. Yet you had turned off alarm after alarm, snoozing past at least five of them before finally pulling yourself out of bed with a groan. 

Though one glance at your phone has you rushing to your feet. There was no way you’d make it in time. Pulling on your shirt, looking everywhere for a pair of socks, toothbrush in your mouth. Having to redo your ponytail three times because your stubborn hair refused to lay flat and you’d run out of hair gel. 

One hand on the steering wheel and one applying lipstick messily all over your lips, you sway past the cars on the crowded roads. Parking was easy, you almost made it on the first try this time. 

Stumbling your way through the hallways of your office building, earning rather confused looks from your colleagues. Finally you make it to your office, your own private space. Breathing out a sigh of relief as the door closes behind you, you glance at the clock. Only five minutes late, that was 300 seconds and... 

“That’s not important now”, you sigh as you drag your feet over to your desk. There’s an unfamiliar file on top of your rather large pile. Frowning, you pick it up. Just as you’re about to open it and have a look your phone chimes. 

You bring the device to your ear, “you here yet?” Yeonjun's voice carries over the line. Rolling your eyes, you sit down on your desk, “of course, what do you honestly think of me”,  you snort. 

“Nevermind, don’t”, you then add with a groan. Your colleague chuckles on the other side of the phone. “You seen the file I left for you?”, he asks. You turn said file over in your free hand, “you left it?”. Yeonjun hums, “I need you down in the interrogation rooms in about fifteen, that okay?” 

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten”, you grin and Yeonjun scoffs, “i’ll bet”. You hang up and shove your phone in your back pocket before you make your way toward the interrogation rooms. 

The sound of your heels clacking along the stone floors fill the now empty hallway. Your ponytail swings in tune with your steps and you reapply your favorite red lipstick. Red had never been a color of your choice, but it had been someone else’s.

Another echo of footsteps join yours and soon a voice calls out, “miss y/l/n!”.  Turning around on the spot a smile finds its way to your lips, “Huening!”, you exclaim as the younger man approaches you. 

Huening had this boyish appearance that made him look youthful and innocent. No wonder so many of your female coworkers had a thing for him. Your own history of lovers, on the other hand, were far from anything and everything Hueningkai represented. 

The younger man gives you a shy smile as he hands you a mug of coffee, “you seemed to be in a rush earlier so I…”, he trails off as his gaze falls on the mug in his hand. “Well…”

“That’s very considerate of you, thank you”, you say as you take the cup from him. Bringing it up to your lips you smile, “how did you know I love lattes?”.  The tips of Huening’s ears turn pink, “I er…just y’know, went with my gut feeling…”. 

A small giggle escapes your lips, “never stop trusting it”, you say as you give his shoulder a pat. The younger man’s ears turn from pink to a flaming red as he nods. Clearing his throat he glances at the file in your hand. 

“New case?”, he asks and you nod. “I’m about to meet the suspect just now”, you say as you take a sip of the coffee. On your way you had gone through the pages briefly. To be honest you would need at least thirty minutes to just sit down and read through them. But time was a luxury you couldn’t afford today. 

Huening nods as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, “perhaps…when you’re done, we could get lunch together?”.  It was impossible for you to decline his sweet request, “I would love to”. Your younger colleague beams as he takes goodbye of you. 

Sipping on your coffee, your red lipstick stains the cup. Eyes scan the papers one last time as you approach the interrogation room. Yeonjun meets you by the door, “you got the files?” he asks and you nod. 

“Yes, though I’ve barely had time to go through them thoroughly”, you admit as you recall your rushed morning. Yeonjun shakes his head, “don’t sweat it”. He brings out a file of his own as he reads a few main points to you. 

“23, male, brought in yesterday night at 1.22am”. Yeonjun flips the paper, “he’s under investigation for murder and attempted arson”. You nod along as you sip on your coffee, arson and murder wasn’t an unusual combination. 

“Any witnesses?” you ask and Yeonjun shakes his head, “none have come forward”. You frown, “how is he linked to the crime?”. Your colleague puts his files down as he turns to look at you, “victim’s DNA on him”. 

Your eyebrows raise in evident surprise, “really?”. Should no other evidence or witnesses surface the man would be as good as guilty already. Yeonjun nods as he unlocks the door for you, “good luck, I’m on the other side of the glass at all times”, he reassures and you give him a thankful smile as you step inside. 

Your heels echo inside the small and dark room as you approach the table in the middle of it. Not looking up from your files you slide down on the chair opposite the man. 

“You are being investigated for the murder of Park Baekhyun as well as the attempted arson against his property. You have the right to remain silent and or request for an attorney, keep in mind that anything you say can be used against you in court”, you say as you place your files down on the table. 

The man in front of you looks up and your eyes widen. His dark eyes pierce yours in such a familiar way that you almost have a hard time controlling your breathing. Lips curling into a smirk as he looks at you.

But that can't be him, it’s impossible, yet he looked exactly like… 

“Beomgyu?” 

Your mouth betrays you before your mind has the chance to stop it. Beomgyu’s smirk only widens as it exposes his shiny teeth, the same teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. 

He lets out a short laugh, “dollface, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”. 

You want to yell, shout, cry, possibly even throw your coffee in his face. But you do nothing. The smirk on his face doesn’t falter as Beomgyu tilts his head to the side, studying you, as if trying to calculate your next move, you knew he could. 

Though before he has the chance to, the door behind you clicks open. Yeonjun enters with a frown plastered on his normally expressionless and professional face.

“You know this guy?”, he questions and you nod without taking your eyes off Beomgyu who’s smirk only widens. “Know? That’d be an understatement”. Yeonjun gives Beomgyu a short glance before he beckons you to follow him out. 

As the doors to the interrogation room closes behind the two of you, Yeonjun turns to you with a sigh. “What on earth is going on?”. You chew on your bottom lip hesitantly, “well, I sort of…we sort of….” “were something?”. You nod, “yes, something like that”. 

“It was a long time ago though”, you quickly add in a rushed tone and Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. “Exactly how long is long ago?”, he questions. 

You nervously scratch at your forearm as your gaze wanders, anywhere but Yeonjun’s eyes. “I haven’t seen him in ten months..”, your voice is hushed, shameful even. And you were ashamed, ashamed of having any sort of connection to a man like that. 

The look your colleague gave you might as well have had you resigning on the spot. “Jesus christ”, he mumbles as he runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll take you off the case, we’ll find someone and─” 

“No!” 

The words leave your lips before you even have the chance to consider them. Why? You had no clue, but you knew that you wanted─ no, needed this case. Maybe it was only to satisfy your own curiosity or perhaps it was to gain some sort of closure. Either way you knew that this case could not go to someone else. It had to be you.

Straightening your back, you glance up at Yeonjun as your arms fall to your sides. “I’m confident that I can do this”, you state as you hold his gaze. The older man gives you a look of disbelief but your persistence eventually makes him cave as he sighs. 

“Alright, but if I notice that things are getting out of hand, you’re out”. 

You smile, “thank you”. Yeonjun nods, “well then, if you’re ready then go on back inside”. 

The silence as the doors close behind you to the interrogation room is deafening. Glancing down at the table you notice your coffee cup missing. Beomgyu turns said cup around in his hands as he studies it closely. 

“You like your coffee black”, he states as you sit down opposite him. Why would he remember that? Why did your stomach jump at the fact that he did remember such a detail? You push it aside as you look up to meet his gaze, “things change”, you say as reorganize the files in front of you. 

Beomgyu grins, “not you”. He leans forward as his cuffed hands rest on the table in front of him, “you look just the same”, he mumbles as he studies your face closer. You refuse to lean back, that would mean that you were scared, that you would let him win. And you wouldn’t, not this time. 

“Well luckily we’re not here to talk about me”, you give him a small smile and watch as he leans back in his chair with a small grunt. 

“Last night”, you begin as you glance down at the files once more, “you were at present at Park Baekhyun’s property between the hours of 10pm and 1am, what were you doing there?”. 

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek as he grins, “cleanin’ up a mess”. You raise an eyebrow as you question him further, “what kind of mess?”. He smirks, “well certainly not the ones we used to make”. You swallow as you try to dismiss anything he says. 

“What kind of mess was my question”, you repeat and Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “One of my employees messed up, he’s new, I don’t blame him”. His eyes flicker toward the glass window on one of the walls, certainly aware of the fact that Yeonjun was on the other side, even though he couldn’t see him. 

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds as his eyes shift back toward you with a mischievous glint. “But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he smirks as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. 

“I went easy on you the first time”. 

He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Beomgyu to this day. 

March 28th 2022 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. Everyone will be there!”, your friend Kayla whines as she tugs at your arm. You shake your head, “no, everyone you know will be there”. Finally pulling yourself from her grasp you flop back down on your bed. “It’ll just be awkward to bring me along”, you mutter. 

Though your friend won’t have it. “Well if you’re not going then I’m not either”. The bed squeaks as she takes place beside you. The two of you stare up at the ceiling of your small apartment in silence for about thirty seconds before Kayla starts once again. 

“Pleaseeeeee”, she whines as she rolls over on her side to look at you. Giving you her best pout and puppy eyes you finally give in. “Fine, but you better not leave my side”. 

The first thing Kayla did was leave your side. Running off to wrap her arms around that no-good boyfriend of hers. You swallowed a gag. The club was hot, smelled like alcohol and sex, and was absolutely crowded. 

You instantly regretted coming here. You knew no one, and without your only friend, your introverted self could count on a lonely night. Quietly making your way over to the bar, you order yourself a drink in an attempt to drown your regret. 

As you sip on your drink, your eyes scan the dance floor after your friend. Though all you could make out were half naked bodies pressed against one another. You found your eyes wandering over to the small booths by the sides of the main floor. They were secluded, but far from private. 

Then your eyes fell on him. He wasn’t your type, at least you thought he wasn’t. Maybe it was the liquor, or the overwhelming sense of loneliness you felt that night. But when your eyes locked with his, you swear the two of you could’ve been the only people in the room. 

Sprawled out on the sofa to one of the booths, two of the prettiest girls draped over him, drink in his hand, mid conversation with one of the guys next to him, yet his eyes remained on yours. 

One of the girls plays with his long dark hair as she whispers into his ear. He smirks as he brings his drink to his lips, over the rim of the glass you catch the subtle wink he gives you. Your heart skipped a beat. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to getting hit on. Or even just subtly flirted with, but this, this felt different. This man was far from anything you had ever laid your eyes on, you felt intoxicated but you weren’t so sure that it was because of your drink. No, there was something about him. 

So you did the only reasonable thing, you winked back. 

The man’s smirk only widened as his free hand moved up the inner thigh of the other girl. She squirmed under his touch, emitting small giggles as she leaned in to kiss at his neck. He seemed to pay her little mind, eyes still trained on yours. 

No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him. He was so… “Don’t even think about it”, Kayla mutters as she appears next to you, causing you to jump in your seat. 

“What?” you question as you finally pull your gaze from the man and to your supposed friend. She rolls her eyes as she motions towards the man, “him”. “Don’t even think about starting anything with that man”. 

You frown, “I wasn’t…”─ “oh no but you were”, she cuts you off as she orders a drink of her own. “That man is no good”, she continues as she leans against the bar, “only uses girls for his own pleasure, you’ll get hurt”. 

You scoff, “what if I only seek pleasure”. Kayla frowns as she turns to look at you, “then I suggest you seek it elsewhere, he is no good”. Receiving her drink she takes a large swig and you set your own empty glass down. 

“How do you know about him?” Kayla had never even mentioned the man to you before and you were curious to know her history with him. Your friend shakes her head, “used to be close to this one girl, then one night she’s off with him”. 

Kayla sighs as she takes another sip of her drink, “next time I see her is two weeks later, drugged out of her mind”. Your eyes widened, Kayla had never even mentioned anything like this to you, perhaps you could understand why. 

She points her drink toward the man again. His hands roam the bodies of the girls who cling to his sides as they whisper sweet nothings into his ears. “That, is what that man will do to you”, she states as she downs the last of her drink. “Besides”, she shrugs, “I have never seen him with the same woman twice”. 

Setting her glass down, Kayla pulls herself from the bar, “I gotta get back to Jim”, she gives your cheek a quick peck, “call me when you’re ready to go home, yeah?”. She scurries off onto the dance floor before you have the chance to reply. 

Sighing, you return your attention to the bar as you order yourself another round. Whilst waiting on your drink you feel a hand on your shoulder. Startled, you turn your head to be met by an unfamiliar man. He gives you a polite smile as he introduces himself, “Hwan” .

You can’t help but smile back, “Y/n”, you say and when he asks to join you, you comply. Hwan takes the seat next to yours, “how come I haven’t seen you before, you new in town?”, he asks as he orders himself a drink. 

You shake your head, “no, just not a fan of clubs I suppose..”. The man nods, “I see, then I must’ve been real lucky to catch you here”, he grins and you giggle, “indeed”. 

“You here with a friend or boyfriend?”. “Just a friend, she sort of forced me along”, you say as you sip on your drink. “So no boyfriend then?”, he asks, leaning slightly closer. 

Just as you’re about to tell him no, a tall figure appears behind him. His presence makes the hair on the back of your head stand up. Hwan, inevitably notices the man as he turns around in his seat with a frown. 

“Can I help─”, he begins but is quickly cut short. 

“Scurry off”, the man who you’d locked eyes with previously says. Hwan glances between you and the man in a confused manner. When you don’t say anything he finally gets up as he gives you a small bow. 

The man from earlier clicks his tongue as he takes Hwan’s seat, quickly calling the bartender over, “I’ll have what she’s having”. 

A small silence falls over the two of you and you nervously grip your glass. What was going on? You had certainly seen the same man with two girls all over him not less than ten minutes ago. Why was he here? With you?

Sneaking a glance at him you find him already looking at you. His eyes study your face in an almost calculating way. Though he doesn’t say anything, the smirk that etches its way onto his face gives away that he likes what he sees. 

As he gets his drink, the metal rings on his fingers make a clinking sound against the glass. He takes a sip as he continues to study your face. You shift in your seat, feeling rather uncomfortable under his intense gaze. 

“Choi Beomgyu”, he then says. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name, a piece of you, to the man your friend had previously warned you about. But this man intrigued you, almost like a forbidden fruit that you know you shouldn’t eat. Yet you can’t help but wonder, could one bite be so bad? 

“Y/l/n, y/n”, you say as you set your glass down. Beomgyu’s smirk widens. “You come here often?”, he asks and you shake your head, “rarely”.  He hums against the rim of the glass, “you didn’t really strike me as the type anyway”. 

You can’t help but frown at his answer, “then what type is that?”. Beomgyu raises an eyebrow as he glances toward the dance floor, you follow his gaze. “Her”, he mutters, “and her, her, her and her”. 

You take in the appearance of the multiple half naked girls, pushing anything and everything they could onto the nearest stranger. Beomgyu’s eyes snap back to yours, under the blues and purple of the club, they glint in an almost starlike way. 

“But not you”, he states. 

“Not me”, you agree as you finish your drink. You look at him as you brush a strand of hair from your face, “then perhaps, you’re striding outside of your usual target group”. 

