#the monthly waiting never disappointed

[empty-dream]

Sousei no Onymouji (2013-2024)

[juniperjelly]

once again minecraft fans be mad for all the wrong reasons

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner - Azriel

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: four times someone notices something weird about Azriel, and that time someone figured it out.

Remember, I'm taking requests! This Azriel fic is an Azriel x reader, but she doesn't appear yet. Let me know if you want a second part with a formal introduction to the family!

Through the years, Cassian had learned a few things about Azriel. He could proudly say that, even if he wasn’t a spy master himself, he was quite observant. Picked things here and there about people, noticed small habits and routines. For example, he knew that Rhysand liked his coffee boiling hot, that Mor always brought something red from wherever she traveled, and that Feyre ordered the colors she painted with in certain way.

From all of them, he spent most time with Azriel, so it made sense that Cassian knew him. Or thought so.

Cassian knew Azriel sometimes talked to his shadows, even argued with them. The male liked his boots clean and couldn’t stand blood on his clothes. He preferred tea over coffee and liked bad jokes, even if he always scoffed at them.

Cassian thought Azriel was a picky eater. That he hated berries, because he had never seen his friend eat any.

So, when after a tough monthly shopping session for the house, he found a berries box, he opened it without a second thought. It was what he always did – eat from the box before he put it away, infatuating Rhysand, who liked everything in its place.

He only had time to open the box and touch the first berry before Azriel snatched it from his grip, tucking it away.

“Don’t touch it” he grumbled, still focused on putting the eggs away.

“Why not? Rhy’s not here. He won’t mind” he would mind, thought. Not that Cassian had cared about it. “It’s just one berry. I barely ate lunch”

“That sounds like your problem” Azriel gave him a wary look when he tried to get closer. “Don’t”

“They’re berries. Give them to me” Cassian replied, putting his palm up and waiting for his snack.

“You’ll have to wait until dinner”

Cassian frowned, because it might had been one berry, but berries were brought because he liked them and usually ended up in a bag in his room, either way. The only problem he had faced so far was Rhysand disappointed face when he found the empty box laying on the counter.

He rounded the kitchen island until he was next to Azriel. Once more, he reached for the box of berries. That time, he was met with a cold, aggressive grip on his wrist by one of his shadows.

“Dude. What’s with the berries?” he asked, staring at his unmoving wrist with morbid fascination.

“I bought them for me, they’re not for the house”

“You don’t… like berries”

Azriel seemed surprised at the statement, and finally looked at him. And for the first time in a long time, Cassian realized he had surprised him. That he had caught Azriel in a lie, or maybe in an omission of the truth. A truth he didn’t want or feel like sharing.

Maybe, any other day, Cassian would have let it go by. If it had happened with any other food, or with any other person, it wouldn’t have made him suspicious. But Azriel actually looked surprised, and Cassian had tried enough to know it was impossible to catch him in a lie.

“Well, I do now” he shrugged finally. “So keep your nasty hands out of the box”

Before Cassian could reply, the shadow holding his hand curled back into its master and Azriel winnowed away, berries in hand and a soft smile on his face.

-

Even though Mor didn’t like Azriel the way he liked her, couldn’t love him like he wanted to, she appreciated him as a friend. As a good friend, who was there for her always and through everything. And it was selfish of her, she knew, but she had grown used to the details of being loved. Appreciated, cared for. Wanted.

When she caught his gaze across the room, she was used to watching him blush and look away. When they went out to have fun, she was used to his eyes fixed on her back, not subtle at all. And worst of all, she had been kind of taking advantage of the presents he gave her every now and then.

They weren’t short of money, and Azriel had bought her many things through the years. Something she stared at, something that made him think of her. Multiple things that warmed her heart, not in the way he wanted to.

It was only logical that when she found Azriel at her door with a velvet box, looking nervous and shy, it was just that.

“Az. What a surprise” she tried to smile. Tried not to think about his dejected face once she told him she appreciated the gift but wanted to be alone. “Isn’t it too late for you to be up?”

“Yeah, I… it’s been a rough day” he shrugged.

The first indication that something was different was that he didn’t shy from her stare, nor hid the box behind his back. The second was that he didn’t leave it at her hands like a timing bomb.

Mor raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. She had been about to go to sleep, after a long day for herself, and supposed half of Velaris was already deep into it.

“Maybe you want to come in?”

She couldn’t physically let him down, drop his expectations and hurt him. More than once, she had given him false hopes in fear of losing the friendship. And when she opened a little bit farther the room of her apartment, she intended to do that.

To accept whatever he had brought her, to hug him tight and thank him, and to let him know that she was really tired and would see him tomorrow, maybe. Then, she would go to bed feeling like a horrible person.

Mor didn’t expect Azriel to open the box himself, and show her something she knew wasn’t for her.

Inside the box, was a beautiful blue sapphire necklace, encased in a silver tear that shone under the moonlight. Everything Azriel had got her, everything anyone got her, was always red. Because that was her color, that was her soul. Not blue and delicate, like the piece of jewelry he held in his hands. 

Azriel didn’t have to say anything else before she noticed the problem.

“It broke and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s… really important for me. And I need it for tonight. For right now” he rambled, like she had never seen him do. “I stayed working late and now the shop is closed”

“It’s beautiful” she whispered, having seen nothing so soft, so beautiful lately. “How did it break?”

“Doesn’t matter. Can you fix it? Like, right now?”

Azriel could have asked her to go through her own jewels and pick the most beautiful to give it to him, and she would have said yes, because she owned it to him. So she nodded and ushered him inside, with her eyes fixed on the necklace.

She didn’t mention that it was too delicate for him, that it was obviously for a woman. Mor ignored her conflicted thoughts about it as she touched the broken chain.

It only took her thirty minutes to find a chain similar to the original one, and another ten to convince Azriel to take it and don’t worry about it. Any trace of sleep erased from her body as she stared at him. At Azriel looking at the fixed necklace with a crooked smile.

“Who is it for?” she asked finally, as she opened the door for him once more. “Anyone special worth mentioning”

“No one. It’s a family relic, from my mother I think” he explained, looking between her and the open air. As if he couldn’t stand staying in the ground a second longer. “Thank you for fixing it. See you tomorrow, Mor”

Two thoughts were on her mind as she closed the door. The first one, was that she knew for a fact that blue was his color, not his mother’s color. She wore green, purple, black. Dark colors, if the portraits were correct.

The second thought, that was confirmed when she looked at her stunned face in the mirror, was that Azriel hadn’t acknowledge her outfit. A thin, black nightgown that barely covered her thighs, and that other nights had sent the shadow singer stuttering apologies right and left before leaving in a rush. 

-

Amren stared with half-closed eyes at her friends, noticing the change right away.

She usually wouldn’t entertain that type of activities, thinking ‘family game nights’ were a waste of time. But since Feyre appeared in their lives, she had to admit she liked her family better. She liked the way Rhysand softened around her, how at ease he was and how relaxed she made everyone.

True to her habits, Amren had chosen the farthest chair and the most expensive wine, and was watching the night unfold in front of her.

At the begging, she had thought it was weird that Azriel, almost as closed off as her, had walked in with a bright smile on his face. His hair had been ruffled in a windless, summer night, his shoulders wider.

It took him almost an hour to identify the new smell in the room, and find the source around his wrist. Almost unnoticeable between all of the scents combined – yet clear enough for her.

She stared at the black rubber band around his wrist, similar to the ones Cassian wore but not quite the same. Amren made it her mission to unfold the different smells and identify the new ones.

Rhysand’s was dark and fresh, like the night. His was intertwined with a sweeter one, Feyre’s, that smelt like vanilla and power. Raw, beautiful power that Amren admired.

Cassian’s was wild and abundant. He smelt like war camps and sweat, but somehow, like home too. Nesta’s scent was there too, even if the female wasn’t around. Amren could identify her just fine – and the new scent wasn’t hers.

After filtering the rest of presences, she finally focused on the band. Azriel was still unmated, that much she could tell. His was like ashes and candles. And behind all of that, she finally found it – baked bread, fresh food, vegetables.

“What are you looking at?”

Her line of sight was interrupted when Azriel pushed his sleeve farther down his arm, covering the rubber band. He knew where Amren was looking, and Amren knew that the question wasn’t rude. Still, Azriel’s voice held an edge she had only heard in Cassian or Rhysand’s voice before.

She smiled lazily at him before answering, making sure everyone was busy trying to guess what Rhysand was gesturing.

“Nothing, boy”

“You were staring quite hard for being nothing” Azriel replied. He fixed his hazel eyes on her, a hard edge on his features.

“I thought I smelt something on you” she purred, enjoying way too much the way the spymaster tensed. “Have you grown a sweet tooth lately?”

Amren usually didn’t stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She liked her life quiet, and minding other people business wasn’t her thing. Every now and then, she did like riling up Cassian or messing with Mor, but she had yet to play with the shadowsinger.

She respected him just as much, if not more, as the rest of the family. Understood the difficulty of his job, the people’s souls he carried behind. Most of their interactions were friendly and cordial, nothing more.

However, that night she felt like she had found something wort digging in.

“Do they know yet?” she asked him when Azriel didn’t answer.

“That I stopped in my way here to buy food?” even if the irritation and protectiveness fell from his face, a muscle of his jaw twitched. “Yeah. Cassian already ate half of the banana bread”

“He did, now?”

They silently stared at each other for a long minute. She dared him to deny it once more, to tell her that the smell under his sleeve was just from a quick stop to the bakery. He dared her to ask about the rubber band and give him an excuse to leave the game night.

Finally, Amren looked away and answered correctly to what Rhysand was trying to represent with gestures. Cassian got up and quickly started an argument about how to gesture correctly, while Feyre just laughed her ass off and Mor scurried off to bring more wine.

The next time Amren looked at Azriel’s wrist, the rubber band was gone.

-

The clock chimed five times in a row when the door finally opened, and Rhysand looked up from the papers on his desk. Apparently, he had to write a formal apology to the summer court in Cassian’s account, and certainly, he wasn’t any close to writing it than what he was in the afternoon.

Now, at five o`clock in the morning, his worry had gotten the best out of him. Rhysand had promised himself that, if by the time the sun came up Azriel wasn’t back, he would start destroying Illyrian camps until he found him.

“Before you say anything” Azriel rose a bloodied hand towards the high lord, and no matter how old Rhysand was, he felt his heart plummeting to the ground in worry. “Not my blood. Not even a scratch”

“Hard to believe. You’re leaving a puddle of it in my carpet” his voice was stained, his anger and worry mixing together.

“I…”

For the first time, Rhysand watched Azriel lost at words. The male looked down at his clothes, that were indeed soaked in blood and gore. He was still carrying all his swords and knives. And from where Rhysand stood behind his deck, he could see none of them had been left unused.

He had received a note from Azriel a day ago saying he was going to check on some Illyrian camps for illegal wing clipping, and that he would be gone for a few hours. Since then, Rhysand had had to deal with the worry and panic of not knowing if he was alive, since he closed his mind to Rhys.

Azriel looked back at him, and any type of sermon would have to wait until the morning. Rhysand got up and circled the desk, until he was in front of his friend. Who looked at him with sorrow and pain.

Rhysand didn’t let the surprise of seeing the shadowsinger, the spy master, so vulnerable. He only gripped his shoulder tight.

“What happened?”

“They didn’t even deny it” Azriel admitted, his voice tight. “One of the girls in the village was brave enough to show me where they keep them”

“Keep what?” even if he asked, Rhysand had a feeling he knew.

“The wings. They kept all the wings pinned to a tavern’s wall, like fucking hunting prices. Rhys, they were so… so many. So many”

He knew his brother’s history with the camps. Had seen what they do to women for himself, had fought for years against it. Still, Azriel had always been the calmer one. Cassian often went into carnages when he found an illegal clipping, but Azriel was the one to ask first and kill later. To organize trips into the mountains with reinforcements and not take decisions by himself.

The Azriel covered in blood in front of him, with tears shinning on his eyes, was new.

Rhysand was at loss as words, torn between beating him for his stupidity of leaving alone and going back himself to look for survivors and kill them slower.

“What you did… Az, anything could have happened to you” he tried to reason. “You know better than to do this on your own. What happened?”

“I got a strong hold. Knew where to find them.”

“How?”

Azriel didn’t answer, and Rhysand didn’t need to pry into his mind to know he would find it closed. Sighing, he pulled Azriel close. It didn’t matter that he was staining his clothes too, that Feyre was still waiting for him in bed and that he was ready to drop dead from worry.

Rhysand hugged Azriel and let him grip his vest until it wrinkled, until he was ready to talk. He trusted him with his life, and he had a feeling whatever was what had brought Azriel to that camp wasn’t ready to be shared yet.

He didn’t count the minutes that passed by until his body relaxed between his arms, didn’t acknowledge the wetness on his neck.

“I need to do something”

“What? Unless it’s a fucking bath and – “

“No, I won’t – it’s not what you think” Azriel took a deep breath and locked his eyes with Rhysand. The high lord nodded. “I’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise. But just tonight, I need you not to ask question. I won’t be sleeping in my dorms”

“You need to take a bath and rest”

“I will take a bath and rest”

Rhysand knew Azriel had an apartment, somewhere. He knew where Mor lived, where Amren had bought a house, but his brother had lived as long as he could remember in the wind house, with him. He didn’t have many personal details, but in the room at the end of the corridor he kept his weapons and clothes.

He even kept the horrible scarf Nesta knitted him last year that everyone else had thrown away.

Before he said anything else, something in his soul told him to shut up. To accept his request, the only one he had done in a long time, and leave the details for the next morning.

“I guess it’s time for me to go home too” he smiled softly. “Just – clean off that blood. And don’t forget to report in the morning. We need to talk”

“We will”

Without further explanation, Azriel disappeared between his shadows. And Rhysand was left with the sudden smell of burnt bread under his nose.

-

What Feyre missed the most about her human life, and from the spring court, were the quiet walks in nature. The smell of leaves and grass, the sounds of the animals and the absence of other voices. Velaris was a busy place, and even if the people were more than nice, she missed quiet.

Nyx had made sure that his mom never knew quiet again.

He was a happy baby, loud and cheerful, and slept less than any person Feyre had known. Always wide awake, smiling and babbling. Before he even turned one, she had grown used to taking midnight strolls down the Wind House like another routine.

That night, Nyx was playing with her tattooed fingers and munching on his pacifier, still managing to babble some words. Rhysand had gone to bed late and was sleeping in their room, unaware of the night walk. And Feyre, who held Nyx tightly against her chest, felt like falling asleep on her feet.

She was considering turning around and letting Nyx lay awake staring at the ceiling when the baby stopped moving.

“Time for a diaper change?” she guessed, used to that type of silence. “I’ve never met a stricter person when it comes to schedule. Most people use the bathroom at day, you know?”

“Bah”

“Yeah, most people sleep at night, I guess” she sighed.

Still, when she felt his diaper, she found it empty, and after a quick inspection of smell, she discovered it was clean. Through her sleepy haze, she frowned and looked at Nyx. He was pointing to the open door to the kitchen, to the table next to the entrance.

As the rest of the house, the kitchen was empty. Not even Azriel’s shadows, who usually snuck around and entertained Nyx for a while, were there.

Feyre walked inside the kitchen as Nyx became more restless, until the baby was close to the object he pointed at. Then, almost dropping from her embrace, he put his chubby hands on the surface and tried to crawl to his destiny.

“Nyx, baby, it’s late. You already had dinner” she sighed, trying to pull Nyx back.

But as soon as she separated his hands from the table, Nyx let the pacifier drop and whined pitifully. He smacked one rebel hand against Feyre’s cheek, showing her his utter disapproval of the action.

All Feyre needed was another slap to the face before she gave in and let Nyx have his way. She let the baby sitting on the counter, and holding his back, she bent down for the pacifier. When she rose again, Nyx had found his prize – something that certainly didn’t belong to their kitchen, since the most complex food she could make was soup.

Large and thin like a fork, Nyx was holding a kitchen tool made of plastic. It ended in soft peaks, similar to a brush. Similar to the baby brush Feyre used with him.

“Did you winnow that here?” she asked Nyx, not expecting an answer. “Please tell you didn’t steal anything”

Lately, Nyx had picked up his father’s power and was starting to conjure things he wanted or needed. It was cute, whenever it was a toy or a plushie. Last month, it was a very distressed Cassian that fell on Feyre, and it was not cute.

But before she could think about Nyx winnowing the tool, she recognized the already familiar smell of bread and cinnamon. Feyre smiled as Nyx brushed its end against his face, and the baby giggled.

During the next ten minutes, she brushed the tool herself against her baby’s hair, tummy and neck. It might had been a little unhygienic and certainly not very mom-like, but it was getting Nyx to drop his eyes and lean against her.

She ended up carrying the baby asleep on her arms, still gripping the new acquisition tight on his fist.

As Feyre let him rest on the crib and tucked him in, Rhysand finally woke up. He apologized softly for not getting up and urged his mate to get in bed with him. Just before he could fall back into a blissful sleep with his family safe besides him, Feyre spoke.

“Remind me tomorrow to wash that thing and give it back to Azriel’s mate. She’ll be happy to know it also works as a baby wand to sleep”

Feyre drifted off with his back to Rhysand as the male got up from the bed, processing the new information.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[epigstolary]

On Your Own

The alarm buzzing on your phone announces another day of struggling to navigate your narrow, confined world. After a few minutes of burying your head under the pillow, you muster the strength to reach a heavy, puffy, flab-covered arm out to hit the snooze button. A couple of rocks back and forth with one of your shapeless legs and its bulging, wobbling sacs of fat, ready you to heave for the edge of the bed; and you feel your belly weight begin shifting and cascading over the side, helping to pull you toward an upright sitting position. You feel the now-familiar sensation of the thick layer of blubber burying every inch of your body sloshing with your movement, its weight pushing you down into a crater divoting most of this side of the bed. Your heart races and your breaths come shallow and labored as you recover from this extraordinary exertion, trying to collect yourself for the final push to stand up.

This hadn’t been the plan, not by a long shot. You were supposed to have a feeder, someone to take care of all the details like prepping your vast meals, getting the extensive grocery list needed to keep the overworked kitchen full, tidying up and performing all the personal care rituals you’d gotten too fat to do yourself without it taking a literal workout. And for a while, you’d had one. Someone who was happy, even eager, to see you gain as much as you possibly could. Someone who would have been far from disappointed to see you overwhelm your bed with your lard-packed body and keep eating. And someone who was willing to put in the work to help you make it happen.

He was there, cooking before and after work, making sure you had the piles of alternately greasy or fatty or sweet or salty food you needed to keep your waistline expanding and the rolls covering your body growing. He was there restocking your snack cabinet and your soda fridge and your containers of prepped meals so you rarely had to do more than waddle to the kitchen to find a couple thousand calories waiting for you. He was there to admire your growing bulk, watching as that heavy swollen belly swallowed up your lap, that ballooning butt anchored you more and more firmly to the couch, that double chin and those tits and that bicep flab piled up around your chest as if to bury you.

He’d eventually fed you to a point beyond what you’d have ever thought possible. He made sure you were tantalized by food 24/7, always able to have something tasty and fattening on hand at any moment of the day, never not thinking about your next snack or meal or indulgence. His encouragement left you with a permanent craving for something at all times — a craving he was always ready to satisfy. You didn’t worry about what his doting attention was doing to your body, or your stamina, or your health, because he was there. He was taking care of you. Even if you wound up in bed and too fat to ever move again, he’d be there to make sure you had everything you needed. You could get as big as you wanted, and know that he would always find a way to make it work.

And then he was gone. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on how, again, for the thousandth time. The stark fact was that now you were on your own — no job, nothing like the amount of food he’d kept stocked up, struggling even to move under the 700 lbs he’d fed into you. You managed to avoid disaster — dusting off your resume and finding remote work, setting up a service for groceries, getting a monthly pass to keep your lifeline of fast food deliveries coming. But you knew how precarious your situation was, and how little it would take for your morbidly-obese, food-addicted self to be in real trouble, if you put on just a few pounds or had to try and travel hardly any distance.

Because you definitely weren’t getting any smaller. Fear didn’t keep you from picking up the fork; if anything, it made you shovel more junk down your throat. And how else were you supposed to lose weight, join a gym and start exercising? You knew you could bounce along on a treadmill for two or three minutes at most before your pounding heart and burning lungs would force you to quit. You’d be reduced to a wheezing, overheated mound of blubber desperately trying to collect yourself in front of a gym full of fit, healthy, judgmental people. You’d have to make do at this size for as long as your luck would hold out, hoping against hope that you wouldn’t grow and lose what little mobility you still had.

And so you do your best to stumble through your morning routine — your ass and belly squeaking as they rub against the sides of the shower stall they’re too big for, your chubby arms and bingo wings quivering as you reach into the grease-soaked paper bag for another fast-food breakfast sandwich, your couch creaking ominously as you settle in for work with your laptop and your chocolate-caramel-laced excuse of a coffee. You know, somewhere deep down, that there’s a ticking clock counting down — this is not a stable situation that can last forever. You know you can’t stop gorging and gaining. Things aren’t desperate enough yet for you to want to; but even if you did, you know you couldn’t. The day is coming when you’ll be stuck here, too big to help yourself anymore, no way to save yourself from snowballing growth. You know you can’t stop it.

And you realize why, for the first time. The voice you hear in the back of your mind, telling you how hungry you are, how tasty that little snack or dessert would be, is his voice. When you run your fingers across the soft, yielding flab spreading out from your body, it’s his touch, his hands that you feel. And when that yearning, aching, burning desire to eat even more and grow even heavier overtakes you, it’s his desperate lust that you feel. “I need you so much bigger, babe… I need you fat enough to fill this bed, so the real feeding can start.”

It doesn’t matter that he isn’t around anymore. That living independently and being a half-ton are a complete contradiction. That caring for yourself and being a bedbound lardpile are irreconcilably exclusive. You might be on your own, but he insinuated himself into your psyche a long time ago. After him, there was no going back to your merely chubby former self. His encouragement was corrupting to your very soul; and you were chained to him and his wishes as surely as if the ghost of his memory were the living, breathing man, delicately forcing another fattening morsel between your lips.

You were his. You are his. And he wants you fatter.

[st4rymoon]

Can u please make a Steven smut where the reader is obsessed with pink and Marc gets her light pink lingerie but she thinks it’s from Steven and she puts on a show for him

This <3

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐞 • Fem Reader x Marc Spector (ft. Steven <3)

- 18+, reader is obsessed with pink <3, riding!, jealousy, Marc fronts half way through the deed :3, soft dom Steven, mean dom Marc, unprotected sex!, reader wears lingerie, language, pet names, fingering!, teasing

Even when Marc was angry with you, he couldn’t help but buy you a few gifts while he was away doing Khonshus dirty work.

He picked out some pretty lace sets, all different shades of pink and fully aware that you loved anything pink. Once you’d moved in, there was always a hint of pink in every direction of his flat.

Steven didn’t mind it, he loved it but Marc and Jake weren’t the biggest fans of pink blankets and pillows littering their dull apartment. Sometimes Marc would even notice the pink fluff from your plushies on his jackets and shirts.

He would never admit it but he couldn’t help but smile whenever he noticed it.

Steven had called you the night before, letting you know your boys are back from their monthly work trips.

Marc had left the bag full of lace panties and lingerie sitting on his bed with pink tissue paper fluffing up the bag. He couldn’t wait to see you light up at the kind gesture he planned.

You stepped into an empty apartment, no sight of anyone but Gus swimming around in his tank. A buzz from your phone caught your attention “sorry love Donna is making me close tonight. I’ll be out in 30”your phone read.

Disappointed at the message you sighed but sent a reassuring text telling Steven not to worry. You’d just make yourself at home.

You tried to ignore the pink bag sitting pretty on the bed the second you walked in but as always, you were curious at what it could be.

For my favorite girl was written in pink ink on a small piece of paper, a string keeping it in place as it hung around one of the bags arms.

You smiled at the small message and slowly pulled the stuffing from bag. You squealed at the sight of delicate light pink lace sets of lingerie and sets of under garments.

There was no hesitation as you kicked off your clothes and picked out your favorite piece. You went for the soft pink set that came with a bra, panties, and matching garter belt.

The panties are embroidered with a white trim, the garter belt having two pretty pink bows on both your upper thighs and the bra having identical details making it all satisfyingly match. You looked like the perfect present for your boys.

You smiled at your reflection noticing how good it all fit. Steven really did know your size you thought.

You waited for Steven as you set the mood. Lighting a few candles and playing one of Jake’s more sensual records did a lot for the little flat.

Hearing the doorknob turn made you perk up, your body now facing the door as you posed yourself in the sexist position possible.

“I’m sorry love I really am, Donna and her bloody rules” Steven hissed as he burst inside. “It’s ok, you’ll make it up” you cooed.

Steven gasped, his shoulder bag slipping off onto the ground as he stood with his mouth wide open “bloody hell love” he huffed as he stumbled across the living room and made his way to you.

You giggled as you jumped onto the bed, playfully running from Steven as he pulled at your legs. He ignored Marc’s curses and insults as Steven savored the sight of your thick thighs being hugged by the thin elastic strand of cloth.

Steven I bought it ALL for her you little shit. Don’t you dare take the fucking credit!

The words flew through Steven’s ears “missed you so much darling” he whined as you pulled him in for a kiss, the words swallowed down by your lips as you kissed him hungrily.

Both of you moaned into each other as Steven’s arms laid beside your head, holding himself up steady as you wrapped your legs around him. “Show me how much you missed me then” you cooed.

Steven you asshole!

Marc’s voice echoed in Steven’s head as Marc tried his best to ask nicely. He didn’t want to take over the body but he didn’t appreciate Steven getting all the credit. The gifts were just one of the many apologies Marc had planned out but here Steven was indulging himself.

Steven this is the last time I ask nicely.

You squirmed as Steven’s hands ran up your thighs, his soft touch making you moan as he buried himself in your neck. His tongue lapped and sucked at your skin all the while his hips rocked onto your clothed body.

“N- No!”

You noticed as Marc took over, the once soft grip now rough as his hands held your thighs like letting go was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I bought you these, I wanna see ‘em” he hissed as he pushed out Steven’s pleads and curses. “Do you really think Steven’s the only one who can do something nice for you?”

You moaned as Marc’s hand snaked from under your spine and up to your hair. “Answer me” he hissed as he tugged a fist full of your hair back “No” you gasped “I- I just thought you hated pink. I’d think you’d buy me something red” you now confidently spoke.

“Wrong” he hummed “well I’m sorry, I just thought stev-“ you were cut short as Marc tugged your panties to the side and without a word he pushed two thick fingers into your tight cunt.

You mewled as he hummed with a cocky smile on his face. Marc payed attention to the sound of your needy whines growing louder with each of his thrusts.

Without a second thought he pulled out his fingers. You cried in agony as he ignored you “please Marc I’m sorry” you whined in hopes of getting him back between your legs.

“I know, I know you are bunny” he hummed “jus’ be patient. Just be patient.”

You spread your legs wide as you watched him begin to unbuckle his belt, his hand expertly moving his buckle to the side and in one quick tug he yanked the thick leather from around his waist.

Seeing Marc so impatient and irritated at the fact that someone else was taking credit for his actions was something you never knew you needed.

The way his ruffled hair bounced with his rushed movements as he kicked his jeans off was mesmerizing. Your eyes dumbly stared at his v-line as he tossed another layer of clothing.

“You want somethin’ honey?” He chuckled, his hand nudging your thighs apart as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against your plump lips. The sloppy kiss makes the both of you moan as your tongues intertwine and lap at each other.

Marc’s calloused hand plants itself softly around your neck as his hips grind into your sticky cunt. You could feel your slick begin to pool in the thin lace as he spread your legs wider.

“Marc” you moaned, your breath unsteady as his hands ran up your thighs and played with the thin straps of your garter belt. All he let out was a hum as his eyes dragged down your body and locked between your thighs.

A loud gasp slipped from your lips as two of his calloused fingers pulled the soft fabric of your panties to the side, two fingers instantly pushing into your tight cunt. “Marccc” his name rolled off your tongue in a purr, your hand wrapping onto his wrist as he watched you go dumb.

“This all it takes? Tsk”

Marc pulled away without a warning “Look at all this mess” he sighed as he held his fingers up to his face, his thick digits now covered in your sticky slick “open” he mouthed.

Without hesitation you did as told and tasted yourself “don’t swallow” he smiled. You nodded with his fingers still in your mouth as your tongue swirling around his digits.

Marc groaned as he yanked his fingers out and held you by the sides of your jaw to keep your mouth open so he could get a taste for himself.

“I think I want you above me sweetheart, that pathetic little look on your face will look even better from above” Marc hummed.

He loved how obedient you always are with him because in no time you were pushing him onto the pillows and straddling his thighs.

You managed to tug his boxers down to his knees by the time he got comfortable “I bet you were all worked up when Steve-“ Marc cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“Of course I’d be upset, I wanted to be the one greeted in this pretty outfit. I bought it for you and me for a reason so I won’t let Steven or Jake get a chance” he cockily smiled.

You nodded with an amused expression “oh yeah?”

“Yeah” Marc hissed.

“Torturing the both of them just to see me in this?” You pout “it’s so unfair” you cooed as you settled above his tip “I know it is, I’m selfish” he groaned with his eyes trained on your cunt.

“Very selfish” you cooed as you sunk down his length. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he settled deep inside you, his fat tip nudging deep as you sat onto his thighs.

Marc’s eyes rolled back into his skull as he felt your tight walls squeeze him with a vice grip “f- oh-“ he gasped as your hips began to move.

You watched as his jaw tightened with every heavy thrust of his hips.

You bloody asshole! I was the first here

She wanted me first

Marc blocked out Steven’s curses and pleads as he watched your tight cunt stretch around his fat length. You were already gushing slick as Marc buried his face into the crook of your neck.

He chuckled at the lewd sounds your pussy with his hands planted on your waist. He pressed a messy kiss onto your neck before taking a better look of the mess you were making.

“Shit” Marc cursed as he took in how soaked you were “miss me this much bunny? Look at how fucking easy it is to make you all wet and sticky” he chuckled.

He smiled at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your tight cunt “using your cum as a lube huh? What’s got you so sensitive” he teased. You ignored his words as you expertly swayed your hips and rode him for all he’s got.

You mewled as each word coming out of Marc’s mouth was followed by a heavy thrust. You clawed and scratched at his shoulders as he spread your legs wide, pinning them open to each side with his thighs for better leeway.

You couldn’t resist the high pitched moan that spilled from your lips as Marc mumbling to himself. Heavy-eyed and a passionate look in his eyes as he went on and on about how good your pussy is, how much he missed being in you, and how smart it was of him to buy you these pretty little outfits.

Look so fuckin’ pretty sweetheart. Taking it like a champ huh? My sweet little plaything takin’ me so well.

You couldn’t get a word out as Marc fucked you dumb with a heavy hand on your throat “Mmm- Ma- Marccc” you mewled, nails dragging down his arms as you try and get a hold of him.

Marc hummed and gave you his hand to squeeze knowing you always craved some extra comfort. Steven watched through the mirror with a large frown on his face as he watched you cum around Marc’s cock, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as Marc glared at Steven with cocky smile.

“Who’s making you feel this good honey? Say it” Marc taunted “Marc Ma- ohh fuckk” you hiccuped “say it louder” he cooed.

Steven’s couldn’t watch. He was beyond furious as the pretty cries of Marc’s name you let out echoed through the room.

“Could Steven fuck you this good?”

Marc was cruel knowing you had no damn clue what you were saying, so cock drunk you didn’t even realize what you were getting yourself into.

“No no only you Marc fu-“

Steven scoffed. He’d just have to remind you how much better he is at fucking you.

[hyypnotix-writes]

Straight. Straight straight straight.

~ I really don’t know what this is. I couldn’t sleep and so, here we are. I’ve never written anything other than essays for uni before so ..this could go down like a lead balloon! we’ll see, lemme know! :) ~

~ it’s like ..10k words? because I really couldn’t sleep. so, it’s a long one ..if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ I don’t think it needs any content warnings, but please tell me if there should be! there’s some swearing, if that’s off putting to you.. ~

~ it takes a tiny while for A to show up, and she’s never explicitly named..but she is there, it is her ~

~ I’m talking myself out of posting, but this is too long to scrap now, sorry ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

________________

The club is a disgusting little place to be. Buried right in the centre of town, with drinks so extortionately expensive, they make even the cost of your London’s monthly rent, look a little reasonable. The music blares inside your head, the strobe lighting messes with your vision, and the smell of horny sweaty bodies is an assault on the nostrils. It’s your least favourite place on earth to be.

It’s somewhere you’d managed to avoid being, for all of your early twenties. You’ve had no reason to go to a club late at night. Not when you’ve had a boyfriend for the past 5 years to go home to. That dirty little desire to get drunk, and hookup with an attractive stranger, took a nice long hibernation.

For you.

Turns out, your ever-loving, ever-caring, fuckwit of an ex-boyfriend, still managed to find the time to go to clubs, and hookup with strangers in between spending nights with you. You really thought he was out working till the early hours of the morning, busy making a living for your future together? What an idiot you were.

So, you’re back in a nightclub, at the behest of some of your single friends, for the first time in over half a decade, borderline drunk out of your mind.

It’s still a comfortable level of tipsiness at the moment, you’d argue, despite stumbling a little on your way back towards the bar. You can easily identify the song that’s being blasted, you’ve been able to order more drinks independently without being refused service. Your inhibitions are long gone, but you’re still able to think clearly, and you’re ready to find someone to go home with.

Your friends are all dotted around the room getting off with men of varying levels of attractiveness. None of them have impressed you so far, you’re not so desperate for company that you’re willing to let your own standards drop tonight. You’re happy to wait for the best-looking man in the room. Looking around the room to scope the talent on offer, however, maybe you do need to lower your standards a little bit.

You approach the bar again, and order a shot of tequila for yourself. A friendly little liquid that’s had previous success with you, for getting you to sleep with just about anything.

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you do not know. It’s rather ballsy of her, almost rude, but she holds out her card to pay, before you can get too irritated with her request.

“Gracias.” You offer, using your exceptional detective skills to work out the woman’s nationality.

“¿Hablas español?” She checks, as she leans next to you, and you wag a dismissive, drunken finger in front of her face as you shake your head.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you tell her, “only English. GCSE level German.”

She smirks, watching you, and you narrow your eyes at her, tapping the bar as you await your drink.

You’re handed your shot, with a lime wedge and some salt, and you nod in thanks, to the woman who bought it for you. You don’t wait for her to go first, you’re in a bit of a rush here. All the men in the room are getting uglier by the second, you need to act fast, before you see the light too clearly.

You lick your hand and pour on the salt, the woman watching you closely as you do. She doesn’t go through the motions at all for her own drink, she focuses solely on you, gently biting at her bottom lip.

You lick the salt, down the shot, and she holds the lime wedge in between her fingers for you to bite. You don’t question it. Not until you sink your teeth into the lime, your eyes meet over it, and time stand still.

She has very beautiful eyes. A mysterious looking hazel. They flicker over you as you suck the citrus juice, and you can see the crinkles in the corners of them as she smiles at you. It’s weirdly intimate, unnervingly so.

You pull away, wiping the juice from your chin as you point to her own glass for her to follow suit. You find yourself watching her as she does the same routine, but you don’t hold out the fruit for her, the way she did for you. It was a strange custom, one that’s already playing on a loop in your head.

“Can I get you another?” She offers, and you find yourself torn.

You’re not here for a woman, you’ve never been with one. You’ve kissed your girlfriends once or twice when you were younger, mainly as a gross way of attracting boys. It’s not something you thought too deeply about, it wasn’t exactly a lightbulb moment for you. There was never any secret yearning for any of your friends afterwards. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

The woman’s eyes seem to pierce through your soul, as she waits for your answer, like she can see something in you that you can’t. It draws you in, but you hold yourself back.

“I’m straight.” You tell her, and she smirks at you again.

“Congratulations! I didn’t ask,” she points out, “but thanks for letting me know.”

You frown a little as she turns her attention back to the bartender and orders two more shots for the pair of you. She doesn’t seem put off by your sexuality claim at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t believe you, and you’re not too sure you appreciate her cockiness about it.

In fairness, maybe you’re the one being cocky. She doesn’t have a badge on her saying she’s a lesbian, there’s no rainbow floating above her head. She’s not a stereotypical lesbian, not in the way that your little sister is. Maybe she’s just being friendly, and you’re projecting, because you’re drunk and full of yourself.

“Sorry,” you start, leaning into her so she can hear you above the music, and she pushes the shot towards you, “I just thought ..maybe you were coming on to me.”

“That’s very wishful thinking from you.” She says simply, turning her head slightly to face you. She’s exceptionally close, and your eyes instantly trail to her lips. Time’s stood still again.

She has nice lips, very nice lips. They’d probably taste very nice..

You have to pull yourself away.

“Gracias.” You say again, gesturing to the glass in front of you with a frown. You reach for the salt, but before you can lick your hand, she raises it to her own mouth to wet it for you. You really don’t know what to make of her. It’s very gross, it’s very rude ..it’s very sexy.

There’s a confidence in her, that has you questioning things. The warmth of her tongue sends goosebumps right up your arm. Which, she can undoubtedly see, as you don’t have long sleeves and she’s smirking at you again. You don’t appreciate her smug little attitude. Anyone would have a physical reaction to being licked by a stranger, she has no business being arrogant about it.

You must have been stuck in place for too long, as she pours the salt onto your hand on your behalf too.

You don’t like being outdone. If she wants to play it cocky, you can match her for it. You grab the lime wedge and indicate for her to open her mouth. It catches her a little off guard, which you feel a sense of pride in, but she doesn’t back down from your challenge. She welcomes your newfound confidence, with that same little smirk from before.

You place the lime, skin-side back, in between her teeth and you lick the salt from your hand with unwavering eye contact. You down the shot, and you pull her in carefully by her neck.

Your lips brush against hers, ever so slightly, as you bite the lime between her teeth and remove it in your own. It’s a deliberate move from you, maybe you’re feeling messy tonight. You watch as she raises her fingers to her lips, and you wipe the juice again with the back of your hand. You give her a nod with another little ‘gracias’, before heading away from the bar without looking back at her.

You’re stuck on a carousel of men once you return to the centre of the club. They are all admittedly, far better looking than they were before your little trip to get drinks, but there’s still no one drawing your eye. None of them like that cocky little woman at the bar.

She wasn’t really little, she’s quite tall, actually. Had a couple inches on you, that’s for sure, and you’re not short. She was impressively tall, she had nice posture. She didn’t slouch or look uncomfortable. She was just tall, and beautiful, with that endearing little smirk on her pretty little fa— what are you doing?

You need to find yourself a man, and quick.

You’ve trapped yourself between another one and a wall, only a few minutes later, and it feels like a mistake. His hands are on your hips, his mouth is dangerously close to yours, and frankly, no amount of alcohol could make you genuinely attracted to him.

“You’re really sexy.” He slurs, his hand grazing up your body.

No, next.

It doesn’t take long to find another, his arm wrapped round your waist as he shares his drink with you. He’s cute, you’re fairly certain. He does have a moustache, which isn’t your usual cup of tea. It’s like a little caterpillar resting above his top lip, twitching as he talks to you. He drowns it slightly as he has more of his drink, and it makes you cringe as he licks at it.

It’d probably tickle if he kissed you, or leave you with a rash, the hairy little ferret on his lip.

Do you know who didn’t have a moustache? Who you wouldn’t have to work out, how not to throw up in their face, as there’s no risk of their facial hair ever getting stuck in your mouth as you kiss?

Mhmm.

Straight straight straight.

You slide out from his embrace, twirling him around to go after some other poor soul and you return to the bar.

It’s disappointing to realise she’s no longer there, not that she should be waiting around for you. She’s probably found someone less rude to spend her time with, someone more gay.

Look at the state of you, traipsing back to a bar in search of woman you don’t know because she looked at you for a second too long and now you can’t shake her from your head. How embarrassing. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You make your way through to the ladies’ room to splash some water on your face, and come to your senses. Of course, that’s where she’s hiding. With some new company of her own.

That shouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even know this woman’s name. You know nothing about her at all except that she’s tall, beautiful and has soft lips. Lips that are now on another woman and you’re incensed. You have no right to be angry about it, and yet, here you are.

You bash at the head of the tap, rather aggressively. Sometimes taps in nightclub restrooms don’t work, it probably needed a firm touch. It has nothing to do with you wanting to distract the woman, no no no. Because you’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You don’t need the attention of another woman, that would be ridiculous. That wouldn’t be very straight of you at all.

It doesn’t seem like your loud and theatrical washing of your hands has done anything to disturb the kiss to the side of you.

And good! You wouldn’t want to do that.

So, when you bump into them to reach for some hand towels, that’s just an accident. The fact that the tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish woman’s eyes flick to you as you dry your hands, is just an unfortunate side effect of your clumsiness.

The fact that it doesn’t stop her from kissing the other woman, however, is outrageous. Her watching you, as she’s busy with someone else? How disgusting.

Your heart shouldn’t be racing at the sight of her, your breath shouldn’t be as shallow at is, and it definitely shouldn’t be catching in your throat as the other woman kisses down her neck, and she’s still only looking at you. This isn’t attractive. This isn’t turning you on. You don’t wish it was you on her neck. There’s that infamous smirk on her face again as she stares at you. She’s unbelievable.

You throw your towels in the bin with an almighty clang as you let the lid drop back down, finally putting the other woman off her stride, and you make a swift exit back into the club.

The music’s too loud again, the smell is suffocating, all of the men are gross by comparison to the woman stuck in your head. It’s been an unsuccessful night and you’re ready to go home alone.

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You said you were straight!” She reminds you, as she pulls you outside with her.

“I am!” You tell her, still annoyed with her little antics.

“You followed me to the toilet?”

“I didn’t know you were in there!” You point out, even more annoyed with her cocky little attitude.

“You’re angry.” She tells you, smirking. “Didn’t like me kissing someone else?”

“I don’t care who you kiss!”

“No?”

“No!”

There’s a palpable tension between you both. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t know this woman. She doesn’t know you. It doesn’t matter that she kissed someone else. You were trying to kiss someone else only a minute before.

Why you’re so enraged by a woman who’s bought you two shots, getting with another woman after you walked away from her, is a question for future you. You’re not about to have an existential crisis in front of her. Questioning your identity in your mid-twenties, is absurd. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

There’s a curiousness, to her decisions, actually. To follow you, when she already had company. To drag you outside, to where no one else is. She’s very confident about you being interested, but she’s not exactly being apathetic herself.

“Why did you leave her?” You ask.

“What?”

“You followed me,” you point out, furrowing your brow, “had a pretty girl draping herself all over you, and you left her to follow me. Why?”

You’ve clearly touched a nerve; her smirk has vanished. You can see her tongue pushing against the inside of her mouth. She’s annoyed with you.

She slowly runs her tongue under her teeth, before wetting her bottom lip with it while rolling her eyes. She doesn’t miss how your breath hitches watching her. Her smirk is back, and she moves closer to you.

“Maybe I’ll go back to her.” She threatens, and your jaw clenches slightly.

“Maybe you should!” You tell her, taking steps backwards as she approaches.

“Do you want me to?”

You collide into the wall behind you, and she places her hands on it by your head.

“No.” You confess, breathlessly.

“You said you were straight.” She repeats, her face mere inches from yours as she leans into you.

You swallow down, your pulse picking up speed.

“I am.” You insist, your eyes locking onto her mouth. “I..”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do?” She questions knowingly, that all too familiar smirk, taking over her face. She tilts her head, impossibly close to yours. You can smell the lime that lingers on her lips, feel her breath that softly blows against you, but she still doesn’t let you have what you want.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You groan, leaning backwards into the wall as far as you can.

“Maybe.” She tells you.

You hate her holding all the cards like this. She has you like putty in her hands. She’s all cocky and in control. Who does she think she is?

You’re better than this. You’re not shy around people you fancy. You may have been caught in a pointless relationship for far too long, but you’re a catch, people are into you. This woman right here, is into you. You don’t need to be nervous with her, it doesn’t mean anything. You’re straight. Straight straight straight. It could be the worst kiss of your life, and why should you care?

You slink your arm up behind her neck, closing the distance between you even further, and her eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m not going to.” You inform her, emboldened by her reaction to you. You duck out from under her arms, blowing her a kiss as you walk back inside. To find a man to take you home. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

It doesn’t take you long at all to find another man to wear around you. One with glasses on. No, he’s not attractive. No, you don’t want to go home with him. But he’s here, he’s a man, and he isn’t driving you quite as crazy as the woman you keep running into. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s hassle free. It’s exactly what you came for, you’re ready to go.

________________

Waking up in unfamiliar sheets, is something you haven’t done in a while. You’re quietly proud of yourself. The sheets smell nice, your hangover headache isn’t half as bad as you thought it would be, and there’s a pleasurable little ache between your legs that tells you that, whatever happened last night, you more than enjoyed yourself.

You wriggle a little under the covers and take a peek to confirm that you are indeed, completely naked. Your eyes are allowed to trail the body next to you. You’ve had sex with it, you’re more than entitled.

You really don’t remember which man it was you left with. There was the one with the glasses, the tall one with the mullet, the man with the moustache, the unfortunate gentleman with the incorrectly placed toupee.

He’s probably the one you’d most be upset about seeing next to you. Not that he didn’t seem friendly enough, but he really wasn’t the attractive stranger you were hunting for.

You risk another quick peek under the covers and your eyes all but bug out of your head. No no nonononono. You pull the covers back down and shut your eyes, trying to remember what the hell went wrong. You had countless semi-attractive men all over you. How the hell?

You peek again. Maybe you’re seeing things. Your hungover little brain playing tricks on you.

No.

That’s definitely not a man’s body. It’s far too beautiful. It’s toned, smooth, sculpted by the gods themselves. You want to put your tongue on it. You probably already have had your tongue on it. Who knows what you’ve done to it, what it’s done to you. How the hell did you go home with a woman?

“Are you enjoying the view?” The voice outside of the covers asks, and you roll yourself over under the sheets away from her.

You’d recognise that accent anywhere. That cocky little tone to her voice. That insufferable Spanish woman from the bar. That tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish walking-headache, took you home, and had her way with you? You? When you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

The ache in between your legs, the dull satisfaction running through your body, and you have her to thank for it?

It’s a dream. It’s a nightmare. It’s a horrible, twisted little trick, that, if you keep your eyes closed to, maybe it will all disappear around you and you’ll wake up again next to a man. A gross, sweaty little man, with too much hair on his face and not enough on the top of his head.

There’s a snicker from outside of the covers and you let out a huff, as she taps at your body.

“What?” You grumble, making no effort to free yourself from the sheets you’ve cocooned yourself in.

You can feel her shimmy herself closer to you and you hold your hand behind you to stop her.

“No!” You tell her, quite firmly, as her torso connects with your fingertips. Her toned torso. Her taut, muscly torso that your fingers have somehow now spread out over. You can feel her breathing against your palm. She hasn’t edged any closer to you after your outburst, and you regret telling her off so soon.

You’d quite like her pressed up against you, if that’s what she wants to do. Maybe you were too hasty, too rude. You can still feel the shortness of her breath against your hand. You’re being inappropriate, touching her like this. You slowly remove your hand from her, still hovering it pretty close.

You reach back for her arm, trailing your fingers down it until you meet with her hand, and you pull it around you. You’re not entirely sure what’s possessing you, you just want to feel her on your skin. She doesn’t need much encouragement to nestle into you, and it’s definitely not a man’s body.

You tangle your fingers with hers over your stomach, leaning into her. She has nice hands. Hands that are quite a bit bigger than yours, it’s no wonder you have an ache.

She removes the covers from over your head, instantly placing her lips to your neck. It’s very easy to forget yourself with her mouth on you, it’s no real surprise she managed to trick you into coming back to hers at all. She frees her fingers from yours, moving her hand down your body, and you put up no resistance to her. You encourage it, if anything, moving yourself to make it easier.

It’s nothing like having a man between your legs. There’s no needless grunting above you, no mindless grabbing, or endless showboating. You don’t need to make excessive noises to boost her ego. She just really knows what she’s doing with her fingers. She has every right to be cocky with herself.

Maybe this is just what it is to be with a woman. Maybe they just know, it’s the same parts, after all. Maybe it’s an inherent knowledge that all women possess, but only a select few ever get to experience. Lucky them.

Lucky you.

You are still being quite loud with her inside of you. It’s not for her benefit, it just really feels very good. You grip at her head behind you, running your fingers down the back of her neck, and you bite at your other hand to mute your sound effects, to stop giving her quite so much satisfaction with herself. You can see that smug little smirk on her face, it’s impossible to know if it’s still annoying or just incredibly sexy. It’s a very thin line with this woman.

It’s hard to keep still with her going to work on you the way she is. You find yourself rolling back over into her and she welcomes you, easily capturing your lips with hers. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They are very nice lips, they do taste nice, and it’s not the first time you’ve kissed them.

Memories of the night come flooding back in.

________________

“I can take you back to mine?” The man wearing glasses offers.

“Perfect!” You reply, all too eager to get out of this frustrating little situation you’ve found yourself in. He places his cup on the nearest table, and winks at you, before leading you to the door.

Again, the hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You’re not leaving with him!” She tells you in no uncertain terms, as she holds you firmly in place.

“You can’t tell me what to do! Who the hell do you think you are?” She doesn’t give in, and as you turn to find the man, he’s already wandered off without you. “Are you joking? What’s your problem?”

You’re absolutely furious with the woman, she has no right to ruin your plans like this. You shake her off of you and head back to the bar, but she shadows you closely.

“You can fuck right off, following me about!”

“You’re really very angry.” She tells you, rather amused at your attitude. “Why, because I didn’t let you leave with some gross man?”

“He was cute!”

“He was about 50!”

That can’t be right.

He had glasses on, sure, but so do lots of people in their twenties. He had ..greying hair. Slightly less common, perhaps, but he had been cute.

Hadn’t he?

“Fuck!”

You rub your fingers over your forehead, trying to erase him from your mind, as the woman continues smirking at you.

“You can wipe that smug look off your face, right now!” You warn her and she chuckles to herself.

“Do you want another drink?”

“..Please.”

You down another round of shots together, being inappropriate with the salt and limes again. There’s an incredible amount of confidence in you. Whether it’s your new disdain for this woman, the fact that you’re unlikely to be going home with someone you’ll be happy waking up next to, or just the alcohol flooding your system, who can tell, but it’s a confidence that you’re more than willing to embrace.

You order another round of drinks and lick her collarbone ready to pour the salt on to. Her eyebrow quirks at you, but she doesn’t stop you doing it. She readies the lime in her mouth, as you down the tequila, and she pierces it with her teeth for you, dripping the juice into your mouth from hers up above.

It’s a very weird mating call from her, and it’s 100% effective. You grab her hand and lead her back to the hallway between the toilets. You bury your head in her neck as the moustache walks past you both, and you open the door to the smoking area to see if anyone’s about. No one is, so you pull her outside with you.

“Why are we back here?” She asks, that smug smile still tattooed on her lips.

“I feel more sober in fresh air.”

“Mm? You’re very drunk.”

“You’re very drunk!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not on a ridiculous hunt for a man!”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s meticulous!” You tell her, giggling slightly at your accidental rhyme. “I’m looking for a very specific man, preferably a good looking one, in his twenties.”

“Really? You didn’t seem too worried, that a man in his twenties was actually a man in his fifties!” She points out.

“Mm. I don’t know that I’m particularly worried about a man in his twenties ..being a woman in her twenties either.” You tell her with a rather casual shrug as you head to one of the tables. You sit yourself up on it, looking back at the woman who gives you a knowing little smile.

“You’re not very straight, are you?” She asks sarcastically.

“I really am.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I’ve never been with a woman, never wanted to be. I’ve only just got out of a long-term relationship with a man. I’ve only ever wanted to be with men.”

“Mm?” She mumbles, moving over to you slowly. She carefully pushes your knees apart and stands in between them, looking down at you. “I’m not a man.” She reminds you, and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Maybe I don’t want you.”

“Mm?” She places a curved finger under your chin, tilting your head and bringing your mouths very close together. “Tell me you don’t.”

There’s a feeling in your stomach at her challenge, a feeling lower than your stomach at her challenge. You do want her, and you’re not a good enough liar to pretend that you don’t.

“I can’t..” You admit, and she smiles again, before removing herself from you. You let out a frustrated little sigh as she moves backwards, and you swing your legs back together. “You want me too!” You tell her and she tilts her head to the side.

“Who told you that?”

“Tell me you don’t.”

“..I can’t.” She admits, and maybe her cocky little smirk has found its way onto your face.

You jump down from the tabletop and lean back against it, nibbling at the inside of your mouth. She casually walks back over to you, resting her hand on your hip.

It’s far less offensive than gentleman number 6’s grazing of your body. You don’t feel the need to push her away at all. She leans back into you, tucking your hair behind your ear. It sends a little tingle right down the side of your neck, and she smirks again at your reaction. You can’t not roll your eyes at her incessant need to be arrogant. She rubs her thumb across your cheek and over your mouth, pulling down on your lower lip gently.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ..what?” She asks, and she’s ruined the moment. You shake your head at her chuckling lightly.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, it’s fine, we don’t have to. I’m not going to beg you for it.” You tilt your head, brushing her nose with yours. “Do you want to kiss me?” She nods silently, and you wink at her. “Looks like we’re both missing out then!”

You slip out from between her and the table and make your way over to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find a man to take me home! I’m straight!”

You can hear her cocky little laugh as you head back into the club, and it sends a little thrill right through your body.

This bizarre game of cat and mouse continues between you both for a little while longer. You keep buying each other shots, drinking them in more obscene ways every time. You back each other into walls, threatening to kiss each other, before one of you walks away, and the whole process repeats itself.

It’s getting harder to compose yourself after each round of shots. You really do just want her to kiss you, you’ve had enough of fighting it, but you also don’t want her to have the satisfaction of you caving in. It’s a ruthless little battle that you’ve found yourself in. She’s incredibly competitive.

You have to commit. Genuinely find yourself a man. It shouldn’t be hard. There’s lots of them about, and you’re more drunk now than you’ve been all night. You’re embarrassingly easy prey.

You survey your surroundings, hoping for one decent looking man to catch your eye. It’s a truly talentless night. You find yourself grimacing slightly realising that all of your friends have already left the place. Some of them will definitely regret their choices in the morning.

As will you, if you don’t manage to get at least one kiss from this godforsaken woman.

“Looking for me?” She asks as she sidles on next to you, leaning against the wall.

“I’m looking for a man! I’ve already told you this.”

“Well ..there’s one there.” She tells you, gesturing to a random fellow in the corner. “There’s another there.” She points out. “There. There. The—”

“I get it, thanks. You have terrible taste in men.”

“I don’t have any taste in men.” She reminds you. “I have pretty impeccable taste in women.”

“Mm? Well, which one takes your fancy?” You ask. “There’s one over there. There ..there. Th—”

She grabs your pointed finger and turns it back towards you. It’s not a new answer, so god knows why you’re blushing at it.

“Then kiss me.” You tell her, little louder than a whisper. “Just kiss me, for fuc—”

She’s clearly had enough too. Maybe it was the tiredness in your voice, the obvious look of defeat in your eyes. Maybe she just doesn’t like you swearing. You’re not going to question it. Her lips are finally on yours, and she was definitely worth the wait. It ignites a spark in you, it sends your tipsy little mind fully into orbit, and she’s the only other person in the room with you.

There’s no sense of desperation in the kiss. It’s not messy, or chaotic. It’s deliberate from her, considered. There’s an air of caution perhaps, a worry that you’ll pull away from her. You’re straight, after all. Maybe she’s nervous that your certainty in wanting a kiss will waver now that she’s finally given you what you want. Maybe you’ve realised that you don’t actually want it.

It’s a new experience for you, surprisingly different from kissing a man, but it’s not one you want to pull away from. It’s not one you want to rush. It’s not one you really want to end at all. You can sense her apprehension, and it’s the first time that she’s had no snark. It’s not a cocky little kiss. She’s not doing it to get it over and done with. It’s not going to end with her smirking at you, like she’s done you a favour. It isn’t meaningless.

It’s tentative, and frankly, you’ve had enough of her carefulness. If she needs a sign that you’re not going anywhere, that you want her to keep kissing you, you’ll find a way to do that. Your tongue parts her lips, and the gasp you elicit is all the confirmation you need of her nerves. It’s endearing to have her be quite so vulnerable with you.

You deepening the kiss is clearly all the confirmation she needs that everything’s fair game, because she wastes no time in escalating the intensity. She clings to you, wrapping her arm around your waist, her hand gripping at your hip, the other cradling your jaw. She backs you up against the wall and muffles the moan that escapes you with your joined lips.

Her tongue dances with yours, and you let her take over all your senses. It’s just a kiss, and yet it’s like a journey to a whole new world. It’s entirely all-consuming, the rest of existence has melted to nothingness around you. You don’t care where you are, you don’t care who’s watching. Or do you?

Maybe there is a mild sense of urgency to it, because kissing is simply not enough. You need to have her closer, impossibly close. You need her, entirely, and regardless of how much you’re craving the feeling of her, you do still care about where that happens.

“Are you local?” You ask, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. She only gives a silent nod in reply. “I’m like ..20 minutes by taxi?”

“My hotel’s closer than that.”

“So ..back to yours?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, searching your eyes for any sense of reluctance. She’s unlikely to find any, but you nod, assertively, just to reaffirm. “I’m not taking you back to mine to ..play cards?” She double-checks with you and you chuckle, resting your forehead to hers.

“No, I’m sort of counting on that.” You tell her. “Unless you don’t wa—”

She cuts you off with a kiss again. There was no swearing this time, no tiredness or look of defeat. Maybe she just likes kissing you.

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asks again, because she’s polite, and underneath all her cocky annoyingness, she really is very sweet.

“Oh my god.” You sigh. You do still find yourself rolling your eyes, you don’t know how much more obvious you need to be with her. “..please.”

The rush back to her hotel room is fun, you feel like a teenager all over again. Waltzing through the streets of London, your hand interlaced with an attractive stranger’s, the promise of sex hanging in the air.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a woman you’re linked up with. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s a one-time little indulgence. An experiment, for research purposes. To find out what it is your sister’s been going so crazy over, ever since she was a teenager.

It doesn’t mean anything when she keeps kissing you against the walls of closed buildings. It doesn’t mean anything when you pull her back into you at the entrance of her hotel. Yes, it’s nice. It’s enjoyable. It steals the air right from your lungs every single time, but that doesn’t mean anything. How could it, when you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

You do keep your hands off each other when you get to the lift of the hotel, there’s an older woman in there with you, and you’re not about to put on a show for her. Not for free.

Maybe your eyes keep meeting too much, or the smirking is too obvious. Maybe you do keep touching once or twice, because something’s definitely giving you both away.

“Lesbians?” The older woman asks, with a very clear disdain.

“Hm? For tonight.” You reply with a nod, unperturbed by her demeanour. Your Spanish host shakes her head at you, smiling as she looks up at the ceiling.

You’ve dealt with a few homophobes in your time. Your sister isn’t exactly subtle with her identity. It welcomes dirty looks, offensive words, and you’ve never been one to shy away from protecting her. You’ve never had to defend yourself against prejudice, but she’s not exactly an intimidating woman. You could easily take her if she tries to raise her hand.

“It’s disgusting.” She mutters under her breath, and her unsupportive attitude is sort of spurring you on.

“Do you think?” You ask. “What’s so disgusting about it?”

“Two women. It’s a waste.”

“Oof. I am not about to let her go to waste, don’t you worry about that at all, madam.” You reassure her, offering a friendly smile that earns you a very angry look in reply.

You don’t miss the smirk that graces the taller woman’s face next to you in the mirror, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“It’s not natural!” The older woman tells you, and you nod your head slowly back at her. “It’s disgusting!”

“You’re very annoyed about it.” You point out. “It’s a bit unnecessary, no?”

“I think you’re both disgusting!” She hisses at you again.

“Oh dear.” You lean back against the bar of the elevator, as the older woman stares you down. “That’s an incredible argument you’ve put forward. I think I’ve seen the light!”

She not at all impressed by your relaxed sarcasm, you’re clearly getting on her nerves. Your lack of remorse, the fact you’re not begging for her forgiveness.

“I think it—”

“You think it’s disgusting, madam. We get it.” You interrupt, a little bit tired of her insistence. “Don’t spend your evening with another woman, then. We’re not inviting you to join us, so you can calm down.” You tell her, moving back towards the Spanish woman behind you.

She wraps her arm around your waist instantly and you lean into her touch. It’s comforting, subtle. It’s a very casual display of support without silencing you, without fighting over you.

She’s not dramatically shouting at the other woman; she’s not emasculated by you doing all the talking. She’s not making empty threats or getting up in the other woman’s face.

She’s not reacting at all in the way you’ve come to expect. The way that he probably would, to someone questioning him. Not that your ex ever defended your sister’s honour with you, but he certainly enjoyed getting into a scrap when he felt threatened.

It’s very attractive from her, actually, to just silently remind you that she’s there if you need her. That she’s with you, she does have your back, and you’d kiss her right there on the mouth if the woman opposite wasn’t glaring at you quite so intently.

Maybe you should kiss her regardless. There’s only a few more floors left till the old bat gets off. What’s she going to do, slap you both for some pda? There’s a security camera in here, she wouldn’t be so stupid.

Perhaps you can control yourself for a couple more floors, you don’t need to provoke the bastard woman. So what if she’s an unfavourable little witch, she’s not ruining your evening, you’re not going to let her.

Well, if that’s your logic, why should you let her stop you from kissing the woman when you want to? What courtesy do you owe to her? If she’s that upset about it, she’ll have to either avert her eyes like a petulant little child, or stop off at the floor below and hope she doesn’t choke on her bigotry when walking the rest of the way up. You don’t care.

Thankfully, neither does the Spanish beauty who matches your energy and kisses you back with the same fervour you’re showing her.

You’re instantly entirely unbothered by the third wheel once there’s an extra tongue back in your mouth, her Spanish hands on your face. You don’t care at all how uncomfortable you’re making the old bint. Frankly, you hope her eyes are burning at the sight of you both.

She doesn’t let you enjoy your moment for too long. Of course she doesn’t, the dark-sided little mare. She barges past you both as the doors open and she spits at the floor in front of you. The absolute nerve. She expectorates in the lift inside of a nice hotel, and you’re the disgusting ones? Absolutely not. You’re seeing red. You really could take her, you’ve been to a gym more than once or twice in your life, you’re not weak.

“You revolting little bi—”

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“Let her go!” She tells you, laughing as she spins you back round to face her. “Por favor, she’s not worth it!”

“She spat at us! That dirty little cu—”

She kisses you again. Maybe she really does hate your swearing. Her lips are distracting, though, and you don’t mind learning that that’s one surefire way to get them back on yours.

“She really was a hateful bitch.” You murmur between kisses, and the Spaniard giggles against you.

“You’re a very angry straight girl.” She tells you, pushing your hair back off your face. “You don’t like homophobes?”

“Do you?” You ask, frowning at the woman in front of you.

“No,” she admits with a chuckle, “I’d have probably just let her get on with it quietly, though. Didn’t feel the need to anger her more!”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“You didn’t, I’d have backed you if she kept going.”

There’s that sexy little smirk again. It shouldn’t do things to you the way it does. It shouldn’t set your whole body on fire. A small curve to her lips, and you want to rip her clothes off? You’re very tragic.

You drag your eyes away from her and scan the floor number you’re on.

“Bloody hell!” You sigh. “Did you really have to book a room on the highest bloody floor? I get it, you’re rich ..but fuck me!”

You drum out your frustrations on the handrail of the lift, it’s slow ascent through the floors seemingly never-ending.

“Are you sobering up?” She asks, and you nod at her, still tapping your hands. “Are you changing your mind?”

You stop your little percussive performance and turn back to face her.

“You’re very convinced that I’m going to back out?”

“I just want you to know that you can.”

It’s genuine from her. It’s not a perverse attempt at guilt tripping, she’s not trying some weird technique of reverse psychology. She genuinely wants you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready. If your own act of confidence, is exactly that, just an act.

You take her hand and pull her back towards you. She rests her hands on the rail behind you and you lean in very close.

“Do you want me to?” You ask, and she shakes her head. You tilt her face to meet her eyes and you kiss the corner of her mouth. “Well, okay then, and neither do I.” You tell her quietly, your lips feathering hers. “So know, that until I revoke it, you have my consent ..to do whatever.”

“Careful,” she warns, “I might take you up on that.”

It earns you a deep kiss, and another cheeky smirk. There’s exhilaration shooting through your body and this goddamn endless journey through the sky is entirely unbearable.

“It’s very cute, that your hotel is so close to the bar, but it really would’ve been quicker to just go back to mine!” You point out, patting at her hands behind you.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t me that booked it.”

That’s very cryptic. What on earth is that supposed to mean?

“Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s waiting for you in there.” You tell her, narrowing your eyes as you await an explanation.

“No, it’s a ..business trip.”

That’s still very cryptic.

“A business trip? What do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“No?” You chuckle, arching an eyebrow. “Are you a spy?”

She laughs back at you, shaking her head. “No,” she assures you, “but it’s too personal.”

“Too personal? We’re not allowed to know each other’s careers?”

She shakes her head, and you find yourself smiling slightly with narrowed eyes. It’s very intriguing. If she wants you to be less interested in her, that wasn’t the way to play it.

“So, I’m guessing, I’m also not allowed to even know your name?” You check.

“A.”

“A?” You chuckle, nodding your head. “That’s a very beautiful name!” You tell her, your hand resting on her chest as you push her away from you. “There’s no way your parents were that lazy!”

“It’s my initial.” She tells you, rolling her eyes with that classic little smirk, as she pulls you back with her across to the other side of the elevator. “My first name starts with A.”

“And that’s all you’re giving me?” You ask, resting your hands on the railing behind her as she nods her head. “You really don’t want me to find you after tonight?” You question her, with your tongue tracing the bottom of your teeth. “Haven’t even been with me yet, and you already know you won’t want a repeat?”

She dips her head to kiss you again, and your hands grip at the bar behind her. You pull yourself in towards her, desperate to be closer, and she cradles your head in her hand.

“It’s not that,” she tells you gently, “but I go home tomorrow.”

Shit. That shouldn’t be so surprising to you. She has a thick Spanish accent, she’s staying in a luxury hotel, paid for by a company on her behalf. Of course she isn’t staying in London for very long. What happened to your exceptional detective skills? How did you not work that one out?

“Fuck.” Is all that falls out of your mouth as you pull yourself back from the woman.

“I’m sorry..” she offers, but you shake your head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I should have realised.” You tell her, nibbling at the inside of your mouth.

It’s a bummer, certainly. There’s something between you both. Whether it’s just a physical attraction, a sexual desire, who knows? But it’s there. You can feel it, and you’re positive that she can too. It doesn’t have to be anything deeper than that. That would mean you really did need to do some introspective work on yourself moving forward.

She’s just a woman. The one woman. The world’s most beautiful woman, who’s turned your world upside down, in a matter of hours. Who bought you a drink, that left you confused. That kissed another woman, and left you annoyed. Who refused to let you leave with a random ancient bastard and has saved you from spending a fundamentally flawed night with a limp-dicked disappointment.

And tomorrow she’ll be gone. You only have tonight with her.

You can walk, she’s already told you that. You can turn around now, and not let yourself fall any deeper. Save yourself the pain of a perfect night that you’ll never be able to repeat. Save yourself from spending the rest of your life chasing an experience you can never recreate with someone else.

It’d be hard enough to find her in London. It’ll be impossible to track her down in Spain.

Leave her now, with just the mind-numbing kisses to haunt you for all eternity. Don’t give your soul to a woman you’ll never see again. Don’t let her steal your heart away with her. Don’t ruin a life of enjoying mediocre sex for yourself.

The elevator rings out, signalling your arrival at her floor and you stay rooted to the spot as she slowly makes her exit. She looks back at you, a sad smile replacing her arrogant one.

“I understand.” She tells you, as she disappears down the hall.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all why your body feels so drawn to this woman. Why your mind, your heart, your soul are so desperate for you to chase after her. It can only spell trouble for you. One kiss with her sent your head spinning. Anything more than that will undoubtedly result in irreparable damage. How do you recover from that? How do you move on? How do you let yourself make any other meaningful connections with someone after feeling so intoxicated by a woman you know absolutely nothing about?

It isn’t possible for you to feel this way. It doesn’t make any sense. Even if you weren’t straight. Straight straight straight. How the hell can you fall for someone, when you don’t even have the luxury of knowing her first name? You don’t know what she does, you don’t know who she is. She could be an evil mastermind. A dark-sided villain who does terrible things, all the way over in Spain.

Don’t follow her. It’s foolish. It’ll be the worst mistake of your life. A night you can’t take back. An act you can’t undo.

The doors start to close in front of you, and you wedge your foot in between to stop them. You’re an idiot. A damn blasted fool.

But how could you not go after her? How can you not chase after the rush she sends through you? It’s dangerous, it’s messy, but you want her. Even though it’s just for a night. You can’t walk away from a feeling this strong. A yearning so powerful every cell in your body is screaming out for it.

She’s annoying. Frustrating. Beautiful. Enticing. There’s something, and you can’t very well just turn around and walk the other way.

You follow her into the hallway of her floor, and she turns back to face you.

“I thoug—”

“I didn’t revoke.” You tell her, shaking your head as you walk towards her. “I didn’t come up all this way to play cards, and I certainly didn’t come up all this way to go straight back bloody down again!”

She chuckles at you, shaking her head.

“And tomorrow?”

“We’ll deal with that then.” You tell her. “If it’s only meant to be one incredible night, then so be it.”

“You think it’ll be incredible?” She asks, the smirk tugging at her lips.

“With you? ..yes.”

The smirk morphs into a full smile. One that reaches her eyes. One that transforms her whole beautiful face into the most breathtaking radiance as she beams back down at you.

“And what if it’s awful?” She chuckles.

“Then I’ll be packing your bags for you to go in the morning.”

She takes a step to close the distance between you and pulls you in for a slow deep kiss.

“Are you absolutely su—”

“For fuck’s sake!” You whisper, crashing your head to her shoulder to chuckle against her neck. “Yes! I’m sure! I’m very bloody certain, I want you to take me to your room. Yes!”

“Yes ..what?”

She’s incredibly frustrating. Just wilfully annoying. Childish, pathetic, addictive, perfect. She’s everything. She’s absolutely everything.

“Please.”

________________

You don’t hate this woman. She didn’t trick you into bed at all. There’s affection between you, a fondness. It wasn’t a drunken night of angry passion. It was intimate, careful, experimental. Perfect.

You have a desperate need for this woman you’re wrapped up in. A want to have her close, to keep her with you forever. An impossible request. An unattainable, hopeless little prayer.

“You’re leaving today.” You remind her, panting slightly as she calms you from your high.

“I did tell you that.” She whispers, her fingers trailing your stomach.

“I know, I just ..it just hit me.”

You look back to her, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that you can only imagine you’re reflecting back at her with yours. You stroke your thumb over her cheek and lean in for a kiss. It’s soft, impossibly gentle. It’s the most painful way to say goodbye.

“I should go,” you tell her, “my sister will be wondering where I am. Wondering what ..man I hooked up with.” You chuckle a little pulling yourself out of her embrace.

“What will you tell her?”

“He was beautiful.” You admit. “Foreign.. Italian, I think.”

She laughs to the side of you, leaning back over towards you as she shakes her head. She places a kiss on your shoulder, lighting a tiny fire with her mouth.

“I don’t want you to go.” She tells you, placing more kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips.

You don’t want to go either, not when she’s igniting an inferno inside of your body like this. It’s cruel, it’s sadistic. It’s the perfect way to say goodbye.

“What time’s your flight?” You ask, with a mild desperation to your voice.

“Not till this evening.”

“Do you have to be anywhere else today?”

“Not till this afternoon.”

“So, we still have the rest of the morning?”

“Mhmm.”

“It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing ..if I was late back home.”

“No?”

“Unless you’re kicking me out?”

She has no intention of doing that, as well you know. She straddles herself on top of you, and your heart starts racing again. Her body on full display in front of you. The most beautiful body. She’s in incredible shape. It’d be more intimidating to you, if she hadn’t repeatedly told you how beautiful she thinks you are last night. You’re not in terrible shape yourself, but you definitely felt the need to tense more to give yourself some sort of definition. Her abs are just naturally on full display without any effort from her at all.

“You’re very beautiful.” You tell her, taking her in. “You have very beautiful ..eyes.”

“My eyes are up here.” She tells you, pointedly.

“Mhmm. Very beautiful.” You repeat, ignoring her little biology lesson as you trace your fingers over her curves.

She traps her tongue between her teeth as she smiles down at you, before leaning back in for a bruising kiss.

“You might be my favourite straight girl.” She tells you, and you roll your eyes.

“Might be?” You ask, feigning offence as you push her back up.

“You’re in the top three.” She tells you, smirking.

“Woww.” You draw out sarcastically. “That’s very charitable of you, thanks.”

She chuckles to herself, collapsing back down to run her lips across your chest. She starts trailing lower, and you can tell where she’s heading. She’s already seen to you once this morning, she’s done more than enough. You’d like to repay the favour. Frankly, you could do with a rest.

You grip at her thighs to flip her over, and the smile on her face as you do, has you kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

“Are you okay?” She asks as your eyes roam over her face.

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I remember ..really enjoying something last night.” You admit, a little cautiously.

“Yeah? I remember you enjoying it too.”

“Did ..did you enjoy it?”

“Mhmm.” She murmurs, and you can feel her body shifting beneath you. “You’re very good with your tongue.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too enthusiastically, as a tiny thrill courses right through you. You have to fight every instinct not to wet your own lips with it as she nods, that small smirk coming back into view. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You tasted good.” You breathe, clenching your jaw slightly.

“Are you still claiming to be straight?” She chuckles, her eyebrow arching.

“Mm.” You laugh, collapsing back into her for a kiss. “It’s hanging by a thread.” You admit, smiling into her as her lips move against yours. “Do you want me to?” You ask, a knowing look on your face.

“Yes.” She admits, her back arching as she readjusts herself for you.

“Yes ..what?”

She shakes her head, with a disbelieving smile. Maybe you’re in love with this stranger. Maybe she feels it too.

“..Please.” She whispers, and you don’t need asking twice.

________________

The walk back to the elevator, has no reason being as painful as it is. Even after a morning together between the sheets, a shared shower before a very late breakfast. You’ve still only known this woman a little over 12 hours. You’ve learnt absolutely nothing about her personal life, who she is, why she’s here, whether she’ll ever be back. She knows nothing about you. It isn’t right for there to be a connection between you, when you have no fundamental knowledge of each other. You could have literally nothing in common, and your heart’s tearing itself in two at the thought of her leaving for another country.

Neither of you want to say goodbye to each other. That much is obvious as you tangle your fingers with hers and stare at the button for the lift. Both elevators are on the bottom floor, you’ll still have a few minutes together even if you request it now. You can’t draw an eternity out of a few minutes, but you can savour them. It’s like setting a little timer for you as you press the button. The lift starts its ascension up the floors and the seconds you still have together start to decrease.

“This is insane.” You admit to her, your eyes beginning to sting. “I shouldn’t hate leaving you this much, I don’t even know who you are!”

“I know.” She tells you, with the same shaky breath as you.

She pulls you into her embrace and you cling to the fabric of her sweatshirt for dear life. She’s given you one of her sweatshirts, to stop you looking too dishevelled as you do the walk of shame back home. It’s a bit oversized on you, and she told you you looked adorable when you had to roll the sleeves up a couple times to free your hands.

You sort of wish she’d stop being so sweet to you. Go back to being the annoying woman that had her lips on someone else. Go back to being the weirdly confusing woman with the salt and the limes. Do anything to make saying goodbye to each other just a tiny bit more bearable.

“Imagine if you weren’t straight,” she whispers to the side of your head, “imagine the breakdown you’d be having then!”

She’s an idiot, and it does manage to make you laugh, as warm tears escape your eyes, and you bury your head further into her neck.

She’s not straight, you remember. So, maybe it’s a subtle confession of her own struggle she’s having with you parting ways. She is holding you impossibly tight, like you’ll disappear from right in front of her in a puff of smoke, if she loosens her grip even slightly.

The elevator seems to be soaring through the levels without any people in it. It’s a far more rapid process than it was when it was holding the pair of you hostage last night. That isn’t fair. Who designed that?

“It’s going to be the longest journey of my life going back down without you.” You mumble against her.

“Hopefully you don’t bump into your best friend on the way!”

“For fuck’s sake!” You laugh, pulling yourself from her and wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “That evil cow!” You let out a sigh and shake your head. “She’ll be fine with me today, to be fair. I’m straight again now!”

“Oh, of course! You can agree with each other about it being disgusting, then!”

“Mm. I mean ..we did do some pretty disgusting things to each other.” You remind her smugly.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you giving her all the details.” She winks, and you grin as you pull her back into a hug.

“I really enjoyed it.” You confess to her, quietly. “I really enjoyed being with you.”

“Me too.”

The ding of the elevator signals that your time is up. The moment you’ve been dreading, has finally arrived. You head straight in. You don’t know if it’s better to get a clean break, or prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. The doors start closing, and her foot appears in the gap to keep you for a moment longer.

She fists her hands in her sweatshirt you’re wearing and kisses you across the threshold. It’s one that catches you off guard, but you match the passion in it as soon as you realise what’s happening. The doors try closing on you a few times, but you keep blocking them with a hand. You’re not letting them steal your moment.

She breaks the kiss but keeps her grip on you. You can see the tears in her eyes, feel the ones in yours. It’s ridiculous. You catch one with your thumb as it starts to roll down her cheek and you place a kiss to where you broke its fall.

“If you’re ever back in London..” you tell her, a small smirk on your face, “just ask around for my initial. I’m sure someone will lead you back to me!”

“I’ll have to try.” She tells you earnestly, letting go of your sweatshirt and smoothing it back down for you.

“I really need to go. It’s not possible to make this any easier.” You tell her, pushing her back as the doors start their final closing attempt. “Don’t forget me!”

“I won’t remember anything else.” She tells you, as the doors close, and neither of you have chance to change your minds.

It shouldn’t hurt like this. It was a one-night stand. They’re not rare. The pair of you crying after a single night together? That’s rare. That’s ridiculous.

Collapsing in on yourself as you try to catch your breath without her? That’s insanity.

The tears flow freely as you hold yourself up against the side of the elevator. You pull the neckline of her sweatshirt up over your nose and breathe her in. Playing make believe in your head, that she’s still with you. It’s a souvenir you’ll treasure. A living memory. Proof that it wasn’t a dream, and it certainly wasn’t a nightmare. It was your perfect little night, wrapped up with the world’s most perfect woman. The woman who’s running off back to Spain with your heart in her hand luggage.

All this longing, this desire, this love, for a woman that you barely know. A woman you have no hope in ever finding again. A woman you’ve fallen head over heels for, despite being straight. Straight straight straight.

[v1sexual]

Could I pls have vi x reader who is a huge movie buff?

cinema ; vi (arcane)

request by : anon

note : as a huge movie buff myself, i absolutely love request. basing this request off me and my friend's reaction to 'long legs' by nicholas cage. spoiler : me and my bestie absolutely hated it *sighs*

content warning : swearing , op projecting and bitching about long legs

it's you and vi's monthly cinema date night. ever since you and her officially became girlfriends, going to the cinema monthly easily became a tradition. you've always been a big movie buff, something you got from your dad.

for tonight's movie, you and vi watched the latest showing for nicholas cage's new horror movie, 'longlegs'. it was highly praised online, it was even called "one of the scariest horror films". because of that, you and vi's expectations were through the roof.

"you ready for this shortcake?" vi whispered, her breath tickling your ear. you scoffed playfully and started cracking your fingers as the movie started, "i was born ready."

the movie ended around 10 minutes ago, you and vi sat inside her jeep. she looked at you expectantly, her eyes scanning your face trying to figure out why you've been dead silent. normally, you're already yapping away about the movie.

"sooo..." she started. "what are our thoughts..?" vi knew that she absolutely hated the movie, she just wanted to know your thoughts first. she's not gonna lie to you and tell you that she liked it just because you did though.

you closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath as if bracing yourself. "i... it-"

"i fucking hated it," you sighed, "i feel like we wasted money watching that piece of crap. i mean- i absolutely enjoyed the first part of the movie, i loved the foreshadowing, the literal devil in the details, the atmosphere-"

vi chuckled and stared lovingly at you, listening to every word that came out of your mouth. she's always loved how passionate you are when it comes to the things you love. with every hand gesture and facial expression you had, vi's smile grew bigger.

"- we were scammed! robbed! i've never been so disappointed in a horror movie, even fucking megan was better! i just- i don't even know what to say anymore." you let out an exasperated groan, flailing your arms before turning to vi. "what about you baby? what do you think?"

"i hated it too baby," vi said, her lips twitching into a smile. you sighed in relief, "i'm so glad- wait- you're not just saying that because i didn't like the movie right?"

vi snorted, rolling her eyes playfully at you as she started the car. "you know me better than that shortcake," she said. "just because i love you doesn't mean i'll agree to everything you say baby."

you nodded in agreement, "that's great, amazing."

silence filled the car again, your eyes were glued to your phone and vi was focused on the road. a couple of minutes later, she finally pulled in to your shared apartment.

"posted your review already?" vi asked, holding the door open for you. you smiled and nodded, holding your phone out to vi. "just posted on letterboxd, rotten tomatoes, and on my blog."

vi laughed, slinging an arm around you before pressing a kiss to your forehead, "you're such a nerd."

"you love that about me though," you said with an eye roll, your arm wrapping around vi's waist. your girlfriend sighed lovingly, "i love everything about you shortcake."

you giggled, nuzzling against vi, "i love everything about you too."

despite the intense disappointment you had for the movie, you and vi still had a great time which was the most important thing. the rest of the night was spent cuddling with her and binge watching ya'lls favorite show, and the horrible movie was soon forgotten.

note : when i said i projected i meant it *sigh* im sorry if you liked longlegs lol. anyways, hoped u guys enjoyed this one !

[zizzy-rie]

Another AU I've been thinking about for the past several days now

Here are some close ups of the second pic

More info under the cut

Lucifer Morningstar

His main job is creating toy designs and inventing them. Despite what people might think, he actually comes from a very wealthy and famous family, having owned several companies and lands in different parts of the country. Even though he has his wealth, Lucifer chose to live far from his family and start a life on his own, much to the disappointment of a lot of his relatives. From time to time, he does contact his father and siblings to catch up and know that they're okay.

Lilith Magne

She is a famous fashion model. Not much is known about where she came from as she rarely speaks about her past. Some say that she's bossy and unapproachable (men) but others see her as soft spoken and understanding (women and children). No one in society knows what she does behind her fame, except those powerful syndicates from the underworld. Lilith is a seductress killer who targets men as her victims. She lures them during huge gatherings and parties, wearing a purple gown paired with a black mask over her eyes. She leaves nothing but a black rose on the scene of the crime.

Alastor (??)

He is a radio host from an obscure radio show. Not many know who he is, much to his delight, as he prefers not being traced back to the monthly deaths happening in the city, most of which was his own doing. Alastor is quite organized with the way he chooses his prey, to the way they should be killed. In the underworld, he is well known, both by amateurs and by powerful and huge syndicates, yet no one dared to touch him or report him to authorities (they know what happens if they do, or even try to).

Relationships

Radioapple

No one knows how Lucifer and Alastor met, not even their close friends and family. One day, Lucifer was just suddenly seen arguing with Alastor on the street while holding some plastic bags filled with different things. Complicated is what can be described about their relationship. One minute, they're arguing and trying to hit each other with anything they can hold on to, then the next, you'll hear them cackling at each other's corny jokes. Their relationship got more complicated when the two got drunk off their asses and swore off and made a bet to make the other get laid.

**It would probably go something like this: Alastor and Lucifer, both very drunk and incomprehensible to anyone eavesdropping on them, somehow talking about relationships and partners (how their topic of conversation led to that is up to everyone's own interpretation).

Lucifer: Pppfft- I'm definitely a whole package! I mean just look at me! Charming, rich, handsome, great with the ladies~ Who wouldn't want that? Ehh? Eh?~

Alastor: Well, I don't see anyone hovering around you like an annoying pest now, do I? I guess you're not as charming or great as you think you are, sire.

Lucifer: You're one to talk! You've never even been on a date once!

Alastor: That's because I chose not to, Lucifer. Relationships are messy, and only complicate things. I have no time dealing with such feeble emotions such as love everyone oh so desperately craves. That is clearly not my cup of tea.

Lucifer: Pft, bet I could find you a partner that matches you.

Alastor: oh? Is that a challenge I hear, sire?

Lucifer: oh! How about this? you find me a partner to date, and I find you one as well. If one of us gets to find a match for the other in a matter of 6 months, then the winner gets to receive a reward. Sounds good?

Alastor: hhmmm, tempting, but what would be the reward, sire? If I may ask.

Lucifer: the winner gets to choose his reward, how about that? Doesn't that sound nice? Hhmm?

Alastor: Alright then, challenge accepted Lucifer. Although you're only making this easier for me, as I have never ever fallen for someone and I can assure you that it will never happen. Good luck with finding me a partner.

Lucifer: oh I definitely can, just you wait.

The current situation on their challenge so far: difficult is one word to describe it. No one has found a suitable date or partner for the other yet. [Until Lilith comes into the picture]

Radioqueen

Lilith is a witness to one of Alastor's murders. While disposing of the body, she had accidentally walked into the scene, much to Alastor's disappointment. This is their first meeting with each other, although they have heard rumors about the other from amateur criminals and rookies. Alastor, not wanting to kill Lilith because of his moral code of not killing women and children, bribed her into getting a date with one of the rich and chivalrous men in their city, Lucifer Morningstar, in exchange for her silence. Pleased with the idea (and perhaps another prey to feast on), Lilith agreed. The two exchanged contacts and have been in touch ever since. They are acquainted easily as the two share sentiments on not harming women and children in their murder spree. One detail Alastor forgot to take notice though is, Lilith's victims are men who she had a date with before their deaths.

Lucilith

The two bumped into each other in a cafe. Lucifer was getting a latte for himself, stressed out on the list he is making (names of random people he has heard of who he thinks are the type of people Alastor would go out with). Lilith was getting coffee, just finished from her modeling job in a nearby building. Their meet up was merely a coincidence, which was a delight for Lilith. This way, she could gain more information about who the person Alastor is setting her up with. Lucifer, mesmerized by her voice and stunned by her brilliance, tried to ask for her name. Unfortunately, he blurted out a different question as he was mulling over other problems in his head, such as the list for Alastor's possible dates. Asking someone to date their friend is not the kind of question anyone should be asking to a stranger, and yet it still happened to Lucifer, no less. Being possibly one of the most socially awkward people to exist, he could only sit on the ground and hide his face in shame and horror. Lilith, not expecting this kind of behavior from a rich and supposedly charming man, had found him quite cute and endearing. This is when she decided to leave her original plan of killing him, and instead vowed to marry him someday in the future.

[breezeoow]

Seventeen as an act of love-

(VOCAL UNIT)

Jeonghan as leaving sweet notes

jeonghan is a honeyed dulcet man fully charged with sweet, random, motherly comforts in his total self. showing love and giving comfort to someone through small and precious and meaningful words is such a regular thing for him to do. you just woke up in the morning? you'll find small notes stuck on your phone, your bathroom mirror, your fridge, and beside your breakfast that he made or ordered for you before leaving. you're gonna have an in important presentation today and so nervous about that? he'll leave beautiful words for you inside your notes and purse. it's a special day today? the whole house will be filled with love words and appreciations doodled by him only for you. you guys went somewhere together? he'll always leave something written there that represents his for you. writing notes for you is his favourite things to do cause he can feel the light you get from them.

Joshua as writing love letters

jisoo, the guy filled with all the gentleness of the world can radiate warmth through his words so effortlessly. writing love letters is one of a medium of it for him. you're just passing a random lazy day? suddenly you'll receive a handwritten letter with flowers and his own made jewelleries for you. it's your birthday? you always wait for his letters and he never disappoints. you're going for an important trip somewhere? virtual letters are ready for you everyday and you'll find there physical versions after coming back. you guys are in a long distance relationship? he'll have a monthly love letter streak by giving a sweet little title to it. it doesn't matter how often you're getting his letters, it just always feels so new. everything he writes never fails to leave you overwhelmed with joy and love and tender feelings. and all he wants is to make you feel he is always by your side through those letters.

Woozi as going for walks

jihoon being a stay at home person never stopped him from thinking of going for a walk with his loved ones. going for a walk with words of soft universe and curing galaxy is what he thinks for you the most. you're exhausted today? he'll take to a midnight drive to take a walk somewhere near beach and sit there. you can't stop crying and don't want to let him see? he'll understand somehow and take you to a park for a walk, holding hands, singing songs for you, so you can calm down and hide in him instead of hiding from him. it was such a busy yet joyful day? he'll take you to rooftop to have a small walk and needed refreshments talks. because he knows even a great day can be heavy sometimes. it never matters if he is busy at home or studio or somewhere else, he knows a walk with you will always heal even in the crucial times. and that's what he wants to do; heal you, staying by side of you, give you assurance in calmness that love is near, you're near love.

DK as capturing random photos

seokmin is sweetest memory keeper boy who exists here. capturing every tiny things and going through them afterwards, makes him want to do a lot more. you're doing your work at home? he's capturing those moments of yours so carefully. you're cooking his favourite dish? every step of it will have their own click. you guys went for a walk together? the camera roll is filled with every tiny movements of yours that you never noticed. you're eyes, your checks, your hands, your hairstyles and every other things will be saved to him. he just loves loves loves doing this knowing you don't mind at all. and also he loves to gift them to you in a bunch together occasionally showering with love words.

Seungkwan as peppy surprises

seungkwan is a personified surprise himself. he never fails to show his warmth through his considerations. it's weekend today? he'll show up with so much dishes from your favourite restaurant to eat together. you're working late today? all the house chores will be done by him including his own cooked meals for you. you guys are going on a vacation somewhere? each day will be filled with tiny tiny surprises that he picked for you without letting you know. it's a special day for you? boom! a song will get released which just talks about you. he never tries too hard to show or admits these activities as surprises, but you know how much he loves to do this small to bigger gestures just to see that lightened smile of yours.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-one — oh no, he’s hot! (💋)

You can’t believe you agreed to this.

Oh wait, actually you can. Your mind keeps deciding what’s good for you, but was your mind even in the right place anyway? It’s really hard to come to terms with this right now while you’re sitting in Scaramouche’s passenger seat.

Was the Inazuma party that great for him to offer on his own to pick you up? If it weren’t for your absolute mastermind of a plan, you’d definitely say no. Hopefully?

But the both of you nestling in the straw bed of silence wasn’t on your bucket list for said plan. “How much longer?” You asked, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between you two like a thick fog.

“Thirty minutes.” Scaramouche’s dull tone was a true testament to the silence that encompassed them moments ago. It was kind of sad.

“And…how long was it when you started..?” You hesitantly drawled.

“Thirty-two minutes.”

“Oh my god,” You muttered, sinking into your seat. You should have never agreed for him to give you a ride, it’s like his brooding broodiness was plaguing your lungs.

But for some reason! You kept trying. “So! Uh…what made you want to pick me up anyway? We’ve got…some interesting history for you to be making this kind of effort right now!”

“I don’t do small talk.”

“Look, you gotta give me something. I’m dying here.” You pleaded with your eyes, probably the only sort of manipulation tactic you could try and use on him.

He let out a long, drawn out sigh. His violet eyes briefly flickering to meet yours before returning to the road. “It was either that, or bartend.”

“Wait, seriously? That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow, cheeks puffed from your fight to keep a laugh in. “You didn’t just want to be a good Samaritan, or what?”

“Do I look like I’d do something out of the goodness of my heart?” Scaramouche’s expression turned sour.

“I don’t know! You’re alright, I guess.” You caught yourself staring for a lot longer than expected, “Uhh, in the way that a clown at kids birthday parties has an extensive knife paraphernalia…kind of…alright?”

You cringed. This is a horrible conversation, even more so now that Scaramouche was willing to ignore what you said.

But the quieter it got, the better it was to hear a small laugh come out of his mouth. Even if you could barely hear the humor he got out of it. You looked at him, catching a glimpse of his mouth turned upwards.

There it was. The butterflies roaming in your stomach, vicariously reminding you of your own carefree mind. A faint glimmer of his amusement was enough to make you nervous, even when he barely made an effort to keep the small smile.

The crack in his demeanor returned to normal, once again unreadable. "Is that all you got?"

You felt a pang of disappointment at his lack of response, shoulder slumping. The awkward feeling was pretty much gone, but at what cost to your dignity? "Yeah, I guess so."

“You’re alright too, (Y/N).”

“Huh? I am..?" Oh no, he’s hot!

“Yeah. It’s unfortunate.”

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @melpomenelurks

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[theamazingdigitalraceway]

THE HALLOWEEN DLC

A RACEWAY AU CANON SPINOFF

WARNING: body horror, blood, gore, peril, suggestive, alcohol

~~~

"I have a very special announcement, my wonderfully wacky wallabies!" Caine floated overhead as everyone filed into the garage from their daily race. "According to my calendar, tomorrow is Halloween! And I know how much you all just LOVE your holidays!" An oversized monthly calendar appeared with pictures of Bubble posing with fancy cars. It flipped open to October, where the 31st was circled multiple times in red.

"OOO! The Halloween race! It's one of my favorites!" