#some of the tethered dresses were fun

[maracllea]

MET GALA 2024 - Garden of Time - some of my favorites, no particular order after miss Z

[ultralightpoe]

JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

-

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain. 

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person. 

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. 

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare. 

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said. 

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’.  But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink. 

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention.  Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat. 

This could be fun. 

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it. 

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh. 

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic. 

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

-

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin. 

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?” 

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost. 

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door. 

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you. 

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.” 

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.” 

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress. 

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath. 

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms. 

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining. 

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him. 

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence. 

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark. 

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster. 

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

-

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about. 

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill. 

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person. 

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors. 

-

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

-

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan. 

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn. 

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back. 

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off. 

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to. 

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap. 

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm. 

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home. 

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

-

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check. 

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement. 

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you. 

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.” 

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt. 

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center. 

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own. 

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair. 

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan. 

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him. 

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up. 

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze. 

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point 

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them. 

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

-

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time. 

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back. 

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure. 

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off. 

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

-

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild. 

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump. 

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher. 

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets. 

-

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

-

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was  empty. 

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs. 

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin. 

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you. 

“Goodnight.” You whisper. 

“Goodnight, Doll.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling. 

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door. 

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look. 

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

-

[peachesofteal]

Ghoap x female reader / 18+

Everything was fine.

Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.

Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.

You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.

You weren’t a part of their life, really.

You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.

For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.

But most of all, they made sure-

you understood the status quo.

“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.

“I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”

“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”

So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.

It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.

They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

And it was all… fine.

Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.

So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.

They always did.

You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.

No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.

Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.

You shoved the boys from your mind.

You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.

You’re fine.

“So how’s work?”

“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.

Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.

It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.

“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.

“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.

You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.

You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.

It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-

Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.

His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.

You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.

The room spins.

And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.

You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-

Cool.

“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-

You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.

“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.

“Bonnie, ye-“

“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.

Very uncool.

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

Summary: At the Halloween party, you have fun and finally get Joel out of your head. Sure, at least for a few hours, as the night plays a trick on you. WC: 6.1k A/N: Hi! As the tag list has gotten so big (THANK U OMG!!!) and apparently doesn't work too well, I'm not going to use it anymore. From now on, I'll be posting updates through my updates blog! So make sure to follow and turn on notifications <3 love youuu

Saturday, 7 p.m. The evening air carried a quiet sharpness that pricked at the edges of your skin, cool enough to remind you that autumn was in full swing but not so bitter as to warrant more than your tights and boots. You stepped out, the white dress flowing lightly against your thighs, its flared sleeves brushing your arms as you moved. The dark brown corset at your waist felt like a reassuring hand, grounding you, while its lift brought a confidence that hummed softly under your skin. Your boots, stretched to your knees, a quiet defense against the chill creeping in with the fading sunlight.

The door clicked shut behind you, a sound that was at once final and fleeting. You barely had time to register the weight of the evening when the low rumble of Joel’s truck snuck into the quiet, its approach measured, deliberate. You turned, instinctively, just as he stepped out. His movements were unhurried, his gaze low, as though he hadn’t seen you—or as though he was choosing not to. 

The passenger door opened next, and Sarah emerged like a burst of energy, her grin wide and unguarded. She spotted you immediately, her excitement spilling over as she called your name and hurried toward you, her arms flung wide. You caught her easily, her warmth a stark contrast to the crisp air. 

“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice full of a curiosity that felt almost reverent. “You look beautiful.”

You smiled at her, taking in the mismatched charm of her outfit—fluffy bunny slippers peeking out beneath purple pajama pants patterned with white clouds, her coat barely concealing the dark blue long-sleeve shirt underneath. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m going to a Halloween party.”

Sarah pulled back slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion. “But Halloween was last night. It’s November.”

You laughed softly, the sound slipping past your lips like something you hadn’t meant to reveal. “It’s never too late for a party, is it?”

Before Sarah could reply, Joel’s voice cut through the moment like a taut string snapping.

“Sarah. Home.” His tone was firm, unmistakable, though his face only lingered in the doorway for a second before disappearing inside.

Sarah ignored him with the practiced ease of someone who knew how far she could stretch the tether.

“I hope you saved me something good yesterday,” she said, turning back to you, her eyes alight with the thought of treats.

You smiled, brushing a loose strand of her hair aside. “I’m sure Brenda sent some sweets with your dad.”

“Did she make those cara—”

“Sarah.” Joel’s voice rose again, sharper this time, slicing through her sentence. His figure reappeared in the doorway, framed by the warm light spilling out behind him. His gaze landed on her first, then shifted briefly to you, his frown deepening as if your presence was an unwelcome interruption.

“Home,” he said again, the word heavier this time, a command that carried no room for negotiation.

Sarah turned toward him, her annoyance barely concealed.

“In a second!” she called back, her voice tinged with exasperation. Then, with a glance at you, she rolled her eyes dramatically. You couldn’t help but grin, mirroring her expression in a conspiratorial gesture that only seemed to deepen Joel’s scowl.

“NOW,” he barked, his patience finally unraveling. His presence filled the doorway like a storm cloud, and Sarah, sighing, gave in. 

“Go,” you told her gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. Your voice was quiet, steady, though something in your chest tightened as you spoke. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

She nodded, the mischief in her smile dimmed slightly by the weight of her father’s insistence. As she retreated, her steps slow and deliberate, you stayed where you were, watching until the door closed behind her. The ache was subtle but sharp.

You shook the thought from your mind, forcing yourself to let go of the tension Joel's mood had wrapped around you. He wasn’t going to ruin this night—not this one. You tightened your grip on your small purse and started walking toward Travis’s house. Your boots clicked against the pavement with a rhythm that felt too steady for the fluttering nerves you carried.

There was a faint nervousness bubbling under your excitement, a ridiculous thing, really, given that you’d seen Travis just that morning. He’d picked you up to go shopping, laughing at your indecision as you flitted from one idea to the next, caught between wanting something outrageous and something simple. You hadn’t known what to wear for tonight. All you knew was that you wanted to feel good. Pretty, yes. Sexy, definitely. Attractive, for sure. Something about the promise of the evening—the energy it held—made you crave a night where you didn’t have to think too hard, didn’t have to manage the weight of anything heavy. Just a night of effortless fun in good company. 

Travis was exactly the kind of company you needed. Relaxed, thoughtful in that easy way, funny without trying too hard. He knew how to take care of you without making it feel like a burden. When you’d asked for his opinion on a costume, exasperated after hours of fruitless searching, he’d picked up the white dress with an almost boyish confidence. “Victorian pirate,” he’d said with a grin, as if the idea had struck him in the moment. “Or something like that.”

You’d agreed without much thought. The dress was beautiful, and you already had the perfect corset at home to pair it with. It hugged you in all the right places, cinching your waist while lifting your chest just enough to make you feel like the women in those romantic paintings you loved—the ones with soft, curved bodies draped in gauzy fabrics, their skin glowing and inviting. And tonight, you did. The tights and knee-high boots you’d added were practical for the cool night, but they didn’t detract from the overall effect. If anything, they completed it. On the other hand, the corset hugged you the way you imagined the painter’s brush might.

By the time you reached Travis’s door, you felt confident, maybe even a little giddy. You rang the doorbell, the sound breaking the quiet night, and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. Travis stood there, framed by the soft light spilling from his hallway. He looked... well, like something you wouldn’t hesitate to sink your teeth into.

The suit, perfectly tailored, a sharp black with a red tie that caught the light against the pale blue of his shirt. The clear raincoat gave him an edge, its plastic sheen catching and refracting the soft glow from the house behind him. His hair was combed back, deliberate and smooth, and the clench of his jaw softened when he smiled at you.

“What do you think?” he asked, lifting a hand to reveal a plastic axe held loosely in his grip. “I’m Patrick Bateman.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere easy and warm.

“Of course you’re Patrick Bateman,” you said, your smile widening as you stepped inside. Your hand brushed his abdomen lightly as you passed, a touch that felt both casual and charged.

The compliment landed, making Travis pause just long enough to tuck the axe into the pocket of his raincoat. He moved toward you, closing the space between you with an ease that always felt natural. His hand settled at your waist, the leather of your corset soft beneath his fingers.

“Stop it,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in close. “Telling me that and looking this good? Stop it, or I’ll cancel the party and keep you here all night.”

His breath skimmed the edge of your ear, his lips brushing your jawline just enough to leave your skin prickling with anticipation.

“One compliment and you’re ready to throw the whole night away?” you teased, though the slight rasp in your voice betrayed how his closeness was affecting you. You felt his breath near your ear, the briefest graze of his nose against your skin, his lips brushing your jaw. Your pulse quickened. “You’re an easy target, Dunn.”

He chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “Only for you,” he said, his gaze meeting yours. There was something unguarded in his eyes, something that made the moment feel fragile in a way that was achingly sweet. “But don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

You laughed, leaning into the playful intimacy of it all. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

His lips found yours then, the kiss gentle at first, like he was testing the waters. You leaned in instinctively, wanting more, but before you could deepen it, he pulled away. You bit back a groan of frustration as he grinned, oblivious.

“We’d better go, beautiful,” he said, brushing a hand down your arm as if to soothe you. “People are waiting.”

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile. With Travis, things were always easy—except, maybe, when you wanted just a little more.

*

2 a.m. The cab door slammed shut with more force than you intended, the sound reverberating in the quiet street. The driver turned sharply, scowling.  

“I-I’m sorry,” you muttered, your words tumbling over each other.  

Travis, a few steps ahead, laughed without looking back, his shoulders shaking slightly. His keys jingled as he fumbled to unlock the door to his townhouse. The sound dragged on endlessly, the alcohol in your veins making the small delay feel monumental. You stood beside him, shifting your weight from one aching foot to the other, the dull throb only partially numbed by the buzz in your head.  

“Almost got it,” Travis mumbled, his focus unwavering despite your impatient sighs. Finally, the lock clicked, and he pushed the door open with a triumphant grin.  

You followed him inside, the warmth of his home enveloping you like a soft blanket. Without ceremony, you dropped onto his couch, sinking into its cushions with a relieved groan. Your head lolled back, your body both exhausted and energized, the kind of tension only a night like this could create.  

The evening had been perfect—better than perfect, really. For the first time in months, you’d felt free, truly free, as though the weight of everything that had been haunting you had dissolved into the dark, wine-colored sky.  

The party had been at Renzo’s house, one of Travis’s oldest friends. The place was stunning, a sprawling Mediterranean-style villa that practically glowed against the night. Its white stone façade, crowned with red tiles, looked like it had been plucked from a postcard, while spooky Halloween details added just the right touch of whimsy. Lanterns swayed gently on the porch, casting flickering shadows across life-sized skeletons perched on wicker chairs.  

Inside, the atmosphere was even more enchanting. The main room featured a long wooden table draped in black lace, adorned with candelabras dripping wax, decorative skulls, and bouquets of dried flowers that looked both macabre and elegant. Ceramic plates with dark patterns and gold accents glinted in the candlelight, completing the eerie tableau. Guests milled about in costumes that ranged from impressive to ridiculous, every outfit telling a story.  

You’d met a handful of Travis’s friends, all nice and welcoming. And by the end of the night, Renzo handed out an award for the best costume, which went to his brother Eric for his incredible The Mask ensemble. The details were so perfect, from the prosthetic teeth to the vivid green makeup, that no one could deny it was well-deserved—except Travis, who jokingly accused him of rigging the vote.  

The drinks flowed freely, and you’d had more than enough. By past midnight, your feet ached from dancing, but you didn’t care. The music pulsed, and so did you, your body pressed close to Travis’s. His hands rested on your waist, his touch grounding and electric all at once. For the first time in weeks, your thoughts didn’t drift to the things that usually kept you awake at night. Those dark eyes that haunted you in quiet moments, the ache that twisted your chest when you remembered what you’d tried to forget—they were nowhere to be found.  

Now, on Travis’s couch, you laughed uncontrollably as he struggled to string together a coherent sentence. His head rested lightly against your shoulder, and the sound of his voice, slurred and boyish, made your stomach ache with affection.  

“Whatever, you get what i mean” he said finally, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “God, I shouldn't have had that last drink.”

“Oh, you’re terrible,” you teased, reaching for his tie and pulling him toward you until his eyes met yours. “But I had a beautiful night. Please, let’s make it last.”  

Something shifted in his expression—softened, deepened. He straightened, cupping your face as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was different from anything you’d shared before. It wasn’t cautious or measured, the way Travis usually was. This was eager, unrestrained, his mouth moving against yours like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.  

His hands found your legs, lifting them over his lap as he leaned into you. You fell back against the cushions, his weight pressing into you just enough to make your breath hitch. His lips left yours to trail along your neck, leaving a path of heat that made your chest rise and fall unevenly.  

Your fingers tangled in his hair, undoing the careful style he’d worn all evening. He groaned softly at the contact, his face lifting to meet yours again as he kissed you harder, his desire palpable and infectious.  

Your hands moved down to his belt, fumbling with the buckle in a blur of anticipation and urgency. The sound of the clasp coming undone was like a victory bell ringing in your ears.  

But then, suddenly, he froze.  

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice strained as he pulled away, turning his face to the side. “Shit, I’m gonna be sick.”  

You blinked, startled, as he scrambled off the couch and hurried toward the stairs.  

For a moment, you just sat there, propped up on your elbows, your breath coming in uneven bursts. The absurdity of the situation hit you like a wave, and despite yourself, you let out a laugh.

The moment you stood up, your feet wobbled beneath you, betraying the steadiness you were trying to project. The stairs seemed endless, each step doubling before your eyes as if the staircase were playing tricks on you. You gripped the banister tightly, willing yourself not to topple over. The vodka shots coursing through your veins made everything feel both distant and intensely vivid, the sensation disorienting but oddly comforting.  

When you finally reached the bathroom, the door was slightly ajar, the light spilling out in soft, pale streaks. Inside, Travis was hunched over the toilet, his body curled into itself, his face ghostly pale.  

“Oh,” you said softly, unsure what else to offer in the way of comfort. You moved closer, your hand instinctively finding the back of his neck, your fingers brushing the damp hair sticking to his skin. His vulnerability struck something tender in you.  

The sour smell hit you immediately, sharp and invasive, making your stomach churn in protest. But you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on Travis, on the fragility of the moment.  

He groaned softly as his body shuddered, expelling the last traces of that ill-fated drink—the electric blue cocktail he’d downed with so much confidence earlier. You grimaced at the sight but stayed, stroking his back in slow, soothing circles until the worst had passed.  

When he leaned back against the tiled wall, his face glistening with sweat, you reached out to flush the toilet, closing the lid with a gentle finality.  

“God,” he croaked, his voice thin and hoarse. “I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?”  

You laughed lightly, kneeling in front of him, your head tilting as you studied his expression. There was a defeated sort of charm in the way he looked at you, his eyes half-lidded, his usual confidence dimmed by the night’s chaos.  

“Not at all,” you replied, your words softened by the alcohol still fogging your mind. Your hand came to rest on his knee, a quiet reassurance. “Tonight’s been perfect.”  

Travis groaned, letting his head loll back against the wall. “My reputation’s in shambles. Now my pretty neighbor thinks I’m a mess.”  

You laughed again, louder this time, your inhibitions dulled enough to find his self-pity endearing. “You think I’m pretty?”  

His eyes stayed closed, but his lips curved into a smile, lazy and unguarded. “Are you kidding? No wonder Joel Miller hates me.”  

Your laugh faltered, the name cutting through the haze of the night like a blade. You blinked slowly, leaning your head against his knee, letting out a sigh that felt too heavy for the moment.  

“Oh, man,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you have to bring him up?”  

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Travis said quickly, his hand falling clumsily to your back. “Now I’ve really screwed up, haven’t I? I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I pre—”  

“Stop,” you cut him off, your voice quiet but firm. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, his curious eyes watching you closely now. “Are you feeling better?”  

“Much better,” he said, offering a small, sheepish smile.  

You pushed yourself to your feet, leaning against the sink for balance. He followed your movements, standing slowly and steadying himself with a hand against the wall. Without a word, you leaned your head against his arm, closing your eyes as you listened to the soft rhythm of his breathing.  

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, suspended in the quiet warmth of the moment, but eventually, Travis stirred. He touched your shoulder gently, his other hand extended to help you up.  

Downstairs, you collapsed onto the couch again, the effort of descending the stairs leaving you slightly breathless. Travis returned with a glass of water, holding it out with a knowing look.  

“Drink,” he said simply.  

You obeyed reluctantly, grimacing as you took a few sips. “I’m going to have a huge hangover tomorrow,” you muttered, setting the glass on the coffee table.  

“Me too,” Travis admitted, lying down beside you with a heavy sigh.  

You glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s only three in the morning?” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief. “God, I’m old.”  

Travis laughed, his grin lopsided and a little drunk. “I swear I thought it was, like, like five in the morning.”  

You chuckled, but the weight of the night was catching up with you. Your eyes drifted shut, and the world faded into a soft blur.  

When you forced them open again, sometime later, Travis was fast asleep beside you, his breathing slow and even. You sat up, careful not to disturb him, and gently shook his forearm.  

“Hey,” you whispered. “I’m going home.”  

He mumbled something incoherent, his eyes fluttering but refusing to open.

“L-let me walk you home,” he slurred, his head tilting to the side as sleep reclaimed him.  

You smiled at the sight of him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“See ya,” you whispered, the words hanging in the air as you let yourself out.

The cool night air greeted you with a sharpness that cut through the haze of alcohol still coursing through your system. It startled you, a shiver running up your spine as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. You were still drunk, but the world felt steadier now, your feet moving carefully across the pavement as you crossed the quiet street.

In your mind, you conjured the image of your warm bed waiting for you, the soft embrace of your pajamas, and maybe, if you could muster the energy, the luxury of a hot shower. The thought made your body ache for rest, but then you noticed the soreness in your face—a dull reminder of the unrelenting smile you’d worn since you’d said goodbye to Travis.

You were happy. Light. Effervescent, even. The kind of happiness that made you feel untouchable, like nothing could weigh you down.

That feeling lingered as you approached your house, though it faltered slightly when you passed by the Millers’ place. Your eyes were drawn, almost involuntarily, to the living room window. A soft, warm light glowed behind the half-transparent curtains, the kind that could only come from a solitary lamp left on too late. You slowed your steps, your gaze lingering as the sharp memory of Joel’s voice from earlier that evening surfaced.

Authoritative. Abrupt. Unbearable.

The way he’d called Sarah home felt unnecessary, almost punitive. Why had he insisted so forcefully? He didn’t usually mind her spending time with you, so why now? And what if things between you and Joel had soured to the point where he forbade Sarah from seeing you altogether? The thought stung, a sharp contrast to the Joel you used to know—the one who would never have done something like that. You hated that you couldn’t anticipate him anymore. And lately, it seemed like everything about him had shifted, like you were seeing a stranger instead of the man you’d once—

“Are you okay?”

The voice, low and steady, cut through your thoughts, making you jump. You looked up sharply, your heart skipping as your eyes adjusted to the dark porch. Joel was sitting there, barely visible except for the faint gleam of the streetlights reflecting in his eyes like stars as he watched you, his expression unreadable, the faintest hint of concern etched into his features.

You didn’t respond right away. Your brain was scrambling, trying to piece together an answer while simultaneously processing the sight of him. He stood then, stepping into the light just enough for you to see him more clearly—the broad set of his shoulders, the slight furrow in his brow, 

“What... what are you doing here?” you managed finally, your voice wavering slightly.

“Here?” he repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching in what could have been a smile. “I live here. What are you doing here?”

“I live next door,” you shot back, your tone almost defensive. You tilted your head, studying him more closely. “I meant out here. What are you doing outside? It’s late.”

Joel hesitated, his hand brushing the back of his neck in a way that told you he wasn’t going to give you a straight answer. And of course he wouldn't tell you that he'd spent the evening on his couch watching TV, alone, or that he’d been restless all evening.

“It’s Saturday,” he said finally, his voice calm, almost teasing. “Well, Sunday now.”

After having dinner with Sarah, she'd retreated to her room—furious with him for cutting her time with you short—he’d spent the better part of the night sitting on his couch, half-watching some mindless TV show, his attention divided between the screen and the window. Waiting. Then, just as he was beginning to close his eyes, a sharp knock woke him up; the cab door. But of course, he didn't get to see the yellow car because when he got to the window, he only got to make out your body coming through Travis' door, cab long gone. 

When you disappeared inside Travis house, something inside him twisted. Restlessness turned into something heavier, something he couldn’t name, and the next thing he knew, he was on the porch with a beer in his hand, staring out into the night like the answer might appear if he stayed long enough.

You nodded absently, but your eyes betrayed you, roaming over him without restraint. It had been a while since you’d let yourself really look at him. Lately, every glance had been fleeting, clouded with irritation or anger. But now, in the quiet glow of the streetlights, there was no denying it.

He was beautiful. Infuriatingly, achingly beautiful.

Your stomach twisted with the realization, the way it always did when you thought about him for too long. You could try to distract yourself with Travis, with his boyish charm and kind eyes, but it wasn't enough. 

Travis didn’t have those dark, fathomless eyes that seemed to hold every one of your secrets. He didn’t have that nose you loved so much or the lips you’d tasted once and could never forget. His voice wasn’t rough and silken all at once, nor did it carry the weight of every word like Joel’s did.

You hated how much you liked him, how much you wanted him. It was uncomfortable, unbearable, because there was nothing you could do about it. Joel was untouchable now, a door that had been closed and locked a month ago.

“I hate you, Joel,” you said suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. They weren’t loud, but they were steady, deliberate.

His smile faded, replaced by a quiet, thoughtful expression. He nodded slightly, as if weighing your words.

“Do you?” he asked, his voice level, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled faintly, almost amused by the softness in his tone. You shifted your weight, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Do you care about it?”

“Of course I do,” he said, his voice dipping lower with honesty. “But I know it’s not true.”

"Why do you always say that?" you demanded, voice thick with frustration, your arms crossed so tightly against your chest it felt like you might bruise your own ribs. The alcohol in your bloodstream turned every word into a dare, every thought into an accusation. "'I know it's not true. I know you're lying. I know you don't mean it'. What, are you like this omniscient, all-knowing shit—blah, blah, blah?. Didn't it ever occur to you that maybe you don't know anything at all?"

Joel’s eyes softened, his expression unreadable but intent. His hands stayed buried in his pockets, steady while you felt like you were spinning out of control.

"Lately? Yeah," he said finally, his voice low. "I don’t know anything."

The simplicity of his confession, the quiet honesty of it, made you snort in disbelief. You turned your head to the side, looking anywhere but at him, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your thoughts from spilling out unchecked. When you looked back, his eyes weren’t on your face anymore. They’d dropped lower, lingering somewhere around your waist. Probably on your corset, you realized. Suddenly, the fabric felt suffocating. Not painfully tight, but enough to make you aware of every breath you took.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, tone sharp, defensive. And when he didn’t answer, you pressed harder. “What do you want, Joel?”

“Me?” he asked, his voice calm, almost indifferent.

You nodded, daring him to answer.

“I don’t know.” His lips tilted in a faint smirk. “You’re the one standing here in my doorway. Weren’t you just peeking in my window?”

Your mouth fell open. “I wasn’t peeping, dumbass,” you said, fumbling over the words, heat rushing to your face. “I was—”

"Yes, you were," he interrupted smoothly, a trace of a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t smug, not really, but it wasn’t innocent either.

God, it was infuriating.

"Ugh," you groaned, the sound dragged out like it could physically push him away. Your arms dropped to your sides, and you turned your face skyward, exasperated. "Were you always this much of an asshole?"

Joel held back a laugh, his head shaking slightly as he raised his eyebrows at you, his silence infuriatingly steady.

"Okay," he said finally. "You’re drunk."

"Yeah, Einstein," you shot back, your voice sharp and your eyes wide as you threw your hands in the air in mock applause. "You’re finally right about something! Everyone, let’s hear it for Joel!"

You clapped for him, slow and exaggerated, addressing an invisible audience. Joel glanced down, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face before he hid it.

That didn’t stop the memory from rising, unbidden: Clara, her hand slipping into his at the barbecue, her laugh bright and flirtatious, her eyes shining with self-satisfaction. It had turned your stomach then, and now the bitterness came rushing back in full force.

"Do you think what you’re doing is right, Joel?" you asked, your tone sharper than before, slicing through the fragile quiet between you.

His brows knit together, confused, and he tilted his head slightly as if to ask what you meant.

"Do you think you’re accomplishing anything by sleeping with the women in this neighborhood?" you continued, your words rushing out faster now. "I mean, first you sleep with me—oh, the worst mistake of your life—then you sleep with Clara. And what about Sienna? What does she think of all this? You’re a selfish, irresponsible man, Joel Miller, so irresponsible." The words kept spilling, your voice trembling now, laced with both anger and something softer, something that felt like pain. "And as if that wasn’t enough, you’ve ruined us. Completely. And I hate you for that, Joel. I hate you because you’re not the man I thought you were. And i love you so much I—"

Your gaze dropped to the ground, unable to meet his eyes. The tears welled up before you could stop them, blurring the edges of your vision and leaving your cheeks hot.

You hated how raw it all felt. How exposed. And worse, how the alcohol that had loosened your tongue was no longer numbing enough to shield you from the reality of what you’d just said.

Before you could stop him, Joel’s hands came to rest gently on your arms. The warmth of his touch made your stomach flip, and it took everything in you to pull away.

“No,” you said firmly, shaking him off and turning on your heel. But you barely managed two steps before your foot caught awkwardly in front of the other, sending you stumbling.

You yelped as your palm scraped against the ground, but Joel caught your other arm before you could fully collapse. The heat of embarrassment rushed to your face as you stood quickly, brushing off your dress and refusing to look at him.

You marched toward your door with renewed determination, ignoring the sting in your palm and the sound of his voice calling after you.

“Wait,” he said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. 

But you didn’t stop. Your trembling fingers fumbled with the key, eyes fixed on the lock as if opening the door quickly enough could make him—and everything you’d just said—disappear.

The key slid into the lock on your first try, a stroke of luck you hadn’t expected. You stumbled inside, not bothering to close the door behind you. Maybe it was unconscious, or maybe some buried, foolish part of you wanted him to follow. Whatever the reason, Joel did, shutting the door softly as he stepped in, his footsteps trailing after your clumsy, rushed ascent up the stairs. His hand found your lower back more than once, steadying you whenever your feet betrayed you and your balance faltered.

When you reached your room, his presence pressed down on you, heavy and inescapable. Your chest felt tight, emotions boiling over with an intensity you couldn’t contain. The exhaustion—of everything—clawed at your insides, raw and relentless.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, spinning to face him, your palms colliding with his chest in a sharp slap. The sound echoed between you, loud and angry. You hit him again, this time harder, though he barely moved, only stepping back an inch. “Fuck you. Fuck you. You’re a complete asshole, and I hate you. I hate you so much.” Your fists clenched, pounding against him now, the blows strong but harmless.

Joel didn’t resist. He let your fists land where they would, but then his hands rose, gentle and deliberate, catching your wrists mid-punch. The pressure of his fingers around your forearms was firm but not threatening, as if he was trying to guide the violence out of you without a word.

His stillness broke you more than anything could, and the weight of his quiet left you reeling, unsure of what to say next. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why was he standing there, letting you fall apart?

“Say something!” you cried, your voice cracking, desperate and raw.

But he didn’t. His silence stretched between you, maddening and unbearable.

Your vision blurred as tears spilled over, hot and heavy, the release leaving you shaking. Your sobs filled the room, a sound so guttural it startled even you.

“Why did you have to do this to me?” you demanded, your fists still pressed against his chest, though they no longer moved. Your voice broke entirely now, trembling as you added, “Why do you keep hurting me, Joel, why are you acting like this? What did I do to deserve this from you?”

Joel’s breath hitched, his shoulders sinking as if under the weight of your words. His eyes, glassy and red, shone in the dim light. “I-I’m sorry, I'm sorry” he whispered, his voice rough and uneven. “I’m so sorry. Please… please forgive me. I love you, baby, I love you, I've al—”

“No, you don’t.” You shook your head, your voice trembling as his hands left your wrists and wrapped around you instead, pulling you closer. “You don’t.”

But you didn’t push him away. His arms were warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself fall into them. The pain dulled, just slightly, under his touch. You hated him for it. You hated yourself more for letting it happen.

“Yes, I do,” Joel said, his voice thick with emotion.

You wanted to look up, to see his face, to know if the tears in his voice matched the ones burning in your eyes. But you couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek.

Gently, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed. He set you down softly, his hands brushing against your arms as he pulled away. You sank back into the pillows, your gaze distant, your sobs quieting into sniffles.

Joel knelt at the edge of the bed, his hands moving to unlace your boots. He didn’t look at you, his focus entirely on the task, but his face betrayed him. His eyes were rimmed red, his cheeks damp, his expression taut with pain.

Once the boots were gone, you lay back fully, staring blankly at the ceiling as the room swayed gently around you. Your head throbbed, and your chest ached, but the tears had slowed, leaving behind only exhaustion.

The mattress shifted behind you as Joel settled in beside you. He kept his distance, but you could feel the heat of him near you, the tension in the air, a palpable thing you didn’t know how to navigate. You could still hear his breathing, steady but strained.

When his fingers brushed your waist, you stiffened.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice breaking softly. “Let me take that off. It can’t be comfortable, right?”

"No," you answered, and as the corset loosened, you felt a wave of relief rush through you, a softness you hadn’t even realized you needed.

Joel moved the corset off your body in one smooth motion, dropping it carelessly to the floor. Then, he returned to his position, inches away, and for a few minutes, there was nothing but silence between you again.

You closed your eyes, the weight of the night pressing against you, the exhaustion dragging you into a dreamless sleep. But just before you drifted off, you heard your own voice, quiet and pleading.

“Please go home, Joel,” you whispered. “I want to be alone."

He didn’t argue, although you could hear him doubting. Then, you felt him shift behind you, his hand brushing your arm briefly in a gesture that felt almost like goodbye.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice so low it was nearly inaudible.

The door clicked shut behind him, and you exhaled deeply, letting the tears come again, though they felt emptier now, less urgent.

Next door, Joel stepped into his house, the quiet suffocating him as he sank into the couch. The air felt too thick, the walls too close. He pressed his hands to his face, trying to keep himself from falling apart, but it was no use. The despair was overwhelming, a mix of regret, shame, and a self-loathing so profound it left him hollow. And he couldn't help thinking that maybe, it was too late after all. No action or word from him could undo the pain he had seen in your eyes that night.

In the quiet of his own mind, he hated himself more than you ever could. 

-

@nobodyssfool @gigistorm @maryfanson @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @cosmic006533-blog @doblasftcisco @maiyart @concrete-jungleeee @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @powellssaturn @kyloispunk @paleidiot @aceaubrianna @liciafonseca @kaolusha @beeboopski @rosebuds-and-moonlight @the-universe-is-complicated @formulafun @chewie-bars @glizzymcguirex @pedroswife69 @ivoryandflame @dixonswingz @sarahhxx03 @mellymbee @dailyobsession @msmorningstaarr @mystickittytaco @xxreginaxx @marellabyr @spacegirl-3 @alrihhty @heheheilovepedro @svrgs-blog @94namkooksworld @puddles221b @cowboymcflurry @medusaandposeidonshead @stylesispunk @sweatpeakarolinaa @puddles221b @deansimpalagirl @jasminedragoon @lover-of-books-and-tea @whimsiwitchy @cuteanimalmama @theherothesavior @ivoryandflame

[onmyyan]

Cold cases warm faces pt.2

A/n: part two for the lovely anon who requested it, thank you for your sweet words I'm so happy you're enjoying my work!! 🥰 Headcannons and a drabble at the end part one here

Shortly after you're brought to your new "home" a fight breaks out over who gets to feed you.

You sat silent and amused by the situation, after all it wasn't every day you got kidnapped by a group of vigilantes

At first you thought this was a betrayal, thought you'd end up in a box or something worse, but then the argument breaks out and you can't help but grin at the lovestruck idiots before you.

Leaned back, legs spread an aura of confidence pours out from your bound form.

Dick was the first to approach you, crouched down to be eye level with you, Dick smiles at you like you held the sun in your hands.

"I'm sorry about all this- I know you have questions but there's pressing matters to attend to," he rolls up the sleeve of his costume revealing a toned forearm, you could hear his blood flowing, calling your name like a siren song.

Before he could come any closer he was yanked backwards by Jason, the behemoth of a man glared down at his older brother an air of danger around him.

"the fuck you think you're doing Dickie? If anyone's feeding her it's me."

"and why is that exactly?" Tim speaks up, his question on everyone's mind

"Because I'm healthy -"

This argument included everyone but Damien, who amidst the commotion, slits his arm open with his sword, proudly displaying his wrist with gleaming eyes, "Take it." He says quietly, as if the words were only for you to hear.

Without hesitation your lips are wrapped around his wrist, fangs sinking in with not even a flinch from the man before you

After this a schedule is worked out.

You could escape if you wanted to, but you were having too much fun with them all.

Five men fighting tooth and claw for the slightest bit of affection from you

You're dressed in the finest luxuries money can afford Bruce wouldn't admit it but he loves dressing you up , lathering you in gifts

Dick is utterly enamored by you, he love listening to you talk about your past, as long as you don't bring up past lovers of course .

Jason is your lapdog he rarely leaves his side, absolutely needs to have his head in your lap while you speak of anything and everything

Tim studies everything there is to know about your kind because he completely intends to join you in eternity

Although he's not the first to approach you about this subject, that title goes to Jason, one afternoon during one of your many talks, he breached the subject of your maker, someone you hadn't thought about in years.

“It’s difficult to explain to humans. Hell I wouldn’t have understood it 100 years ago,” you paused to lick your lips, scouring your mind for the right words to describe the answer to their question. “A sire bond is kind of unavoidable tethering between a maker and their well, sire.” Jason’s eyes didn’t dare look away from your form, eagerly drinking your word. “If she told me to jump I’d have to ask how high.” Your hands rubbed together, an anxious habit from your human life that hadn’t shown itself in centuries. The mere thought of your maker left you with a complex cocktail of emotions, clearly visible on your face, an ugly feeling settled at the pit of Jason’s stomach, he’d never seen such a look on your face, and for it to come from some woman he didn't know- he forced himself from his darkening thoughts at your sudden movement.

You were now pacing the room, gracefully maneuvering around the space. “For the first few years it’s all but impossible to be without them, it’s like this incessant burn that can’t be soothed without them.” He nodded, all too familiar with the feeling.

"supposedly your closest bond is that of a maker and their sire

"Turn me" your shock couldn't be hidden but he didn't let you sit in it for long.

"I'm dead serious. You're the air in my lungs and the idea of you spending eternity alone don't sit right with me, I've already died once, whats one more time?"

"Jason-"

"I love you- every fiber in my being was pulled into existance to love you. Please let me."

[madamechrissy]

Lucid Dreams

Pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem Reader ( reader is a ghost)

Summary: You died a year ago, and now a really hot Nanami Kento moves in to the apartment you're tethered to. You love to fuck with him, shuffle his papers, knock over his things, but you also love to watch him sleep. One day, he ends up seeing you. And... yep, how do you move on to the next realm? Maybe by getting railed by Nanami!?

NSFW- smut, lovemaking, explicit sex

Word Count- 3.5k- This is just a cute little story I got a request for. (It's literally crack fluff smut) Happy ending don't worrryyy. Just fluffy silly cute shit.🤭

Nanami Kento stepped into his new apartment, it was all redone since you had lived there, what’s it been since you died, a year now? You looked at how handsome this man was, dressed in a suit impeccably, sliding the jacket off to reveal toned, perfect arms. You step closer, and suddenly he shivers, as if he could feel your energy, but there’s no way…

Your energy had been fading lately, perhaps the longer you have been dead the less you have, but something about his presence made it flicker once more. You’d had fun haunting the last couple that lived here, ugh but their love annoyed you, because it’s not like you got any love in the twenty five short years you had on this plane of existence.

You expected heaven or something? Or some other life… but no, you just lingered here, in your old apartment, which looked nothing like it did. You could get down almost out of the building, just enough to stare at the moonlight longingly, remembering what it was like to talk.

You don’t talk, no one would hear you anyway.

Well…

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” You murmur as this blond sexy man rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing toned forearms.

Maybe you do speak?

You watch him every day, for a week, come home and do the same routine, over and over. He takes off his glasses, he sighs, he sets down his briefcase, he sighs, he goes to take off his jacket, he sighs. Yes this man sighs a lot, and pinches the bridge of his nose, exhausted from the long hours he clearly works.

You worked a lot too back in the day, overworked yourself to death, hoping for an early retirement, until someone hit you with a car

Yeah.

Maybe that’s why you can’t leave, you’re still so pissed, when you had to look down at your body, when you had to see your parents cry, before they left and never came back around. You couldn’t see them, no you were stuck here, and you don’t know why, endlessly lonely and bored. But… now?