Beomgyu tilts his head, “I’m not opposed to trying new things”.  

Maybe it was the liquor, or the fact that Kayla had already warned you about him, or maybe it was the way his eyes drugged you stronger than any other substance could. But you found yourself wanting more, if he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, then who says you weren’t either?

And perhaps that was why you had let him lead you upstairs. Let him close the door behind you, sealing you away from the world. Let him push you back against the soft mattress of the foreign bed. 

And maybe, just maybe that was why you had let his hands wander. The same way they did those girls not even an hour earlier. The cold metal of his rings digging into your soft thighs as he pushes them apart. 

When his lips found your neck, they were soft. You had little expectations of the man currently between your legs, however, his lips being soft, had not been one of them. And he’s gentle, a lot more than you had expected. He takes his time exploring you, as if you were an exotic and foreign artifact. Something that he had never before come across. 

His large hand cups your face as he exhales, letting his warm breath fan your face. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down before he pushes it inside. Your tongue immediately wraps around it as your eyes lock with his. 

“You’re so pretty”, he murmurs as his free hand brushes through your hair. “Pretty like a doll”,  his eyes wander down your body. “Made out of porcelain, untainted and perfect”, he whispers as he pulls his thumb from your mouth. 

His now saliva coated thumb presses against your clit in a menacing way as you squirm beneath him. “And such a pretty pussy too”, he groans as he leans down to ghost his lips over where you need him the most. 

His tongue drags between your folds, drawing moans and whines from you as you grip onto the bed sheets. As his tongue dwells deeper, Beomgyu uses his hands to roughly massage and grope your thighs, making sure to leave you blue and purple. 

Occasionally inhaling before diving right back at your cunt, his nose stimulating your clit just enough to have you see stars but never a shooting one. Beomgyu groans between your legs at the sheer taste of you. 

“Need more”, he grunts as he pulls you closer to his face. “You’ll give me more, won’t you dollface?” 

You nod furiously as your thighs close around his head. Finishing all over his face with a small cry as you grip the bed sheets enough to cause ripping. 

As your orgasm fades and all that is left are your trembling legs, Beomgyu finally pulls himself from your cunt. Nose, lips and chin coated in all of you. His dark eyes find yours as he smirks, “I like you dollface”, he states. 

“I’ll keep you”. 

And that was, exactly, how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu.

A/N ─ EEEK, it's finally out!!! please please please drop some feedback I would love to hear your opinions >.< also this Beomgyu is such a 180 degree turn from pretty princess Beomgyu so it's been a little challenging to write but I am loving it so far!!

✎...taglist @beomtasticc @beomies-world @leeminhosairfryer @baekberrie @fairyofyeongyu @lunathewritingcat @archoive @baemgyu @yunjinsbbg @velvetmoonlght @luvsyuqii @seokqt

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ★ all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[vagabond-umlaut]

meet you where the sky meets the earth

to love is to listen to your heart, not your brain. to dream whilst in love, is to make your brain listen to your heart.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; former teacher x former student [gojo is six yrs older than reader]; bittersweet fluff; you're so in love w satoru, it shd hurt- but it doesn't because you've grown numb to the ache; one-sided feelings [are they really?]; few mentions of food; gojo calls you 'cookie'; this is way too tender even for me, istg; 1.5k wc

▸ belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna! 😊

▸ the header is from pinterest, the dividers are by @benkeibear, the characters used here aren't mine. pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this. hope y'all enjoy reading this ❤️❤️

the first time you think of marrying gojo, you're only twenty years old.

hardly the age to be dreaming of wedding bells at, right?

yeah, right. that's very, very right— still, your heart is your heart, just how your brain is your brain, the former easily swaying the latter by a few skipped beats— and you find your cheeks growing warm, laughs stumbling past your lips as you place the box of cornflakes into your shopping cart.

gojo sputters from beside you, eyes comically wide behind his shades as they dart from you to the elderly woman before.

you take a second to compose yourself before answering the ask that created this mess in the first place, a polite smile lining your face, "oh, no– not at all, ma'am! we're not married. i'm just an old friend helping him with the groceries, haha."

"oh," that's the only thing the woman says in reaction, kind smile now a tiny frown before it reappears. and she apologises, "i'm sorry, dears. just thought you two to be newlyweds from how giddy and loving you seemed to each other... time i went for an eye check-up, yes?"

"hey, please don't be sorry..." you start to say, but before you can get any further, the woman has already walked away with her shoppping basket.

you fall silent.

the same way the man next to you too has grown quiet, an awkward silence taking up the foot between you both. until you break it with a strained chuckle.

"we were acting giddy and loving to each other, eh?"

"were we?" comes the contemplative question to your comment. you look up to find gojo looking at you, the blue of his eyes weirdly bright in the dim lights of the supermarket as he repeats, "were we, cookie?"

yes. no. you don't really know—

yes, 'cause you know you love him.

not since forever, no, but close enough to it: your once-fascination for the supposed mortal deity of the jujutsu world, the mitochondrion on which the cellular structure of the society banks to survive; that grew into something made of wonder, respect and fondness, as you slowly came to know not only the icon but also the man behind it; that grew into something so profound, nestling deep within your existence– so much so that you feel the earth shifting on its axis everytime he calls you or grins at you or just looks in your direction—

no, 'cause you know you aren't loved back.

not the way you wish to be... not that you blame gojo for that, though!

you know he is way too busy to be thinking of such topics– what with being the strongest sorcerer ever, the head of the one-man gojo clan, the teacher to the first-years at tokyo high, the legal guardian– but in fact, the father figure to the two kids, 'gumi and 'miki– or maybe, just maybe, he is busy, alright, but not too busy— gojo simply doesn't see you that way; he sees you to be nothing but his former student— one he knows he can rely on to help with his children, or the groceries, or a variety of other menial daily tasks he can just hire help for—

you don't know.

yeah... you really, really don't know– and by now, you think you don't even want to know anymore. it's easy, it's safe, it's nice to remain not knowing. the word 'yes' comes with too many dreams– the word 'no' serves the perfect haven to nightmares.

the three words "i don't know" bear no such burden on their back– an untroubled answer you decide to offer, decide to escape using for the time being— until a slight knock on the head interrupts you, followed by an entertained set of chortles.

you peer up to find gojo beaming down at you, his eyes crinkled and cheeks dimpled. something twists in the middle of your chest, but it isn't painful; it's grounding. pleasant, even.

"it's too easy to get you worried, y'know? you're unbelievably easy to manipulate, heh."

"oh, am i now?" you retort, eyes narrowing into a cross glare– only to be betrayed by the fond smile grazing your lips not even a beat later. the man hums, grin simmering down to a knowing smile.

"mmhm," he says with that musical sway to his tone that never fails to make your fingers tingle, "you should have seen your face when i asked you the question– so pale and stiff– almost as if i was asking you to leave then and there, hearing that granny's comments—"

"you would have asked me to, if they were true– wouldn't you?"

gojo's smile vanishes in the blink of an eye. and you think the hand he has stretched out to the shelves of biscuits might fall too– but it does not, and you see him take a packet of your favourite bourbon biscuits followed by a packet of the digestives you've been forcing him to eat, and place them into the cart.

he checks the shopping list in your hand before he looks back at you.

before he smiles back at you: so soft, so solemn, so un-satoru— you instantly regret interrupting him with such a question.

but you do know how it is, don't you? what with a thudding heart and a thinking brain...

the handle of the cart digs deep indents into your palm as you press the weight of your worries into the cool metal and lean towards your companion on this grocery run, the same way a moth flies towards a flame, towards its doom–

"don't you ever dream of falling in love, gojo-san?" you let your voice drop to a murmur, audible only to you and the object of your desires, the subject of your worries, "do you not dream of a happily ever after with your 'one'– do you, gojo-san?"

"no," the response to your words comes in the very same instant. the man's shades slip a touch down the bridge of his nose as he pins his sharp gaze on you– though it can do nothing to hide the mild tremor in his grin from you when he says, "and i don't plan on dreaming ever. dreaming is only for fools with too much time to spare– do i look like a fool with too much time to spare, cookie?"

no. not at all. you don't. you look the farthest from it, in fact— is what you know you should say, and just drop the matter. for now. forever—

but you don't... just don't.

retorting instead, still a murmur but with the faint lick of a fire now, "and what do you suggest should be done to those fools, gojo-san? punished severely for their grievous crime of dreaming, hm?"

"oh, don't be too harsh," he tuts with a breezy chuckle, "what people do is honestly their business; one i've got no interest in interfering in— but..." his grin twists into something wry, a change you find tough to tear your gaze away from, "i don't think i would give such folks the time of my day– it's simply not worth it to talk with those whose feet are not on the solid ground, floating around meaninglessly in air–"

"why are you talking with me then?"

interrupted, gojo blinks. once, and twice, then thrice.

you watch your face crumple in the dark tint of his shades, withering and cracking in the dull light and stale air of this stupid supermarket; but definitely not as stupid as you:

messing things up when they're perfectly fine and alright, only 'cause you do not, rather cannot, keep your mouth shut, no matter what– all your inhibitions let gone of as your heart gains control over your brain and your stupid damned mouth—

you feel a tiny knock on your forehead, the second time this evening, followed by strands of hair being gently brushed away; too careful for your breath to not get stuck in your chest. you peer up at the man in front, teeth lightly gnawing the inside of your lower lip.

gojo's features shift into something between fond and worried– you just hope you aren't misreading him right now– the man tucks those strands of hair behind the shell of your ear.

his fingers still right above your jaw, touching yet not really touching, features finally, finally, settling into a smile– "maybe because i enjoy talking with you, cookie, no matter how foolish you are."

some people say, marriage is a holy act, a sacred institution, in and of itself— connecting hearts, binding souls– cementing the promises of staying together forever... whilst few see marriage to be meaningless— paltry affair of papers and signatures and people, none bearing any significance, 'cause nothing can, not when it comes to the matters of the hearts, neither in proving nor in disproving them–

no matter what people think, you think you will be okay, irrespective of whether you marry gojo or not, irrespective of whether gojo loves you or not– provided– and this is a weird, still important 'provided'—

you and he end up shopping together in the supermarket, feeling and seeming so happy and comfortable with each other— others mistake you for a pair of newlyweds, blissfully deep in love.

tysm to my dearest andy [@andysdrafts], mimi [@avatarofstars] & dilay [@roseqzpd] for constantly motivating me while i was writing this. ilysm my darlings 😘😘😘

masterlist

[24kmar]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 (T. DUNCAN, A. DONALDSON, P. ZWEIG)

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

Apart of my fic "born stunna" and p2 to my fic "why you do the things you do"

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Art Donaldson x fem! Reader, patrick zweig x fem! Reader, tashi duncan x fem! Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ MDNI,smut (edging, choking, bondage, being called a brat), angst, language, age gap (early 30's tashi, pat, and art early 20's reader) manipulative reader (wolf in sheeps clothing), sugar! Baby reader!, cheating, comfort sex with patrick and reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: y/n goes home after hanging out with patrick, to which tashi and art scold her. What happens when patrick decides he cant get enough and goes to her match the next day. Arising conflict. Enjoy!! 🎀🩷

THANK YOUU TO MY GIRL @doll-0f-flesh FOR HELPING ME OUT IMMENSELY

Y/n learned from a very young age that she could get whatever she wanted. Growing up the golden girl with daddies money. All she need to do was flash her million dollar smile and she was in. That didnt mean she didnt work hard. No, she worked harder. Why use a minimum of your abilites to get something when you can get anything.

She was smart, ambitious, power hungry, always wanting more. She was good at using things to her advantage. A rich scholar and outstanding tennis player. Tennis was almost everything. Playing since 13, getting a scholarship to stanford at 17, going pro by 19, getting signed to NIKE a year later, and being coached by one of the best tennis players by 21.

Tashi and art have been coaching her for 2 years. Her now being 23. The word failure wasnt in her dictionary. It wasnt win or lose, just win. And tashi loved that. Tashi also loved her. And so did art. They both found themselves falling in love with her 3 months into coaching. To which they decided to go on a limb and make her theirs.

"Where the fuck were you" tashi spits out, walking towards y/n as she puts her keys on the counter.

"Taking a drive, i told you this before i left." Y/n rolls her eyes. "Dont roll your fucking eyes at me." Tashi says putting her finger in y/n's face. "When you said 'drive'" tashi airquotes "i didnt think you meant come home two fucking hours later! You have a fucking match tomorrow y/n!" tashi yells

Turning her head, y/n see's art leaning against the doorway, arms crossed with a dissapointed look on his face.

"Were you with patrick?" Art speaks up, walking towards her. Now its tashi and art infront of her. By the she gives him, the answers clear. "You fuck him?" He asks, walking behind her. Moving her hair out of the way and placing slow kisses on her neck. He already knew she did. He just asked to mess with her. "Course you did" tashi scoffs, gripping y/n's jaw.

"You know whats gonna happen now right?" Tashi asks, recieving a nod from y/n.

"Tashi please" y/n pleads, arms tied above her head. Tashi's strap hitting all the right places.

"Why'd you fuck him huh?" Tashi ask gripping her neck, though not enough to restrict any airflow. To be met with incoherent mumbles. Squeezing harder she asks again "fucking answer me" she gritts out, using her other hand to slap y/n's cheek. Not hard, just a tap.

"Mmm, cus y'were being mean" y/n babbles "bein too hard on me with tennis." She moans, getting closer to her climax.

"so you're telling me you did this cause you were being a whiny brat?" Tashi scoffs, pulling out. Ruining her orgasm for the second time tonight.

Letting out a pitiful whine y/n begs "tashi please, i just wanna cum" tears starting to brim. Turning her head to try another tactic. Locking eyes with art as he sits in a chair in the corner of the room. "Art" she whines, hoping he'll help tashi go easy on her.

"Nuh uh brat, hes not gonna help you" tashi spits, lining up her fake cock with y/ns entrance, slaming into her. Standing up, art walks over to the bed. Sitting behind y/n, pulling her to rest her back against his chest. Trying to lessen the blow, kissing her neck, fingers groping her front softly. The softness of his touch contrasting with the roughness of tashis.

It was gonna be a long night.

𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝒀

Stepping out of the car, y/ns nerves are all over the place. She knows she cant lose. If she did, they would blame it on patrick and what happend yesterday. She would never hear the end of it.

Now here she is, stepping out of the locker room. Stretching and getting ready for the match to start. She doesnt see art or tash. But she knows they see her. She feels a weird presence. Like someones watching her. Turning to look behind her she sees...oh shit. Patrick.

Locking eyes with her he send i small wave and smile. Why the fuck was he here? Did he want tashi and art to kill him?

She couldnt let him throw her off her game. Not win or lose, just win.

The match is almost over, y/n dominating the court. Walking her opponent like a dog.

"oh fuck no" tashi scoffs

"What? What happened?" Art asks, worried something happened with you.

"Patricks here" tashi shakes her head in disbelief "the fucking nerve on him".

Watching him get up to go to the bar, they stand up to follow. If he thought he was just gonna get away with this, he was sorely mistaken.

"Patrick" art calls out, him and tashi walking towards pat. "Why the fuck are you here" tashi narrows her eyes.

"Woah guys, dont get your panties in a twist" patrick chuckles "just here to support my girl" he smiles.

Oh no the fuck he didnt.

"you mean OUR girl" tashi spits "what on gods green fucking earth made you think you could go for her. None the less, come here."

"we already told you yesterday, dont ever try coming for her again. Are you trying to get us mad?" Art says

"Dont-" patrick begins, getting cut off by y/n

"Where the fuck have you guys been" y/n speaks, her words laced with venom "you missed my whole fucking game"

"We're handling something" tashi dismisses her

"Handling something, or being petty"

"Dont act like you didnt start this" tashi turns to y/n

"If i upset you then talk to me about it, dont scold me like a fucking child and pick a fight with patrick"

"Guys-" art tries to calm them down

"If you didnt act like one i wouldnt have to" tashi retorts

"you know what, fuck this." Y/n scoffs, reaching into her tennis bag "i hope you're happy to hear that i fucking won" she says, shoving her medal into tashis hands. "Dont even bother taking me home, im calling an uber" y/n turns around and walks away.

Tashi and art felt like shit. The whole car ride home being completely silent. Tashi staring at the medal and art driving, thoughts swarming his head. When they got home, y/n was no where to be found. Her keys and car gone , everything else still there.

They called out her name, looking everywhere. They didnt think the fight couldve had affected her to the point where she just went MIA. Calling and texting her countless times. Only to be met with the call going straight to voicemail. Meaning one of two things, they were blocked or her phone was on airplane mode. Both bad scenarios since it meant she didnt want anything to do with them.

The only one who knew where she was, was patrick. She didnt go far, just to some hotel. He was the only person she answered the phone to. She knew he wasnt the one who started it, since he explained what happend. Now here she was, crying into the bed as he rubbed her back soothingly.

He had never seen her cry, unless it was tears of pleasure or joy. Tears of pleasure when he made her feel good. And tears of joy when she won. It broke his heart.

Making her sit up, he cupped her face and spoke "what you thinking about pretty girl" he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Dont wanna talk about it" she sighs "can you just...hold me?" Without skipping a beat he pulled her into a hug and sooths her. This had been the most intimate moment theyve had.

"Just wanna forget" she sniffled

Moving to kiss her neck, he whispers "can i help you forget?"

Sighing, she nodded. She needed this, and he needed her to know that he was always there. Whether art and tashi wanted him to be or not.

When tashi said patrick had no dreams she was wrong, soso wrong. Because he did have a dream. And it was y/n. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

She was arts star, tashis winner, and patricks dream.

His dream, his fantasy, his happily ever after.

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Five

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, implied SA, Tamlin and Amarantha are mentioned, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s off on a mission, so you train with Cassian. Upon returning, the Spymaster doesn’t like seeing you with his brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four

The next morning, you were up early but no one was there for breakfast with you. And instead of Azriel, Cassian was in the training ring. “Oh… is Azriel not here today?” You asked.

“He’s got some spying to do, so I’ll keep up with your training.” He said.

Of course Azriel wouldn’t want to keep training you along with his spying. He had so many more important things to do than babysit an amateur Shadowsinger. And it was very apparent from the training session yesterday that you didn’t know nearly as much as him.

“You ready? Or do you need to stare off into the distance for a little longer?” Cassian said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m ready, Commander.” You teased, getting in the position he started with the warm ups.

Cassian was more brutal than Azriel was, enough so that you were thinking Azriel was going easy on you. The prick. Cass made you sit in squats for longer, balance with your wings stretched out or tucked in more. It was all you could do by the end of it to not fall down the stairs to the House.

“Az said to give you these.” Cassian said and handed you a basket, your muscles groaning at the extra weight. “Said something about an owing you a massage when he got back.”

Your eyes widened and face flushed before you heard Cassian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re almost as bad as him.” He said and laughed. “For spies, you sure don’t hold back when you get embarrassed.” Cass said and winked at you before going to the dining room.

You set the basket in your room, opting to take a bath first before you went to the dining room to dig into the roast that was waiting for you. Then, you went to the library to start on your research into the Cauldron.

You never saw Gwyn. Though Rhys told you that the new priestesses normally took a while to adjust before being out of their dorms. What happened to her just yesterday made your stomach turn… and you couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been for her to wake up today in a new place. You’d have to ask Clotho how she was doing when you got the chance.

You didn’t learn anything new about the Cauldron, but you brought more books up to the personal library to read more.

You still wondered how Feyre was doing with Tamlin. You remember when Rhys told you the story of what Tamlin’s family did to Rhys’s mother and sister. And how Tamlin himself had killed Rhys’s father. Hearing about the rage that Tamlin held that day… you’d hope it had changed. You’d hoped that Feyre was happy with him, and that he would treat her well. Still, the thought of Feyre with him was unsettling to you. You couldn’t figure it out, and your shadows seemed to be just as disturbed by it whenever it came to your mind.

As you read into the night, waiting to see if you heard Azriel come back, you couldn’t help as your mind wander to how lucky you were that you ended up here after Amarantha died. How you found friends that seemed to care about you, and a High Lord that didn’t just want to use you for his own bidding, but wanted you around because he trusted you. You could get used to calling Velaris, in all its beauty, your home. And these new friends your family.

Azriel didn’t come back to the House of Wind for two weeks. Cassian had taken up your training, and you were already learning how to handle a sword (with the wooden practice ones) when Azriel watched you both from the steps.

He had been searching for the other parts of the Cauldron, ordering his spies to find out anything they could about what Hybern planned to do with it. And he only figured out that Hybern had Jurian’s eye and finger bone. Someone had snuck it off of Amarantha’s body before Tamlin killed her. He still couldn’t find out how, or who.

Seeing you work with Cassian strained something in him. A desire to be around you, or the jealousy that Cass was training you and he wasn’t. Azriel couldn’t tell what it was. Either way, he was almost proud to see you doing so well. What took most young Illyrian’s years to master, you had seem to do it in two weeks. All while taking flying lessons with Cassian as well. Cass told him that you were doing great with all of it. Better than any male he’s trained, actually. And you took it in stride too. Doing everything that Cassian threw at you. He even loaded a pack on your chest two days ago and had you fly up and down the mountain for two hours. You were almost ready to throw the pack at him by the end of it. But you knew it was to build up your strength. If you were going to be carrying Illyrian blades and a bow, you would need it.

Azriel knew you could do good. From the moment you agreed to train, he knew you had the motivation in you to do it. Whether it be from hate of what your family did to you, or from dedication to not let it happen again, he knew you would do it. He wanted to be the one to train you. He wanted to see that dedication every day. He hadn't seen an Illyrian learn so fast in a long time, and he knew it was a testament to an underlying power that brewed within you. That his shadows whispered to him about.

And yet, he took the first mission Rhys offered. There was something about you that pulled his attention every time you were in the room. And he couldn’t place it. His shadows wouldn’t tell him anything. And your few shadows that danced around his ankles up to his hands and neck whenever he was close to you drove him crazy. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you but also didn’t want to get too close. He couldn’t handle getting close and you pushing him away. Or going for another male like Rhys or Cass. Like Mor had done when she chose Cassian over him. And then never acknowledged him more than a close friend. Family. Nothing like he wanted. He may have given up on her a long time ago, but sometimes it still stung.

So he took the mission to keep his distance. No matter the tug he felt when he was around you. He fought it. And kept his thoughts and emotions about you to himself.

“Azriel!” He heard your voice say, followed by a yelp when Cassian hit your stomach with the butt of the sword.

“Really, Cass?” You growled and nudged him away before jogging over to Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been?” You asked, catching your breath.

“We’re not done!” Cassian yelled at you, but you simply stared at Azriel, waiting for an answer.

All Azriel could do was trail his eyes up the leathers you were wearing. The way they clung to your curves. The way they were already filled out much more than they were that first training day. Your hair was in a braid, but little wisps if it were out, clinging to your forehead with sweat.

“Azriel?” You asked again, not shifting under his stare like you had before. Training like this with Cassian had made you much more confident. Like you were before Amarantha came and tore your life apart. You still didn’t want to admit how much those 50 years effected you. Even if they were still recent. You wanted to put them in the past and not think about them any more that you were required. And luckily, no one had asked you much after the first day of telling them your story.

Cassian bounded over, patted Azriel on the shoulder in a way of greeting, and then picked you up over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” You yelled and clenched your fists. “Put me down,” you ground out.

“No chance, you are still training. And no pretty boy is going to distract you. Got it?” He asked and you grumbled. “Got it?” He asked again.

“Yes! Cauldron… Now put me down before I start clawing your wings.” You said firmly. He set you down back in the middle of the training ring and handed you the sword you discarded.

“What’s the number one rule I taught you about your weapon?” He asked.

“The pointy end goes away from you?” You remarked, earning a swipe of his own sword, which you blocked. “Don’t drop it in the middle of a fight without a purpose.” You said and knocked his sword back.

Azriel watched as you bantered with Cassian almost as seamlessly as you fought. At one point, you had Cassian so speechless and stunned that you were able to knock his sword from his hand. It was at that point that Cassian knocked you from your feet, your sword clattering much farther away from you than his. Cass always did want to be the one to win the battle.

It was everything Azriel could do to not go and help you out. Or coach you on how to get out from under him. Especially since Cassian was much larger than you. Not to mention better trained.

He must have been feeling generous, or you got the drop on him (probably the former) because you were able to use his weight against him and flip the two of you over so you were on top. Straddling his hips, your hands mere inches from the tips of his wings. Panting.

“Rhys wants us in the dining room for lunch.” Azriel called out, knowing that Rhys would wait. And if he really wanted you all to meet, he could speak mind-to-mind easily. But Azriel couldn’t stand to see you in that position with Cassian. And he couldn’t stop himself for imagining him under you instead. He quickly turned on his heel and vanished with his shadows back to his room.

“Just when it was getting fun.” You joked as you stood up and held out a hand for Cassian, who let out a booming laugh.

“Keep saying things like that and Az might slice me to bloody ribbons.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem too interested in me.” You said as you grabbed a glass of water and downed it. “And if he is, he sure has a weird way of showing it. He ignored me the whole first month, trained me one day, and then disappeared on a two week mission. And he’s still ignoring me.” You muttered and downed another glass of water.

“Hmm… let’s show him what he’s missing, then,” Cass said and slung an arm around your shoulder, avoiding your wings. Your shadows curled away slightly from his touch. Not in a bad way, but in a way that didn’t happen with Azriel. They always curled around him. Even if he wasn’t touching you, but in the same room. You always tacked it up to him being a Shadowsinger himself, and maybe it was comforting for your shadows to have someone else to cling to. You still barely knew how the things worked. Even after having them around for a hundred years.

You knew how to hide in them, how to listen and talk to them, how to winnow with them. But not much else. It was still a hassle most of the time when you wanted to control them. So if a few of your shadows wanted a more experienced singer to cling to, you were more than willing to let them. For a little while. You still liked your shadows. If you ever had to go without them, you wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t have the comforting feel of them whirling your ankles and wings. Throughout your hair.

“Come out with us tonight.” Cassian said once you made it down the stairs.

You looked up at his towering form and rose your eyebrows. “Where?” You asked. Even the first month of you here, you didn’t go out with them. You didn’t go into the city much either, barely even visited the town home. You didn’t want to impose on it just yet. And it was too many people who would be watching your every move. Like they did when you worked for her. So you stayed in the House. And you liked it. Plus, you started to see Gywn around the library, not speaking to anyone, but at least she was out of her dorm.

“To Rita’s. I know Mor would love it. She’s been complaining that you didn’t come last week.” He said and you smiled a bit. You quite liked the female. She was bright and full of energy. And she didn’t take shit from the boys. And barely took it from Amren, who still scared you enough to not meet her eye.

“I don’t have much to wear.” You said, Cassian cringing as you both heard a yelp from down the stairs to the dining room.

“Did I hear that we’re going shopping?” Mor said and bounded over to the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on her heels.

“I didn’t say that.” You teased as you stepped down beside her.

“Oh, please? I’ll help you pick out the perfect outfit.” She said and nudged you. You winced a bit, still sore from the training. Your braid was still a mess. But you didn’t care, you were starving and just wanted to eat. Even if you looked ridiculous.

As if reading your thoughts, your shadows swirled around your head, either covering or smoothing your hair, you couldn’t tell. Either way, you silently thanked them.

“Hmm.. fine. But I would prefer to go when it’s not too crowded…” you said and she gave you a knowing look. As if she too knew what it was like to want to hide away. You weren’t sure how she would ever feel like that. You figured she got more energy from being around people, new people, than anyone else. Where as for you… well you learned to like your solitude. Probably from the years you spent locked in your cabin while your family went to train. And then the years following that was spent in a village with no more than 50 inhabitants.

“So you’ll come out with us tonight?” Cassian asked as you entered the dining room with them.

Shrugging again, you answered, “Sure. Though if people start asking me to do party tricks with my shadows, I’m leaving.” You said and rolled your shoulders back, tucking in your wings.

“Trust us, they won’t. Not when Az is the only Shadowsinger they knew and he once stabbed someone for looking at him the wrong way.” Mor joked and you furrowed your eyebrows. Even though Azriel was a little cold to you, you could tell he was kind. Especially with the way this family acted with him.

“He was 38 and we were recovering from the war, remember?” Rhys added from his spot at the table. “And that was in Hewn. Everyone in Hewn would be stabbed if they looked at Az the way that male did.” He mentioned and then leaned back. He didn’t have his wings out today, so you figured this was a business lunch more than a formal one. They had all mainly been away, or you’d been I’m your room burying your nose in the books on the Cauldron. Or they had been meeting in the town home. Definitely not around you.

Soon you were all settled, Azriel appearing before the meal was served and sitting next to Rhys and Amren. Cassian was on your right, and Mor on your left. That left the other three across from you. It felt like someone was missing from the table, but as you counted around, you knew that was everyone.

After you had all ate a couple bites (Amren pushing her food around like always), Rhys looked up, setting his utensils down. “Cassian, I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys said. “See how the army is coming along. And if the females are being trained properly.” He said, then looked at you. “And I would prefer if you went along.” He said.

“Just with Cassian? Don’t you need to introduce me as emissary?” You asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Cass is the commander of my armies. If he says they’re to listen to you, they will.” Rhys said and you rose your eyebrows. You knew Illyrians. And you knew that wasn’t true. You also knew that Rhys knew it too. But you weren’t going to push, so you nodded.

“How long do you want me there?” Cassian asked.

“Two weeks, and then you can come back in time for the Solstice.” He said. “We’ll spend it in the townhome.”

“You think Devlon is ready for another Shadowsinger?” Azriel piped in.

“The question is, do you think Devlon is ready for the first female Shadowsinger?” Cassian asked.

You hummed. “I think you all need to be asking if Devlon is ready for me. I’m not just a Shadowsinger, you know.” You said, crossing your arms. “And I think the answer is no. Devlon used to be a friend of my father’s. He very might well faint when he recognizes me to be the daughter of Rechard Vash.” You stated and smirked.

“I like how you think, girl.” Amren said and leaned back in her chair, her arm draped over the arm of it. “I say Devlon has whatever is coming to him from her,” she said as she looked at Rhys.

He only chuckled as he went back to eating. “Was that it?” You asked and leaned forward. “Or should I leave so you can discuss what Azriel learned on that mission?” You asked.

None of them stiffened at your tone, or the implication that they didn’t trust you.

“I merely wanted to finish my food,” Rhys said with an easy smile. “But if you’re eager to learn about what the Spymaster learned, go ahead Az.” He said and took another bite of the roast.

“I didn’t learn anything useful,” Azriel said. “Well, other than that there are two pieces of the Cauldron missing and I still have no clue where the third one is. Though, it’s probably in a temple.” He said. “Hopefully here. If it’s in another Court… that’ll be harder to detect.” He finished.

“I never thought you’d be one to be down on yourself,” you said, taking a bite of vegetables. “Sounds like you learned quite a lot.”

Once again, he ignored you and looked at Rhys. “Any chance I can go back to Sangravagh and examine it again?” He asked and Rhys waved his hand. “Go where you need to, but I still have one more thing to ask of you when we’re done with lunch.” He said.

As much as you wanted to slump into your chair, you stayed still as you ate. You didn’t know what you did wrong to have Azriel act so indifferent towards you. Of all the Inner Circle, you thought you would bond with him the most. Being a Shadowsinger… it wasn’t easy. It was rare and the looks that you got. The burdens that you had to carry. You figured only he would understand. But he didn’t even try to speak to you.

And it continued into the night, after you went shopping with Mor. She even had Rhys’s in-house tailor fix all the clothing so your wings would fit seamlessly around them. All in time to go to Rita’s.

A/N: This is a fun little chapter with some of Az’s pov - a little longer than the rest. When the IC + our reader goes to Rita's in the next chapter... I think you'll enjoy it!!

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Purpose

Alastor x Reader // word count 3.4k

You can have you soul back, if you wish. But really…why would you even want something like that?

Tags/warnings: yandere, manipulation, power imbalance, angsty as hell, Alastor owns reader’s soul, reference to Alastor destroying other souls, shadows being far too tangible for comfort

A/N: This was supposed to be a short, simple little thing in my notes app. It did not stay that way for long. I swear I’ll write for someone else after this one (this might be a lie, haven’t decided yet)

You can’t believe that you asked. It was a sort of trance that brought you here, that forced your steps down the hallway, that raised your fist to his bedroom door - and it was your entire fist that knocked, not merely the knuckles of your hand. Like you were threatening to break the wood from its hinges if he didn’t answer. But he wasn’t angry when he let you inside. Only bemused. And even now that you’ve done it, now that you’ve somehow managed to get out the words that have been churning in your mind for months…his demeanor has barely shifted at all. Although of course, it could be an act. It’s still hard for you to tell.

“Is that truly what you desire, my dear?” Alastor’s smile, which you expected to fade somewhat, or at least twitch at the corners in a telltale sign of annoyance, is just as broad as it’s ever been. He towers over you, his hands folded behind his back. “Think carefully, now. It’s already rare for me to allow someone to escape - unheard of, in fact. But taking someone back would be even less likely, so if there’s any chance at all ”-

“I’m sure.” You set your jaw, and refuse to look down, even as the glow in his eyes becomes almost too bright to bear. Even as something stirs in the swamp behind him, threatening to draw your gaze away. “I want my soul. I’ll give you anything to have it back. I’ll”-

“No need to elaborate, darling.” He sounds calm, and just as surprising, he doesn’t sound like he’s lying. “I assure you, I have no interest in any offer you might have had planned. If you want your soul, you can have it.” 

You freeze, your mouth still ajar. It takes you a moment before you can speak again. “Really?”

“Really.” His head tilts slowly as you continue to process his words. “Does that surprise you?”

“Yes.” You’re deeply confused, in fact. You were expecting to have to haggle, if not to beg. You were certainly expecting him to be upset. It shouldn’t - it can’t - be this easy. 

“I give you my word. If you wish to leave, I’ll let you.” He pauses. “However. ”

This is a trick. It has to be. Your eyes dart around the room, as if a map to his true intentions might be lying somewhere nearby.

“It would be irresponsible of me not to help you consider your options. I don’t want you to do anything you might regret. So…tell me.” He sighs, and simply stares for a moment before brushing the tips of two fingers up the line of your jaw, from your ear to just below your mouth. “ If you were to go…” He taps the pads of his fingers gently against your cheek, and lets his hand fall to his side. “What, exactly, would you have to gain from such a thing?”

You blink, still reeling from his feather-light touch. This is not a question you expected to answer, and you stay quiet for a moment too long.

He leans over you, and lowers his face to your ear, as if he’s about to tell you a secret. “I’ll tell you what I think. I don’t think you’ll like it very much…but then again, people never enjoy hearing the truth.” There’s a buzz of static, he disappears and reappears behind you, and you’re left too disoriented to respond. “I think you’d be quite miserable, if you went through with this impulsive little idea of yours.” 

It wasn’t impulsive. Saying it out loud was, without a doubt. But the idea itself has been there for a very long time. 

“Would you like to know why I think that?” 

“No.” You’re not sure, really, whether you’re responding to his words, or to the hand that has landed on your waist. “You’re wrong.” His grip tightens, tugging slightly on the fabric of your shirt, but there it is again - that odd, detached state of mind that you fall into when you need to do something, and quickly, before you think about it and lose your resolve. “I’ll be miserable if I stay. I’ve already been miserable for a long fucking time.” You uncurl the fist you didn’t realize you had clenched, bring your hand to his wrist, and tug it sharply away from your waist. You barely even register your surprise when he lets this happen. 

He reappears in front of you, and waits silently for you to continue. 

“I didn’t think it would be like this.” Your eyes wander to the desk against the wall, to the ledger that you know contains the list of souls under his command. He’s allowed you to witness what happens to the souls - to the people - that displease him, and on more than one occasion, he’s enlisted your help in cleaning up the mess. You always got the impression that he didn’t particularly need your assistance. That it was more about the fun of watching you squirm. “You’re not who I thought you were.”

“How interesting.” He leans forward, eyes gleaming. “I must be a better judge of character than you, then. Because you have never once surprised me.” Without warning, he takes your hand, tugs you close enough to put his other hand on the small of your back, and half-drags you to his desk chair, which he kicks around and deposits you into. 

You glare up at him, hands braced tightly against the armrests, but he only pulls his hands behind his back, and sighs.

“Well, my dear. I would have merely asked you to sit down - as one should do for someone who’s about to receive unfortunate news - but it seems that you’re in a rather oppositional mood. So.” He gestures in your direction, and something slithers over your waist, binding you to the back of his chair. 

Before this all began, you would have struggled. Now, you barely glance down. “Fuck you.”

“Shall I bind your tongue as well, darling?” A dark coil, made of the same unnaturally smooth, unfathomably black material as the first, curls up from behind you and begins to inch its way up your neck. “Or perhaps do away with it altogether?”

You press your lips together, and shake your head. 

“Hmm…if you’re sure.” The second coil retreats back into the shadows, and Alastor looks down at you with an expression far too appreciative for your comfort. “I do love a captive audience,” he muses. “But what I said before does still stand. If, at the end of this little talk, you still wish to leave, I’ll happily release you.” He gestures broadly with an open palm, as if presenting you with some fabulous gift, then quickly flips his hand and points at you, his finger perfectly still in midair. “But first things first. I asked you a question some time ago, and you would do well to answer it.” He stands perfectly straight, and once again interlocks his hands behind his back. “Take some time to gather your thoughts, if you must. I’m not going anywhere.”

You bite hard into the inside of your lip, and swallow your bloody saliva down with all the things you’d like to scream at him. Instead, you avert your eyes, and quietly repeat the question you’d been unable to answer the first time around. “What do I have to gain?”

“That is what I asked, my dear.” The tendril around your waist tightens slightly, as if to force an answer out of you.

“What do I have to lose? ” You keep your eyes fixed on the floor, and force the deepest breath you can manage in and out of your lungs. The air feels heavy and humid, and smells of long-rotten vegetation - or perhaps a half-destroyed carcass, decaying somewhere in the bayou. “When I did what I did…when I gave you my soul…I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought that if I did it, I’d feel safe enough, or - I don’t know - good enough, to make a life here. But I don’t have one outside of you.” You suck in a sharp breath, all too aware of how stilted your sentences are becoming as they pass over the growing lump in your throat. “I live here because of you. And I barely leave because of you. I don’t spend time with anyone else, because I never know when you’re going to show up, and I don’t want to make friends and then watch them get roped into whatever shit you make me do next - and I can’t sleep, because - because you’ve woken me up before, and when you do that”-

You trail off completely as you remember the last time he did this to you, the images in your head far too clear for something that happened in the dark, when you were only half awake: Hand over your face in your dream, falling to touch your shoulder with just enough force to wake you and send you bolting upright. Rise and shine, darling. Smile somehow more vivid than the red eyes glowing above it, spreading wide with a manic delight that you knew was real, too real, and far too close. I’m going to pay someone a visit. They’re not aware of it yet, but I’m afraid it just couldn’t wait. Shadow, on the wall, one that shouldn’t have existed in such a dark room, blacker than you thought anything could ever be. It’s going to be a night to remember, my dear. I wouldn’t have you miss it for the world.  

You don’t want to picture what happened next. In your mind, you skip to when it was all over. When he took your hand, still shaking from the things you’d been forced to witness, and held it tight as he scratched that poor soul’s name out of his ledger. When he set down his pen, which was still dripping a dark red liquid that barely resembled ink at all, and began to turn the pages - you knew what he was looking for long before he found your name, written in impeccable cursive, glowing slightly as he guided you to touch it. I think it looks quite lovely in my hand. Whether he was talking about his handwriting, or about your face, which he’d reached up to touch in that moment, you do not wish to know. Don’t you agree?

Now, you shake your head, as if amending the answer you’d given him that night. You don’t like how you’ve conditioned yourself to say the things he wants to hear. To believe them when you say them. “I knew I’d have to do some things for you. But…” You swallow hard, because you can’t imagine he’ll have any sympathy for you if you cry, and you don’t want to find out. “I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t think that it would become my entire purpose.”

“Hmm.” His sigh is light and airy, with none of the weight that your words carried. When he does speak, the condescension is unmistakable. “Tell me, then.” He crouches down in front of you, leans forward, and rests his forearms on your thighs; his elbow digs hard into your leg as he raises his hand and props his face up on his fist. His grin still doesn’t waver, and his eyes appear wider from this angle, shining with something that is, perhaps, meant to resemble sympathy. “If you chose to leave…what would your purpose be then?” He tilts his head, until it’s his cheek resting against his fist, and waits.

And you are silent. Because somehow, in all your fantasies of escaping, you never managed to get to that part. The part where you lived your life, with no one to guide you but yourself.

You don’t know what you would do. But surely, surely, it would be better than this. 

He lowers his voice, and finally, you see his smile recede slightly. It becomes softer, and the glow in his eyes fades somewhat, and it’s all so unexpected that you don’t even question whether it’s real. “I know a lost soul when I see one, darling.” With his other hand, he lazily traces a path up and down your thigh. It would be almost soothing, you think, if it wasn’t him. “There’s a reason I wanted you. And a reason I keep you so close.” He sighs, and you can smell his breath, the hint of whiskey that doesn’t come close to masking the familiar rancid scent beneath. But there’s something sweet there, too. That’s new. “I think,” he murmurs, “that you have more to lose now than you ever did before.”

You try to tell yourself that you don’t want him to keep talking. That you want him to disappear now, and for good. But memories of your old life - your old after life, before he took over - are beginning to press their way forward. They make your stomach churn in a different way than any of his cruelty. 

“There’s also a reason - the same reason, in a way - that you were so easy to win over.” He opens his hand, and lets his cheek rest against his palm. There’s nothing dangerous about the way he’s looking at you now, or at least, nothing outwardly menacing, and you find yourself thinking about the night he approached you. Before anything about him seemed dangerous at all. When his appearance in your life seemed like a glorious stroke of luck.

“It was only easy because I didn’t know anything.” You’re disoriented, looking down at him, and it takes away whatever resolve you had left; your voice comes out quiet and hollow. “I hadn’t been here long. Everything about this place scared me. And I was alone…” You weren’t with anyone that night, but that’s not what you mean. Your chest seems to tighten as you remember those early days. The paranoia that haunted your every step, convincing you that something awful was about to step out of the shadows at any moment. The panic of not knowing how you fit into the world around you, and being sure that you would never truly know. The pure hopelessness of being consigned, for eternity, to the one place where no one in the world has ever wanted to go, and knowing that you could blame no one but yourself.

Alastor raises his head, slowly, and lets his hand drop gently against your thigh. “Well, my dear.” His palm touches first, and his fingers fall lightly, their touch barely perceptible at all until he presses them down in an almost-reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone anymore, are you?” 

“No." You barely even remembered how it felt, until this moment. To be lost. To have nothing, not even the nightmares of the present, to justify your existence. You didn’t think about it.

You didn’t let yourself think about it. Because thinking about it would mean -

“That’s right. You’ll never be alone again, if you don’t wish to be.”

It’s fake, this comfort. Always has been. But you can’t ignore it, now - the way you want to believe it. If it wasn’t from him, you’d have nothing to comfort you at all. You find your mind wandering to your name in his hand, glowing in his book, and wonder if anyone else will ever think of you enough to write it down.

“As for fear… ” His voice is so soft, now, that you feel the need to quiet your breathing. To inhale slowly, between words, and exhale carefully, lest he pause at a hitch in your breath. “What do you fear most, at this moment?” 

Again, you are silent. This time, it’s not because you don’t have an answer. It’s because the one you have seems far too dangerous to say out loud. 

If you leave, and things are exactly how they were before…or worse…

“Uncertainty is a terrible thing, isn’t it?” He pauses, and glances to the side for a moment before speaking, his gaze snapping back into place so quickly that you barely catch its shift. “I’ll gladly admit to planting the thought in your head. My having done so doesn’t make the idea any less real.”

The tendril binding you to your chair disappears. It takes you a moment to notice the absence of pressure on your abdomen. Even then, you do not move. You keep yourself in place, sitting perfectly straight, because you don’t know what will happen if you don’t. 

You stay exactly where you are, even as he rises to his feet and turns to the side, leaving you a clear path to the door. You watch, motionless, as an arm made of shadow extends along the wall and wraps its long, distorted fingers over the doorknob. 

“Walk away from me now, if you wish. You have my word that your soul will depart along with the rest of you.” The door creaks open, in time with the parting of his teeth, and the appearance of his staff in his hand. Its head pulses with a faint green light. You stare into it, and wonder if it’s your soul that you see flickering in its midst. 

“And if I don’t?” Out of the corner of your eye, you see the gap between the door and its frame narrow slightly. And again, slightly more.

“To be entirely honest… I can’t imagine that I’ll ever feel inclined to give you another chance.” The light on his staff grows larger and brighter, and shifts towards you, as if daring you to pull it out. “On the other hand…” He leans forward, and tilts his head, his spine contorting with the sideways motion until his mouth is directly beside your ear. “If you do leave, that door will close behind you. And it will never open for you again.”

The green light ebbs, just a bit, and you think about the first time you saw it. That night was cold, and damp, the kind of weather that eats away at you slowly, sinking its way under your clothes and skin bit by bit, until you can’t even remember a time when you were warm. The kind of weather that seems to suck the color out from around you, leaving you stranded in a world of gray and black and muddy, desolate brown. The place inside you where you imagine your soul once resided felt heavy, just as waterlogged as every other bit of you. 

And it seemed to lighten the moment you shook his hand. The moment you traded…

It was more than your soul, you think. It was the things you feared. The things you despised in the world, and yourself. They’re all gone, now, because now, there is only one face that makes you feel these things. It’s better like this, you think. 

It’s soon to be out of your hands, either way.

The door eases shut, and you close your eyes, because you do not want to see the green light fade. It’s better not to see. Better to pretend that it was never there at all.

“Well done, my dear.” The filter has dropped from his voice. It was there, distorting his every word, until now. But why say anything about that? You keep your eyes closed, and sit still as he traces the back of his hand down the side of your face. Thinking about flinching away, but doing nothing at all.

“Stay for as long as you’d like.” He sounds different, still. Not sincere, perhaps, but closer to it than he was before. “You’ve gone through quite a lot tonight. I expect it will take you some time to feel like yourself again.” He takes a step back, but remains close, and you don’t have to look to know how intently he’s watching.

There is not much left to watch. You slide your hands down from the armrest, and clasp them together, eyes still shut tight. Head down. If you stayed in this room until you felt like yourself, you think, you’d never leave.

Then again - if you wanted to feel like yourself, you would already have left.

[forays-into-fiction]

The Box

You had been noticing some of your things going missing. At first it had been easy to dismiss, a hair tie here, an almost empty bottle of lotion there. But more recently it had been items harder to ignore, photos of treasured memories, items of clothing, so on and so forth. But you had no idea where they could be disappearing to, why would anyone even want that stuff, it’s not like it was valuable or anything.

 Minors DNI

Contains: Perv!Eddie/Perv!Reader, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining/Lusting, Masturbation, Sex Without a Condom, Dirty Talk, Slight Degradation, Mentions Creepy Behaviour That Goes Excused Very Quickly

Eddie escorts you to the front door of his trailer, holding the door open for you before following through. “Hey, I’m just gonna grab a shower real quick. You can make yourself comfortable in my room, you know the drill.”

You nod following him through to his bedroom, dropping your bag to the floor and sitting cross-legged on his bed while he pulls things out of his wardrobe.

“Only be a minute, you can pick out a video if you want. They’re just there.” He nods over to his desk and you follow his line of sight.

“Cool, will do.” You reply as he moves towards the bathroom.

Eddie strips off his clothes hurriedly, he’s been half-hard since the moment you stepped into his van, the way your little skirt rode up exposing more of your thighs to him distractingly. He’d been glancing over repeatedly the whole ride, practically white-knuckling the steering wheel. He doesn’t think you noticed… hopes you didn’t notice.

Stepping into the harsh spray of the shower and pulling the curtain closed behind him he wastes no time in gripping his cock, stroking it to full attention. He thinks about those soft, supple thighs as his hand glides over his length with a muted groan. He realises there’s not much distance between the two of you, only the thin wall separating you, you just in the next room over… in his bed.

He bites the inside of his cheek stifling his moans. This is so wrong, this is so wrong he thinks to himself, but if it’s so wrong why does it feel sooo good another little voice counters. His head falls forward resting against the wet tile in front of him, the strong metallic taste of iron fills his mouth.

He’s close, so close he can feel it fast approaching. He imagines you in those little black, lacy panties he’d found. He imagines flipping up the hem of your skirt and pulling them to the side and cumming all over them, your thighs, the way it would drip over your folds. Imagines you spending the rest of the day like that covered in his cum and it tips him over the edge, splattering the wall in thick, hot, ropey strands. It washes away quickly and he rushes to finish cleaning off.

There’s a handful of tapes sitting on his desk, as you approach you can see Alien, Body Double, 9 ½ Weeks and Sixteen Candles. You know which one he would expect you to pick, he would’ve rented it just for your benefit too. Instead of going for the obvious you opt for Alien, not recognising the other two. Secretly you love horror movies, but you tend to overplay your reactions, giving you an excuse to squeeze yourself into him, burying your face into his shoulder, pressing your tits against his chest as your nipples pebble against him. The jump scares do get you sometimes, but never bad enough to warrant the reaction you give. He’s never complained before, but when you do pick out a scary movie, he always gives a concerned, ‘Are you sure? You know how scared you get with these movies.’ To which you can’t help but reply with some variation of, ‘Yeah, but its ok, I’ve got my big strong Dungeon Master to protect me and I know how much you love them, so…’

 Video in hand you move back to the bed, listening to the sound of the water running, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the blanket beneath you. You grow bored rather quickly, tossing the video aside you pull your backpack up into your lap looking for something to occupy yourself. You don’t find much, you grab a notebook and pen doodling on it for a bit when you’re satisfied with the little drawing you’ve done you tear the page out and stick it to the wall behind his bed next to the banner that hangs there.

After returning your notebook to your bag, you pull out your chapstick freshening your lips, but as you go to put the cap back on it slips from your grip tumbling beneath the bed. You sigh sliding to your knees, reaching an arm under his bed blindly. Your hand bumps into a wooden box, you can’t help yourself, curiosity overwhelms you. Pulling it out staring down at it, you recognise it as the project Eddie had worked on in shop class, noting the little love heart you’d carved into the side.

 You pop the lid off and gasp at the sight before you, it’s a veritable treasure trove of your belongings. Things you thought you’d never see again, photos, hair ties, a pair of black, lacy panties, a mostly empty bottle of your lotion, a travel sized version of your perfume. You look closer, some of these photos are ones you’ve never even seen, taken without your awareness. 

The sound of the shower cutting off breaks you out of your stupor and you’re scrambling to shove the lid back on, flinging the box back under the bed. Leaping back onto the bed trying to look innocent, chest heaving with ragged breaths you try to calm yourself as Eddie begins opening the door. He walks in pants slung low on his hips, as he towels off his long curls you leer at his bare chest eyes traveling down to the sparse trail of hair that peeks out over the top of his waistband. He tosses the towel onto the bed and shakes his head like a dog before moving to his wardrobe picking out a shirt and pulling it over his head. 

He drops onto the bed slinging an arm around you, “So what d’ya want to watch tonight?”

He notices as you stiffen against him, flushing bright red, “Hey, what’s the matter? You, ok?” He asks softly.

You leap out of his embrace, backing away from the bed, stuttering, “Uhhh… I gotta… I gotta go.”

You bolt out of the room hightailing it through the front door.

He sits there for a moment, frozen in shock before chasing after you.

“Hey, where are you going?” He calls after you. “What’s wrong?”

“I just gotta go Eds.” You shout back over your shoulder.

“But I drove you here.” He shouts back.

“That’s ok, I’ll walk. I could use the exercise. Bye.”

He doesn’t know what to do, he wants to go after you, wants to insist on at least letting him drive you home. Trying to think what could have happened that set you off like that… it couldn’t be… no, there was no way. You hadn’t heard him surely, he’d done his best to keep quiet, bit the inside of his cheek ‘til he drew blood for Christ’s sakes… unless something slipped out without him realising, a moan, some other offensive sound, your name. No, no that couldn’t be it… but what else could it be. He spends the rest of the night agonising over what could have happened to send you running like that.

 You on the other hand spent the rest of your night with your fingers buried between your thighs, writhing around on your bed, biting on your lip to keep from moaning too loud. Your mind conjuring thoughts of Eddie getting himself off to you, your panties wrapped around his hard cock, your photos spread out over his bed, him cumming in thick, hot spurts over his stained mattress… is that how he would do it… or maybe he’d stuff your panties in his mouth like a makeshift gag, muffling his cries as he fists his cock desperately, finishing all over one of your photos, you’d definitely seen some residue on a few of them.

You spend the next few days avoiding him like the plague, you don’t know how you’re ever going to look him in the eye again or how to behave around him now. Not a day goes by that you don’t think about the contents of ‘the box’, every waking moment, every fitful dream… you can’t escape it. Soon even dirtier thoughts fill your mind, thoughts of adding to his collection. Posing for some naughty photos, leaving him your dirty underwear, a fresh bottle of lotion, on and on the thoughts race through your mind. You wonder how he’d react if suddenly one day there was something new there, something he didn’t put there.

 And then one night you do take those photos you’d been thinking about. Picking out a set of lingerie that you think he’d like, you get yourself all worked up snapping photos along the way. Pulling your panties to the side swirling your fingers around in your slick before plunging them in. Playing to the camera as best as you can. You orgasm three times that night, leaving your panties a soaking mess, you bundle them up with the polaroids you’d taken and shove them in the drawer beside your bed.      

 This is the longest the two have you gone without speaking since you met, he’d been trying to reach out to you this whole time. Calling your house, dropping by unannounced, trying to catch you at school, all to no avail. You’d managed to avoid him, but not without difficulty. He’d even sent one of his little Hellfire Club members with a message, begging you to just talk to him, but you refuse.

However, Eddie manages to corner you in the halls after school one day, dragging you into an empty classroom.

He stands in the doorway blocking your exit, you avoid looking at him, “Hey, what the fuck is going on? Why won’t you look at me? Why are you avoiding me?” He hisses angrily grasping your chin tightly forcing your face towards him.

You keep your eyes downcast as he continues, his tone softening slightly, “Seriously, y/n what’s wrong?”

You shake your head in his grip, refusing to answer.

“Please. Please tell me what’s wrong… I-I can’t…I can’t lose you.” He implores, words catching in his throat.

It tugs at your heartstrings and you finally look up at him, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, his tone desperate, “Was it something I did?”

You hesitate, yes and no, it was also something you did, but you can’t even begin to explain it to him.

“Please, you’re my best friend. Please, don’t do this.” He begs.

You feel yourself tearing up too, you can’t bear to think that you’re hurting him, “Eddie, please just let it go. If you let it go maybe we can go back to normal.”

“That’s all I want… to go back to how it was before. But I gotta know was it something I did, something that we could have avoided?”

“No.” It’s a half-truth, but it’ll do.

“Are you sure?” He presses.

“I’m sure. We can move on pretend nothing ever happened…”

“If that’s what you want. Would you… would you like to come over tonight, maybe watch that movie we were supposed to…?”

 “Tonight?” You ask in a strained voice.

“I mean it doesn’t have to be tonight… whenever… whenever you’re free is fine.”

“No, uh tonight is fine I just…um, maybe I could swing past my house first?”

“Yeah, sure we can do that-”

“No, no I mean just me, I’ll uh drive over myself.”

“Yeah, that’s cool too… I gotta pick up some videos again anyway.” he breaks into an uneasy grin.

“Could I… could I get a hug… it’s just, it’s been so long and-” He ventures uncertainly.

You cut him off wrapping your arms around him, “I missed you, missed this.” He mumbles into your hair, pulling you closer.

“Missed you too Eds.” You admit.

You pull up to his trailer, parking by his van, you flip down the visor staring at your reflection. You try to psych yourself up, you can do this you’ve done this a million times it’s just a movie night with Eddie. But you can’t help but think to that little bundle you’d slipped into your bag, almost as an afterthought, it’s practically burning a hole in the front pocket. You shake your head as if to clear it, now or never you think before springing to action grabbing the bag and throwing open your door.

 You knock on his front door, you haven’t knocked on his door in almost as long as you can remember. Usually you’d just barge right in, but nothing felt normal anymore. Eddie calls out to you, “Just a minute…” before appearing in the doorway shifting nervously from foot to foot, “Oh, uh come in.” He jumps aside ushering you in with a sweep of his hand.

You’re thankful he didn’t question the knocking and you also don’t acknowledge his odd behaviour.

“So, uh I brought some snacks.” You hold up the bag, freezing momentarily when you remember your panties shoved deep in the front pocket, among other things. You clear your throat, “So, um anyway… your bedroom, like always?”

He nods, leading the way as you trail along behind him. You settle into your usual spot dropping your bag to the floor gently.

You don’t know what possessed you to bring them but you had. Tucked away in your bag by your feet, that little bundle of ‘gifts’, you can’t stop thinking about it as you pull out a stash of candy. You can barely focus on what he’s saying, he clicks his fingers in front of your face snapping you back to reality, “Hey, I said, do you want popcorn?”

“Oh, uh yeah sure, that’d be great. Thanks Eds.” You smile up at him nervously.

“Ok, be right back. You can set up the movie if you want. Did you still wanna watch Alien? I know that’s what you picked out last… um, last time, it was still on the bed when you… when you left.” He asks tensely. You nod in response and he exits the room.

 The screen crackles to life and you pop the video into the little TV/VCR combo unit you had gifted him, to much protest on his behalf, for his eighteenth birthday.

Pausing the film and turning back to the bed you bite your lip, you have a chance now… you could slip it into the box now, while he’s distracted. You can feel your face heating up as you contemplate it, glancing over to the slightly ajar door before thinking fuck it.

 Kneeling down by your backpack you pull out that little bundle and fish around under his bed for ‘the box’. Flipping off the lid you arrange your items neatly, unfolding them you place your underwear in first, followed by the polaroids on top and finally a new bottle of your lotion, little bow tied around it… was that too much? Maybe, oh well. You slide the box back under his bed.

Eddie renters his bedroom quietly, he didn’t mean to sneak up on you, just wanted to ask if you wanted extra butter on your popcorn. But when he sees you kneeling on the floor, ass up, hand reaching under his bed he can’t tear his eyes away, barely able to hold back a groan, until… under his bed, oh shit. He scrambles to action, sliding to his knees in front of you wide-eyed and panic-stricken he grabs your arm firmly, the one still under his bed trapped on top of the box.

 “What are you doing?” He hisses at you a mix of desperation, panic and anger seeping into his voice.

You sit there frozen staring into his eyes as they bore holes into your own, “Umm… I-I dropped my chapstick?” You answer uncertainly.

“Ok, where is it?” He demands.

You’re speechless, unable to respond, you know you don’t have a chapstick in your hand.

“Go on show me.” He insists.

“I… uhhh…” You stutter.

He drags your arm out from under the bed, your hand knocks the box, flinging it out to rest between the two of you.

Both of you stare down at it, his head snaps back up to look at you but you can’t bring yourself to do the same.

“Did you open this? Did you see this?”

You don’t trust your eyes not to betray you, you can’t look up, “No, uh-”

“Don’t lie to me. Did. You. See. This.” He hisses again.

You remain silent.

“You did, didn’t you… if not now, then… oh my god is that… is that why you took off that day?”

 He grips your chin harshly, forcing you to look at him, “Is that why you went running for the fucking hills? And what, you came back here to get rid of it or something?”

“No…” You mumble, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“No? Then what are you doing?”

“I… uh… just… just open it, Eds.”

He gives you a puzzled look before tossing the lid off, leaving its contents laid bare between you.

He picks up the lotion, wrapped in its little bow, turning it over in his hand.

He splutters, “Wh-what’s this?”

“Just… just keep looking.” You turn your head away in shame.

He looks back to the box, mouth dropping open in awe. He picks up the photos next, flipping through them gasping as they get gradually more and more explicit. He notices the panties next, dropping the photos beside the box to hold them up observing them. “Are these… are these the same ones from the photos?” He groans.

You nod still avoiding his gaze.

“Goddamn… what… why…” He’s unable to finish his thought.

 “Well, I um… you’re right I did find it that day, but it’s not what you think.” You rush to explain, finally looking up at him. “I uh, I saw this and I… I dunno I thought… I thought it was kinda hot.” You cringe a little. “And then suddenly you were back here, half-naked practically dripping wet, then you were all pressed up against me and I just… I didn’t know how to process it I guess.” You shrug.

He smirks at you, “You thought it was ‘hot’? Who knew you were such a little perv?”

You give him a slap, and whine, “Oh, shut up, it’s not like you’re not a perv too.”

“Oh, sweetheart you have no idea.” He hums, “But, then why did you run away, why did you avoid me for so long?”

“I just… I couldn’t face you after, especially after what I did…” You trail off.

 “What do you mean? What did you doooo?” He asks intrigued, drawing out the last syllable.

“I uh, I fingered myself when I got home and I… I thought about you. About how you might use the stuff in your box.” You bite your lip.

He groans in response, “God damn, that is the hottest shit I’ve ever heard. Is that… is that when you took the photos?”

“No um that was a few days later. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, the box, everything and the idea kinda just popped into my head to maybe give you something in return.”

“Awww, so generous of you.” He teases, standing and offering you his hand. You grasp it and he pulls you to your feet, guiding you to sit on the bed before plopping himself down beside you.

“So… what do we do now?” You ask awkwardly eyes downcast, twisting your hands in your lap.

“Well, we could just watch the movie, or…” He trails off.

“Or…?” You look up at him hopefully, into his eyes, now clouded with lust.

“If I’m honest I popped a semi as soon as I saw your cute butt wiggling around in the air and it’s only just been getting worse since.” He admits with a groan. You hazard a glance down at his crotch to see the tent that’s formed there and let out an involuntary whine.

 “You wanna… fool around a little?” You offer glancing back up at him.

“I want anything you’ll give me.” He sighs.

“O-ok… I gotta warn you though I don’t really have much experience with this stuff.”

“Me too, it’s fine.” He assures you, “We can figure it out together.” He smiles softly.

 His hand comes up to cup your face and he leans in hesitating before his lips meet your own. “Can I…?” He breathes out.

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he presses his lips to yours. He’s quick to deepen the kiss, groaning into your mouth. You part your lips letting his tongue explore your own.

When you break apart, both panting he murmurs against your lips, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too.” You sigh. “Ever since-”

He cuts you off, “Don’t. Don’t, I don’t wanna know how long I could have had you… how long I could have had this. Just too stupid to figure it out.”

You slap his chest, “Don’t say that, you are not stupid!”

“But-”

“No! I won’t hear it. Now you better get back to kissing me Munson.”

He pauses uncertainly, you fist your hand into the front of his shirt pulling him back in capturing his lips between your own forcefully.

“Mmpf… yeah… mhhhh… yeah ok.” He moans into your mouth between kisses.

Your hand wanders down his chest to palm at the prominent bulge in his pants. He bites on your lower lip drawing back, draging his teeth along it before releasing.

“You, uh… you wanna get naked for me?” He asks tugging on your shirt.

“Yeah…” you hum in agreement pouting up at him, “do you wanna take off your clothes too?”

“God yes. But you first, I wanna watch.”

“O-ok…” you lower your hands shakily to the hem of your shirt raising it over your head slowly before dropping it on the bed beside you. He gapes at your chest, hands coming up to hover over the swell of your breast.

You sense his hesitation and grab his hands pressing his palms into your sensitive flesh. He groans and gives an experimental squeeze drawing a soft whine from between your lips. He stares on appreciatively as you snake your hands behind your back to release the clasp of your bra, brushing his hands away to pull it free and tossing it away.

His hands are quick to return to their original position now circling your nipples with his thumbs. “This is… goddamn, this is better than any wet dream I’ve ever had.” He murmurs.

You giggle teasing, “And we’ve barely done anything yet.”

“God, I know. Can I… can I get you to lie back?”

“What happened to ‘getting naked’?”

“Yeah, changed my mind, want you to keep your skirt on… if that’s ok?” He rushes to add. “It’s kind of… part of a fantasy I want to try.”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply moving to lean back against his pillows.

“Thank you.” He mumbles moving to straddle you, towering over you.

It’s your turn to tug on the bottom of his shirt now, “Can you get rid of this though, I wanna see you too…” You bat your eyelashes at him. He eagerly hooks a hand into the bottom of his shirt pulling it over his head tossing it aside grinning at you. You run your hands over his chest your eyes following along with their movements. Your fingertips come to rest at his handcuff belt-buckle and you look up into his eyes as you undo his belt. Unzipping his jeans, you tug them down to his knees before rolling down his boxers to join them, his thick, hard cock springs forth, the tip flushed and dripping. Your eyes widen at the sight, “You got a pretty cock Eds…” you breathe out in admiration.

It twitches in response, “God, sweetheart you’re too good to me.” He moans.

The way you squeeze your thighs together beneath him doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he smirks at you devilishly, “Someone’s getting a little antsy, aren’t they? What do you want sweetheart? Tell me.”

“Touch me, please…” You whine.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He brushes his hands along your neck, down your shoulder, “Here?” He teases.

“No. Down… down there.” You pout, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

He reaches down trailing his fingertips in circles over your knee, running his hand up under your skirt to your thigh and squeezing firmly, so close to where you need him, “You mean here?”

“No, Eds! I mean… I mean my pussy.” You sob with a pathetic broken little moan.

“Oh, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He moves torturously slow, flipping your skirt up and tugging your panties to the side exposing your sopping wet cunt to the cool air of his room.

He runs two of his fingers through your slick folds, groaning appreciatively, “All this from just a little groping, god you’re such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

“Oh god, yes. Just for you Eds.” You gasp as he begins to circle your clit.

“Yeah, tell me again how you touched yourself thinkin’ ‘bout little ‘ol me. Tell me, what was I doing in your fantasy?”

You can barely think straight, only just managing to stutter out, “Thought… mhmmm… thought ‘bout you u-using my… hmmm… my panties to jerk off… thought ‘b-bout y-you cumming all over my photos.”

He plunges his fingers into your entrance as he continues, “You wanna know about my fantasy?”

“Yes, please Eds.” He wiggles his fingers in a come-hither motion stretching you out in a way that has you panting.

“Well, in my fantasy I’ve got you like this, skirt flipped up, panties pulled to the side as I jerk off above you. When I cum it goes everywhere, all over you right here…” he pushes his fingers even further into you, you begin clenching down on his digits, “then I pull your panties back in place, make you walk around all day, feeling my cum dripping out of you, spreading all over you. You want that?”

“God yes! Eds please I’m cumming.” You wail as your walls pulse around him.

“Fuck, that was hot.” He groans while slipping his fingers out from between your thighs leaving you trembling beneath him.

 He stares down almost trancelike, at his slick digits, slippery with your cum before pushing them into his mouth sucking on them as his eyes drift shut moaning obscenely.

“Fuck me Eds.” You whine desperately.

His eyes snap open and his hand drops from his mouth, “Uh yeah, god yes… let me just find a condom.” He leans over to his bedside table but you grab his arm.

“‘S fine don’t need one I’m on birth control an’ I wanna feel it when you cum, wanna feel it inside…”

“Fuck, you keep talking like that I’m gonna blow my load in like two seconds…”

“‘S ok if you do, I mean I already came jus’ wanna make you feel good now.”

He growls pushing his jeans and his boxers down to his ankles kicking them off at the edge of the bed. He grips the waistband of your panties moving to pull them off but you stop him, “No leave them, you can fuck me with them on like in your fantasy, you know just pull them to the side.”

“Goddamn, you are like the best wet dream ever, come to life…”

You hook a hand behind his neck cutting him off and pulling him into a searing kiss.

You pull your lips away from his reluctantly, “You gonna fuck me now or what?”

He lets out a rumbling groan, “Yes princess, anything you wish.”

Gripping his shaft at the base with one hand as the other pulls the fabric covering your entrance to the side, he rubs the head along your folds teasingly before slowly easing himself in. He pants out, “Let me know… if- if it’s too much, ok?”

“Mhmm.” You mumble gritting your teeth at the slight burn as your walls stretch around him, while not your first you are unaccustomed to anything of his size.

He bottoms out resting there for a moment allowing both of you to adjust to the sensation before testing the waters with a shallow thrust. His hips shift into a steady roll and you bite your lip whining at the sensation, flexing your walls around him.

 “Oh god, you feel sooo good… I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, fucking you raw…” He gasps.

“Oh, Eds I’m not just letting you do it, I want you to.” You reply breathily.

His hips slam into yours as he lets out a broken moan, “God yes, my dirty little girl wants me to cum inside her.”

“Yes, ‘m yours Eds. Wan’ you to fill me up.” You pant.

“Oh god ‘m not gonna last much longer do ya think you can cum again?” He asks desperately.

“Yeah, maybe… lemme try something.” You drop your hand between your joined bodies, swirling your fingers around your clit and bumping against the base of his shaft.

Your eyes roll back, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as you clamp down around him. He bucks up into you one final time, hips stilling and unloading deep within your wet heat with a cry of your name he collapses on top of you. The two of you lay there, bodies quaking with aftershocks and panting into each other.

He slips out of you moments later readjusting your panties patting them in place as your combined fluids leak out, staining the gusset.

He presses a kiss to your thigh before breathing out “You were so good for me sweetheart.”

“Yeah? Do you think we could do that again sometime?” You look down at him hopefully.

He rakes over the length of your body coming up to face you “Oh, sweetheart you’re not going to be able to keep me off of you now.” He chuckles darkly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You giggle at his response, “Good… So, you still wanna watch the movie?”

“I guess, if you want.” He shrugs.

You nod moving to grab your top, pulling it back over your head forgoing your bra. He moves to grab his own clothes pulling on just his boxers and shirt.

“You still want that popcorn?” He asks moving to the doorway.

“Yes, please.” You grin at him.

He returns bowl of popcorn in hand, he starts up the film and snuggles up to you.

You munch away at the popcorn in his lap, he spends the whole movie anticipating your reactions, but they never come. He’s confused normally you’d be a jumpy mess long ago, you don’t even flinch when it comes to the chest-burster scene. He pauses the film looking at you eyes narrowed, quirking a brow, “Hey, what gives?”

“What’re you talking about Eds?” You mumble back through a mouthful of popcorn.

“You are not reacting to any of this like at all, what gives? Normally you’d be a mess right now, halfway in my lap-”

“Oh, uh yeah about that… I was never actually scared in any of the movies we watched.” You admit with a sly grin.

“What? Then why-” He splutters.

“Cause I wanted to touch you, wanted an excuse to be close to you… so, I… faked it a little.”

“Oh, you little… here I was thinking you had no idea the torture you were putting me through, but you knew, you did it on purpose?!” He gasps affronted.

“Well, I didn’t know it was affecting you too. I just wanted to be closer to you.” You pout.

“We’ll, I guess that worked out for you huh?” He teases.

You smirk back at him, self-satisfied, “It did, didn’t it?”

As you shift from side to side happily in your seat on the bed there’s an audible squelching from between your messy, sticky folds.

Eddie gasps, “Shit, I fucking heard that. Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

You giggle, grabbing his hand to push his fingers against the drenched fabric between your legs and he inhales sharply.

“Are you trying to start something again… already?!”

“Maybe…” you reply cheekily grinning up at him.

He groans head hanging down towards his chest before snapping back up and pouncing on you, “Come here then.” He growls.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Nightfall (4)

Vampire! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3

Warnings: Dubious Consent, smut (18+), mostly dirty talk, some fucked up dynamics where he lets her press a stake to his heart, oral (f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, teasing.

For @stardustmorozov, Nicky I'm sorry but you're gonna yell at me again... and I'm gonna love it.

You sit on his bed, listening to the sound of the shower going. 

Your mouth tastes like spearmint, and your hair is still a little damp after your shower despite your attempts at blow drying.

You’re in one of his shirts, having raided his drawers when the duffel bag he’d given you earlier held nothing but sheer lingerie disguised as sleepwear.

Maybe you shouldn’t stay here, so instead you stand, and begin wandering around his apartment.

His bedroom is farthest from the front door, and you step out, roaming down the hallway, and stopping when you see another door.

It’s open, and you peek in to find an office that you promise yourself to explore after.

It’s the only door in the hallway, and the end of it opens up into a large area with a high ceiling. There’s his kitchen to your left, and on the opposite end of the room from where you are, is the living room area. There are no walls here, just windows that show off the glittering lights of the New York skyline at night. You wonder how he’s able to stand the sun, knowing that vampire eyes were hypersensitive to light, and that most of them avoided the sunlight. Only the very old ones, managed to walk in the sun like humans did. 

You tuck that snippet of information away for further examination.

You turn to examine the kitchen, scanning the cupboards, surprised to find regular household foods like pasta and rice, wondering if he had bought these items for you, or for other human friends of his.

Another hallway at the other end of the kitchen catches your eye, and you walk slowly, more deep in your own head than you were paying attention to the layout of his apartment.

You find the bedroom you’d first woken up in, all walls and no windows, a place that protects from the light, with its own en suite bathroom. You decide that maybe you can sleep here tonight, away from him and his wretched mouth. 

Backtracking, you look at the door for a long moment, before moving forward to examine it.

You reach for the handle, pushing down, you realise it’s locked. You sigh, eyes falling on the latched deadbolt, reaching up to open it, before trying the door handle again.

The door opens this time.

Your stomach twists.

Damn, had it really been that easy the entire time? You study the elevator just a few paces away from the door.

You don’t even think about it, closing the door and snapping the deadbolt shut.

You turn away from the door, and you gasp in fright as you see him standing just a few steps away. 

You jerk, back hitting the door as fright slams through you.

You suck in a deep breath, pressing your hand to your chest.

He’s only got a towel wrapped around his hips, his chest and shoulders still glistening with water after his shower.

You stare at each other, a silent showdown of who’s going to speak first.

Billy tilts his head, studying you intently.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Your brain comes up with the dumbest, most obvious answer possible.

“I’m- not wearing pants.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“We could go get some. Would you leave then?”

“No, cause it’s three in the morning and I’m tired.”

He takes a step toward you, a teasing smile on his pretty face. Your eyes trace the lines of his scars as he draws nearer. You relax as he approaches.

“And in the morning?” 

He’s so close now, you’re eye level with his dripping wet chest.

“Maybe. If I feel like it.” You whisper, studying the scars on his chest, and then flitting your gaze up to meet his.

He takes a deep breath, bracing one hand beside your head, and then after a moment, uses his other hand to trap you in place.

Except that you don’t feel trapped, all you feel is heated want.

“What if I don’t want you to leave?” He asks, his voice stirs something inside of you, a dangerous feeling, something disastrous in the making.

