#spilt a drink on myself TWICE

[bangelism]

morning after my first work christmas party. i can’t remember half the shit i said. but i know i am mortified and cannot ever enter go back to work again.

[ddejavvu]

the force is strong with him

pairing: darth vader x reader

summary: various ways vader manipulates the force around you

cw: smut - minors dni, toxic relationship (it's literally darth vader), improper use of the force, sensory deprivation/overstimulation, manhandling, don't like, don't read.

happy indy day @hanasnx !!! okay i know i'm a bit late (for your time zone, at least) but uhhh. i was watching indiana jones and building legos okay i promise i was thinking about you the whole day. anyways vader is sexing you soooo hard for your birthday. so so hard and mean.

You are so much more, so much different than a partner to Vader. You're allowed autonomy, of course- what you eat, drink, wear, read, watch is up to you- provided the outfits are selected out of the closet he stocks for you, and the meals are taken at his right hand. But in the desolate grey walls of your lover's in-progress battle station, nothing but vacuous emptiness beyond its walls, your autonomy has merged with his own complicated being, and more often than not you find yourself being directed by the invisible Force that guides his life.

He strides a half-step ahead of you down the halls, but a tight ring of pressure still encompasses your bicep - he's got you in his grasp, even if there's a disconnect between the bruising force around your arm and his curled, leather-clad fingers. He makes elegant, sweeping turns, and you do the same only because he makes you- he's still holding tight to your arm with the Force. If you tried to keep going straight, or turn the other direction, your arm would be separated from its socket.

You obey; the joint stays in tact.

He is particularly fond of nudging you aside with the Force. He doesn't need to - he could wait for you to catch on that he's trying to move past you, or he could simply shoulder you out of the way with his broad frame. But instead an invisible wall bumps into your left side, and you stumble to the right as it prods you sideways, making enough room for the black-clad figure to sweep by.

It doesn't matter if you huff and puff at him, 'I could have moved myself, y'know!' or if you stutter out apology after apology, 'sorry-!', he answers it the same each time. A silent, head-on stare from a menacing mask with no eyes.

Being regarded by your lover is as terrifying as feeling the Force suck the air out of your lungs, and you endure both. A thrill shoots up your spine whenever you hold eye contact with the mask, and Vader is more than happy to stare at you for as long as you'll be stared at. Blinking does not shift his attention; it is a staring contest that cannot be won. Only continued, prolonged, dragged out until your eyes flit elsewhere, and his remain fixed on your figure, watching, always watching.

He doesn't often need to restrain you- who would dare make that mistake twice? - but he does catch you once, only once with his lightsaber.

It had been set carefully aside for your lover's stint in the bacta tank, and you'd stolen it away to your chambers to inspect it. You've always seen it at his side- never out of its holster unless it rested in his black leather grip, and it's been intriguing to you since the day you'd seen it. You'd never gathered the courage to touch it before, though, not until you were confident you could squirrel it away while Vader was unconscious.

The hilt is heavy and cold in your hand- so heavy, so cold. You know the blade inside vibrates with plasma as hot as the fire that had warped your lover's skin, but it feels so soul-suckingly frigid that you're amazed it's ever been used. It's the weight of a thousand kills, the crimson of gallons of spilt blood, and it rests heavily in your hands.

You're only aware of the footsteps steadily pounding towards you after you're frozen in place, limbs suddenly locked- tied with zipties that can't be cut by your mortal hand.

Vader doesn't lecture you- not right away, at least. Instead he thumbs the triggerplate of the saber in your hands with one finger of the invisible hand that's holding you still, and the red blade hums to life mere centimeters from your face. The heat stings at your skin like a swarm of wasps, itchy, tight, hot stinging. It paralyses you only further, and your eyes yearn to widen where you're being held as a statue.

"That is what a lightsaber feels like when it is an inch from taking your life." Vader rasps, his voice mechanic and bone-chilling, "I urge you not to find out what happens when that inch disappears. I will take it away myself if you dare handle my weapon again."

He snatches it away from your grasp, but your hand is still trapped in his cosmic grip, molded perfectly around the hilt of his blade.

"See to it that you do not make me kill you." He speaks plainly, robotic voice inherently devoid of emotion as he towers over your frozen form, "I would not like to spend time replacing you."

Vader's insertion of the Force into your life is present even in sex. Sex with Vader is convoluted, something he enjoys very rarely in its traditional sense. But to reward you for your unfailing loyalty and obedience, you're pleasured quite often, and Vader revels in manipulating the Force around your body.

Sometimes it is merely that invisible hand prying your thighs apart, dipping into the wet warmth of your cunt and spreading you open for him to see. You're sure it's an obscene view, your cunt bared and open and hollow for him to watch as it expands and contracts around a girth that isn't there.

Other times, however, it is darkness, it is the absence of sound, it is the emptiness of floating in a void of your lover's creation. He steals your senses, takes your sight, your sound, your touch. He isolates you in your own body, you can no longer feel the sheets beneath you or hear the rustle of them in your fingers. All he lets you hear is the raspy rhythm of his respirator, not even your own sounds.

He does it because the less you can hear of yourself, the louder you become. You're sheepish to scream when your own ears pick up the sound, but when he blocks it from your senses, your shouts reverberate around the desolate grey walls of your chambers and each one fills up a meter of satisfaction inside of him that he didn't know was still active.

All he lets you hear his him, all he lets you feel is him.

Sometimes he leaves you in the void- all sound and sight and touch absent - for minutes. Sometimes it is an hour, until the surface of your skin beads with sweat and your brain itches desperately for sensation. Then a finger that isn't really there- that's just an extension of the leather-covered one that your lover is holding out beyond the inky blackness of your consciousness - plunges into your cunt, and the only sense you can feel is the penetration. After minutes- hours of feeling nothing, that single thick finger dips past your slit and shorts out the neurons in your brain. It is everything, it is something after nothing and it is Vader watching intently with that permanent stare that you can never escape.

It is touches far too few in quantity that make you squirt and writhe like you've been fucked within an inch of your life. It is something mysteriously disembodied tweaking at your perked nipples, something phantom putting pressure against your clit.

It is Vader, and it is the way he merges his autonomy with yours as a reward for your unfailing loyalty and obedience. You serve him and now you are granted a space within his person- budge over there below his mechanized lungs, settle into the weary cage of his ribs, stay a while.

[selfdiagnosedeyemotif]

“So... cold...” 

Trousseau’s voice sounded pained, efforted. He clutched at his bleeding side, head bowed. His white hair was stained crimson, his face splattered with poison and blood. 

“I’ve watched so many die... Time and time again...” 

He chuckled weakly, shoulders trembling. Castti could only stare, only watch in horror as the one she once called a friend died slowly before her eyes. 

“So this... is what death feels like... Of course. This is it... Salvation.” 

The look of relief on his face was underlined with pain, with something akin to sorrow. Somewhere deep down, Trousseau didn’t truly want to die. 

“Trousseau...” Castti began. But what would she say? That she was sorry? That she had well and truly hoped that they could be friends again? 

Trousseau only looked up at her, his eyes pale and far away. The blood on his cheek had started to dry, cracking and darkening against his pale skin. He had always looked sickly... 

“How’s it feel, Chief? To take a life?” He asked, and Castti felt sick. Her hands tingled and burned where Trousseau’s blood had spilt, her axe clattering to the ground from a slackened grip. 

No, she decided. She refused to allow this. Apothecaries were not meant to take lives. 

“I’m afraid I won’t know the answer to that,” she answered, sinking to her knees in front of him. She would have to act quickly if she wanted to keep the already-fading poison from infecting his wound. 

Trousseau fell silent as she started pulling at his robes, but complied nonetheless. Lifting his arms so she could peel off the outer layer, then dilligently keeping them raised so she could work without hinderance. 

“...Why are you doing this? Why won’t you let me die? I’m worthless anyway. I’ve killed so many, who’s to say I won’t kill you, too? I’ve already tried twice.” 

Castti looked up briefly from his wound, already dressed and halfway bandaged. She felt numbness starting to creep into her fingertips, the black swellling aching deep in her bones. 

“Because I will extend a helping hand to all in need.” 

Trousseau looked away, eyes shining. 

“...I know the cure to the poison,” he said, and Castti paused, the bandages wrapped tight around the wound. The fact that she caused it still made her feel ill, perhaps made worse by the poison in her system. 

“You... What?” 

“I know the cure, Chief. Please... Let me help you. Let me extend my hand one last time.” 

Castti nodded, and Trousseau shifted, one hand gripping his coat tightly. 

“Purebalm, scalebark leaf, skybalm, santanejo nlossom... And snowdrop petals. Those should create a cure for the poison. Please, Chief... Test it on me. I want to be the first to know if it works. I know it’s a selfish request, but please.” 

Selfish? No. Not selfish. Dangerous. Much too dangerous for someone in such a fragile state. 

Castti shook her head. “No. Not in your state, your condition is too unstable. I’m testing it on myself.” 

“If it doesn’t work, kill me,” Trousseau responded, and Castti paused. She hated how he made her hesitate, how he stunned her constantly. She needed to act fast, and he was hindering her. 

“I won’t,” she said, and Trousseau leaned forward weakly to grab at her axe. 

“Then I’ll do it myself.” 

She kicked it out of his reach, frantically mixing the ingredients together. If this cure worked, she would owe Trousseau her life. If it didn’t... She would risk that life to find the true cure. 

“...Cheers,” she murmured to Trousseau, lifting the bottle of tincture in a morbid toast. Trousseau simply stared at her with blank eyes, watching. 

She took a hearty sip, and waited. Sure enough, she felt the antidote take place almost immediately. Her breathing and heart rate returned to normal, the black swellings disappeared, and the bleeding of said swellings vanished. 

“Trousseau, it worked! Your cure worked! Here, drink.” 

She handed the bottle to Trousseau, who stared at it blankly. 

“I don’t want to be saved. I don’t care about salvation anymore... It should be my punishment instead.” 

Castti took the bottle from his limp hands. 

“Trousseau... Just the very fact that you think you deserve to be punished for what you did proves that you are a better person than you give yourself credit for. You can still change. And if we hurry, there won’t be any casualties of today. Now drink, so we can save the rest of the townspeople.” 

She placed the bottle back in his hands, and after a moment he swigged it, taking a single gulp. 

Slowly, he rose to his feet, favouring the side without the injury. Castti did that, she hurt the one who looked up to her, she tried to cleave the most eager member of the group in half- 

“Come on, Chief. They’re waiting for Eir’s Apothecaries. Let’s not keep them waiting,” Trousssau murmured, and Castti took his hand, bottle in his other. She scooped up her axe, putting it back in her belt. She tried to ignore the way Trousseau seemed to flinch slightly when she picked it up. 

Just as they were about to rush down the stairs, Edmund came running up. 

“Bonemender, are you-” 

He paused, eyes trained on Trousseau. 

“...Isn’t this the guy who tried to mess everything up? Hell’s he doin’ alive?” He asked, and Trousssau gave a weak smile. 

“That’s what I would like to know as well. Unfortunately, Chief isn’t very good at reasons. Excellent at action, though. That’s why she’s on her way to cure everyone afflicted with poison.” 

“With the cure that Trousseau created,” Castti added, and Trousseau’s smile vanished. 

“Chief is the one who created it. I just told her ingredients that might work. In any case, we don’t have time to argue about the intricacies of my survival. At the moment, there are many in town who likely need a dosage of the cure. If you would be so kind as to let us through..?” 

Edmund stepped aside wordlessly, and Castti made her way cautiously down the stairs into the castle. At some point, Trousseau had ended up on Edmund’s back, being carried like a child through the twisting corridors. Not that he seemed to mind. In fact, Trousseau seemed quite content to be as limp as a sleeping young one and just as quiet. 

It was almost terrifying how silent he was, but Castti chose to ignore her anxiety for the time being. There were people who needed saving. 

It seemed like aeons before her and Trousseau were staggering into the tavern with a drained bottle of antidote. Everyone was safe, and Castti was so, so tired. 

“You can rest easy, Chief,” Trousseau’s soft voice assured her as her eyes fell shut. “Everyone is safe.” 

“Even you...?” She asked sleepily, and heard a breathy chuckle from above her head as it fell onto her arms. 

“After the effort you put in to keep me alive? I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, even if I wanted to. Don’t worry, Chief. I’ll be right here when you wake up. Go ahead and rest. You deserve it.” 

Trousseau was right. Castti did deserve to rest after what she’d gone through. 

Before she knew it, she was falling asleep, and dreaming of Eir’s Apothecaries, with Trousseau there merrily laughing with the others as though he’d never even heard of the black blood poison. 

In her sleep she smiled, dreaming of bygone days that whispered in her mind like a pleasant memory. 

And when she woke up, Trousseau was still there, fast asleep on the table, looking more peaceful than he ever had before. 

“Sleep well, Trousseau.”

while i cant say im partial to the concept itself, the writing in this is definitely worthy of being called a Mav Classic

[episbep]

recovery day five

(boob graffiti cos it made me smile)

today isn’t over yet but I’m absolutely exhausted. I can’t stop thinking about my ex (not sure why tho cos our story really is and has to be over. I wish him well, just far away from me*) & for some reason I’m really obsessing over getting high but keep reminding myself how much I want and need to stay clean. I can and will keep going, but it feels as though my brain is against me.

I’m struggling to keep up with housework- my bedsheets need changing cos I spilt a drink over my pillows days ago and I genuinely can’t remember the last time I changed them but I’m struggling to find the energy and motivation. I’ve washed the same load of washing twice now but still haven’t hung it up. I need to hoover and do the washing up and make some proper food but I’m doing what needs to be done during the day then coming home and melting into bed. I need to go to a meeting tonight so that I can keep up with 90 in 90 but I’m so fucking exhausted.

anyway today I went to emotional regulation group, v nice ppl there, shared some tough stuff and got some wonderful support. In our vape break I bumped into my ex’s ex (weird but calm - we used to hate each other but made our peace a while back. She was drunk though, she’s an addict too and clearly struggling. She told me my ex’s family used to chat shit about me. Honestly though I have bigger fish to fry, keep your opinions away from me. I have no control over people, places or things- only my reaction to them.) then I had an assessment for additional support with turning point, another drug and alcohol support service, and they advised me that they will put my case forward to be assessed for funding to attend treatment which just wow I would snap that up gratefully. Im being as open and honest as I can be, and taking all the help that is offered. Anything that is suggested I am trying my best to do. As I was leaving I got a call from one of the NA members with a lot of clean time and I told him about the cravings I’ve been having, he reassured me that they’re normal and will subside with time I just have to power on through. Feeling very loved and supported by that group, but need to sort out coming off of my medication so that I can properly join it as a home group and start on step work. I had acupuncture after that and a nice little chat with the lady who does it - recovery is full of love, support and beautiful people. Oh I also got an invitation to interview for a job that I actually really want 🥰 Now home in bed, might nap then head out to the meeting. It’s only around the corner so I can’t not really.

I want sobriety so much. I am just so exhausted…one day at a time.

[beantothemax]

“So... cold...” 

Trousseau’s voice sounded pained, efforted. He clutched at his bleeding side, head bowed. His white hair was stained crimson, his face splattered with poison and blood. 

“I’ve watched so many die... Time and time again...” 

He chuckled weakly, shoulders trembling. Castti could only stare, only watch in horror as the one she once called a friend died slowly before her eyes. 

“So this... is what death feels like... Of course. This is it... Salvation.” 

The look of relief on his face was underlined with pain, with something akin to sorrow. Somewhere deep down, Trousseau didn’t truly want to die. 

“Trousseau...” Castti began. But what would she say? That she was sorry? That she had well and truly hoped that they could be friends again? 

Trousseau only looked up at her, his eyes pale and far away. The blood on his cheek had started to dry, cracking and darkening against his pale skin. He had always looked sickly... 

“How’s it feel, Chief? To take a life?” He asked, and Castti felt sick. Her hands tingled and burned where Trousseau’s blood had spilt, her axe clattering to the ground from a slackened grip. 

No, she decided. She refused to allow this. Apothecaries were not meant to take lives. 

“I’m afraid I won’t know the answer to that,” she answered, sinking to her knees in front of him. She would have to act quickly if she wanted to keep the already-fading poison from infecting his wound. 

Trousseau fell silent as she started pulling at his robes, but complied nonetheless. Lifting his arms so she could peel off the outer layer, then dilligently keeping them raised so she could work without hinderance. 

“...Why are you doing this? Why won’t you let me die? I’m worthless anyway. I’ve killed so many, who’s to say I won’t kill you, too? I’ve already tried twice.” 

Castti looked up briefly from his wound, already dressed and halfway bandaged. She felt numbness starting to creep into her fingertips, the black swellling aching deep in her bones. 

“Because I will extend a helping hand to all in need.” 

Trousseau looked away, eyes shining. 

“...I know the cure to the poison,” he said, and Castti paused, the bandages wrapped tight around the wound. The fact that she caused it still made her feel ill, perhaps made worse by the poison in her system. 

“You... What?” 

“I know the cure, Chief. Please... Let me help you. Let me extend my hand one last time.” 

Castti nodded, and Trousseau shifted, one hand gripping his coat tightly. 

“Purebalm, scalebark leaf, skybalm, santanejo nlossom... And snowdrop petals. Those should create a cure for the poison. Please, Chief... Test it on me. I want to be the first to know if it works. I know it’s a selfish request, but please.” 

Selfish? No. Not selfish. Dangerous. Much too dangerous for someone in such a fragile state. 

Castti shook her head. “No. Not in your state, your condition. I’m testing it on myself.” 

“If it doesn’t work, kill me,” Trousseau responded, and Castti paused. She hated how he made her hesitate, how he stunned her constantly. She needed to act fast, and he was hindering her. 

“I won’t,” she said, and Trousseau leaned forward weakly to grab at her axe. 

“Then I’ll do it myself.” 

She kicked it out of his reach, frantically mixing the ingredients together. If this cure worked, she would owe Trousseau her life. If it didn’t... She would risk that life to find the true cure. 

“...Cheers,” she murmured to Trousseau, lifting the bottle of tincture in a morbid toast. Trousseau simply stared at her with blank eyes, watching. 

She took a hearty sip, and waited. Sure enough, she felt the antidote take place almost immediately. Her breathing and heart rate returned to normal, the black swellings disappeared, and the bleeding of said swellings vanished. 

“Trousseau, it worked! Your cure worked! Here, drink.” 

She handed the bottle to Trousseau, who stared at it blankly. 

“I don’t want to be saved. I don’t care about salvation anymore... It should be my punishment instead.” 

Castti took the bottle from his limp hands. 

“Trousseau... Just the very fact that you think you deserve to be punished for what you did proves that you are a better person than you give yourself credit for. You can still change. And if we hurry, there won’t be any casualties of today. Now drink, so we can save the rest of the townspeople.” 

She placed the bottle back in his hands, and after a moment he swigged it, taking a single gulp. 

Slowly, he rose to his feet, favouring the side without the injury. She did that, she hurt the one who looked up to her, she tried to cleave the most eager member of the group in half- 

���Come on, Chief. They’re waiting for Eir’s Apothecaries. Let’s not keep them waiting,” Trousssau murmured, and she took his hand, bottle in his other. She scooped up her axe, putting it back on her belt. She couldn’t ignore the way Trousseau seemed to flinch slightly when she picked it up. 

Just as they were about to rush down the stairs, Edmund came running up. 

“Bonemender, are you-” 

He paused, eyes trained on Trousseau. 

“...Isn’t this the guy who tried to mess everything up? Hell’s he doin’ alive?” He asked, and Trousssau gave a weak smile. 

“That’s what I would like to know as well. Unfortunately, Chief isn’t very good at reasons. Excellent at action, though. That’s why she’s on her way to cure everyone afflicted with poison.” 

“With the cure that Trousseau created,” Castti added, and Trousseau’s smile vanished. 

“Chief is the one who created it. I just told her ingredients that might work. In any case, we don’t have time to argue about the intricacies of my survival. At the moment, there are many in town who likely need a dosage of the cure. If you would be so kind as to let us through..?” 

Edmund stepped aside wordlessly, and Castti made her way cautiously down the stairs into the castle. At some point, Trousseau had ended up on Edmund’s back, being carried like a child through the twisting corridors. Not that he seemed to mind. In fact, Trousseau seemed quite content to be as limp as a sleeping young one and just as quiet. 

It was almost terrifying how silent he was, but Castti chose to ignore her anxiety for the time being. There were people who needed saving. 

It seemed like aeons before her and Trousseau were staggering into the tavern with a drained bottle of antidote. Everyone was safe, and Castti was so, so tired. 

“You can rest easy, Chief,” Trousseau’s soft voice assured her as her eyes fell shut. “Everyone is safe.” 

“Even you...?” She asked sleepily, and heard a breathy chuckle from above her head as it fell onto her arms. 

“After the effort you put in to keep me alive? I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, even if I wanted to. Don’t worry, Chief. I’ll be right here when you wake up. Go ahead and rest. You deserve it.” 

Trousseau was right. Castti did deserve to rest after what she’d gone through. 

Before she knew it, she was falling asleep, and dreaming of Eir’s Apothecaries, with Trousseau there merrily laughing with the others as though he’d never even heard of the black blood poison. 

In her sleep, she smiled, dreaming of bygone days that whispered in her mind like a pleasant memory. 

And when she woke up, Trousseau was still there, fast asleep on the table, looking more peaceful than he ever had before. 

“Sleep well, Trousseau.” 

[kimbappykidding]

Imagine Chanyeol getting pouty because all his members think he wouldn't be able to protect you in a fight

Chanyeol flinched easier than anyone you had ever met. Loud noises, shouting, a car horn, even someone turning towards him quickly were all things that could set him off. You famously didn't scare. You blamed it on growing up with 4 siblings. You'd become desensitized to noise so while Chanyeol was jumping and shaking you'd just be oblivious and the members found this hilarious. It was new years eve and you'd all gone to Chen's place for a firework display. His garden was beautiful and he even had a large firepit so you were all outside enjoying the beautiful winter night. That was until a neighbour started setting off fireworks early. Chanyeol was unaware and jumped so vividly that he spilt his drink all down himself which made the members laugh. He sighed but got a new one only for the same thing to happen. He returned to you later, now wearing Chen's clothes with Sehun carrying two drinks. "What happened?" you asked and D.O. grinned "your boyfriend is like a baby deer that's what". Baekhyun explained that Chanyeol spilt his drink not once but twice. Chanyeol went to defend himself when another firework went off and he wrapped himself around you like a jacket. The boys shrieked with laughter but Chanyeol just sighed burying his face in your neck "I hate fireworks". You chuckled and held his arms which were wrapped around your waist. "I know but don't worry, we can get you some earmuffs or something if you want?". "Or I could just stay right here the whole night?" he asked and you smiled "fine by me" and hugged him tighter. He was pretty happy being wrapped around you and thought this worked well. Anytime a firework went off he squeezed you and felt better for the physical contact but he didn’t realise what the boys thought of it. You stepped away to go to the bathroom and Suho laughed seeing Chanyeol's worried face "she'll be back soon you know?". "I know" he said and Kai smiled "you're so lost without her. You're like a helpless puppy". "No I'm not" Chanyeol pouted and the others all smirked "Yes you are, you look like trainee Sehun whenever Suho left the room" Lay commented and the others all erupted. "Well yeah I like it when she’s around but i’m not helpless. I can handle myself and look after y/n". The members all erupted again and Chanyeol stopped finding it funny "what are you all trying to say?". "Nothing just... come on you might be over 6 foot but you're not the best protector. There's no way you'd last in a fight" Xiumin answered honestly. Baekhyun nodded "yeah it'd totally be y/n defending you, not the other way around". "No it wouldn't...I'd look after her" Chanyeol tried to argue but the members were having too much fun teasing. "You'd be on the floor cowering! All they'd have to do is shout boo and you'd be a mess" D.O. laughed.  "Hey why don't we talk about something else?" Suho asked seeing Chanyeol’s face and he shook his head "don't stop having fun in my account" and walked away. The members called after him but he shrugged them away and went to find you. You found him instead which didn't disprove the members' point.  

You could tell from the second you saw Chanyeol that something was wrong. He smiled when he saw you but his eyes were so huge they told you straight away he was upset. “What happened?” you asked and Chanyeol sighed, he knew by now there was no use pretending he was fine when you could see right through him. “The guys were just teasing me but I didn’t find it funny”. You frowned “what was it about”. Chanyeol pursed his lips a little embarrassed to tell you. You grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it. “Whatever it is you can tell me” you told him. Chanyeol sighed “they said I’d be terrible in a fight and that i’m a coward!”. “What? Why?”. Chanyeol shrugged “I don’t know...they were teasing me about jumping at everything and said if we got attacked that you’d be the one to fight them off and I wouldn’t be any help”. You frowned “they’re just messing around Chanyeol, they know you’d help me”. “Yeah but they were serious when they said I wouldn’t be any good. Who do they think I am? There’s no way I’d just stand by and let someone hurt you. I may jump easily but I know my duty as your boyfriend and I’d never let anything happen to you”. You smiled and stepped closer “as sweet as that is, you know it's not your job to protect me right?". Chanyeol paused clearly confused "but I'm your boyfriend". You nodded "yes and that means it's your job to love me and be kind to me. That's it. You don't have to knock guys out or challenge strangers to fight just because we're dating". Still Chanyeol pouted "but what if someone was trying to hurt you? What if I couldn't defend you". You smiled "you're a lot braver than you think, in those sorts of situations instinct kind of takes over and your adrenaline overrules any nerves". Chanyeol nodded "I have heard that before". You nodded "plus...you know i'm not clueless right? I'm pretty strong and know a fair amount of fighting techniques", I mean my dad does own a dojo”. Chanyeol nodded "I know but I'd feel bad if I didn't handle it for you". "I don't need you handling my fights for me Chanyeol I'm a big strong girl" you said flexing your muscles jokingly "we're a team. The way I see it, I help you and you help me. We're equal and we can solve anything together". Chanyeol smiled "yeah we can". He stepped forwards to kiss you when a firework went off and he jumped. You chuckled and pulled him back towards you "you’re so cute" and kissed him. More fireworks went off but Chanyeol didn’t jump once...he was a bit preoccupied kissing his wonderful girlfriend. 

____________

So apparently I have a thing where I pre-judge tall good looking idols because I did it with Mingyu from Seventeen and Chanyeol. When I was learning Exo I thought Chanyeol wouldn’t be that great a person because he was so tall and looked intimidatingly good looking. Then I saw videos of him jumping at everything and getting attacked by D.O. who’s like a head shorter than him and knew I was wrong. 

That’s all to say I love how Chanyeol looks scary but is so cute and soft. Tall people being adorable dorks is one of my favourite things. 

Also this weekend is bonfire night where I live so this was unexpectedly good timing! Happy bonfire night everyone :) 

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. lxxxi - < 33

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

San and Wooyoung fought for a solid 3 minutes over who gets to have you on their laps before you smack them both and pulled a chair in between them.

So there you three were, out of class and straight into a PC bang. You admit that when San told you he was kidnapping you to go on a date you didn't expect him to have brought you to play computer games. But then Wooyoung crashed in and challenged San.

Literally.

You and San were both walking hand-in-hand towards the university's gate and suddenly Wooyoung came barrelling in like a wild block of cheese rolling down Cooper's Hill.

But you didn't mind. Not when you know how both of them together would mean more chaos and it's just more entertaining.

"Sannie," you called out to him, tugging on his sleeve. He momentarily averted his attention from the screen to you. "Yes, baby?" he smiled at you before focusing back on the screen. You pursed your lips at him, pouting whilst giving him your best puppy eyes, "I'm thirsty,"

San's eyebrows furrowed, "didn't you bought a venti sized latte before we came here?" he asked, sure that you had gotten the largest size of beverage before going to the PC Bang. You wrap your arms around his closest forearm as you rested your head on his shoulder, "Wooyoungie drank like three-fourth of it," you complained, glaring at your other boyfriend who smirked at the mention of his name.

"Sharing is caring, you know?" he defended himself. You scoffed and kicked his leg, "you should've gotten your own," you muttered at him.

Wooyoung giggled but slid his chair backwards, "okay, fine, we'll get you something to drink now," Wooyoung said, getting up and pulled San up and out of your grasp.

San whined in protest at the sudden intrusion of his gaming time, saying it was Wooyoung's fault and he didn't do anything. He immediately shut up though when Wooyoung mentioned that he saw the kid who had been beating his ass in the game near the cashier.

You could only chuckle at them both, staring dreamily whilst a warm, fluttering feeling bloomed in your stomach.

"Hey," a voice called behind you.

You looked back and you internally swallowed the lump that appeared in your throat.

There were two girls standing behind you, smirk adorning their faces. You recognize them as your batch's biggest pick me up girls and gossips, people would either go to them to get tea or they'd avoid them at all cost like the plague. You had a couple of classes with them the previous semester and you had one with them in the current semester. Seeing that they were from communications, you were quite glad. But due to the current inevitable truth spilt, you had just been actively avoiding them.

Awkwardly, you smiled at them both, hoping that they were just coming by to say hello. Sadly, there's a 99.9% chance of that not happening.

"Hi," you answered back to them.

"Funny meeting you here, never pegged you to be a gamer," one of them spoke out.

It was irritatingly creepy how they made each other look so similar. The outfits, the hairstyle and colour, the nails? Are they purposefully TRYING to look like twins?

You let out an awkward chuckle at them, "Not really, I didn't come here alone," you said, not really wanting to tell them who you came with, " I didn't know you both like to go to PC Bangs too," you added.

Both of them nodded their heads towards the direction of 5 guys, pushing one another as their eyes glued to the screens in front of them. "We don't go here on our own accords, we're here with the boys," one of them said.

Suddenly, the other one stepped forward and leaned in close to your face, making you slightly uncomfortable, "But I'm not surprised that you're here playing, though," she said.

At that, you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

"How do you mean?" You asked.

Realizing you just caught her bait, she smirked wider. Her hand reached forward to pat you twice on the head, "I mean you're such a player, bet you like playing games, right? Or you perhaps like to hang around here, looking to rope in more boys into your STD dungeon?"

What she said wasn't even clever, yet they were both cackling as if they had just roasted Albert Einstein. That pissed you off more than the fact that they had just practically called you a whore.

Your jaw clenched tight when they didn't stop their laughter. You tried to hold it in, not wanting to have an outburst in a public space occupied mostly by people from your campus. But by God, shoving a CPU in their mouths seemed like a good idea.

Not being able to stand their laughter anymore, you push yourself up to stand before them. Their laughter died down slightly, noticing how your eyes burn with intensity, as if ready to pounce at them.

"Funny you should say that when that's what you're both doing," you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "What are you talking about?" one of them asked. "An Australopithecus would've understood what I meant quicker than these airheads," you muttered under your breath before continuing, "What was the point of coming up to me here anyways? Trying to prove that you're better than me by telling me that my relationship is a sham? You know what's a sham? Your hair colour, nose, lips, double eyelid, chin, and pretty sure if a door slam to your bodies, your boobs will pop like a fucking water balloon," you spoke in one breath.

Maybe it was the accumulated stress from having to deal with the judge-y shitheads in your class and literally everywhere around campus, or maybe it's just you wanting to channel your anger at something. Before you know it, you took menacing steps to them, cornering both girls against the table behind them.

You jab a finger at one of their chests, "You both act like you're the saints of the campus when fact is at least three fourth of us don't give even a tenth of a fuck for you both so you went on chasing, hanging out with boys because what was it that you said? Befriending girls is too much? We're too much drama? If so, then what are you both? You created at least 87% of the drama that you have ever been into. Did those boys even wanted you two around or did you two just latch onto them like fucking leeches? Call me a whore, call me a slut or whatever 'clever' thing you can come up with, but at least the people I'm with genuinely wants me and I didn't even have to throw myself at them like you two did. I still have my pride and dignity," You spat out at them.

Their eyes widened at your outburst. It was clear that they hadn't taken into account that there was a chance that you'd retaliate like that.

"Fucking parasites," you muttered as you turned your back on them and walked off to the bathroom to calm yourself down a bit, leaving the two girls flabbergasted with people, including their so-called guy friends, laughing and snickering at them.

As you were about to enter the bathroom, you felt hands pushing you inside and bodies piling inside the bathroom. When the sound of door locking was heard, you almost panicked, thinking that this might be a public attack that you'd hear on the news.

But you were so glad when you turned around and see your boyfriends. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to calm yourself down slightly before moving to smack their arms for scaring the shit out of you.

"What the fuck do you-" your protests were cut short when Wooyoung lunged to connect his lips with yours. You let out a squeal at the impact of his body paired with the impact of the sink behind you.

San moved himself behind you, hands clutching onto the edges of your skirt tightly, bunching them up to reveal your panties to the cold air of the bathroom.

"We heard your little outburst outside," San said as his lips latched onto the side of your neck. You let out a muffled 'what?' at him. Wooyoung's lips were preventing you from speaking much as his hands began to prevent you from thinking straight. The way they had magically manoeuvred themselves into your shirt and bra made your knees weak.

"Yeah, we heard everything. Woo had to hold me back from interfering to which I'm glad he did," he groaned loudly next to your ear as his hands move, they wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, "because if he hadn't, I wouldn't have seen this side of you and it's so damn sexy," he growled. You could feel him bucking his hips onto your ass and even with his jeans, you could feel how hard he was. It was a good thing that San was holding onto you so tightly or else you would've slumped so hard onto the floor.

Without any warning, San slipped a hand into your skirt and tugged your panties down to your knees. Before even fully comprehending the situation, both San and Wooyoung hand worked on their pants, relieving their hard cocks from their confines. Their lips must've been magic because you could've sworn that you didn't realize anything until you felt them pressing themselves to your entrance.

The tip of San's cock prodded against your back hole first, as if asking for permission. You moaned at the feeling, letting go of Wooyoung's lips to throw your head back against San's shoulder. San took it as a sign from you to continue. He slowly pushed himself in. With the lack of lubricant, you felt its slight sting.

Wooyoug noticed how you winced at the feeling of San entering your ass. Though the latter tried to distract you by peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck, it proved to not be enough. So Wooyoung reconnected both of your lips as he snuck a hand down to play with your clit.

You squirmed in both of their holds. The slight foreign discomfort combined with the pleasure Wooyoung's fingers gave you elicit a rather new feeling.

It didn't take long for San to be fully nestled in you. Though it would've been wise to get used to him first, you could see how Wooyoung eyed his fingers, wanting nothing more than to slip himself in you.

Chuckling slightly, you took ahold of his working hand, "Woo, I need you in me now," you told him. He looked at you with eyes slightly wide, "You sure? Don't you wanna take a bit more time?" he asked. It was honestly adorable how concerned he was about you even in such an intimate position.

Not saying anything, you pulled him closer to you by his shirt, effectively sandwiching yourself between the two best friends.

"When it comes to any one of you, I can't wait anymore," you said, teeth tugging against his earlobe.

At that, Wooyoung exhaled shakily. You got what you wanted when he suddenly lifted your left leg up to his waist and began entering you slowly.

With one side already filled, you felt extremely full. It wasn't too much for you, but it sure does make you felt like you were about to burst.

"M-move," you told them both as your hands clenched onto Wooyoung's shirt.

They both started at a slow pace, trying to establish a rhythm to make sure that you felt as good as they were feeling. The last thing they wanted was for you to feel like something that they'd use to just merely get off.

The initial foreign feeling changed to pleasure quickly. When you felt both men fell into stable rhythms, you began moaning in pleasure. Their cocks were rubbing and prodding all the right places.

"God, I think I can feel San inside you, babe," Wooyoung groaned.

You unconsciously clenched hard at Wooyoung's words.

San took notice immediately. One of his eyebrows raised in surprise at the newfound information.

"Little slut here likes to be filled to the brim, doesn't she?" he chuckled darkly. One of his hands moved to wrap itself around on your neck. The slight pressure he put on it felt amazing when combined with the feeling both of them provided with their cocks.

Wooyoung's lips planted themselves onto your chest as he pulled your shirt lower. His teeth tugged at your skin, to which you were sure he wanted to leave marks on you.

"Can't answer us when you have two cocks in you huh, babe?" Wooyoung taunted, purposefully biting your nipple through your bra, making you gasp loudly.

Their speed increased significantly. You felt both of their hips hitting you in turns, their cocks also taking turns in filling you. When one slip out, the other slipped in. You were never left empty.

Your high was approaching quicker than anyone could expect. Between the work they did with their lips and their cocks stuffing you, you were actually surprised that you hadn't come any quicker.

"F-fuck I-I-I-" You stuttered out. You couldn't even finish your sentence as you suddenly came hard on them. Your thighs quivered and you clenched them hard to the point that they groaned at how tight you were being.

With your climax accomplished, the two became focused on chasing their own.

"F-first one to cum pays for today's gaming session," Wooyoung said, smirking to San as if he was taunting him.

Through the overstimulation, you managed to smack Wooyoung's shoulder. Albeit weakly. "A-are you- Ah! Are you seriously m-m-maki-ng bets in t-the middle of f-fucking?" you glared at him.

Your question was left unanswered as he only grinned deviilishly.

Feeling sneaky, you immediately slip your hands under his shirt to tweak at his nipples. During your times with him, you found out how his nipples became sensitive when he's about to cum and usually it wouldn't take much for him to cum when you play with his nipples.

His jaw hung open at the sudden feeling. His thrusts became sloppier. After one, two more tugs, you felt him unloading himself inside you. His hips lock in place and his cock twitched inside you. His warm load filling you, making you whine at the feeling.

San chuckled from behind you, "thanks baby," he said, pecking you softly on your cheek, making you giggle. "But now I need to cum in your pussy too,"

Before you could even prepare yourself, he had pulled out of you abruptly. He pushed Wooyoung out of your pussy so that he could bend you over the sink.

"I'm sorry baby, but I really need to cum," he said quickly before plunging himself into your pussy. You let out a yelp as your hands anchored yourself by the edges of the sink.

San drilled into you at an animalistic pace. You looked up the mirror to see San's eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing as his hips snap harshly against your ass.

Wooyoung's cum made it easier for him to move in and out of you. He even slipped out a couple of times.

You helped him chase his high by clenching your pussy around him. Soon enough, you felt a second load painting your walls. San's cum mixing with yours and Wooyoungs's.

The mixture leaked from your hole down to your thighs and even trickled down onto the floor. Some were caught by your panties but a lot of them fell to the floor, especially when San finally pulled out of you.

The three of you stood silently in the bathroom, trying to catch your breaths after the impromptu bathroom session.

San was the first one to catch his breath. He stuffed himself back into his pants and fixed his clothes. "I'll help (Y/N) clean herself up, you go and pay so we can get out," he said as he began to pull some tissues from the dispenser.

In the midst of fixing his own clothes, Wooyoung paused as he furrowed his eyebrows at San, "Why me?" he asked. San rolled his eyes at the question, "Because you said whoever came first had to pay and you did," he said as he leaned down to wipe the dripping cum from your pussy.

Wooyoung whined at that, "Not fair! (Y/N) made me cum! That shouldn't have counted!" You giggled at his accusation, "I mean, you shouldn't have made a bet when you're having sex with your girlfriend, but..." you trailed off.

Feeling defeated, Wooyoung groaned and pout, "Fine, I'll pay. But I better get a ton of kisses in return," he grumbled as he pointed at you.

You only rolled your eyes at him whilst wiggling your hips to help San put your panties back on.

"As if I don't already give you a lot,"

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[inb4belphienaps]

crying over spilt milk

warnings: none word count: 2285

“Truth be told, I’ve been having these dreams. Dreams almost of another life, a past life perhaps. One that I’d lived and seen and breathed through at some distant point in time.”

I read over my words, holding the letter in my hands.

“They are, by far, the most intricate and detailed dreams I’ve ever had. Usually, I don’t remember them. But these…these feel too real, too specific, too thought out to be anything except something akin to memories of a bygone era.”

I recall a few of them with some difficulty. That was always how dreams worked, like trying to grab mist with your bare hands and having nothing tangible left as evidence.

“Shall I confess?

They have now become a source of entertainment for me, having increasingly rooted themselves in my mind, to the extent that I find myself looking forward to (for lack of better phrasing) the ‘next installment’.

It’s bizarre, I’ll admit. How eager I am to get to sleep as soon as the clock shifts from afternoon to evening, when the hour hand turns to six and I wonder if I’ll see him again…”

.

.

.

as you slowly float back up to the surface, the first sound that hits you is the singing of birds. their bright and cheerful chirps filter in with a hint of irony. though they're pleasant, quietened by the curtains hanging over the windows, it means that it's still rather early.

there's a chill in the air and you turn over under your duvet, tucking your feet in further towards your knees, eager to keep the warmth on your skin. and yet, you open your eyes, not needing to blink any sleep from them. oddly enough, you're more awake than you'd thought. whatever dream you'd been having is far from your mind as you bask in the scattered sunlight dancing on your walls.

such serenity ignites a type of mild excitement in you. and with that in mind, you will yourself to get out of bed.

you draw back the curtains and glance outside, looking out at the landscape, where the sun is shyly peeking over the hill. dawn is only just breaking and as you open a window, a gust of wind greets you, sending a rush of floral scents your way.

you can place notes of rose and lavender, and maybe honeysuckle too. the scenery is beautiful, and you lean against the ledge to admire it. clear skies and waves of green, dotted here and there with reds and pinks and yellows. there's a calmness to the color and vibrancy. something you hadn't stopped to feel in a long time.

it stays in the background. while you pour yourself some tea and sit down for breakfast, and when you turn on the radio to the crooning of some ballad you can't quite place. and even as you set about doing the laundry, humming every now and then to a tune only you seem to know.

the basket you use is one you've weaved yourself (in an attempt to be impassioned by a new hobby). it's small and sturdy and it does the job. you wonder whether it'll last you, hoping that if it breaks, it'll at least do you the favor of waiting until it's empty.

though it doesn't take long, you're startled to see the sun in the sky as you step onto the gravel path, basket in hand. it seems to stare down at you and wink as clouds roll overhead, creating capering shadows on the field as you start hanging the wet quilts one by one.

a couple of bees follow you around as you go about your business. and when you stand still to breathe in the smell of freshly washed linen and admire the warm glow cast on those sheets by the light, a butterfly flutters past.

it brings with it the distant ring of a bicycle bell. you look to the east where a man in uniform comes riding up the hill and the smile on your face could bring shame to the flowers lying near your feet.

"good morning", he says, slowing and stopping a foot or two away from you. he tilts his cap and you note the way in which his fringe barely covers his right eye.

"good morning", you reply. "it must be exhausting having to make that trip every day."

he laughs. it's sweet.

"i don't really mind."

in his hand he carries a metal basket and neatly arranged inside are six glass bottles full of milk.

"how many would you like today?", he asks, and you have the urge to tell him you'll take everything he has to offer. but of course, you don't say this aloud.

"just the one, please."

as he picks up one of the bottles to give to you, you swallow your spit and gesture towards your house. the shadows continue to dance above it, making it seem fluid despite its usual rigidity.

"can i get you something to drink? a coffee, perhaps?"

he appears taken aback, eyes widening a fraction before he smiles, and you feel your heart leap into your throat.

"i'd like that very much. a coffee sounds great."

you momentarily freeze, having expected him to refuse your offer. and then you're taking the bottle of milk and your basket back inside as he follows after you. you turn back to him as he enters and the sheets you'd hung flail slightly behind him, almost like a set of wings.

"cream and sugar?"

"um, no. but could i trouble you for some ice?"

an iced americano, you think. placing your basket on the floor and leaving your bottle on the kitchen counter, you busy yourself with preparing his beverage.

"my name is belphegor, by the way. i think you should at least know who it is that's been delivering you your milk."

you pause, having taken a mug out of the cupboard, and meet his gaze. his tone sounds a little indignant. were you simply being sensitive?

"it's a pleasure to officially meet you, belphegor."

the both of you exchange a shared laugh (the sudden bit of formality is embarrassing). he's the first to look away, breaking the eye contact that has goosebumps erupt on your skin. hm, perhaps you were overthinking things. only, the problem is that you're not sure you have any ice in the fridge.

"were you listening to music?"

"yes- oh", you say, confused at the static that greets you. "the program must've finished."

he glances at the radio and then at you. in your bid to locate the instant coffee you have, you don't notice.

through a strange coincidence, you find it sitting pretty on the top-most shelf of the pantry. you frown, wondering if you'd placed it there by mistake.

belphegor is about to open his mouth to speak again when he sees you reach upwards, fingers brushing across the jar mere centimeters out of your grasp. you're on your toes, leaning forward, barely balancing as you try your hardest to take it.

the man remains silent, watching you with a detached type of curiosity.

darn shelves, you think, as you stretch as far as you're physically able. still, the glass slips from between your fingers and you resort to stepping on a sack of flour. right as you grab it, the corner of the sack slides out from underneath your foot and you gasp, knowing all too well how this was going to end.

but there's a hand on your shoulder and a solid chest against your back, and a pleasant voice in your ear that suggests otherwise.

"so much trouble for a coffee."

his breath tickles the nape of your neck and you twist around to thank him, unprepared for the amused expression painting his face. from here, you can see every freckle, every eyelash, and every stray hair left untamed by his cap.

"you okay?", he asks, too close and quiet. too intimate that you forget yourself for a second.

"i'm...i'm fine."

those furrowed brows of his make you think twice and you place a hand to his chest, marveling in its warmth. you can feel his heart beat. it's steady, unfazed by whatever silly accident had happened just now.

"thanks", you mutter, swiftly removing yourself from his arms (firm and inviting). "i'll uhh...i'll make your iced americano, shall i?"

he doesn't say anything as you take a spoon and measure out the ground powder. and the silence lingers as you bring a pot of water to the boil. your thoughts, however, are that much louder, that much more pronounced. you were never one to invite strangers into your home. why was he such an exception?

"you can stop staring."

belphegor chuckles and you hate the fact that you can't ignore it. his laughter, it twinkles, and it has you looking at him all over again.

"i was keeping an eye out for you. in case you decide to make a habit of falling while i'm here."

you scoff, opening the fridge door to remove the ice tray. six cubes blink up at you and you ease three out, popping them into his mug in rapid succession. it's a tad violent and some of the coffee sloshes out onto the counter.

"thank you for your concern. but it's really not necessary."

he walks towards you, and you remain fixed on his bowtie, hoping to avoid being trapped by his alluring purple irises.

"if you say so."

and he takes a sip. and you find a cloth to wipe the spilt coffee with.

"it tastes good", he says. "maybe i should ask you to make me one every morning."

"tough luck", you reply, glancing at him as you clean. "i'm afraid this is the last of my hospitality."

besides, you didn't have it in you to continue acting an utter fool around him. something about his self-assuredness serves as the antithesis to your nervous energy, fueling it further to the point that you're doubtful about whether he'll return tomorrow.

"is that any way to talk to your knight in shining armor?"

oh. nevermind. that question makes you want to slap the handsome smirk off his face.

you give one last swipe of the counter, as if to stand your ground, and straighten up. yet it only leads to disaster.

the lonesome bottle of milk that you'd put atop it, comes crashing down onto the tiles, spraying its contents along every surface and scattering glass shards in its wake. the knot in your stomach tightens and you refuse to acknowledge the man who hasn't budged an inch.

he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"what am i going to do with you?"

as you stoop down to gather the glass, he mirrors you.

"i can-"

"it'll be faster with the two of us."

apparently, it's your turn to watch him. you slow your movements as you focus on his hands, how meticulously they pick up each broken shard and how conflicted you feel about him doing as such. in your daze, the edge of a particularly sharp fragment digs into your thumb and you flinch.

"fuck-"

he reacts before you do, tossing the glass he's holding into the bin and taking your hand in his to help you remove the fragment.

"this might sting", he mutters. that was the last thing on your mind. did this man have no sense of personal space?

the fragment is tossed out with the rest of what used to be the bottle and you're about to reluctantly thank him for a second time until he's bringing your thumb up to his mouth.

"wh- what are you doing?"

he suckles gently on the cut, putting a stop to the bleeding, and you're rendered speechless. when he speaks, all you can think about is his lips.

"can't you be more careful?"

"not with you here, no", you say, finally admitting to the reality that was beginning to suffocate you. you can't pay attention to anything other than him.

"figured it out, have you?"

"figured what out...?", you ask, leaning in as his voice drops to a whisper.

"you have a crush on me."

you stare, perplexed, and you tear your eyes away from his mouth to look at him. there's a secret lingering in his facade. of words unspoken and confessions kept hidden. what does he know?

"prove it", you mumble, perfectly aware of how ridiculous a demand that was.

except he obliges, closing the gap between the both of you and meeting your lips with his own. they're soft and as you snake your hands around his neck, his cap comes loose, falling to join the mess on the floor.

neither of you care to address it and he pulls you back up, hugging you to his front and wrapping his arms around you. it's intoxicating. bitterness lingers on his tongue and there's the faint taste of cigarettes. but you're kissing him like someone starved. or perhaps someone parched.

sparks fly beneath your eyelids and rouge caresses your cheeks. (or was it the ghost of his palm against them?)

there's a need, an intensity to the way he grips you and the way clenches his jaw when you tug at his hair. you match him blow for blow, digging your nails into his shoulder and moaning softly into the kiss.

when you part and rest your forehead against his, you're not the only one who's out of breath.

"belphie", you whisper and the look on his face is a mystery in itself – surprise and longing, haphazardly hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"thank god i brought another five bottles with me, huh?"

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Tokyo Nights

Word Count: 1821 Rating: E Ships: Many! (Rengoku/Mitsuri, Rengoku/Uzui/Wives, Rengoku/Giyuu…) Genre: Smut Author's Notes: I have no excuse. There aren't any triggers in here (that I'm aware of?)- so enjoy this shameless smut. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Privacy was a blessing, something not often received at home. The compound was busy near constantly with the bustle of relatives, of young hopeful slayers training beneath their sensei, of younger brothers stuck to one’s side like glue. It wasn’t that Kyojuro was upset that he didn’t have privacy- no, quite the opposite! He enjoyed having company, enjoyed having people around him and having something to do. But times like these, privacy was, indeed, a blessing.

The hotel was nice- one of the newer ones in Tokyo that had a private onsen attached. It was perfect for couples wanting to escape for a night or two- or for weary Hashira who needed a place to rest and recuperate. Somewhere out there, Tengen walked with his wives, exploring the city to their heart’s content before their own mission would begin within a few weeks’ time. They’d invited him to go along, seeing as how he had no current mission in progress- and he’d agreed! It’d been too long since he’d last been to Tokyo.

But now? Now, he was tired- but not enough to sleep. A strange electric current felt as if it were running through his veins, making him antsy, too warm despite the chill in the air outside. He huffed, finally tugging off his yukata, a sigh of relief slipping free as the cool air of the room graced his form. He fell back upon the bed- a raised bed! They were popular in the west, apparently. It was soft- softer than he’d expected, no harsh tatami mats beneath. Perhaps he could invest in one for his room? That would be nice.

Eyes sliding shut, he felt his body relax into the mattress. Oh, this was nice- very nice. Outside, the sound of laughter drifted to his window, though it was distant. His mind drifted to the events of the last three days- of the laughter shared, of the joy that filled him. Tomorrow, they will head back to their respective compounds. Tonight, Tengen would retire with his wives to their room-

Beside his own.

Kyojuro tried to swallow, but found his throat to be dry. Was he coming down with a fever? To be so warm- he shook his head as he sat up, hands reaching up to run through his hair, untangling the wild mane. An image flashed before his eyes- of a larger hand gripping the hair at the base of his head, tilting his head back, holding him there as a hungry mouth pressed to his own, the kiss demanding, making his knees feel weak. Red and gold hues blinked hard once, twice, before he shook his head. That had been the first night they had been here.

“Too much to drink,” he murmured out loud, even though he knew he’d only had one glass of sake and Tengen hadn’t even drank anything. He knew that the girls had only a glass of a red wine- though Hinatsuru had white instead of red. How they’d brought him back to their bedroom, four pairs of hands wandering across his body. How Suma had settled on his lap, her hips grinding down as Tengen settled behind him, his hands broad, strong, palms smooth despite the heavy blades he carried.

Kyojuro gave a harsh shake of the head, as if attempting to clear the images of his past endeavor from his mind. Instead, his mind drifted to another endeavor- of much smoother skin, of soft hips and a softer voice. Of whines of his name, begging for him to go “harder, Kyo, please- you feel so good in me, so full, so deep- don’t stop, don’t stop, please!” Oh, how he’d enjoyed that encounter- especially with how she’d settled atop his lap and tried to ride, but he ended up having to take control.

Who knew Mitsuri liked to have her hair pulled? He hadn’t, not until that night.

Cheeks flushed a healthy red, he poured himself a glass of water before downing it in a few long drinks. Tired- that’s all. He was just… Very tired! He needed to rest! Yet when he settled back on the bed, a hand drifted low, palming at himself. “Already?” He muttered, brows furrowed inward as he grasped his half-hard cock. Huh. “Traitor,” he spoke to his own body as he released himself before sitting up. He reached over, taking hold of the extra pillows to stack them against the headboard.

Uzui wouldn’t be back for a while longer- and it wasn’t often that he was able to just take time for himself.

His head tilted back as he settled in, a small hum slipping free as his hands wandered slowly. He was proud of his physique; he’d worked hard to get to this point. A gasp escaped as his fingers pinched at a nipple before brushing his thumb over it, as if to soothe. Now that he was embracing this sudden urge, his mind was running wild- giving brief glimpses of those he’d found attractive. Of the time Giyuu had managed to pin him down during a sparring session, his hips pressing down into his own, the normally docile sapphire hues bright and wild, a breathless grin on his lips-

Of Sanemi pressing close against his back, trying to get ahold of Giyuu who was being held back by Tengen, the way he’d felt so solid and had growled in his ear. Oh, that had ended up in a fun few nights when Kyojuro was alone in his room, face pressed into his pillows, gasping out Sanemi’s name like a prayer while his hands worked himself over.

Of the time when Obanai had unintentionally walked in on him in the shower- and then refused to leave since Rengoku couldn't “see me, so this is okay, I’ll be quick.” He’d needed to change his bandages- Senjuro had spilt water on them, and Obanai hated the feeling of damp bandages. Kyojuro had been so close, too, when he’d walked in. He’d covered the moan he had let free when the door opened with a loud yawn, though he still wasn’t sure if Obanai had believed it to be a yawn. He hated to admit, but he hadn’t stopped stroking.

A groan slipped free as his hips rutted into the air, searching for a touch that wasn’t there. He could calm down, get dressed, and take a trip to one of the Tea Houses that Tengen had mentioned visiting before- with his wives, even. That was scandalous- but the idea was tempting. Too tempting, but that meant getting up, and he didn’t want to get up, not with how hard he was now.

Fiery gaze opened slightly, glancing down at himself- “Oh, fuck.” he whispered, eyes widening in surprise at how hard he’d become. He was leaking already, a drop settled against his stomach. Moving without realizing, his hand raised to his lips, fingers slipping past as a groan fell free. When was the last time he’d been this worked up? Especially after having been with someone only three nights prior? He couldn’t remember, but god, it felt nice to have something in his mouth.

Would be better if it was 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦- anyone. He let the digits slip from his mouth to reach down, grasping himself and moaning at the feeling. His hips shifted, meeting his hand with each downward pull. “Yes, yes-” he whispered, head falling back against the pillows once more. Makio had gone down on him three nights ago; she’d been good. Wickedly good, her mouth hot and the suction just right. “Please, don’t stop,” too goo, too good-

He had to slow his hand, chest rising and falling quickly. Too quickly- oh, he didn’t want this to end just yet. No, not as his mind brought forth such a lovely idea- something that Tengen had brought up. The idea of Tengen settled between his thighs and Suma on his cock, Hinatsuru on his face. But his mind, those images changed- Tengen still between his thighs, but it was not Suma riding him. No, it was dark hair, his head tilted back as he rode, gripping at Tengen’s arms. “Just like that, Tomioka, just like that,” he murmured, lost in his fantasy.

If he were home, he’d have something to fill himself with- but alas, he was not, and didn’t feel like taking the time to prep himself. That meant stopping, and sweet Buddha, he did not want to stop. He could picture the feeling well enough- hell, he 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 what it felt like. Tengen was large- larger than himself in length and girth, but that was no big surprise. Tengen in general was a big man. Of course he’d be big.

Oh his face- oh, his sweet kohai would sit, so shy and nervous! How she’d tremble with every flick of his tongue against her clit, how she’d watch the way Giyuu’s face would contort, how he’d be begging for Kyo to go deeper- but Tengen was in charge here. He’d set the pace for them all. Kyojuro was just there to be used for their pleasure- that’s all. He could almost feel how Mitsuri would clench her thighs around his head, could picture so easily how her head would fall back, her hands clutching at her chest as she would sob. She was a crier-

He knew that from experience.

“There-” he gasped, hand speeding up around himself. Close, so close. “Don’t stop, baby- yes, god, just like that, just like that- Tengen-fuck!” He jolted, hand stilling for a moment as his orgasm took him by surprise. His eyes were screwed shut, blood roaring in his ears so loudly he never heard the door open, shut- didn’t hear the footsteps that came closer.

Only when a hand cupped his cheek and drew him into a deep, hungry kiss did he realize who had entered his room. Uzui- alone, but he had a key to his room. Of course he would have come to check on him. He slowly released himself as Tengen kissed him almost lazily before he pulled back. “I’d been calling your name for a few minutes- figured you’d gone to bed until I heard…” He trailed off, gesturing to Kyojuro’s current state.

“I- apologize. I hadn’t even heard you over myself!” He joked, shifting to cover himself- only for Uzui’s hand to reach out and grasp his wrist. He blinked, head tilting in a rather owlish manner.

“We leave in the morning,” Tengen began as he settled onto the bed, free hand reaching down to undo the ties of his yukata, “but I wouldn’t mind one more night of pleasure. That is, if you don’t?” He paused, ruby gaze drifting to Kyojuro-

Who looked ready to explode. A smile crooked the shinobi’s lips. “That’s a good boy,” he murmured as Kyojuro leaned forward, grabbing at his face and drawing him in and down for another biting kiss.

[aewhore]

Hi! I was wondering if you could maybe write a threesome smut between penelope ford, kip sabian, and a female reader?

Three’s a Party ~ Kip Sabian & Penelope Ford x fem! reader (NSFW)  

Request by @unusem13 (I hope you like it!!)

Walking around the backstage area of AEW Dynamite was always a weird time, there was always loads of people around and the energy was intoxicating. You were preparing for your match tonight against Penelope Ford, You had been feuding for the last 2 weeks after Kip had begun to feud with your tag team partner and overall best friend Hangman Adam Page, you had joined Page to assist at ringside when Penelope attacked you leading to your intergender tag match tonight. This was going to be a tough match for you. You hadn’t told anyone, not even Adam but you had a history with Penelope. You had dated back when you both were in the indies and you had to end it when you went to Japan but Penelope stayed in the states.  

You both hadn’t been in the same company let alone the same ring in at least 4 years. So now as you stand in the ring with Adam waiting for Penelope to make her entrance you can feel your nerves eating you alive. Her music plays and the crowd starts to boo herself, Kip and Miro, as they strut out of the heels entrance onto the ramp and towards the ring. “Let’s go Y/N! Put her away fast and drinks are on me tonight!” You’re snapped back to reality by Adam slapping you on the back and yelling encouragement over Penelope’s music. You smiled at Adam before looking back at Penelope on the other side of the ring to see she’s already staring at you. Something flashes in her eyes but she turns away towards her fiance before you can truly understand what she was thinking. The ref enters the ring and you and Adam decide that you should begin the match. 

The bell rings and you cautiously approach Ford to lock up to begin the match but she catches you off guard with a swift punch to the jaw knocking you backwards. You stand back up to square up to Ford. You had hoped to have a fair fight but Penelope had other plans when she slapped you starting a striking exchange between the two of you. Emotions were getting the better of you as you ignored Adam’s attempts to tag in, instead of focusing on causing Ford the most pain possible. The numbers advantage overwhelmed you when you and Ford spilt to the outside and Kip got in a few cheap shots. When you’re rolled back into the ring you get a burst of adrenaline and sprint towards Adam for the hot tag. You collapse on the ring apron as you watch your favourite cowboy clean house wiping out kip and Miro but leaving Chuckie standing (cos he ain’t do nothing wrong) 

You gather yourself on the apron as you watch your best friend do what he does best and beat Kip all around the ring. Miro gets involved and Adam loses the upper hand and you start a chant with the crowd to motivate Hangman to get back to your corner to tag you in. You’re so invested in getting Adam to get back to your corner, back to safety that you don’t notice Penelope had run around from her corner to yours to pull your legs out from under you, causing you to crash down, hitting you face on the apron on your way down. Agonizing pain rang through your skull as you curled up on the floor holding your head. You try to stand but your vision is blurred and you sway when you try to stand. You rely on the apron to hold yourself as your eyes focus. You see Kip hitting Adam with his finisher and you try to get into the ring to break up the pin but you’re too slow. Your heart sinks, you and Adam lost the match, had you paid attention, you would have won.  

You and Adam lean on each other as you make your way to the medics room. “I’m sorry Adam, I’m not a good tag team partner” you confess as you sit upon the medics bench. “Don’t worry about it darling, I ain’t the best teammate either” you both let out a pained chuckle as the doc comes over to check on you. There was a gentle knock on the door before a stagehand entered to call Adam to an important booking meeting. “I’m sorry darling I need to go, you’ll be okay. Call me when you get back to your hotel room ok?” you were saddened to see Adam go as you hate being in the medics room alone but he’s needed elsewhere. “Ok cowboy, I’ll call you later.” he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. The medic begins running tests on you after hangman leaves. “Alright Y/N, I’ll be back in a few moments with your diagnosis.” You hear the door open but you don’t hear it close so you turn your head to see the door open and Penelope and Kip standing in the doorway. 

“I thought you hated being in medic rooms alone,” Penelope asks as she enters the room to lean on the medics bench opposite you. “I do hate it, Adam had to leave and your little stunt may have given me a concussion so I didn’t exactly have a choice now did I?” You could stay angry at Ford so your eyes stayed glued to your shoes as you ranted at her. “Oh Y/N, don’t act like you want an apology, if the shoe was on the other foot you would have done the exact same thing.” Your eyes snap up to Ford as you try to think of a retort. “Oh would you two just kiss and make up already, all this tension is making me sick.” You and Penelope break eye contact when Kip groans from the other side of the medics room. You both stutter and try to come up with some sort of response when the doc comes through the door. Kip moves towards Penelope and puts his arm around her midsection before turning towards you. “Listen Y/N, I think I know exactly what will put an end to this tension between the two of you. After the show, room 254. I’ll explain if you show up” and with that, he leads Penelope out of the room. You follow the two of them with your eyes before the doc interrupts you. “Ok Y/N, I ran tests and it doesn’t look too bad, so you won’t have to go to the hospital but I would still recommend that you take the week off just to rest up.” you’re relieved that you won’t have to go to the hospital so you thank the doc and excuse yourself as fast as possible to go to the locker room to grab your things and get out of daily’s place as fast as possible. 

You get back to your hotel and have a long, hot shower to relax your muscles. When you get out you check your phone to see that Dynamite will end in a few minutes. Your mind mulls over Kip’s proposal, you wanted to know what the English man had in mind but what if you and Penelope couldn’t get past your tension. You dry your hair and get dressed before sitting on the bed, lost in your thoughts you grab your phone and text Adam that your Ok. you lock your phone and see you still have time. “Fuck it, what do I have to lose?” you mutter before grabbing your room key and making your way to the elevator. You exit on the second floor and your anxiety grows in your stomach. You stand at the door, the numbers 254 in a worn gold nailed to the door. You had to psych yourself up but your hand still raises to knock twice on the wooden door. You hear movement on the other side of the door before it unlocks and it opens to reveal Kip in his signature crop top and low sitting tracksuit bottoms revealing the top band of his designer boxers. 

“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you doll” Kip’s arrogance rolls off him as he moves slightly to allow you to walk into the room. “It’s good to see you too Sabian” You walk into the room to see Penelope sitting on the bed on her phone before she looks up at you and a small smile graces her face, you smile back before you hear Kip walk up behind you. “I’m guessing you're wondering why I asked you to come here.” you turn to see Kip smiling at you. You nod at him, signaling for Kip to continue. “Well Y/N, I have noticed that you and my fiancee have a lot of tension, so myself and Penelope have spoken about what we can do to settle this.” Your eyes dart between Ford and Sabian as you try to understand what Kip is saying. “I still love you Y/N” you gasp at Penelope’s confession, she stands and begins to walk towards you. “Wrestling you tonight tore me up, and seeing Adam have to help you to the back broke my heart, I’m sorry and I’d like to make it up to you tonight.” You smile at Penelope but frown when you realize that you still haven’t been told what you all are doing tonight. Your thoughts are interrupted when Penelope smashes her lips against yours, Your shock melts into lust as you melt into Penelope’s touch. Her lips were as soft as you remembered and her hands moved up to hold your jaw. You both break apart and gasp to catch your breath.  

You felt someone press against you back and you identify it as Kip. You smile at the supposedly cocky English man’s need for attention. “See! I told you, you guys could kiss and make up” he grumbles before laying gentle kisses on your neck. You and Penelope make eye contact before you say. “Aw kip, was someone feeling a bit left out?” you giggle slightly. “I think we can make room for him, couldn’t we Y/N?” Penelope plays along with you in teasing Kip. You turn your head to face Kip before placing your hand under his chin and bringing him in to kiss you. His stubble is a rough contrast to his soft lips and strong hands gripping your hips. You grind your hips back against Kip’s growing erection. You feel Penelope trailing kisses along your neck and trails down your chest. You moan as Penelope’s hands move to massage your breasts, your back arches towards her. You and Kip break apart and Penelope leans back away from you, all three of you are breathing deeply when an idea pops into your head. “We’re all wearing too many clothes.” Before you can fully finish your sentence Penelope’s hands reach for the rim of your shirt and Kip’s hand hook onto your leggings. You’re left in your bra and panties as you reach to unzip Penelope’s jeans and tug them down. You see Kip’s shirt fall to the floor followed by his pants. When you are all left in your undergarments, You reach your hands under Penelope’s thighs to pick her up so she wraps her thighs around your waist. You carry her towards the bed and lay her down on her back in the center of the bed. 

You settle yourself between her legs as you trail kisses from her throat down her sternum down her stomach until you reach the rim of her panties and you pull her lacy thong down her thighs and out of your way. You make eye contact with her before you begin to kiss and suck along her thigh before you begin to kitten lick her soaked slit. Her moans begin to flow out of her as you lick at her pussy, moving your mouth from her opening to her clit and back again. You were on all fours with one of your hands wrapped around one of Penelope’s thighs and another on her pelvis to keep her from bucking too much. You feel Kip settle behind you and run two fingers over your clothed wet pussy, before he hooks his finger in the crotch of your panties and pulls them down your thighs before completely ripping them off of you. Kip massaged your clit with 2 of his fingers before he slips those two fingers into you and you loudly moan against Penelope causing a domino effect creating a loud moan from her as well. You can feel Kip thrust his fingers into you and scissors them inside you giving you this euphoric feeling of being gently stretched out.  

Kip takes his fingers out of you and you whine at the feeling of loss but before you can complain he rubs the head of his cock along your folds and you go to move your head to moan but Penelope grabs your hair to keep your focus between her thighs. Kip slowly pushes his cock into you, you can feel Kip’s cock fill you perfectly as he pushes inside you before he nudges against your G spot which makes your eye roll into the back of your head at the sensory overload. Kip thrusts into you at a toe-curling pace and you can’t help but fuck your hips back onto him. You take a break from sucking Penelope’s clit to wet your middle and ring fingers so you can plunge them into her needy hole causing her to arch her back completely off the bed and grind against your fingers and mouth. You match Kip’s thrusting pace with your fingers as you feel your orgasm get nearer and nearer. You latch your mouth back onto Penelope’s clit and her hand in your hair tightens as she screams out your name. You feel her pussy tighten around your fingers as a blast of wetness hits your face, you continue thrusting your fingers into her, fucking her through her orgasm. The coil in your pelvis gets tighter and tighter before Kip reaches one of his hands around to rub tight circles on your clit and the coil snaps as you cum all over Kip’s cock. Your pussy tightening and the added moisture causes Kip’s thrusts to stutter as he thrusts deeply into you one last time before painting your walls with his cum.  

You all collapse into a tangle of limbs as you lay in the center with Kip’s arm wrapped around your chest with Penelope’s leg thrown over your hip. Penelope’s hand came up to caress your jaw and you can’t help but melt into her hand. “So is it safe to say that the tension between the two of you is gone?” Kip jokes as he nuzzles into your neck. “Hm, I don’t know, I think we’ll have to do this again sometime to really get all the tension out” Penelope jokes before she kisses your cheek. You giggle as you think, oh you’ll definitely be doing this again sometime.

[unholy-sacrificial-mutt]

Without a screen

So this is a birthday oneshot and art for @hetacon​ and holy shit if i didnt enjoy writing this fluff! I hope you like it as much as i did! <3 Happy birthday Kiddo!

Word count: 1661

Pairing: Prinxiety (Pure fluff!)

Warning: Anxiety mentioned (If there is more let me know)

Description: How would you react to meeting your partner in real life for the first time. after two years.

Roman was nervous. He was so nervous. He had never been this nervous. He had auditioned for major parts in big plays with scouters in the audience. He had gotten into fights protecting the honor of his friends and himself with people 6 times his size. He had stood his ground in front of his toxic and abusive parents, quickly moving out with his brother. He had done all this and so much more, yet /this/ is what made him nervous. Standing with flowers in his hands, bouncing from leg to leg as he tried not to pace, he bit his bottom lip and looked at his phone. It was open to the last message Virgil had sent him. ‘Just landed. In the back though T-T’. It was sent 7 minutes ago, but it felt like an hour. It felt like forever since he got that message and his stomach flipped as he got more and more nervous as more and more time passed. People who walked by him would give him strange looks and knowing smiles, but none of them mattered. All that mattered was looking for his purple-tip haired boyfriend. He looked over at his phone once more, rereading the message and the time stamp before calculating how much time had passed. Only another minute had gone by. 

Virgil bounced his leg as he sat in the back of the plane, watching people so god damn slowly grab their bags out of the overhead bins. He let out a quiet groan, just waiting to get out of the plane. He hated flying, but the reason he was subjecting himself to it was worth it. It was worth the anxiety he felt as the plane jostled around in the sky because of turbulence. The crowded plane filled with unknown people. It was worth it. His long distance boyfriend was worth it. Oh yeah. There was another thing to worry about. What if Roman didn't like the way he looked. Sure they had been on video calls the 2 years they had been together, but real life was always different from a video or picture. Real life was very scary.Virgil took a deep breath and tried to calm his hands from wringing the edge of Romans jacket, a gift received on his last birthday. It was the only white piece of clothing he owned and he wore it every day if he could. He took a quick drink of his iced coffee, which also probably wasn't helping with his anxiety, but when you take a redeye flight, you need it. He rested his head back against the chair, the plane only half way emptied, people still taking their god damn time. 

Roman had begun pacing, his stomach doing more flips than a gymnast in the Olympics. He sat down on the metal bench, careful not to grip the flowers too tightly as his legs bounced, running a hand through his golden hair. He wanted to scream, something to get all of these emotions out. His hands shook softly, playing with the leather bracelet Virgil had made him for last Valentines day. He trace the letters that spelled out “My Princey” and his hands stilled. Two years. Two years and they are just finally meeting. And it all started with an online argument about Disney. It moved from Tumblr comments to dm’s. The first 3 months of knowing each other was constant bickering and fighting, and yes they still did that, but it was more loving now. He sighed, leaning back and looking up at the metal ceiling, eyes looking over to the stairs he was supposed to come down. 

Virgil had grabbed his carry on bag and drink, quickly rushing out of the plane, his short hair flying behind him as he looked around figuring out which way to go. He rushed past people, mumbling “sorry” and “excuse me” as he did. He needed to see Roman. He was so close, and he felt if he didn't hurry, he was going to lose his chance. He followed the signs to baggage claim, swerving through the crowd. Stopping to catch his breath and standing at the top of the stairs to look through the multitude of people, his eyes watered as he spotted the golden haired man he was looking for. He quickly began running down the stairs, faster than he had ever run before in his life, duffel bag accidentally hitting a few hips and shins as he did. 

Roman saw him. His purple tipped emo daydream. He stood up, blinking as if to make sure it was really him. He couldn't believe it. He knew he was here to pick him up, but he still couldn't believe it. He brought his free hand to his arm, pinching himself hard. Nope. not dreaming. Seeing Virgil rush down the stairs, through also worrying him, gave him a sense of hurry. He ran through the crowd, twirling as he almost collided into someone. 

They were within feet of each other when Roman dropped the flowers and Virgil’s coffee fell to the floor as well, their arms wrapped around each other with an intensity that could have knocked the wind out of both of them if they weren’t already winded from running and anxiety. Virgil shoved his face into Romans, taking in his scent as tears rolled down his cheeks. He smelt of Earth and Cinnamon. Just how Virgil imagined.

“You’re here. You’re real. This wasn't just some long elaborate joke.” Virgil's voice was quietly, barely audible above the white nose that was the airport. Roman’s own eyes were watering as he sniffed, his face burying itself into Virgil's hair, smelling the fresh hair dye. 

“I’m here. You’re here.” He let out a watery chuckle into Virgil’s hair, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “This is real. This is real. Gods i love you, Virgil. I love you and you’re here.” Roman babbled. Virgil let out his own chuckle, pulling back and standing on the balls of his feet to kiss his love deeply. Both of them have been dreaming of this moment forever, and it was just like the books and movies say. Sparks exploded in both their stomachs as Roman’s hands wrapped tighter around Virgil's waist and Virgil’s hand made their way to the back of Roman’s head, tangling his fingers into the others hair. They kissed with two years of longing. Roman laughed against his lover’s lips, wrapping his arms tighter as he lifted Virgil into the air slightly. Virgil let out a squeak as the loss of contact with the floor before he too let out a watery giggle, continuing the kiss. Roman spun them quickly before putting Virgil back down, both their arms still connected in some way with the other. 

“I love you too, Princey.” Roman’s face flushed at the nickname. Hearing it in person was something he never wanted to live without again. 

“Now Stormcloud, you wound me. I have a name you know.” It was Virgil’s turn to blush, coming to the same realization about the nickname. He tried to cover it up with a scoff as he rolled his eyes, looking away. 

“I love you too, Roman.” He mumbled, feigning annoyance, to which Roman beamed, leaning down to kiss the other again. Virgil, after getting lost in the kiss, finally remembered they were in public. He pushed Roman away gently, lips parted breathlessly. “Ro, we need to get my bag. At least wait till we get back to the car.” Roman blushed, rubbing the back of his head as he took one of Virgil’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers. He never wanted their skin contact to end. 

“Sorry, mi amore. I shall try my hardest to restrain myself from your beautiful lips.” Virgil blushed deeply, giving roman a soft shove with his hip, but not pulling his hand out of the other’s. Virgil looked down at his spilt coffee and Romans flowers. Roman following his gaze chuckled softly, bending down to pick up the red and purple roses, shaking some of the iced coffee off them. “I got these for you. I know you said /not/ to get you anything, but i wanted to.” Virgil took the flowers, smiling softly. He did tell Roman not to get him anything, but he appreciated it anyway. He smelled them, his nose burying into a rose before chuckling softly. 

“I love the smell of coffee and roses.” Roman laughed, a hearty sound that was so much more joyful in person than over a video. He picked up the now empty cup and looked at Virgil apologetically.

“Well good thing I /totally/ planned that.” Virgil scoffed at the obvious lie, taking the cup from his love, flowers under his arm as he tossed it into a nearby trash can. 

“If you planned that, you owe me a new coffee.” 

“If you insist, My dark prince.” Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman’s comment, as said boyfriend picked up his duffel bag. He watched the taller male begin to talk about all the things he had planned for the two weeks they got to spend together as they began walking to the baggage claim. He didn't hear half of it as he just watched his boyfriend,  taking in the features of the other without a screen in the way. Roman turned to Virgil, his sentences trailing off at the look his lover was giving him. One of wonder, of awe, of love. Roman blushed deeply as Virgil reached a hand out to touch his cheek, smiling softly at him as he smiled back. At that moment, standing in the airport’s baggage claim, both internally decided they were going to fight for one another. Fight for their relationship to work. They would work twice as hard to move in together. They would fight to have the life they have been dreaming of. A life without a screen between them.

[junswishes]

Full of You.

Dear Rosie,

By the time I'm writing this, you can picture me sitting on the floor, leaning on the couch for I just arrived. Mom initiated what so called "family-time". Though I might say it was quite successful since we were missing a member, you know who I'm talking about. No one really pressured me today, which is I'm grateful of.

I did a lot today, had lunch in a different city, drank milk tea twice and played an escape room game. I promised to tell you about it on KakaoTalk! Yeah, I spammed you.

Shall we start from lunch? "YES, BABOYASHI!" in Rosie's voice.

I didn't eat rice, to begin with. Yet I ate enough to make my stomach full, up until now. Can you imagine how much I ate?! Like, two full plates of beef. No, I am not a cannibal. I am not eating myself. I know you think of me as a cow!

I admit though, I was chuckling while eating because what I ate reminded me of you. ARGH.

Please, pretend that you don't read that part. Scratch that out. Pft.

OKAY, MOVING ON TO THE PART WHEN I HAD MILK TEA. It was pretty good, I could say it has the same luxury taste like KOI. I bet you will like it. Promise myself that I would take you there one day if we had the chance, okay? Okay. I am answering for the sake of you. XIXIXIXI.

This is not even the end of this post but I can hear your voice in my head. "Gendut." I miss you. I even miss your Ben's voice.

Anyway, NEXT THING! Jun is back to his habitat of a drinker. This time it's not drinks, though. Just some Liquor Ice Cream which I think is quite easy to remake. It was good although I'm not a big fan of ice cream.

FOR THE LAST PART. DRUM SOUNDS. DURURURURU.

The escape room game was a shit. I hit my leg to some sort of a chair? The genre is a thriller and horror one, bringing up the story of zombies. Have you ever watched a film called, "28 Days Later"? It was an old one, I didn't notice it at first too. The game master did a great job by using our fear and curiosity, but I hate the jumpscares. Tck. The only cool part is that we are allowed to bring a gun. Simulation of zombie-apocalypse, surely I would be die.

YOU KNOW WHAT'S FUNNY? THOSE WORDS WHEN YOU SAID WHILE WATCHING "A QUIET PLACE PART II", IT WAS IN MY HEAD. Rosie always manages to sneak in my head like she's supposed to. If we ever had to face that kind of apocalypse, we would be alive because of the promise we made. Damn.

I'm so full of you, every time.

Love,

Jun, who spammed your KakaoTalk on Andrew because he had spilt seconds difference with you.

p.s. read the message below! I love you very much. 🤍

[glass-frogs-and-dragons]

As Death whispered his name

Fandom: -

Warnings: Death (technically)

This is slightly different (originally it was supposed to be Reaper!Thranduil and Bard but I guess it can be read as whatever you want), but I tried writing poetry- tell me what you think!

A gentle caress made him open his eyes

A kind voice before him said:

“Please stay calm, don’t panic

But I am afraid you are dead”

He looked better at his figure

Their blue eyes cold as ice

He reached his hand out to touch them

But their head tilt made him think twice.

His hands trembled

As Death whispered his name

Their eyes fixed on him

With their ice-cold fame.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said

Gazing at their silver-blond hair

He tried to continue, words died at his throat

Transfixed by their intense stare

“I know not what you were planning on telling asking me,”

The being took a deep breath.

“Some people call me ‘grim’, or ‘reaper

But I much prefer to be called Death.”

He could not help but shiver

As Death whispered his name

The blond being still observing him

As his tan skin all but aflame

The mortal man was startled

But he supposed that it could be true

After all their appearance was just perception

And he always dreamt of eyes so blue

The ethereal being laughed at his face

Holding out a goblet of wine

“You might want a drink,” they mentioned,

“For all we have is time.”

He felt his cheeks heat up

As Death whispered his name

He averted his eyes, embarrassed,

Though they could both feel the burning flame

“You seem far too calm, all considered,

This is the first time you die,”

The man frowned, then sighed, then chuckled

And prepared himself for his reply.

“I have lived my life fully,

I have loved, laughed, fought and cried,

When I was hit, I hit back

I forced myself to stand with pride.

I took care of my children,

Made sure they had food and a bed

I helped them get a better life than me,”

In tears the mortal said.

“I’m not glad that I left them

But I understand it was my time,

I’m not proud of the mistakes I made

But to love was never a crime.”

A rush of comfort invaded him

As Death whispered his name

For the pain he’d endured, the hardships he’d lived

Disappeared once he entered their domain

A flash of sadness clouded their eyes

The being’s lips curled into a smile

“Tell me about yourself,” they hummed

“After all, we’ll be here a while,”

After a few goblets he could not hold his thoughts

He was so happy he seemed to glow

“You remind me of someone, you see”

A handsome man I used to know.”

The mortal continued drinking

Oblivious to the sudden distress

That the reaper was currently feeling

Something they could no longer suppress.

The human beside them smiled

As Death whispered his name

The scythe holder kept an eye on him

Keeping their demeanour arcane.

Memories resurfaced like corpses on a river

Feelings re-flourished like poppies after a war

Rose-tinted reminders of their time together bombarded them

The recognition of him shook them to the core

The being closed their ice-blue eyes

Picturing a time where they felt joy

Of days that were laced with happiness

Before their life he was forced to destroy

His whole body shook

As Death whispered his name

The wine spilt on the floor

With a cry barely refrained

The mortal’s name fell from their lips

Their golden voice clouded with grief

The man halted, he fell silent

His chestnut eyes wide in disbelief

“So you do remember me,” They whispered

The man nodded dumbly and said

“How do you think I could ever forget

The person I was about to wed?”

The mortal caressed their cheek, smiling

As Death whispered his name.

As now not even Death could part them,

Eternal lovers they became

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 80

Chapter Summary -   Tom comes to terms with Danielle's leaving.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

The Magdalen is not a happy book, very depressing in that it actually happened a lot in Ireland.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom lay awake in his bed, thinking of the day before. He had slept very little, all that he could think about was the conflict in Danielle's eyes before she put her hand on his chest and gently pressed for him to get off her. He had felt different versions of disappointment before, from not winning awards, from his parents' separation and subsequent divorce, to not getting jobs he wanted but when Danielle declined him, when she said she needed to take time away, he felt a pang of heart-breaking disappointment not like the others and it hurt.

He looked over to the side of the bed she usually took, it smelled of her, her book that she had been reading on the nightstand, she had left it in her rush to leave. He reached over and looked at the cover, "The Magdalen" he didn't know it, so he read the back cover; the last thing it could be accused of being was light reading if the description was anything to go by. He opened it where she had left a scrap of paper as a bookmark, he noticed immediately it was his writing on the paper, he read over it and swallowed. A note, he had scribbled it one afternoon when she was gone out to the shops because Luke had asked him to the office, there was an issue that needed immediate rectifying. But at the end was a quote, one he had taken from something he had read only a day or two before, it reminded him immediately of her "You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love, I love, I LOVE YOU.— Pride & Prejudice". He knew she loved that book, and him writing it to her had clearly meant something to her, she had kept it. In a mixture of sadness and anger, he threw the book off the bed, cursing why he had not had the cop on to tell her more about the interview, or just apologise immediately rather than think little of it.

She had struck a few low blows too with her calling him fame-hungry but it was after she had been hurt and he knew Danielle, he knew if she wanted to be brutal, she could, he witnessed it first hand with everything with Taylor, she was trying to get him to feel a fraction of what she had, successfully enough.

His thoughts went back to her words as she left and he found himself praying that with time apart, she would see that though they had a few things to work through, she would want to continue their relationship. As he turned on his phone, he felt himself become more disappointed as he realised she had not contacted him.

*

Mac panted heavily as they returned from their run, they had been spotted in the park by photographers that were clearly waiting for someone else. They took a photo or two, Taylor's name was something that seemed to be audible in the muffle of words, but overall, they were not overly bothered with him. Thankfully, Tom was becoming less interesting to people once more, he hoped that with time, it would die down again, the magazine interview, which featured more about Taylor than he had planned, had piqued people's interest again, but it would die down, it always did. "That was a good run for today." He scratched Mac's ear as the dog sat waiting for him to remove his collar and lead. "We had better get something to drink." He filled Mac's bowl and placed it down for him, watching as the dog spilt more on the floor than could possibly have gotten into his mouth. "We need to get something for that."

He went and checked his phone, realising that Luke had sent him an email, his agent had sent him two and there was a text. He was going to leave it but he decided to check it, it was from Benedict, simply asking if he had started patching things up. In need of an understanding and somewhat intelligent ear, he pressed the call button.

"Hey, Tom."

"Are you free?"

"Shit, still bad?"

"Better." It was honest at least.

"But not good?"

"No."

"Right, do you want to come round, Sophie is gone to some pregnancy yoga thing, I have no idea what really, they seem to just use it to have others to understand crappy pregnancy stuff more than anything."

"Sure I'll just get Mac settled and head over."

"Wait, the dog is there?"

"Yes."

"So Elle is still there?"

"No."

"But she left Mac, that's a good thing, right?"

"Hopefully."

"Right, get your arse over here, clearly I need to hear everything."

Tom hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen again to a very remorseful looking Mac, who seemed to be trying to use his body to hide his water drinking mess. "What are you doing?" Tom chuckled. Mac lowered his head guilty. Taking out his phone, Tom took a photo, he was about to add it to a text to Danielle but stopped himself. She said she needed space, he wanted to respect that, to show her that he was able to actually listen to her, since his actions the day before made her think he did not. "I'll have to show her when she comes home." He smiles sadly at the dog before putting the phone away again and getting kitchen towel to clean the mess.

*

"Hey." Benedict opened the door. "Kettle's on."

"Good." Tom gave his friend a smile as he walked in the door.

"Right so, a PG-rated version of after the phone call if you don't mind." Ben indicated to Christopher, who was currently "eating" food in the form of smashing it around the bowl.

"There was very little swearing."

"A good sign," Ben interjected.

"She said how it upset her, and that she wanted to hate me but couldn't."

"Ouch."

"And how she needed time to just back away from things, she was feeling as though she could make a mistake that she could regret if she stayed."

"And you think she means that staying with you, working it out is a mistake?"

Tom scoffed. "You think it's not what she meant?"

"She could also mean that she could call it quits and regret that, that she loves you and that she doesn't want to risk losing you."

"A tad far fetched."

"Not really. Did she say specifically that she thought to stay was a mistake?"

"No, she said if she stayed she'd forgive me too easily."

"Not the same." Ben shook his head. "Sounds like she wants to make you realise your mistakes in this too." Tom looked at him sceptically. "How long is she in Ireland?"

"Until next Monday."

"Right, so a week. Use the week to your advantage, take some time, assess yourself, assess what you want and what you need to do to achieve it. Hopefully, she will do the same and you will both arrive at the same place."

"And if we don't?"

"Accept, cherish what was and move on."

"You sound like some sort of self-help guru wannabe."

"I do a lot of mindfulness. You see the world differently when you take the time to step back, it means a lot of self-reflection and critiquing."

"How do you find it?"

"Most of the time, pretty good."

"The rest of the time?"

"Sometimes I realise things about myself that frankly, I don't like, so I see how best to change the things that bother me," Ben answered honestly.

Thank you for the advice."

"Anytime."

"How is Sophie?"

"Good, she went to the spa day that Elle suggested, met a mom there that suggested she go to this yoga class twice a week and honestly, she has been so much more upbeat even on the tiring days now, I think she just needed to feel human and not like a balloon for a few times a week."

"How much longer?"

"Bout a month, so she is looking forward to that, though the idea of another lot of night feeds and a tonne of nappies is not so appealing."

"No," Tom tried to stay smiling as he thought of all of that.

"What's running through your mind?"

"I just thought, you know, maybe it was my turn, that I finally…"

"Okay, you need to stop this, right now. First of all, it is just a fight, all is not lost, Elle will relax when she takes the time to think things through, she loves you, so much it is actually equal parts adorable and nauseating. Clearly, you mean an incredible amount to her, but she is hurt, which is understandable and from what I gather, she, as an only child, is not used to having people around her, even siblings, after a fight, she is just taking time to regroup her thoughts now. I refuse to think she will leave this, she loves you almost as much as you love her I think."

Tom was about to argue when his phone rang. He looked at it and groaned. "Emma, she knows something is going on."

"Well, you can't avoid her forever."

Tom groaned again and pressed the answer button. "Hey, Emma."

"So, have you fixed everything?" Tom tried to think of a diplomatic answer. "You're an idiot." She sounded exasperated. "Seriously mum is going to lose the plot with you when she finds out."

"We are just working through things," Tom explained.

"What did you do?"

"I made a bit of a balls of something, but I am trying to fix it."

"If I lose my friend because you are an ass…"

"If Elle stops talking to you because of me, then that is wrong of her." Benedict nodded at that particular statement.

"Okay, I'll give you that, but you would make things awkward and she might avoid me when you are around."

"Yes, I would be at fault there." Tom conceded. "She is gone home to Ireland for a few days, I will be talking to her, I am working on it, Em."

There was a moment of silence on the phone. "Okay, if she is too much of a bitch, let me know. She needs to be a bit of one to get you to cop on, but too much and I will try and get her to back off."

Tom smiled a little, it was true, Danielle could get vicious and would admit herself she could be a bitch, and yes, he deserved some of it for his actions but knew that if she got too stubborn, she would not forgive him, he needed his sister on his side. "Thanks, Em." The siblings said their goodbyes and Tom hung up the phone, "Sorry."

"Don't be, it sounds like I'm not the only one who wants this to just be a small bump on the road for you guys."

"Poor Em is really in a ‘no man's land’. It would be everything she ever feared."

"Positive thinking Tom, it will be fine, you just need to work through it. Nothing is harder, the first bad fight is hard, fighting for what is worth fighting for is incredibly so."

"You are being annoyingly positive and adult right now."

"Yes and you are being somewhat pig-headed," Ben joked. "Give it all some time."

"And if not?

"There is nothing you can do, if Danielle feels it is better to call it quits, you can only respect that and try and find someone else in time."

Tom sighed. "I didn't think the article would focus that much on Taylor."

"It was the first time you spoke about it, of course, any magazine would jump on that, though I expected more from GQ."

"That's why I said it to them, I thought it would be a paragraph, nothing more, instead it was the most of the piece, pictures and all."

"Nothing you can do about it now."

"It's done." Tom nodded sadly. "That's what Elle's dad used to say, it's done."

"Good mantra to have." Benedict agreed. "Now, what're your plans for the next few days?"

"Milan fashion week."

Ben chuckled, "Because that is so you." He scoffed.

"Gucci made it part of the contract."

"So you wear some gear, enjoy and when you get back, talk to Danielle, she'll be back by then, right?"

"She seemed to indicate she would be, yeah."

"Good stuff. Plan and think through things until then."

[pixeladventures]

Sims Traits Tag

If you were a Sim, what 6 traits and lifetime wish would you have? Feel free to tag 5–10 (or even more!) fellow simmers to keep this community lively.

Traits:

Loner - I am pretty introverted. I’m happy with just my family and my partner, I don’t do small talk, dislike meeting new people, and keep to myself. Crowded places, waaay too peopley for me! My ideal weekend is to just stay at home and chill, away from society to recharge.

Geek - I love just immersing myself on my laptop, shutting the social world away and just soaking up new information relating to my main interests. I love comic books, nerdy tv shows, films etc.

Childish - I’ve worked in day nurseries for 7 years now so it’s clear there’s something there that I relate to and work well with. It’s a pretty rewarding job, emotionally. Forming bonds with many children over the years, and I still often wonder how they’re getting on in life as they grow up etc.

Perfectionist - Totally me. I stress myself out, procastinating, putting things off, because I often feel I haven’t got the time or knowledge to put 100% of myself into a task, and if I can’t do it 100%, I lose all motivation and interest in it. It’s no longer worth doing in my mind, and then I stress out even more.

Clumsy - I am forever tripping over chairs at work, like at least twice a day, minimum. In my defence, they are chairs built for tiny humans, and those tiny humans drag them around and leave them in places for me to trip. I once spilt spaghetti meatballs all over my laptop, pure clumsiness. Regularly spill drinks and food.

Dog Lover - I had two dogs growing up, and my aunts/uncles/grandparents always had dogs around. Since my last dog passed, I’d waited 7 years to get a dog, when my slobber monster walked into our lives. He’s a royal pain in the arse, but I wouldn’t be without him. I’m one of those people that if I’m having a crappy day, I’ll watch youtube videos about dogs being adopted so I can have a happy cry. Nothing makes me cry quicker than animal videos.

Aspiration:

Friend of the Animals - I always wanted to be a vet, growing up. I eventually decided there was too much blood, medicine and loss involved. But befriending animals and gaining their trust is still awesome. Dogs are my favourite, but animals are just such pure things. I once had 14 pet rats, and it was awesome.

Tagging: Since I imagine a lot of people have done this already, consider yourself tagged if you see this and want to do it.

[theoriginalsfan124]

Halloween special

Halloween has always been a special day for her. The decorations, the costumes, the freedom to scare people and not be called out - ah what joy did it bring her. On Halloween you could be whoever you liked without getting judged.

The young woman was craving out a pumpkin to put in her yard, tomorrow was the long awaited day. She smiled to herself happily and hummed along a tune.

“One more pumpkin and I’m done…” she whispered to herself as she lived alone.

Sometimes it would get lonely, living in a Victorian style house, some would even call it creepy. However, the silence and peace she got made up for it.

Her work was interrupted with a noisy creek in her home. A home as old as hers was bound to let out weird noises especially at night and over the years she got used to it, but now, however, her stomach turned. But something was off. Nonetheless, she shook it off and continued craving a scary face in the pumpkin.

Something creaked again, this time much louder and now in her living room. Cautiously she stood up and grabbed a knife from a nearby drawer as she was in her kitchen. Slowly she left the comfort of her kitchen and walked into the dining room.

It looked normal, nothing moved, nothing there. But from the archway she could see directly into her living room. But again she saw nothing abnormal. Cursing herself in her mind, the young woman went into the other room, knife still in hand. The moment she turned on the light, she almost dropped her knife.

In the far corner of the room, which is not visible from the dining room, on a vintage armchair sat a man. A handsome one for that. He hand short blond hair that shone in the dim light, the prettiest ocean blue eyes she had ever seen, making her jealous as she had blue eyes too. He was tall and quite well built, muscular but not over the top. The black shirt he was wearing clung to him perfectly, making his six pack well seen, his black jeans tight around all the right places, his long black coat perfectly completed his look. Charming, handsome - he was all those things. Maybe if he didn’t bother her to hell and back, she would have hit him up. Sadly, he got on her bad side and all that drooling over him mowing his lawn without a shirt when he first moved next door, turned into hate.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” She yelled out.

“Now now, Caroline, such classy ladies like you don’t use such vulgar language,” he smirked drinking a glass of whiskey. “I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself to your stash.”

No words left Caroline’s mouth for a moment. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

“You’re supposed to be dead!”

“Well but I’m here,” he shrugged his shoulders, the devilish smirk not leaving his face.

“How-how did you? How are you alive?!” She was baffled beyond belief.

He said nothing in return, but instead took another swing at his glass, the rings on his finger making a “clunk” sound when he takes the glass.

“How is this even possible? I fucking murdered you myself!”

It all started in June, when he had moved next door, the previous owner of the house had been missing for a year now and has been declared dead as they found his bloody clothes in the forest. It was not often the town of Forestground got newcomers, he was the first in a while. It just happened to be he had bought the house next to her. All the previous owners had all suffered the same fate - they always went missing. Some said the house was cursed. It was not like they were saints and it seemed like all of them got a stick up their ass. From not picking up their dogs poop from their neighbors yard and ignoring it when told, to having wild parties on a weekday, to blanketly damaging the property of their neighbors.

When the newcomer came, Caroline thought it’d be different. He was young, only a couple of years older than her, he was from a big city, fairly attractive, scrap that, very attractive and most importantly he was quiet and kept to himself. At first she loved her new neighbor, even pep talk herself into inviting him to dinner sometime, it’s been a long time since she dated. Everything turned sour just as quickly as it was sweet before. Turns out he really didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything, not giving a damn fuck to anyone ( well her) when she politely complained. He mowed his lawn in the earliest of mornings, kept his windows open while blasting hard metal, never even said a good morning when he did see her going to work, fucked women who boy howdy were loud.

She tried, she really did. But there’s so much one can handle. At first she politely asked him to keep it down, close his windows at least. Then she tried being passive aggressive. Then she filed a noise complaint. Then she called the police. Nothing got through him. Finally, after yet another evening while she was listening to classical music and relaxing reading a book, he decided to listen to metal with his windows open, on full blast, yet again. She had enough.

She marched to his house and pounded on his door. He opened it and seeing her at the other side he gave her a look that said “this again?”. She didn’t say anything, but barged into his house and went straight to the speakers unplugging them. He managed to say “hey! What the hell?!”before she walked right next to him with an angry face. She was always very short, but compared to him, she looked like a dwarf. His face turned into a scowl and he was about to tell her off as he was fed up with all her antics, however, before he could manage, the young woman grabbed the knife that was in his pocket and stabbed it into his chest, right where his heart was. His knees buckled and he fell backwards to the ground, instantly dead. That didn’t stop her anger. She bludgeoned her knife in her over and over again, her hands now covered in blood. There must have been at least 20 stab wounds. Overkill -yes- but satisfying nonetheless.

She calmed down and smiled. Finally, she got her piece again. She was not stupid, she knew what to do, this wasn’t her first time. First she cleaned herself up a bit, took a shower in the downstairs bathroom of her victim, washing off all his blood. Her pants made it without blood, her shirt not so lucky, so she went to his closet and took one of his, but because of their size difference it was like a dress on her, but “it will do” she thought. Then she found where he kept his bleach and cleaning supplies. She cleaned off the knife and put it back in her pocket. She shut his eyes closed and rolled him to his side, blood seemed to be everywhere on the ground, but she knew how to handle it. She scrubbed it clean, not even a drop was left, although she couldn’t save a small rug by the entrance, so she threw it in the fireplace and set it on fire, no one would even know it was there. The next part was the hardest. She had to drag his body in his newly built garage(as his house is also Victorian style just like hers) to put in his car. It was hard as he was very heavy, she couldn’t just carry him so she had to drag him, which left a blood trail where his body hit the floor. Finally, she managed to get him into the passengers side, now what was left is to clean the blood, again. After she was done, Caroline drove his very expensive car to the forest lake. Considering it was so large that no one will find him there or even look there, they didn’t with the others.When she got there, got out of the car and pushed it into the lake. The next day that is today she went about her day unbothered, just like nothing happened.

He once again flashed her his devilish grin.

“You can’t kill what’s already dead. As they say in Game of Thrones, what is dead may never die again.”

“Fine. I’ll be more violent next time, I guess I was too tamed.”

“Tamed? You call nineteen stab wounds tamed?”

“Twenty.”

“Who cares? But I gotta give it to you, darling, no one has killed me in over twenty years, kinda tickles.” He chuckles pouring himself another glass of alcohol.

She’s speechless, she hasn’t been in a long time.

“I would have made myself appear earlier, but I saw you craving pumpkins and fairly I haven’t seen you in just jeans and sweater in like ever. I gotta say, those black jeans make your ass look fantastic.”

“When did you-?”

“I was already conscious when you pushed me in the lake, my wounds have already healed, but then I drowned, so technically you killed me twice.”

“Then why are you only here now?”

“Darling, my car, which I remind you costs a fortune, was at the bottom of a goddamn lake in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“How long have you’ve been dead for?” She finally asks slowly catching on.

“50 years.”

“Damn. I guess I missed the funeral.” Caroline regains her usually sassy self.

“Ah, there it is, the classy ladies snarky remarks.”

“Go to hell.”

“Darling, with you I'm already there.”

She had grabbed the nearest thing on her left, which was a vase, and threw it at him, her anger got the best of her. He dodged it, the vase hitting the wall and shattering, bits and pieces spilt on the floor.

“Wow there, love. You don’t want to hurt someone, now do you?”

“One more retort and you’ll regret it.”

“What are you going to do? Kill me?”

She was so pissed off by him that she wanted to just rip her hair out and he was just staring at her, clearly satisfied with what he was doing. But can you blame him?

“I’ll- I’ll”

“And I’ll go to The police, I still have the clothes plus my car is in the bottom of a fucking lake, once they start going down there, they’ll find all those people you got rid off.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

“Nothing. Everything.”

“Ugh” she rolled her eyes.

He threw his arm around her shoulders.

“This is going to be fun.”

And so an unlikely pair of murdering people were born.