Nanami Kento is here, and you enjoy his presence. You watched him from the shadows, your translucent form barely outlined against the wall. As the days turned into nights, you observed him with a fascination that flared up deep inside you, watched him as he slept, when his usually stern face would relax. You would always brush his hair back, but then one day you realize something.

His hair moved.

You touched him!? He opens his eyes, and you gasp, hovering over him, and the hazel eyes widen, but then he blinks, and you disappear. Nanami sits up, shirtless and chiseled within every inch of his life, fuck the man is absolutely beautiful, and he’s looking around the room.

“Hey, is … fuck I’m losing it. Is someone there?” You gasp, backing away from the bed then, as Nanami looks around, clearly sleepy and confused.

“Yeah.” You whisper, curious, and he bolts up, and then you see it, the bulge in his boxers, and you flush bright red… can ghosts blush!? Maybe? He was clearly huge, and apparently ghosts can get wet too.

Huh.

“Listen, I need my sleep. Please don’t annoy me.” You’re in shock, at how casual he is, and you laugh suddenly, apparently he notices because he glares. “Seriously, go… do ghost things and let me sleep.”

He’s back in bed, and if your heart still beat, it would thud.

You keep watching Nanami Kento, but now you mess with him, jumbling up his papers, just to enjoy the delight when he would yell at you. You would move his toaster just an inch, mix his spoons and forks, laughing maniacally as he would get so flustered, shifting them back. He is always so meticulous, that throwing him off becomes your new thrill.

On one evening, you watched as he flipped his light switch several times, each attempt to illuminate the living room met with flickering bulbs. You’re giggling as you keep fucking with the lights, clearly annoying this man, and you could feel bad, but he’s so cute when he’s annoyed.

“What now?” He mutters, and your laughter echoed softly in the corners of the room. Nanami’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed in irritation. “You are here again. Can you stop fucking around? Do you need to watch a movie?”

“You’re asking a ghost to watch a movie?” He whips his head again, as the storm outside rages, and the lightning illuminates the room, and suddenly his eyes are dead on you, wide in shock. Your eyes go wide right back. “Fuck… can you…”

“See you. Yep.” You fade away, frightened then, and he reaches for you in a few long steps, gripping your arms. You feel his touch, just like you had when you were alive, hot on your skin. “I’m touching you!?”

“I don’t know how you can even see me.” You whisper, and he just keeps holding you, this six foot something gorgeous man, and you don’t know how you look to him. “Am I ghost like?”

“No, you look like an… alive person. Is this offensive to you?”

You laugh softly. “No, I’m not offended. I know I’m dead. Just didn’t know how I look to you, to me I look the same.”

“You look beautiful.” You freeze, as does he, a blush on his high cheekbones, his lips pursed a bit. “I see you in my dreams. You give me those?”

“No, I wouldn’t know how! Um, you do?” He nods then, and you tentatively cup his face, feeling the stubble on his jaw. “Fuck if I was alive I’d have been simping so hard for you.”

“Simping? You talk odd.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“Not a ghost at least.” Your eyes widen, and he goes to apologize, but you just laugh then, breathless. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe this. Hello, Nanami Kento.”

“What happened to you?” He murmurs and you sigh, looking down, enjoying his touch far too much.

“I was hit by a car.”

His beautiful hazel eyes fill with concern, why can you even feel his warm breath, his body heat? How?

“I'm so sorry. Why are you…”

“A ghost?” He nods. “I don't know. I was a good person, just worked a lot like you. I didn't have anyone too close. I don't think I have unfinished business.”

“That's horrible. Are you stuck here?” You nod. “How often do you watch me. Hmm?”

You giggle at his question. “Not when you're naked. That's not very consensual is it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Your body is beautiful though from what I have seen.” Nanami blushes again, and it makes his cheekbones stand out even more. “Hey don't worry I'm not trying to date, I'm dead.”

He grimaces, he still hasn't let go of you. “Your humor is morbid.”

“Morbid? I'm dead. Duh.”

“Dear lord. Listen how can I help you move on?”

“Tired of me knocking your cups over?” You smirk and he glares down at you. Fuck he's hot.

“I'm very tired of it, yes. But also I'd like to help. What's something you wish you did before you died?” Nanami asks softly and you hum, touching his chest then, feeling the heart pumping blood in his veins, his hard muscles under your palm.

“Wish I worked less and relaxed more. Wish I had a life. Wish I had loved. Fuck my life was depressing…” you frown as you speak, and Nanami studies you seriously. His hands are sliding down your little shoulders, down your slender arms, making you tremble.

“I know how that feels. I could say the same. Well what do you-”

“Can I try something?” You whisper, cutting him off. He nods. You tiptoe, because no you can't float, that's so bullshit by the way, and you press your lips to his, feeling them hot on yours. You moan softly as little sparks float, making you feel alive. He is tense, unmoving. “There, a perfect kiss. Have I moved on?”

He shakes his head, and your breath catches when he yanks you to him by the waist, pressing you up against his hard body. “You're still here,” his voice is husky now. “I've had some interesting dreams.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

“Where you're on top of me in my sleep… where you're sucking my cock and I can't see you.” You blink rapidly, as his words fill you, and he's caressing your lower lip as he talks.

“Oh yeah?” Your hands trail down his perfect abdomen then, feeling it tremble. “Ghost head, huh?”

“In another dream I get you to manifest long enough to return the favor. And you dissappear once you cum all over my face.”

Now you are soaked.

Wait can you still fuck!?

“How rude of me not to ghost cuddle you afterwards.” You grin then and he moans softly, as you feel how hard he is against your tummy.

“How long until you disappear again?”

“I don't know, this is all so weird. Fuck I'll try though.” He snatches you up then, and your legs wrap around his narrow hips, then you're slammed into the wall, and somehow you don't just go through it, your physical form is there, as he holds you up. He kisses down your throat and you cry out, hands in his silky blond hair.

“Nanami!” You whine out, and he kisses down your chest, as you eagerly grind against him.

“Even better than the dream…” His words make you ache, yearn for more, to be real to not be dead. Fuck the life you could have had.

“Nanami I can't. I can't do this. It'll hurt too much having a taste.” He looks at you then, lips parted, big hands sliding your top right off your head. Huh, that comes off?

“Why shouldn't you. It's not fair what happened. How long have you been alone?”

You're crying, and yeah ghosts can cry, those tears are falling and disappearing as they do. “But what if I move on and can't see you again?”

Your eyes lock, as you realize what you're saying. “If it's your time, darling, it's your time. But for now, I'd love to fuck the reason I'm constantly hard. If I fuck you well enough, would you please stop shuffling my papers?” He pouts then, and you giggle, fuck you’re a ghost but you’re giggling, in his arms.

“I promise.” You brush his hair back, as you had so many nights, having watched him sleep, having watched him just existing so beautifully, and now? He could finally see you.

Your lips meet in another kiss, and then he’s sliding a hand to cup your breasts, nipple rising against his hard palm, fuck he’s just so warm, and alive… you errantly wonder if you feel weird to touch. What does a ghost feel like? But when he sinks two fingers up under your skirt (Yep you died in a skirt) and groans-

“Fuck you’re so hot.” You figure you feel pretty good. And fuck if he doesn’t make you wetter than you’d ever been alive, he makes you feel alive almost. But you’re still not tethered to the Earth, you’re only tethered to Nanami.

“Please…” You whisper, and he eagerly lays you on his bed. “Oh shit, I was scared I’d fall through!”

He chuckles. “You’re kinda bad at being a ghost you know.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, you aren’t very sneaky.” He slides your skirt off, kissing up your thighs, and you feel his hot breath where you’re soaked, making your hips rock up. “I saw you a lot of times but I wondered if I was hallucinating. I work too much.”

“You really do. Nanami promise me… you’ll… oh fuck!” He licks you then, right up your slit, groaning against your pussy.

“Promise what, Darling?” He murmurs, and you struggle to remember.

“Oh… promise you won’t- ah - work so much. It didn’t do me any good, Nanami… now I’m dead and-”

“You feel alive to me. You feel perfect.” You’re crying, your little glittery ghost tears, as his eyes, seductive and lidded stare up at you, and he grips your thighs. He laps you up and you fall apart, like nothing you’ve felt before, yanking on his usually perfect hair.

“Fuck, worth dying for a taste of this.” You whisper out, and then he’s got two fingers in you again, working spots you have no clue are there, his mouth sucking in your clit, and you shatter, cumming all over his handsome face.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, and you cum again as he scissors his fingers into you. “Should I say Good Ghost?”

“Both work, shit, shit you’re so good. I wish I’d had you around.”

“I wish I could have met you.” He murmurs, leaning above you then, and your thighs wrap around his hips, as your little hands run up and down his body. Somehow this feels perfect, this feels right. “This is insane, isn’t it? Are you just a dream?”

“No, Nanami… you’re the dream. Maybe there’s something good for me… mnh! Oh fuck.” He’s rubbing his tip along your folds, and you soak him. He’s so huge, and thick, bigger than you had alive, but there’s no pain, just ridiculous pleasure when he slides inside your entrance, his brows together, lips parted.

“Oh fuck… Darling.” You cry out then, gripping him so tight, so afraid how quickly this would end, as he’s kissing you, as he’s entering you, stroking faster and faster, the bed creaking and the headboard smacking the wall. “You feel so perfect. You’re just so, so beautiful.”

“Oh my god!” Was there a god for you? Maybe Nanami was it. As he works over you, as he tears you apart, until you’re spasming around him, sobbing against his neck, as he keeps making you cum, fucking you from one orgasm to the other. “Nanami… mnh.. Nanami!”

“Don’t even… what was… your name?” He whispers, grunting as he fucks into you, and you struggle to remember, what was it? Oh. You tell him, and then he whispers it in your ear, as his cock is steadily slamming into you, against your cervix, so deep you felt you two were one.

“Kento… call me… Kento…” He huffs, slowing now, your thighs are pressed up, and if you weren’t a ghost? You’d let this man get you pregnant.

That’s how good it is.

“Kento! Oh Kento… it’s so good I- ah!” He’s pressing your thighs against your breasts now, groaning as he fucks you so hard, until he slows, and his eyes catch yours in the night.

“Darling, can I-”

“Can’t get a ghost pregnant- ah- do it!” He’s moaning now, and he fills you with a few more pumps, before hot liquid shoots inside of you, and you cum right with it, clinging to him like he’s your life line, rubbing your hips up for more. He kisses you, so sweetly, over and over, and you fall into it, into his arms.

“I don’t want this to just be once. Don’t go.” He murmurs then, and you’re crying now, as he leans down, easing out and making a mess of your cum and his, and you feel yourself fading. “Darling, please.”

“I don’t wanna go either. I don’t.” He’s holding onto you, and you feel it, some odd pull, like you’re being split in a million directions. “I wish I could have known you, Nanami Kento. Please, don’t make my mistake. Just live, okay?”

You see his own eyes glittering with tears. “I feel like I should have known you… you look so familiar…”

“Maybe we’ll meet in another life?” He just sighs, holding you close, and you hum, eyes fluttering shut. Ghosts don’t sleep, right? Why were you… sleepy?

He’s caressing your cheek, and you hum happily. “There were more dreams. Maybe… stick around? We can try them all?”

You smirk a bit, looking up at this beautiful man, one you wish you could have known in your short life. You brush his tear aside, smiling. “You deserve more than a ghost, stuck in the apartment.”

Then you fade.

It was a beautiful time with…

******

You wake back up, in your body and you’re… alive!? You rush to the mirror, realizing you’re in your apartment. You check the phone, and it’s the next day, the day after you died. No fucking way…

You rush out, and bump right into him.

Nanami Kento!?

You look up at him, wide eyed, and he’s staring at you curiously, a little smile on his face, he looks not as tired as the Nanami you knew, is he the same, you wonder? You realize he’s stepping out of the apartment next to you, and your mind goes insane, have you been in a coma, was it a horrible dream?

“Hey there, I’m Nanami Kento, just moved in.” He holds out his hand, and you take it, trembling, and he frowns a bit. “Sorry, are you all right?”

“Uh… no. No I’m not. Do I look familiar to you?” You ask then, softly, and he nods just a bit, a blush decorating his cheeks. Yours joins as you remember vividly, his tongue on you, his cock inside you.

“Very familiar. Do you work at the same building as me maybe?” You shake your head, sighing, and you realize he has his briefcase. “You are familiar but I just can’t really place it.”

“Huh… sorry I’m being weird huh? Should I let you go?” Then you wonder, can you leave this apartment? “Actually. I gotta go somewhere to.”

“Well, come on then.” He tilts his head, pushing up his green framed glasses, and you touch your chest, feeling your heart beat steadily. Was this heaven, was this another dimension?

Then as you all are outside, a car zooms toward you, careening off the busy streets, and you remember, this is when you die.

“Fuck!” Nanami has thrown both of you out of the way, onto the sidewalk, and he’s on top of you, breathing heavily. His eyes go wide then, as do yours. “Oh my god… you were dead in my dream.”

“I dreamt of you… that I was dead… I…” You’re trembling, and he eases off you, helping you stand on shaky legs. “Was it some prophetic dream? Was I supposed to meet you? This is fucking weird. I’m not dead!?”

He chuckles then. “You’re so not dead. I remember it all. It’s like a fuzzy dream though isn’t it?”

“Oh my god. You saved me!” You’re sobbing, and he holds you close, and you feel it all crashing, everything together. You can’t explain shit, except you are supposed to be in this man’s arms. Your neighbor.

“Should we get you checked out? I knocked you on that concrete hard.” He brushes back your hair, inspecting it then. And you just giggle.

“Do you remember fucking me too?” He’s bright red, his nostrils flaring just so, and then he’s dragging you back into the building. “Hey!”

“Fuck work.” He slams you against the wall of the elevator, pressing one too many buttons, as he cups your face, sighing. “You told me not to work to death, I remember it all.”

“This is fucking crazy.” He nods, but he’s kissing you, and oh god it feels even better, as your own heart thuds against his.

“I won’t let you fade away again.” You hear the emotion in his voice, and your arms wrap around his neck. “You were a really annoying ghost.”

“I was good in bed though.” He moans, your tongues are entwining, teeth clinking as you messily kiss, and then you’re in your apartment, ripping each other's clothes off, in a maddening state.

Both of your phone alarms go off, and you laugh softly.

“I was gonna wait a year to relocate.” He murmurs, and your eyes fly open, as you realize what changed. “Something made me leave.”

“I’m so happy. Fuck… do you think ghost pussy is better by the way? I need your expert opinion.” He’s chuckling now, yanking at his cheetah tie, and you stop him, shaking your head. “Oh no, leave that on.”

So you died… but then you didn’t? And Nanami Kento saved you, and he already knows you, he knows where to touch and where to kiss. You all both don’t go to work that day, no, you are going to get some R n R. <3  Somehow, and some way you were supposed to always end up in his arms, it feels like heaven.

[wooahaes]

tender and loving

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x fem!reader

genre: established relationship au. romance.

warnings: reader is in a dress. food. gyu and reader are down bad for each other im afraid

word count: ~1.3k

daisy's notes: the day i actually push myself to write a romance novel w some of this prose its over for u bitches /j

“I thought about bringing a guitar, actually.” Mingyu stretched himself alongside one side of the picnic blanket, propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you, beaming at you as he watched the way the wind fluttered your skirt and rustled your hair. “But I thought it’d be too much.”

It earned a laugh from you as you shifted on your half of the blanket, carefully folding your dress’s skirt underneath your legs so that it would stop flapping against your legs. Thankfully, you had on tights so flashing anyone wasn’t much of a worry, but you were still a little annoyed by the way the fabric smacked against your legs. This spot wasn’t perfect in location, but the company you kept made up for it plenty. Mingyu had made all the food that sat between the two of you now, and lovingly fed you the first bite of whatever you wanted, just to dote on you even further. You had told him days ago that you didn’t want to do anything fancy for your birthday—no parties, no big elaborate dinners, no expensive restaurants… Just the two of you enjoying the day out together. You would celebrate with your friends later during the weekend, but you just wanted to spend the actual day with the love of your life. 

So he woke you up that morning with a kiss and a question: how about a picnic tonight? It was lowkey enough that you agreed easily, and he kissed you again before saying he’d be back after running to the grocery store. He needed to make your favorites, after all. His only request for you was to wear something that made you feel pretty, hence the dress you were wearing now with its flouncy skirt and soft fabric. He was just in a button-up and nice pants, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Simple, but still nice enough looking. When you asked him about it on the drive here, he’d just reached over, squeezing your hand.

“I can’t outshine you today,” he teased with a playful grin. “It’s your day.”

It just earned a laugh from you as you swatted at his hand, only to take it back within your own a moment later. Some days you could get Mingyu giving you the sweetest praise, worshiping you wholeheartedly and lovingly telling you how beautiful he found you. But most days, you had this Mingyu: a silly man who adored you with his whole heart, but felt teasing you like that. The two of you had been together long enough, after all. You poked fun at him, too, when the mood struck you. All of his friends did, so why wouldn’t you? There was an unspoken line between the two of you: if it bothers you, we’ll talk about it and apologize. And you did, a few times back when the two of you were still navigating the relationship. He made a comment that rubbed you the wrong way, you teased him and accidentally hurt his feelings…. Every incident was met with a patient conversation afterward.

“We’re adults,” he had said to you one day, playing with your fingers idly. He always seemed to be touching you in some way, as though he was tethered to you, unable to go too long without reminding himself of that. “Aren’t we? I used to fight with people when I was younger and didn’t know how to talk things out.” He stopped for a moment, fingers intertwining with your own. “I think you’re good for me like that.” 

You had rolled your eyes. “I think your friends did more for you than I did.” 

“Mm. Maybe.” He ran his other hand through his hair. “But I think I’m more patient because of you.”

And maybe he was. He’d taught you to be bolder, to accept compliments better. Mingyu had been good for you, too. Now you just admired him as he looked out at the setting sun in the distance, golden rays kissing his skin and warming your own. Was this it? You quietly began to pack away empty containers into his bag, leaving the dessert aside as you moved to sit next to him. He looked over, watching the way you slowly reclined back so you could gaze at the sky. He shifted next to you, back pressing fully against the ground as he kept his eyes on you. 

For the longest time, you couldn’t define the way Mingyu looked at you. “With love” had been the most basic way you could, because it truly was the simplest way to boil the look down. The tender look in his eyes was unmistakable, especially when he started to smile softly at you no matter what you were doing. He wore a similar look when he was with his friends and family, though: that gentle sense of nothing but love for the people in his life visible in his eyes. At first, you’d had a little bout of jealousy that he could simply love so much. But with time, it grew to be something else you adored about him. Mingyu was a lover, through and through, and it astounded you how much he cared for people without limit. 

But that didn’t change the fact that you noticed he looked at you in this slightly different way. Then one day, it hit you while the two of you were in a museum. He’d been staring up at a piece, his hand holding yours, as he quietly whispered to you about some facts he’d read online about it. It wasn’t the exact look he gave you, but the way he lit up in intrigue was enough to tell you that that was the missing piece. He looked at you as though you were a puzzle he was still figuring out, every day showing him a new detail. Like you were a masterpiece he wanted to understand, brushstroke by brushstroke. The soft look of love in his eyes always carried this need to know every little thing about you and commit them to memory. Was that why he was always touching you? So that he could remember the exact feel of your skin underneath his own? And was why he studied you so intensely on the nights you shared baths together, always pointing out a different little spot or blemish or scar he hadn’t noticed before? Perhaps it was.

Mingyu reached over to take your hand in his own, loosely playing with your fingers as he watched you. “I love you.”

You turned your face, meeting his gaze. With a smile, you curled your fingers around his hand and drew it to your lips so that you could press a long kiss against the back of it. Yet you saw the way Mingyu’s eyes burned into you. He moved so that he could give you a chaste kiss that almost lingered for a few seconds too long. But with the two of you still in public, Mingyu wouldn’t push. Not when there were families around with their kids and older couples enjoying the warm weather. Instead, he just pressed a second kiss against your temple.

“Happy birthday,” he said for the third time today. “Let’s go home. Okay?”

He took the words out of your mouth, and you just giggled as you gave him a quick peck. It wouldn’t be a complete day if you didn’t tease him at least a little. “After dessert?”

He just chuckled, reaching for the container. With a tiny peck against your nose, he answered you with stars in his eyes, “After dessert.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @synthetickitsune @wonuziex @porridgesblog @staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[missmielyhoran]

STOP🫠🫠🫠

[Warning- Angst to Smut to Angst, Grumprry, Jealousrry, Insecure and jealous reader, foul language, unprotected sex (wear condom kids! real babies are not fun), Harry kind of confessing his feelings and him being an asshole as usual, shitty smut, maybe some grammatical mistakes]

Masterlist \\ Series Masterlist

*****

Harry wasn't a very cheerful person to begin with, and it wasn't like he had some childhood trauma that made me him this way no, he was born this way.

He was also the young CEO of his dad's reputable car company. He had to put on a serious face to make a bunch of old shits to take a 27 year old seriously.

Right now, though that wasn't the case for his grumpiness. It was you.

You were away on a stupid work trip to Manchester with Edwin, fucking Edwin! Why was his girl assistant on a work trip with someone else, you may ask? Cause of his stupid ass.

Harry, just a day before the trip, fired the person who was supposed to go with Edwin, and the next person who knew about the project was you and him. Now Harry couldn't go for obvious reason, so you had to go, and he has been chewing on concrete since then.

Adding to that, you haven't been replying to his messages, and when you did, it was a picture of you, in the shortest dress he had seen, and you were not wearing it for him but to go out with that chipmunk!

No messages followed after that, not even a reply to his message. He had to make a fake Instagram account (he hates Instagram) so he could see what you were up to.

He missed you, but he was too much of a grump and egotistical to admit that.

Harry knew he was fucked. Having sex with your assistant was bad enough. If he got into a relationship with you, his reputation would be tethered, and it would cost your job also. He couldn't ruin it for you. He knew how much you loved this job.

But hell he wanted to give in.

You will resume the office tomorrow, and he dreaded going into a meeting without you.

He sighed as people started to fill up the room. The new dealers and his employees who are working on this are also there. Alicia was the one who had to present today, and his temporary assistant was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Casey?" He asked Alicia, who shrugged her shoulders. Harry was on the verge of losing his cool. He doesn't realize how he employed so many incompetent shits but he was about to fire some.

Alicia started her presentation but Harry couldn't focus on it. It was times like this he realizes he's nothing without you. His coffee is shit unless you make it. He hates everyone elses format unless you do it. He hates everyone else unless it's you.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and you were there breathless, in front of door heaving like you just ran marathon. The light coming from behind made you look like an angel. For him, you were.

You walked inside, apologizing to everyone, your heels clicking on the floor. You were in your formal outfit, a long black dress, stiletto, with your hair in a bun. You picked up his water bottle and drank the whole of it and then took a deep breath.

When you looked up properly, everyone's eyes were on you. You gave a sheepish smile and stood beside Harry, "Sorry, please continue."

Harry smiled to himself behind his hands. He looked up at you beside him, your focus on what Alicia was saying and taking notes. You were too sincere for this job. Sometimes Harry himself didn't care that much like you do.

And he doesn't want to fuck that up.

*****

Soon enough the meeting ended and Harry was back at his office waiting for you to come meet him. He couldn't talk or hold you anywhere else other than the comforts of his office cause of the obvious reasons so his office became your secret haven.

When you didn't come in for the next fifteen minutes, he got up and decided to look for you. As soon as he stepped out of his office, he heard your laugh. He walked towards the sound and then saw you leaning on the wall, your hand holding Edwin's biceps, and a big smile strected on your face.

He clenched his fist beside him having all minds to break that bastard's face and then fuck you in front of him but he refrained himself.

He slid his hands in his suit pants pocket and stood up straight, channeling his inner grumpy CEO. "I didn't realize I paid you for laughing?"

Both immediately stopped and turned towards him. You looked at him through lashes a small mischievous smile on your lips.

"Oh, we were just making plans for arriving at dinner party tonight together sir nothing else," you said with a smile. Harry knew what game you were playing, and he would make sure you paid for it later, but right now, he had to make you not go with that douchebag.

"You're my assistant, I need you with me," He said and turned towards Edwin, "I hope the project file you went to Manchester for is complete?" He asked, knowing damn well he hasn't. Along with being an absolute moron and flirt, Edwin was also lazy. If he wasn't one of his friends' cousin's son, he would have kicked him out way before.

"N-no sir, I'm going to do it." He stumbled over his words, feeling scared under Harry's piercing mad glare. Harry hummed, "You better before the dinner, I will need it"

"No yo-" You go to speak, but one look shot by Harry, and you shut up.

"And Ms. Y/N I hope you also get on with your backlogs, I need to discuss something with you so we will travel together" He said holding eye contact with you, his eyes looking darker shade of green than his usual light. You clench, you thighs together, feeling yourself getting turned on by his authoritative voice.

"Yes, sir." You give him a nod, and with that, he starts to leave but then stops. "And make sure you also fill all the recent bank details also," He says, making your eyes widen.

"Sir, there are only three hours left in dinner. My backlog alone will take a lot of time-" You speak, but he cuts you off again.

"Then you better get started, Ms. Y/N" He shoots her a look over his shoulder and goes back into his office.

*****

Harry was being a prick, he knew, but if he had to make you work extra so you wouldn't get to talk to that guy or any guy in general except him, he would.

You like the exceptional woman you are did all that just in time. You were half an hour late, but you did five hours work in just three and half so, he let it slide.

Now he was in front of your house to pick you up. He he wondered sometimes what you would be like on a date. What you would wear, what you would order or how it would end. Of course, he knew your food order on the tip of his tongue, but a date was different.

He was taken out of his daydream by you opening the car door beside him. You sat down smoothing out your slik dress. It was the same color as his shirt, a bluish green shade, and theme of the new project. Your hair tied slicked back with side parting and a soft makeup.

"Your files, sir," you said, throwing all the files in his lap and then turning back around to look out of the window. He bit down on his lips, finding your grumpy attitude amusing.

"Sweetheart, that's no way to talk to your sir," He said darkly, his fingers inching towards the back of your dress. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold fingers on your open back but made no effort to look at him and swatted away his hand.

Harry smirked and pushed the button to roll up the partition, separate driver, and them.

"It's that how it's going to be hm? You know very well what happens to brats baby." Harry said, running his finger up and down your back. He sat more comfortably, spreading his legs.

You sideyed him, your lips in a subtle pout. "We still have to pay Mr. Wilson and make an order to manufacturing comapny"

Harry just hummed and kept moving his hands up and down on your exposed back, making you shiver every time. His cold fingers, in contrast to your hot skin, were excruciating.

"You're one brat, my love and if I wasn't so addicted to you, I would have thrown you out" He said right in your ears. One half of you was turned on, but the other half had one thing going round and round.

"I'm not just a pussy for you to fuck" You said through your teeth and slid a bit away from Harry.

Harry shocked stared at the side of your face. Where the fuck that came from? He was confused, irritated and turned on by your attitude.

He went back to say something, but then Harry's office phone rang, making both you and him groan. Harry picked it up, "What?" he asked.

"Great why don't you also fucking quit while you're at it" He said clenching your jaw, "Yeah then ask your uncle to give your incompetent ass job in his own company" With that he ended the phone call.

"Driver take us to office first then to the party" He said to the driver and then turned to look at you but you had your arms crossed over your chest and kept huffing and puffing like a mad toddler.

"If you don't quit it sweetheart...lord help me" he said, feeling angry at your attitude. He got to see you and have you after so long, and here you were acting like a damn brat. He would have no problem, but you won't even let him touch you!

Harry wasn't a man of words. He didn't know how to express himself. The only thing he knew was sex.

But you just gave him a side eye and went back to looking out of the window.

*****

Both you and Harry arrived at the office. You were still mad at him but also very turned on and frustrated. He was looking damn good in that suit, but you had to be mad and show him you knew your worth or it would all be down to shambles.

Right now, though you were searching for the file you needed for the project that Edwin lost after completion. How? God fucking knows.

"How I manage to have this big company and still hire this many incompetent idiots will be beyond me" Harry grumbled and slammed close drawer, making you flinch in surprise. "Not one task can be done properly"

"Why did Casey not suck your dick good enough? That you're so mad" you said before you could stop yourself.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. He walked towards you, caging you between the wall and himself.

The cat was out of the box might as well...you thought.

You rolled your eyes and looked in eyes, "I said did Casey not suck your dick good enough that you're so mad" You said through gritted teeth.

"Casey? I haven't even seen that woman since I hired her" He said in confusion, not even bothering to think about the rest of the words.

"Don't lie to me. I heard her talking." You said and tried to push him off, but he took your wrists into his hands and brought them to his chest.

"Are you jealous sweetheart?" He asked with a smirk. "Fuck you Harry" you tried to hit him bit failed and stood back against wall huffing.

Harry just chuckled and kissed your cheeks. "How do I know you didn't take the opportunity and fuck that moron. Considering you didn't even bother with my texts" He asked, leaving small kisses all over your face. This is what confused you if he wanted other people. Why did he show you this affection?

"I was mad" you said, pouting.

"Oh sweetheart" He said with an airy laugh. His hands let go of your wrists and gripped your chin to bring his lips to his while the other one went down your body and gripped your thighs.

You hated how your body reacted to his touch. How you got wet instantly like a bitch in heat and Harry took full advantage of that.

He brought his fingers higher up and felt your dampen panties. He smirked against your lips, and you pinched him in annoyance when you felt it, but that only made him moan.

"Don't tease me" You said breathless, your eyes dark like his filled with lust and desires.

"What do you want?" He asked, kissing all over your body and controlling the urge to give you the darkest hickey ever.

"You. In me. Right now." You said with all the authority you had in you. Harry laughed again like he found all this amusing.

How people found this man who cracks dad jokes with you and laughs at everything grumpy and menacing?

He quickly pulled you up on the large table, laying you down. Not only did you have to be quick to be able to reach the party on time, but you also had weeks of pent up frustration.

You pulled up your dress while Harry freed his pants enough to pull his dick out. He slid aside your panties and slid in without any prep.

It was embarrassing.

"Fuck sweetheart you're so wet" he said groaning when he felt you clench around him.

"Missed this-fuck" he said as he started to move. "What fucking me? I don't fucking believe it. I can bet anything you fucked Casey as soon as I boarded that flight" You said whimpering.

He was an asshole but god did his cock feel wonderful. He felt wonderful. He was wonderful but you for him was just a quick fuck.

When you heard Casey talking about how she gave Harry a blowjob yesterday, your heart broke. You had no right to feel that way, he was your boss and you were his assistant and you were fucking him but somehow you tricked yourself into thinking you were something more for him.

"You think I fucked someone else?" he asked fucking you harder making you lose your ability to speak.

"I don't even cum fucking my own hand, you think I will fuck someone else?" He said bringing you up from table by the grip on your neck.

"I-I know it" You said, feeling your orgasm nearing, your eyes rolling back of your head.

"I don't care what you heard Masey talking about but the only pussy my dick has been in is yours" He said bringing you in a messy kiss.

"I was miserable cause you didn't reply to my texts you think I will fuck someone else?" he asked looking into your eyes with so much intensity you lost yourself into them.

"Fucking hell I even hate everyone else but y-" He stopped himself before he could complete his words. The reality slapping on his face hard. But you were too far gone in your ecstasy to care.

Harry also reached his high quickly after you. Your head was laying on his chest as you took long breaths to calm down your breaths. Your heart was beating so fast because of what he said and how hard he fucked you. Butterflies were dancing in your stomach.

It lasted while it could.

Suddenly, he did all 180 and pulled out of and tucked himself in. His demour cold and closed off like like he's with everyone else.

"Get cleaned up" He said and quickly walked out. While you moved towards the washroom to clean yourself up with tears brimming your eyes.

*****

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515 @yeehawbrothers @sleutherclaw @ikea2-0 @thechaoticjoy @astridcommings @grapejuicebluesrry @gxbiqs

He's a dick :(

Like, Comment and Reblog pretty please

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[void-bitten-ghost]

AU with Angel and -urgh- Val, getting married in Vegas. It's the usual last minute thing with Angel doped up to the eyeballs and completely fucked up while Valentino coerces him through the brief but binding ceremony.

Cue the morning after. Angel coming to with a raging hangover and running to spill his guts in the bathroom. It's only when his vision finally clears up that he sees the golden band around his finger, hears it *tink* entirely too loudly against the porcelain toilet bowl.

That's when the reality of his bender cracks it's whip on his back. He can't be fucking married to the guy???? It was only supposed to be a bit of fun???? A bit of excitement and security while he let go. And if, in those quiet moments, he gave fleeting thoughts to maybe possibly getting his feet under him some day, returning home, taking up the family business... well, that was his business.

This though? This fucked everything. This was a tether he absolutely did not fucking want.

He makes a break for it.

Something, something, heel breaking while running through the casino to an exit and crashing into someone. Someone big and imposing and, now that his hidden cards are scattered on the table, fucking PISSED.

But guess who this fuck was playing against?

None other than old Husky boy himself, who, up until that point, had been in some pretty deep shit with this game. He'd been trying to catch the dickhead red handed all night, he just needed the right distraction.

And lo and behold, he got it. Now to get the prick out of his casino without said distraction biting his face off--

That's when he sees the rage in the younger man's face turn sour. A wave of deep, dark fear washing over before panic strikes and he's tripping over the hem of his dress to dip and hide under the poker table.

The prick is gone. Dealt with by Husk's people the moment the illegitimate cards were on the table and he gave the say so.

Then he sees what the young man was hiding from.

A lecherous tower of a creature starts tear-assing his way through the tables like a toddler being forced to eat something it doesn't like. Husk can only lift an incredulous brow at the display, soon dropping his gaze to the bedazzled yet ruined creature under the table who quickly shakes his head.

In a fit of... something. Pity, perhaps. Husk may have dropped his wings just a little bit lower than usual, the tips brushing the floor just so to maybe conceal something or someone. If they wished to hide, that is. Purely hypothetical, of course.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Star City

ectoberhaunt24 day 22- steampunk fandom- dc x dp tw- none summary- Danny encounters a Clockwork wannabe

masterlist ao3 part 3 of TCAB

Danny slept soundly after the wonderful day he’d had. He fell asleep in a nice little ectoplasmic hammock he’d constructed in the woods. He woke up to birdsong and a racoon sniffing at the tethers of his hammock. What a wonderful morning! He couldn’t wait to see what city he arrived at next. 

This dimension was so goofy! All the villains and heroes he’d encountered dressed like they were middle schoolers who’d made their own halloween costumes! Danny could grudgingly admit to himself that Clockwork had been right. This was definitely relaxing compared to his kingly duties.

He stopped by the next city to have some delicious hot dogs for breakfast, and after exploring for a little and finding nothing interesting, he went on to the next town.

As he approached, the sounds of chaos reached him and he couldn’t help grinning. Hopefully this would be another goofy fight. Because this was meant to be relaxing and Danny knew that if he came across anything serious he’d feel the need to help, and that would not be relaxing.

When he got closer he couldn’t help snorting in laughter. There, fighting on a rooftop was a Robin Hood wannabe and a guy in clockprint pajamas wearing what looked like a very uncomfortable clock-like looking helmet.

Yup, this was definitely another goofy fight. He watched as Robin Hood shot arrows at Clockface who deflected them with a sword that looked like a clock hand. Clockwork would definitely hate this guy. Danny would be sure to tell the ghost all about his biggest fan. 

At least the arrows exploded or erupted with sticky slime stuff. Clocky was also throwing grenades that looked like, you guessed it, alarm clocks! It was hilarious and Danny had never laughed so hard, albeit silently without air, in his life!

“You can’t stop me, Green Arrow! Your time has run out! Your seconds have ticked away! You are all out of time! I will be victorious this time, and you will meet your doom!” Clockface laughed maniacally.

“You will never win, Clock King! You’ll be locked up again. This time for an even longer time!” Arrow Boy responded.

Their fight continued, and Danny wondered what he could do. He’d already used his ice, and he doubted Clockwork would do him the favor of letting him use any of the old ghost’s time related gadgets. Hmmm… Danny tapped his chin. What other fun powers did he have? It was always so hard to keep them straight.

He observed the scene again, noting the bags stuffed with money. Below, another arrow exploded covering another section of the roof in sticky slime. 

Aha!

Danny floated down to the money bags and made himself visible.

The men ignored him, continuing to throw arrows and bombs and quips at each other.

Danny frowned. “Ahem!” he cleared his throat loudly. The men still ignored him. Danny put his hands on his hips. “AHEM!” he cleared his throat louder. He was still ignored. Danny rolled his eyes, then flexed his fingers and shot ectoplasmic slime at the two men.

“Ack!”

“What is this!”

“It stinks!”

“What did you do!”

“I didn’t do anything! What did you do!”

Great Ancients above! Were these men so obsessed with each other that they couldn’t pay any attention to their surroundings and the epicness that was Danny!

“Well then,” Danny called out, “I guess I’ll just take this money and go.”

Finally! Finally, the two men looked at him.

“Who are you!?”

“Get out of here, kid.”

“Don’t touch my money!”

“It’s not your money! It’s the people’s”

“But I took it, so it’s mine now!

“That’s not how it works!”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t!”

Ancients above and below! Could they not see how amazing Danny was! He’d encased them in slime! What more did they want!

“Well, since it looks like you too are busy, I’ll just be on my way.” Danny said, levitating the bags of money.

“Hey!” they both called at once.

“Yup. I’m taking it. You can finish whatever this is.” he said, gesturing between the two men.

Danny floated higher up, taking the bags with him. Danny was amazing, and if people couldn’t appreciate that then Danny didn’t have to stick around. 

He ignored the men calling to him and looked around. There on the street were a few police officers. They were chatting amongst themselves and drinking coffee. Probably waiting for Robin Arrow Hood Man to finish up his fight. Danny decided to help them out and flew himself and the bags down towards them.

The officers startled as he came closer but didn’t draw their weapons. They must be used to weirdness, Danny thought with approval.

“Here you go, officers. The guys up there are still quite stuck squabbling.” Danny said, snorting to himself since they were both literally stuck. 

“Well, thanks. Any chance you know when Clock King will be subdued so we can arrest him?”

“You should be able to head up.” Danny said. Then paused. 

He had decided to be a villain in this dimension, and he just ended up helping! He frowned. These officers seemed too nice to mess with. What else could he do?

He looked around and noticed a big sign with a stupid blonde man’s face on it. It looked like a toothpaste advertisement. The man in the picture was grinning and had a speech bubble saying, ‘Queen approved!’. 

That was it! He could vandalize this stupid sign!

He flew up towards it and gave the blonde man a slime mustache, unibrow, crooked teeth, horrible hair, and an eye patch.

There we go! Danny had now completed his villainous act!  He floated back, to admire his work. It might not have been his greatest act of artistry, but it was still funny, and it wouldn’t come off. It was the perfect act of villainy! It definitely deserved a mad cackle.

“Mwahahahahahhahahhahahahhahahahhahhahahhahaha!” Danny cackled as he faded out of visibility.

[atlaculture]

Possible Water Tribe Weddings Pt. 2: Sakha-Style - The Bride-Welcoming Ceremony

I’ve gotten quite a few asks regarding what sort of wedding traditions the Water Tribe would have. This has been a difficult question to answer, as the Water Tribe’s primary cultural inspiration (Inuit/Inupiat) traditionally didn’t have wedding ceremonies; pre-Christianized marriage was simply a matter of moving in together and starting a family. I recommend reading through Mostly-Mundane-ATLA’s blog, if you’re interested in learning more about Inupiat and Inuit culture.

That said, I also recognize that ceremonies can be a great source of inspiration for writers and artists. So I’ll be covering the wedding traditions of the adjacent cultural inspirations for the Water Tribe.

Also, the engagement necklace practice we see in the show is unique to the Avatarverse.

Sakha Pt. 2

Another source of inspiration for me when building up the culture of the Water Tribe is Sakha culture. Sakha people primarily live in Russia's Republic of Sakha, a region located partially within the Arctic Circle. Since Sakha weddings are pretty elaborate and multifold, I'm going to say these are marriage practices are more NWT than SWT.

I'm going to add a "Keep Reading" line for this post, as the process is quite lengthy. I've split the details of Sakha marriage into two-parts.

After the payment celebration party, the groom would pick a day to officially retrieve his wife and take her to his family's home; the young couple would also be accompanied by the bride's family and friends on the journey. At the groom's home, there would be another celebration waiting.

This "second wedding" was to welcome the bride to the groom's home and land. When the couple arrived, there would be a horserace between the bride's party and the groom's party. This was all in good fun, with the belief that the winning family of the race was responsible for blessing the marriage with the most happiness and prosperity. Similarly, if the bride's horse stood straight and alert as it was being tied to the home's tethering pole, this was seen as a good omen for the marriage's health and fertility.

Once the race was over and everyone gathered into the home, the bride would then change into her fanciest dress. Rather than describe what a traditional Sakha wedding dress looks like, I'll just show some examples below:

Once the bride was done dressing, she would stand on a white horse-skin rug in front of the family's fireplace. She would then provide an offering of meat to the spirit of the home, by throwing pieces of meat into the fire. She would also recite a prayer, stating her duties as a wife and asking the spirit of the home to protect her marriage. Everyone would drink horse milk wine (kumis) in support of these prayers. She also must offer a prayer to the spirit of the land. She would do this by tying horsehair to an outside tree near the entrance of the home and praying to be accepted as a new resident of the land. She would then pour kumis mixed with animal oil on to the tree as an offering.

After the bride was done with all of her prayers, family and wedding guests would be free to offer their own blessings to the couple. This was achieved by "feeding" the home's fireplace with offerings of meat and prayers. Everyone was expected to drink kumis after each offering and prayer. These prayers were usually for fertility, health, safety, fruitful cattle, and general happiness. After all the formalities were finished, everyone would feast and partake in kumis. This celebration would last two to three days.

At the end of the wedding, both sides would exchange gifts. The bride's family would give gifts of cattle, fur, and meat to the groom's family. In turn, the groom's family was expected to give the bride's family similar gifts but twice as many in quantity. An especially wealthy groom would give away horses as wedding gifts for the bride's party. Invited guests (non-family) also received gifts from the groom’s relatives as well. Finally, the bride was similarly expected to give wedding gifts to the groom's family as a thank you for welcoming her into their home. There would also be more kumis drinking before the bride's side departed to leave the bride with her new family.

There is also a post-wedding tradition for Sakha people known as Terkyttyy or "coming home". The bride takes a trip back to her family home about three years after the wedding, usually not long after she has fully recovered from having her first child. She and her family would exchange gifts; the expectation is that the bride's family give the new mother bigger/better gifts than what she's giving them. This essentially acts as a post-birth baby shower.

If you're wondering where I got all of this information from, click here.

While I'm tempted to write about the wedding traditions of other northern Siberian ethnic groups, I think I'll stop here for now--- mainly because this is a really time-consuming series. However, if you look at the marriage practices of other Siberian peoples such as Nenet or Evenki, you'll find that their practices fall somewhere between the simplicity & practicality of Chukchi weddings and the spirituality & ceremony of Sakha weddings. I think this is due to many Siberian ethnicities being culturally and ancestrally a mixture of Turkic and Indigenous North American. But this is just a theory of mine, so feel free to correct me if I'm totally off the mark.

Anywho, I think Chukchi weddings feel more SWT while Sakha weddings feel more NWT, since the Northern Water Tribe is more spiritual and patriarchal. However, I also think you could mix some of these traditions together for either group, since they are "sister tribes". After all, the Fire Nation's wedding traditions certainly aren't from one exclusive culture.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

[leclsrc]

wake up babe its # leclsrc3000 time... can we get a breathing deeply and bouncing legs for some wedding vibes w/ charlie (We being me and my 4 cats)

test run – cl16

Filled with nerves, Charles asks for advice on his vows.

auds here... i would love to see the cats <3 hope u like this!

“Okay.” Charles fiddles with his tie, blinks a few times, and takes a few nervous breaths. He’s confident in the words, but still his eyes find refuge on the tattered, folded-up script he’d spent the plane ride over reading and scribbling to perfection. “Okay, here goes. Don’t judge with the edits.”

“Do you remember when we first met—you made fun of my parking, and I bought you a coffee, and we stayed in the café until it closed at midnight? The coffee was shit, but I was full of energy all the same. If I told myself then I’d be marrying that girl, the parking bully who joined me in making fun of the coffee, I’d be shocked, yes. But I would also be happy. Everyday I get to be with you is shocking, because you’re the best person I know. But there are a few things you—and a lot of people in the crowd—don’t know about how we met.”

He gulps and reads over the lines for a bit. “For starters, I wouldn’t have parked outside that café if Lorenzo, my brother, did not pester me to get him a croissant at nine in the morning. And he wouldn’t have wanted the croissant if Pierre, my good friend, didn’t post a picture of a croissant the day before. And Pierre wouldn’t have posted that picture if he was not gifted a box of them by Lando. I could go on and on, but the sentiment stands, in a sort of soulmate roundabout way. I was destined to find you.

“It’s difficult for me to say the words I want to say, which is why my reception speech will be in Italian.But this doesn’t mean I don’t love you—in fact, I’m convinced it means the opposite. My love for you, however new it is in my life, can last me my next five lifetimes. I love our crazy days together, I love your coffee order, and I love that you still bully my parking. I love you, my dearest.”

He stares at the last two words, my dearest, which he’d written last minute. As he does, he realizes his knee’s bouncing with nerves and he has to manually stop it, lost in thought. It reminds him of all the nicknames he uses for the people he loves, unique and a bit silly, but it’s a trademark of who he is in the end. It reminds him of kisses and love and the proposal in late November. 

Two heavy inhales and exhales, then he looks up. Across him, in a bridesmaid’s dress holding a bouquet of lilies, you allow yourself to smile.

The stunning realization that you’ve loved much too late, that you’ve realized the gravity of your feelings on somebody else’s wedding day, hits you, a spear to the back. You turn slightly and face the window, watching the wedding prep on the lawn outside, trying with quiet desperation to blink your tears away. You hope he doesn’t ask too many questions, because you’re short of words; selfishly, all you really feel like saying is stay. It was a long time ago, being in love with him. But he let it go. It’s you who’s still tethered.

He comes up beside you. “Was it good?”

“Amazing. She’s going to love it.” In the pain and the haunting and the regret, you only wish you were lying.

[feudalconnection]

The Nomination Period for the 1st Term 2024 Inuyasha Fandom Awards is now CLOSED!!

Hey everyone!

Below the cut you'll find a complete list of all of the Fanart nominations received for this term! You can also find it on Google Docs.

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In order to be able to vote, you'll need to register so we can keep it all neat and clear. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.

Got a question? Check out our FAQ or send us an ask. You can also message one of the mods directly!

Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this 1st Term absolutely wonderful, and happy voting!

Best Action/Adventure

“Versus the Demon Lord” by @amara-sessh

“Fighting some demons at night” by @marycrispies

“Tethered” by @rinshairandthoughts

Best AU/AR

“Untitled” by @florsdellunalluna

“Sense and Sensibility” by @kalcia

“Kagome the Princess of the Wolf Tribe” by @dudiinx

“Sailor Moon Crossover” by @valgreys

“Moonlight” by @dudiinx

“Untitled” by @hycopank

Best Canon Universe

“Naraku” by @lady-lin

“Keep You Safe” by @nartistadigital

“Cuddlebugs” by @feudalobo

“Casa” by @pachworldx-1

“Untitled” by @fishybehavior

Best Angst

“Untitled” by @liquidashesart

“Spirit Run” by @classysassy9791

“distance makes the heart grow fonder” by @elevenharbor

“Cupid in love” by @pachworldx-1

Best Dark

“Nextlahualtin” by @moonkissedart / MoonKissedA (AO3)

“I just want your heart” by @akulols

“Inuspiration” by @stardust414

Best Humor/Parody

“Zoomies” by @purpledemonart

“Finish him” by @generalmoony

“Untitled” by @tiroma-art

“Izayoi’s Expressions” by @tmetta

“Fish Eye Lens SessNara” by @devilatelier

“Untitled” by @mama-ino

“All Dressed Up” (art in story) by @rinafananditshows

“Get Along Shirt” by @jane-imes

Best Kiss

“Beast in the Basement” by @kalcia

“Moonlight” by @dudiinx

“Untitled” by @dekirufran

“Fireworks” by @xtaisanax

“Untitled” by @inumysuzue

Best Character

“Shippo” by @nartistadigital

“Blue Moon” by @len-barboza

“Inuyasha” by @stoneofmaya (X, formerly Twitter)

“琥珀. Kohaku.” by @toutousai

“Kagome Stained Glass” by @razdazberry

“Kouga” by @gantzfelt (X, formerly Twitter)

“InuKimi” by @anime093se

“Waiting for Him” by @alicepupurred

“Nighttime Ride” by @classysassy9791

“Untitled” by @justafewsmallsteps

Best Duo/Pairing

“KogKag romantic blizzard” by @razdazberry

“Sango and Kagome” by @fuko-sshi

“Mommy and Daughter Time” by @katballesteros

“Miroku & Sango” by @xmonday-mintx

“Destiny in their veins” by @alicepupurred

“Here’s my girls” by @justafewsmallsteps

“KaguKik” by @moonnueart

Best Doujinshi

“distance makes the heart grow fonder” by @elevenharbor

“A pupper tryin to be like her dad” by @briizer

“Family” by @heavenin--hell

“Way of the House-Demon” by @lucymorningstar257

“InuKag Week Day 6: Courting” by @jess-oui

Best Redraw

“I Understand” by @len-barboza

“Manga Redraw” by @heavenin--hell

“they were the blueprint” by @badanaday

“Inktober” by @tealybopper

“Inuyasha & Kagome redraw” by @midiatamente

Best NSFW

“Dearest” by @xtaisanax

“Red #40” by @brain-rot-hour / GoblinOnAHorse (AO3)

“Deck the Balls” by @brain-rot-hour / GoblinOnAHorse (AO3)

“Inuyasha dragon au (second picture)” by @moonkissedart / MoonKissedA (AO3)

“Fun at Sea” by @spiralofdragon

“Happy Valentine’s Day” by @jane-imes

Best InuKag Romance

“Eternal Gift” by @clearwillow / BrigidTheFae (AO3)

“Untitled” by @dellmain

“Domestic” by @rubbesart

“Untitled” by @shizuki502

“Untitled” by @actiasz

Best SessKag Romance

“the night before Christmas and there was only one bed” by @stardust414

“Untitled” by @stellesappho

“Sesskag Festival Day 1 - Rejuvenate” by @julytheartist

“Tokyo Tower” by @julytheartist

“Thy Mate” by EnchantedInk_AG (AO3)

“Sesshoumaru. I love you” by @inumysuzue

“Untitled” by @kiliinstinct

Best Romance

“kohaku & rin - they're cute together” by @elevenharbor

“KogKag romantic blizzard” by @razdazberry

“Falling for You” by @eliza-faust-diary

“KagSan” by @moonnueart

Best Group Depiction

“Overcoming the past” by @valgreys

“Baby Inu with his parents” by @eliza-faust-diary

“Un moment de tranquilitat a l'època Sengoku” by @mmezo

“inuyasha! 🌙” by @eggramenart

Best Fluff

“the night before Christmas and there was only one bed” by @stardust414

“Starry Night” by @katballesteros

“Baby Inu with his parents” by @eliza-faust-diary

“SessKag as Kids” by @ivii20

“chibi” by @ivii20

Best Overall

“His hair makes me so happy” by @devilatelier

“Kagome Stained Glass” by @razdazberry

“Thy Mate” by EnchantedInk_AG (AO3)

“Untitled” by @lilacfoxarts

“dancing in the moonlight” by @masitadibujante

“Nighttime Ride” by @classysassy9791

[l-lend]

This is part of the @cloneficgiftexchange. The person I got was: @captainpains

I hope you enjoy some Victory Ball AU with Captain Rex

Prompt used: "You think you're hilarious, don't you?" "Yes, yes I do."

Warning(s): a touch of angst if you squint, fluff, shenanigans

Word Count: 836 Words

@locitapurplepink, @burningfieldof-clover, @writing-positivelyexisting, @rain-on-kamino

Your bottom lip remained captured between your teeth as the speeder came to a stop. The building looming over the city streets twinkled in the night. A beacon for personnel to gather while dressed to the nines. A hand curled around yours, smoothing over your knuckles.

“Ready?”

“Rex, are you sure?”

The captain's smile offered slight relief to your nerves, “I'd have the pleasure of escorting no one else.”

The corners of your lips twitched as your cheeks gained some warmth. Your free hand tracing over the fabric of your formal attire. The door slid open with a whispered hiss. The low hum of chatter from the sea of dress uniforms accented with their partners for the evening wrapped in shades that match the colors typically adorning their armor.

He extended his hand to stabilize your ascent. His gentle grip a tether ushering you into the bright lights and décor. Once inside, the air carried an electricity of restless troopers charged up from crowded flights to Coruscant and enough spirits to drown a sarlacc.

“Where t-”

“Rex!”

If they were not out in the open, the captain would have attempted to drag you away from the grinning trooper closing in. The captain sighed and swept a hand over his close kept blonde hair before the other trooper was in ear shot.

“Cyare, this is Arc Tr-”

“Just Fives is fine,” He greeted, extending a hand for you to shake.

His smile growing as his eyes went from your face, to the captain's and back to you.

“So this is the lovely creature that has the captain's eye.” Fives chuckled, “Thanks by the way. Rex would let us go early any time you called.”

A giggle slipped past your lips at taking in Rex's pout, “Glad I could help.”

“He's got good taste. You look better in our colors than we do.”

Rex's arm curled around your waist as he eyed his subordinate, “I couldn't agree more.”

Footsteps skittered against the polished floor. The soft squealing of dress shoes on the surface in an attempt to slow down.

“Fives!” huffed another trooper, “Hardcase...trying to...outdrink...big guy...from 99.”

The arc trooper raised a brow, “This I gotta see,” He shot a parting grin, “You two have fun, alright?”

The pair of troopers took their leave with Fives launching a two fingered salute. The captain shook his head with the hint of a chuckle as soon as the pair of troopers were out of earshot.

“They'll be the death of me.” He murmured, soon offering a smile.

“Shall we?”

With your own smile creeping across your lips, you crossed the threshold entering a space set aside for the main event. The dance floor changing hues as droids adjusted lights to music. A throng of troopers and dates alike crowded the floor. Dances ranging from sweet and chaste to motions that would be provocative even in the confines of clone bars.

Music cut through any dance floor chatter as another song began. The clone captain studied your expression. Your glances to what drew your attention; that sparkle in your eyes he never tired of. When you turned your gaze back to him, his hand swept out to the floor before you.

Your hand slipped into his, surrendering to the undertow of the dance floor. A hand cradling your lower back as you both found place within the rhythm. Your features creasing as he moved. Never once jostling you despite the movements of other dancers. You closed the distance. Your free hand inching higher along his shoulder.

“You think you're hilarious, don't you?”

He chuckled, “Yes, yes I do.”

Your pursed your lips, “You said you couldn't dance.”

“Thought I'd surprise you.”

“So was it Jesse or Commander Tano that was your practice partner?”

“...General Skywalker called in a favor with Senator Amidala.”

The sight before of the calm and composed captain of the 501st Legion avoiding your eyes, warmed your heart. However it was the dusting of along the tips of his ears drew you closer until your lips graced his cheek. A gesture that was chaste, but also a spark which could light an inferno if left unchecked.

“Pulling out all the stops tonight? I'm honored.”

“It's a special night.” He replied, continuing his guidance in your own section of the dance floor, “The galaxy and my brothers are safe.”

The warmth in your chest unfurled like a slumbering loth cat prompting you to reorient your arms to envelop him: A clone who had seen unspeakable horrors on the battle field, yet refused to let the life he never asked for turn him bitter and jaded.

His hand began a soothing circuit along your back. Fingertips barely making their presence known.

“You alright, Cyare?”

You looked to him; his feature twisted in concern. The lights of the venue seemed to cast him in a halo.

Your lips crashed onto his. The embers resting in your chest roaring to life. Much too soon, lips parted for air.

“I'm glad you're here.”

[vacantgodling]

#34: Elodia Pesante

The only part about being a martyr that is left to be desired, is being properly buried. Without that grace, your spirit cannot pass on. Tethered to the place where you died, you cannot blame your companions for being unable to save you. But grasses and roots have already begun to tangle over you in this magic-laden place, and you fear perhaps, that you will be doomed to linger here forever; for even The Lady of the Mists does not traverse here. Your hope comes in the form of the tears of one who does not know you but weeps—and for their compassion, you suppose you do not mind granting one last favor.

“elodia” means foreign riches. “pesante” refers to heaviness when speaking musically. quite the juxtaposition as elodia herself is quite light on her feet.

age at time of death: 34, cis female (she/her), romance: yes, sex: yes, preference: no preference, anything goes for her

though in helix’s entry i mentioned her whereabouts are unknown, this is mostly in reference to her body though most do not know she’s dead. however, she has defininitively passed on, but no one has been able to bury or recover her from within the labyrinth. for this sake, her spirit still lingers, as only the buried can pass on.

in life, elodia was a sunkissed woman of about 5’4” with curly light blue hair and soft lavender colored eyes. she had freckles and beauty marks all over her body and long lashes that naturally had a bit of a curl to them. many said that she looked somewhat dreamy and ethereal, and if she came to your bedside to aid in healing you it was like being visited by an Oracle in a dream. as a spirit, elodia’s skin has flushed to a paper white and her eyes have lightened until they are nearly white as well. she is a quiet spirit, tethered to her remains and unable to move any further than a few feet from them. its a painful reminder of what happened to her, though she doesn’t regret it.

a MEDIC in life, elodia was greatly interested in the study of longterm illnesses especially caused by labyrinth exposure and before becoming a field medic, spent much of her time at silverkeep working directly with patients who would come there seeking aid. her research books were lengthy and extensive, and are still referenced to help identify all sorts of labyrinth ailments though they are unfortunately incomplete. she left to get more detailed research and after passing guild examinations, she was placed on the second AGoE team, with jihi, helix, charissa, and altair. she was happy to serve as their medic, though she has always been a worrier especially after charissa and altair who tended to outdo themselves for the sake of it.

elodia had a soft charm to her, a girl next door type but she was also unwaveringly kind. she would think nothing of it to do everything she could for even a perfect stranger. from a young age she was interested in helping others and medicine because her mother was quite sickly, so she was always the “nurse” from a young age. despite this, she is much stronger than it would appear. she is unflinching in the face of death and destruction and can perform necessary but gut wrenching treatments such as amputations without batting an eye. she just wants whats best for the world but she understands that there are sacrifices that must be made to help others—which is what helps her spirit finally be free later on in the plot.

3 fun facts about them: despite her cool-toned palette, elodia is actually quite fond of warm browns, pinks and frilly dresses. some say she is near unrecognizable when she steps out of the hospital because the way she dresses is so different. she’s an avid reader and always had a pile of to read books hidden under her bed at both the dorms of silverkeep, to her bunk in the AGoE. she hates alcohol so is always somewhat of a “designated carriage driver” when she and her team would go out. however, she would absolutely let them feel the wrath of any bad decisions they made the night previous despite knowing at least 7 hangover remedies.

[phoenixduelist]

An updated version, it isn't really inspiration, more like discovering her in other characters:

Levi Ackerman from Attack on Titan: a testament of her godlike level of swordsmanship (imagine how terrifying she would be if she had the AOT gear-), near inhumane resilience and the lengths she would go for the ones she holds dear. Unlike Levi, ultimately she can't hold onto her humanity when facing losses. A few of her moves were modeled after his, especially her calculated whirlwind leaps and more elegant cuts.

Khan from Star Trek Into Darkness: now this is where things start getting interesting, uncanny and riddled with creative cruelty, determined vengeance, seamless manipulation and looking like a sleek predator while doing so. Here's a post where I've made a brief comparison & a video which never fails to give me chills and go: Yeah that's The Devil in her full bloody glory. Yet just like him, she is still capable of genuine care: ‘My crew is my family, Kirk. Is there anything you would not do for your family?’ sounds exactly like her.

Loki, mostly Thor the Dark World characterization: This woman can't die. And when she does, she doesn't. She manipulates, tears people apart with just words and take her utmost delight in doing so. While she doesn't lie out of pride, there are still way too many similarities regarding mentality to body language. The double, triple crosser, the already fearsome negotiator with acerbic wit and always two aces up her sleeves.

Azula from ATLA: after two songs and a deeper look into her; Azula embodies Rozália's viciously brilliant intellect and combat experience. The striving perfectionist secretly clutching at the remains of her sanity. Being almost untouchable in combat but her greatest enemy is herself. This has officially convinced me to put Azula here. Along with the thought if I ever make an Avatar verse, after the dungeon Rozy is only capable of bending electricity & blue fire due to her shattered mind.

Yuzuru Hanyu: Two times Olympic Champion, at least 19 record breaker and regarded as one of the greatest figure skaters ever lived; he is how Rozy sees fencing & swordplay. She is a very graceful, elegant fighter and not above some extra flair for the fun of it. She firmly believes what she does is a form of art at her level. I narrowed it down to two performances. Airy, elegant, yet powerful and making a statement at the same time.

Michael Flatley: Lord of the Dance. He is also tied to her fencing skills and showoff nature, along with a glimpse of her personality beneath all the blood, gore, grime and suffering. She's playful, tethering on arrogance, her footwork is nothing short of insane. And her wardrobe is definitely taking more after the Spanish, she is not above dressing almost as a Matador and strut around on English colonies.