“You can’t stop me.” You murmur, as his fingers touch the bottom of your chin, gently tilting your head higher.

He smiles then, all fangs and pearly whites on display.

“If only that were true.” He hums, leaning in till his lips brush yours.

You push against his biceps hard, and he moves back just enough so that you’re able to slip away from him.

“Why don’t you go kiss someone else. I’m going to bed.” You grit out, walking in the direction of the spare bedroom.

You don’t get very far, before he’s gripping your wrist tightly to keep you in place. You turn to face him, a look of calm irritation plastered on your face.

“That’s what this is about? The kiss?”

“It’s about nothing. Let me go.” You pull on your arm.

He doesn’t budge.

“You’re jealous?”

“I’m not-” You grunt as you pull on your hand again, “-You’re just pissing me off.”

“You’re the one that called me ‘sick’ and now you’re jealous cause I kissed someone?”

“I’m not fucking jealous-” You gasp as he pins your body to the kitchen counter, your body freezing in shock at the angry expression on his face.

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” He grits out, blinking after a second and seemingly calming in the same space of time.

He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Don’t forget I can hear every beat of your heart. I can smell your cunt. I already know how wet you are. Don’t think you’re capable of a lie.”

You let out an angry sigh, turning your head away from him.

“Whatever.” you say as harshly as you can.

There’s a moment of silence, where he looks at you, and you make a point not to look at him.

“Alright. I’m gonna fix this.” He says decidedly.

“I could care less- what the fuck are you-” You gasp as he picks you up easily, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Billy what the fuck! Put me the fuck down now you asshole!” You grunt, his shoulder digging near painfully into your hip. 

You kick your legs, trying to escape and after a moment you realise that it doesn’t make a difference.

If you really wanted to, you could maybe straighten your body and fight your way out of his grip, but there was an inevitability to his movements. It didn’t matter how long it took, or how difficult it was, Billy was persistent, and he would get what he wanted eventually.

So when your body lands softly on his bed, all you do is look up at him angrily.

“Stay there.” He orders, untucking the towel from his hips and dropping it to the floor. You look up to the ceiling to avoid looking at his nude form. You don't want to give him the satisfaction.

When he turns away, your eyes find him once more, studying the broad expanse of his back, all the way down to his ass.

You clench, grabbing a pillow and dropping it on top of your face to hide your desire. You try your very hardest not to remember the look of him, the feel of his body on yours, his cock-

He tugs the pillow away from your face, and you sigh in annoyance up at him.

You don’t want to look down, but your eyes have almost a mind of their own.

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion when you notice that he’s wearing a fitted pair of grey boxers on his lower half.

When your eyes meet his in confusion, he grins.

He finds his way up to you, hands sliding over your legs, up your calves and to your knees.

"Did you think we were gonna fuck, baby?" He teases, with a tilt of his head.

His hands slide up more, and you're just confused when he reaches under your shirt to tug at your panties.

"We're not fucking tonight, sweetheart, I just wanna talk to you."

Then why the fuck was he taking your panties off?

When he gets the garment off, you watch him close his eyes for a brief second, tilt his head up and take a deep breath.

He was-

"God. You smell good."

His eyes are red when they reconnect with yours.

You don't say anything- you find that you can't. You want him and he knows it.

He grips your thighs, pressing them upward so that your cunt is exposed to him fully.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, you're sure he can hear it. Open and vulnerable as you watch him look at your glistening cunt.

"Pretty. Did you know that?" 

You gulp, eyes glued to his form, admiring the look of his arms and the swell of his biceps.

"I want to taste you every day, all the time. You have no idea how hard it is to stop myself from dropping you on the first surface I can find and burying my face in your cunt."

He watches you clench around nothing, the corner of his mouth curling up into a smile.

He releases your legs, letting them drop a little and he looms in above you, pressing your body tightly to his.

Chest to chest, your bare centre pressed right up to the hardness of his clothed cock, there's no space to breathe where he doesn't exist.

He angles his head so that his lips are pressed to your ear.

"I want to lick that pretty little cunt till you pass out, and then wake you up so I can do it all over again." He whispers in your ear, your body tense and on edge from just his words.

"I want to fuck you till you beg me to stop, and even then, I'll still be giving you just one more."

You think you might be ruining the sheets below you with how aroused you were.

"Then do it." You challenge, hoping for some reprieve to the ache inside of you.

His hand moves up slowly, fingers tracing your cheek before covering your mouth firmly.

You make a muffled sound of protest, raising your hands to try and push him away. You hear a quiet laugh, before one of your hands is pinned above your head.

It doesn’t matter, whether you have one hand free or two- you would not be able to get out from under him on your own.

“My poor sweet little huntress,” He hums, your ear vibrating with his low words, “If you want me to fuck you till you cry, you’re going to have to ask nicely. Actually no- you’re going to have to beg.”

Your groan of annoyance is muffled behind his palm. There was no way you were going to beg him for anything.

You feel him smile against your neck, and then you still as you feel his teeth. 

He drags his sharp teeth gently over your neck, avoiding the spot where he bit you earlier.

“You’re so helpless under me, isn’t that nice? I can do anything I want to you, and you’d have no power to stop me.” 

To prove his point, you feel his tongue swipe over your shoulder, and then purposefully over your bite, sending brief little shivers down your spine, and then he trails his tongue up the column of your neck, and then even further, licking over your cheek as well.

Your body feels like a livewire, vibrating with sheer desire each time he touches you.

You want to grunt out so many things. That he was filthy, that he was just downright fucked up in the head.

That you wanted him to keep going.

“You like that, don’t you? You always have.” He lets out a slow sigh, “You always get so wet when you can’t fight back.”

Fuck you, you wanted to say. 

“What if we made this interesting?” He hums, raising his upper body off yours for a second to reach into his bedside drawer. 

You’re no longer fully trapped under him, and if you wanted to get out, you could. Instead, you wait curiously to see what he was going to do.

He pulls a stake out of his top drawer.

“You- just have that in there? I could have killed you this whole time?”

“Of course.” He teases pushing the drawer shut, “Now’s your chance.”

Before you can ask what he means, he’s sliding the silver stake into your hand.

What the fuck?

“Now, you can stop me if you really want.” Billy says ominously.

“That’s the most fucked up-” Before you can finish, he’s slapping his hand back over your mouth.

“Don’t care about what you have to say, baby, I’m gonna do what I want to you, and you can stop me if you feel like.”

And then, he starts tugging your shirt up, exposing your stomach.

In retrospect, you don’t have to kill him to make him stop, you could just mortally wound him. One well placed stab near the heart would be enough of a deterrent. You could slip free and be out the door in minutes.

Billy pulls your shirt up higher, exposing your breasts to the open air. Your hand tightens on the stake.

You should do it. You really should.

He groans when his tongue slides wetly over your left nipple. You shudder blissfully.

Your eyes roll back in your head, before fluttering shut. A breath of air leaves your mouth in a rush, fingers hold taut on the warming piece of silver in your hand.

One quick swipe of his tongue on your left breast, then your right. He raises his head.

“Do you want more?” Billy asks.

With your eyes still closed, you shake your head.

“Then stop me.” He says, before his lips wrap around your pebbled nipple. 

His short beard scratches along your sensitive breast, he kisses his way up to the spot below your collarbone, white hot sparks splintering over your body everywhere he touches.

You still when you feel his teeth graze your skin.

“Still want me to stop?” He checks in.

No you don’t.

“Yes.”

His teeth press into your skin.

A sharp cry spills out of you, tingles as he breaks skin, followed by a jolt of pain and then heat.

You jerk when he extracts his fangs.

Billy moans when he gets his first mouthful.

You pant, unable to understand how having him drink from you could hurt, and yet feel so blissfully good.

He takes another, and then another.

Was he going to kill you like this? Should you stop him now?

He rolls his hips, rock hard erection just bumping your clit and you gasp.

Fuck, why did every part of him have to feel so good? You could feel your arousal, slippery and messy between your thighs, begging you to give into him, if only for a moment so that he could ease your ache.

Instead, you move your hand, pressing the stake to his shoulder.

From his spot, drinking from your chest, you feel him make a sound of amusement.

You groan, disdain for him building in you, you press the weapon deeper till it breaks his skin.

He pauses, raising his head from your chest, lapping slowly at the trickling droplets of your blood before drawing back.

“Silly girl, didn’t anyone teach you how to kill a vampire?” He asks, grabbing your wrist in an iron grip, and though you try to fight his guidance, he’s too strong, pulling your hand until the stake is pressed to the centre of his chest.

“My heart is right here.” He murmurs softly, and with his hand on yours, he pulls the weapon closer, breaking skin once more.

“Stop.” You say, panic building inside of you, tugging at your hand in hopes that it can slip out from under his. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to kill him.

You pull hard at your hand, gasping gratefully when you manage to pull away. 

You look at him, sharp breaths trying to calm yourself when you get your hand away. 

He gives you a soft smile, pulling the stake away from his chest and dropping it on the bed.

You gulp, watching the wound he’d caused heal before your eyes.

“You are,” You breathe, “Absolutely fucking crazy.”

“Maybe,” He agrees with a hum, “But at least you can admit to yourself now, that you want this too.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours chastely, “That maybe you actually like me.”

“Not wanting you to die is not the same as-”

“-Oh give me a fucking break.” He grunts, pulling back.

He grips your knees, and before you can figure out what he’s doing- he flips you onto your stomach.

You let out a little grunt, pushing yourself up, but suddenly pressed back down by the weight of his body covering yours.

“You’ve cum on my cock way too many times to be lying to yourself like this.” He hisses.

You turn your head, so that you can see his face in your peripherals.

"You're such an arrogant fuck." You grunt out, your rucked up shirt causing your nipples to press against the bed, the exposure of your body makes you almost quiver with delight.

He leans in, his breath against your ear as you feel his hands gripping your hips.

"Why can't you just admit to yourself that you might want me, hmm?" He hisses lowly in your ear, his breath brushing against your skin, tormenting you.

"That deep down," He continues, pressing his hand between your hips and the bed, "Somewhere in that pretty head and wet cunt," You feel his hand sliding lower, fingers touching the top of your mound, "You want me with you," He kisses your cheek, "Over you, under you, inside you." You feel him take a deep breath, his nose pressed to your neck.

"I want to lick your cunt so often that I can taste you when you're not there. Is that too much to ask for?"

Your head spins, too drunk on him to formulate words.

He makes it even harder, by slipping his hand lower, fingers meeting your wet slit.

He doesn't hesitate, fingers gliding easily down, meeting your clit and you let out a low, shuddering moan as your ache is addressed in the slightest way possible.

You tilt your hips forward, into his hand.

"Billy." You sigh, widening your legs instinctively, anything to encourage him to keep going.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You mewl, nodding your head.

His finger slips gently over your clit, and your breathing pauses, you don't want to do anything that would make him stop giving you this pleasure.

He gives a firm press, and you feel your body shudder, a wave of pure bliss sinking over you.

You say his name again, shifting your body, trying to display your impatience to him.

"Ah ah ah, little girl. Where are your manners? I told you I wanted you to beg."

"Fuck you." You groan angrily.

His finger slips lower, massaging your entrance for a few moments before slipping his finger in.

You gasp, your body going lax at the feel of the pleasure building in you. It’s good. It’s so good and it’s so wrong that he makes you feel like this.

"So fucking tight." He hisses, "That cunt's begging for a stretch."

Focusing on his words are hard with the way his lone finger moves, pumping in and out of you easily, your body desperate for him.

Something goes off in your head, like a gun when he curls his finger, and touches that spot deep inside of you. It pulls a groan from the very depths of your soul. You pant, trying to keep your thinking focused with the way he’s trying to steal it.

"That's it. You like this huh? Like the way I take what I want?" He leans in till his lips are at your ear, "I like it too." You clench around his finger.

"You're a sick fuck." You groan, half your mouth muffled from where your face is pressed to the bed.

"Yeah? Am I? Do you hate me?" He pulls back, and before you can make any sound of protest, two of his fingers are sliding into you.

Fuck, you can feel your body stretching for him. He uses his other hand to grip your jaw, tilting your head up almost painfully so that your face isn’t muffled in the sheets anymore.

"Tell me you hate me." Billy whispers in your ear.

You cry, his fingers beginning to move slowly, spreading you open and forcing you to feel him, to ache for more of him.

His fingers slow when you don’t immediately answer, and you groan internally, assembling the words in your head.

“I- I,” You stutter out, tears dripping from your eyes uncontrollably and pooling around his grip on your jaw, “I h-hate you.”

“Yeah? Poor little girl. Should I stop then? Leave you alone?” He coos, voice condescending in every way possible.

“Nh-” You immediately vocalise, begging him in your head to not stop, but the words can’t seem to come out of your mouth.

He laughs in your ear, understanding what you were about to say without you having to say it. 

The pace of his fingers quicken, you hiss, arching your back, feeling your orgasm swiftly approaching. You’ve wanted him since this morning, since he pulled you onto his lap and told you that you were his.

Your body trembles, eyes rolling back in your head, on the brink of release-

-And then his fingers stop.

A cry of despair leaves your lips, and the denial in your body aches, and then hurts even more when he pulls his fingers away, withdrawing his hand from under you. His grip on your jaw loosens, until your face is pressed against the sheets once more.

You raise your head groggily, turning your body onto your side when you feel him lift himself off of you. You catch sight of him sliding his fingers, wet with your denial into his mouth.

You bite down on your bottom lip hard, on the brink of begging for him, pleading with him to make you cum, and then take you in any way he saw fit.

But that’s exactly what he wanted.

So instead, you stay still, trying not to speak, feeling the fire of denial burn through you.

You tug your shirt down, looking at him with angry eyes as he observes you.

“Are you done having your fun?” You ask bitterly.

The corner of his lip twitches.

"You know what to say if you want to cum, baby. Don't act like this isn't your choice."

You feel petulance build up inside of you, anger beyond thought.

"Go fuck yourself." You hiss, moving to slide off the bed.

He grips your hips, hauling you back, until you're on your back, looking angrily up at him.

"What's the rush, sweetness? Don't you want me to clean you up?" 

“Clean me?” You repeat in disbelief, sitting up, propping the weight of your torso onto your elbows. Your brain stalling on what that could possibly mean.

His smile is devious, the look of a man that has everything he wants and then some.

He takes his time, shouldering his body in between your thighs, his face so close to your dripping centre that you’re not sure if you have any brain cells left functional

“God.” He murmurs, his breath brushing along your mound as he takes in an unnecessary breath, his eyes immediately locking on to the messy place between your thighs, “You make me feel like the most insane person on the planet.” 

“You are the most insane person on the planet.”

He grins, lowering his head slowly, anticipation building inside of you, a simmering heat, a thrumming pulse.

“Love it when you talk dirty to me.” Is the last thing he murmurs before his lips meet your cunt.

You close your eyes, pressing your lips together, begging yourself to not make a sound. He places a gentle kiss to your slit, and then another, before you feel his lips part, and his tongue snake out.

You make a muffled groan behind your clenched teeth as he gets a taste of you.

What starts off gentle, turns slightly rougher as he lays a harsh swipe of his tongue along your pussy, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel Billy begin to slowly lick your cunt.

He’s thorough and unrelenting, his face buried between your thighs, licking at you without a care in the world.

You want to spit every degrading word you can at him, hating the way you know in the back of your head that only he has ever made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck you.” You gasp as his tongue finds your clit easily, a laugh vibrating through your nether regions as he hears you.

You give up trying to resist, reaching to grip the back of his head, hoping to urge him on.

It has the opposite effect, he raises his head, and you whine, a low, pained noise at his torment.

"I'm not clean enough yet," You argue, looking down to meet his scarlet eyes.

You look at each other for a long moment, the heat of unsaid words crackling between you.

You want to beg, you're almost on the brink of it.

"I agree." Is all he says before he lowers his head again.

"Fuck-" You gasp, your back hitting the bed as your arm refuses to support your weight for any longer. 

His tongue is too dexterous, licking at your clit, and then dipping down to your entrance. He groans, tongue catching your arousal straight from the source.

Your toes curl, blissful orgasm near, your body tingles with the anticipation of your impending release.

You moan his name, putting every ounce of desperate desire into the one word.

He pulls away right when you're on edge.

The sound that leaves you is pitiful, tears of frustration spill from your eyes as you look up at him.

"I'll give you anything if you let me come."

"You know what I want." He says, licking his lips.

"Besides that," You try to bargain, "I'll blow you again, or I'll let you bite me." 

His smile is one of amusement, it makes you feel like a child, begging for something you're not going to get.

"I think we've already established that if I wanted those things, you wouldn't stop me. Even if you could."

You frown, letting out a sharp breath, fully understanding that he would not take pity on you tonight.

"Fine, asshole, I'll do it myself." You grunt, slipping from under him and sitting up with the intention of a shower.

He grips your bicep harshly to stop you. You grit your teeth angrily, unable to look into his eyes.

"If I catch you touching that little cunt- my cunt- without permission. I'll teach what real punishment would be like."

He pulls you closer, till his lips are pressed right to your ear again, your stomach flipping at his proximity.

"I'll tie you to the bed, and edge you till you forget your name. I'll use you like my own personal fleshlight and I'll never let you cum."

You hiss angrily, nether regions throbbing at his words and you tug your arm out of his grip.

"Fuck. You." Is your only reply as you head to the bathroom for the coldest shower possible.

.

After all of that, you sleep in bed beside him.

Because you know him now a little, and you know there's no way he was letting you have your own bed.

You'd gone to sleep on opposite sides of the bed, but you'd woken up in his arms.

"Thought vampires didn't need sleep?" You ask, voice unsteady, having just woken up.

"We don't." He answers, looking down at you. 

Your eyes trace his scars, you want to touch them, ask him what happened.

"So why did you lie beside me all night?"

"Because I wanted to." He answers.

Your stomach flips, and you have to look away as you feel blood rush to your face.

"Will you tell me more about this…imprint?" You ask softly.

He makes a little sound of displeasure.

"It's not exactly an imprint- It’s like-" He lets out a low sigh.

"It sounds worse than it actually is, but- ugh- do you know what quantum entanglement is?"

"Do I look like a physicist?" You answer.

He rolls his eyes, a small smile on his face at your snark.

"As simple as I can explain, when two particles are entangled, they remain connected, regardless of distance."

"What entangles them?" You ask.

"Physical interaction, but, with people, it's a lot harder to explain because there's a lot that isn't understood. It can happen with anyone, but not everyone, and at a subconscious level, it has to be accepted by both."

"You're saying I chose this?"

"Some part of you did, yeah, some part of me too, and then, no matter how far I got from you, I could still feel you."

"Feel me?" You press, hoping for him to elaborate.

He raises a hand, his knuckles carefully brush your cheek.

"Like you were always standing in the room with me. Like I wasn't alone."

You blink, trying to figure out if you'd felt the same way. You had so many questions flying through your head and difficulty putting them into words.

“Is there any way to break it?”

You can almost feel the air go frigid between you.

“As far as I understand, nothing breaks the bond except dying.”

Great.

“And what happens if we stay together?”

“I’ve heard different things from different people.” He responds.

“Like what?” You ask, trying to think it through. You remember Ethan had mentioned that there was the prolonging of lives involved.

He closes his eyes, shakes his head.

"I don't want to tell you what I'm not sure about. I have a friend, bonded to a human, maybe you can ask them whenever."

You swallow, nodding, trying not to fret over the possibility of more vampires.

Deep in thought, you blink in surprise when you feel his thumb brush over your cheek again. You look up at him in surprise.

"I have another question, but it's very personal."

"What is it?" 

You stall for a moment, studying the look in his eyes, the dark reflectiveness of them, the way you can almost see yourself in his eyes.

"Exactly how old are you?"

It changes the sour mood, the corner of his mouth curling in amusement before he gives you a fanged grin.

"That is a personal question, and maybe I'm not comfortable with answering." He says, tapping the tip of your nose with a slender finger.

You huff.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to freak you out, and telling you my age is gonna freak you out."

Maybe he was right, maybe it was better that you didn't know.

You sigh, rolling onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. He gets closer to you, fingers tracing over your cheek and down your neck, only stopping when they reach the healing bite on your shoulder.

Experimentally, he presses his thumb against the wound. You turn your head sharply to look at him, feeling the pain swim through your body but not reacting to it.

“Ow.” You say simply.

“How bad does it hurt?” He asks quietly.

You smack his hand away, sitting up, your back to him.

“Why does it suddenly matter?” You jab, moving to dangle your feet off the side of the bed.

There’s a big silence, he doesn’t answer, and after a moment you’re forced to glance back to make sure he’s still there and hasn’t dissolved into the air because of you.

He’s looking at you, as if he somehow understands something about you that you don’t know about yourself.

“How many times have you been bitten?”

The question brings a laugh to your lips.

“Enough times that I'm used to it.”

“Does it hurt any less each time?”

You turn away, an amused and thoughtful smile rises to your face.

“Every time I get bitten, always hurts like the first time.” You say in finality, leaving the room soon after.

.

Whatever bond he was describing- you didn’t feel it. There was nothing there but a deep seated need to explore him. It was more curiosity than desire.

At least, that’s what you told yourself to feel better.

You’d showered, looking at your reflection in the fogged mirror, trying to think clearly with so much frustration in your system. In the moment, you close your eyes, and recall the first time you’d ever fucked him.

It had been frantic at first, the way he’d used his tongue on you had your body begging for more, and you honestly thought you were going to die after you’d tried to kill him.

You’d put everything into it- savouring him because you wanted to seal yourself into his memory- if he was going to kill you by the end of it.

You’d gone pliant when he'd lined himself up with your entrance, and you can still remember the way your brain spiralled in surprise at the ridiculous amount of pleasure. No one had ever made you feel like that before.

Over and over again, you’d fucked till you could barely hold yourself up, till you’d been sitting on his lap, his hands gripping your hips to do all the work because you couldn’t even lift your head from the crook of his neck.

He’d been quiet, not like the second time, or even last night, when he was so vocal, the only thing you could compare it to was sin itself.

Your lower regions pulse. You can feel the heat between your thighs, begging for him, and the pleasure he gives regardless of how annoying he was.

It’s why you grab the dress at the bottom of the duffel bag to wear, deciding that you didn’t have to beg to get what you wanted. 

It was actually a really cute dress, blue, with little printed flowers all over it. Most importantly, it was short, only coming up to mid-thigh, which meant that if you bent over, he’d see the smallest scrap of lace you’d decided to call underwear today.

If he could play games, so would you.

.

He’s making breakfast when you step into the kitchen. It kind of amuses you, that he’s only cooking for you.

“Can I help?” You ask, stepping up beside him at the stove to look down at the omelette he’d been working at.

He glances at you, looks down at the stove, before blinking to look over at you once more.

You watch his jaw stiffen, you resist the urge to bite your lip as you watch his eyes trace down your body.

Oh, what power.

“Butter.” He says, “Fridge.”

You offer him a teasing smile, before turning away.

You bend unnecessarily, feeling your skirt rise up, cool air brushing the back of your thighs. 

The butter is on the middle shelf, making your bending completely unnecessary in the first place.

He's not looking at you when you turn around. You're not even sure if he's seen your little display.

He takes the butter from you without a word, and you're very intrigued by the way he cooks, the move of his wrist to flip the omelette.

"Can you get the bread toasted for me?"

How was he doing this? Being so calm and casual with you? Seeing this side of him was so much worse for your sanity than anything else. 

"You have bread?" You ask curiously, looking around, but not able to spot any.

"Yeah, here-" He steps away from the stove to reach into one of the overhead cupboards. You glance down at the pan on the stove, to make sure nothing is burning. The deep indentations on the handle of the pan barely catches your eye, and you blink in surprise.

There were deep impressions of his fingers… caused by squeezing too hard.

Maybe he was more affected with your display than he let on.

You fight a satisfied smile, giving him a knowing look when he returns to place the bag of sliced bread into your hands.

"You bought all of this for me?" You tease, "I'm flattered."

He looks hot when he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice. I can’t let you starve.”

“Because you like me?” You pry, swaying your shoulders playfully from side to side.

He huffs, using the spatula to flip the finished omelette onto a nearby plate.

Billy doesn’t respond, simply shaking his head without looking at you.

It only urges you on, like a match, sparking as it rubs against coarse paper.

You brace your hands against his kitchen counter, stiffening your arms as you use your toes to push you into an effortless bounce, using the momentum to raise your body, sitting yourself on his counter, facing him.

He doesn’t look, simply preparing the pan for toast.

“Ah,” You tease, parting your thighs subtly, “So you don’t like me then.”

Yet still, he doesn’t respond, calmly observing the bread as it toasts, the smell of it in the air makes your mouth water a little.

But it’s not what you’re hungry for.

“Maybe you only think you like me because of how sweet my blood tastes. Maybe it’s all in your head-”

Your voice goes quiet when he finally pins you with a stern glare. 

His movements are decisive, turning the stove off, moving the pan away from the residual heat, and then turning to you.

Goddamn.

You gasp, raising a leg to back away from him while also making an attempt to push him back with your foot, but there’s nowhere for you to go, your head bumps a cupboard door, and that’s all the distraction he needs to grab your ankle.

You let out a little squeak, gasping as he pulls you forward and right up against his body, encouraging your legs to wrap around him.

You open your mouth to speak, to protest, to fight him in an unmeaningful way, but you don’t get the chance as his hand grips the back of your neck, forcing your mouth onto his.

God fucking damn.

Your eyes shut, your body relaxes, and then sings with delight as he delves his tongue past your lips.

You moan into his mouth, unable to fight it, leaning in because it feels so good to have him. 

Fuck every part of you that told you this was wrong. You wanted him and nothing would stop you.

You grip his shirt in a tight fist, leaning in, meeting his mouth with an undeniable force. He presses back, and for a moment you feel so blissfully wanted, maybe more than you’d ever been before.

Only when his hand weaves into your hair, his fist tightening to hold your head in place as he leans away, do you remember the taunting remarks that got you here.

Your scalp stings, mouth falling open to gasp in air.

His eyes are dark red, like the blood he drinks to stay alive.

He doesn’t speak, releasing your hair to support your behind as he lifts you off the counter, moving quickly with your body pressed to his.

Your vision shifts too fast for comprehension, and the next thing you can process is lying face down across the marble kitchen island.

He grips the back of your head to keep you there, warm cheek to frigid marble and you stay, refusing to move, wishing that he takes in this moment, everything that you’re willing to give.

He leans over your body, until his mouth is pressed to your ear.

“Do you ever shut up?” Billy hisses, and you have to fight a satisfied smile.

He’s not done ranting, continuing on as if he doesn’t care for your answers.

“I know you just said that to get a rise out of me, but the very idea of me only wanting your for your blood- makes me fucking sick.”

He leans in even more, taking a deep breath in the space of your neck.

“I want all of you, every single piece of you, over and over again until you’re fucking mine.”

He leans away a little.

“Is that what you wanted to hear? Hmm? When you put on this little dress and flashed that cunt at me?”

He moves away even more, and the next thing you feel is him pushing your dress up, his hand pressed securely to the small of your back so that you can’t raise your body.

He's still for a moment, and so are you, burning with anticipation, your cunt getting wetter by the second.

You gasp in surprise when you feel his nose graze the back of your thigh.

You shudder, feeling his breath along your most sensitive areas, your skin tingles as he runs his nose upward, your hands curl into fists beside your head when you feel a small puff of air against your skin.

He’s still for so long that you find your body tense with anticipation, biting down on your bottom lip hard so that you don’t beg him to just put you out of your sordid misery. 

You make a small mewling sound of surprise when you feel his tongue lick along the lace gusset of your panties. 

He tugs at the scrap of fabric, pulling it away from the tacky seam of your cunt so that he can get a better look, an uninhibited view of your desire.

You want to say his name, so badly that you can feel the resonant sound of it in the back of your throat. Instead, you repeat it in your head.

Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy…

“I can’t believe how fucking messy this cunt gets. All for me.” He says softly, as if you’re not meant to hear but you do anyway.

“Such a fucking shame that you won’t beg. The things I want to do to you, the ways I want to make you cum.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, panting hard against the kitchen counter, your inner walls fluttering, begging. 

“Fucking tease.” He breathes out, as he watches more arousal spill from between your thighs.

Billy, please-

Your gasp gets caught in your throat as his tongue licks a wet trail from your clit to your entrance.

“Fuck- didn’t mean to do that but I can’t help it.” Is all he says before his tongue starts licking you slowly.

Your eyes roll back into your head and stays there permanently for a few seconds. The flood of bliss is almost too much for your body to manage.

He grunts, his hands gripping your thighs to spread your legs further apart.

His tongue is forceful as it dances over your clit, and then, after what you assume is a moment of contemplation, you feel his tongue push its way against your entrance.

Your breathing is sharp and shallow, you reach to grip the other edge of the counter, trying to get some leverage to remain sane.

The pleasure is shallow, but your body is hypersensitive with denial, his tongue fucking into you at a reasonable pace is almost enough to have your breath stalling in your throat.

When he finally gets control of himself, his tongue slows, carefully licking you, daring your body to think about orgasm.

After a few more moments, he raises his head, and you breathe a sigh of relief, your body releasing the tension of pleasure, your hands relaxing its grip on the marble countertop.

But you should have known better than to think he was done with you, not satisfied until you know for sure that you’ve lost this interaction.

His hands on your hips, gripping them as he turns you over, pulling you up into a sitting position.

Nose to nose, you look into his eyes with a half-lidded gaze.

“Your blood is nice,” He whispers, hand raising to cup your cheek, “But it’s you I want, huntress. Don’t forget that.”

You sigh, pressing your cheek into his palm and closing your eyes.

“Say it for me. What do I want?” He asks.

You breathe out a huff, an unknown emotion squeezing your throat tightly.

“Me.” You whisper softly, eyes still shut to avoid his gaze.

He doesn’t mind, thumb caressing your cheek.

“Good girl.”

And then he’s gone- right back to toasting bread, as if nothing had ever happened.

It almost drives you insane.

.

.

.

Happy Halloween!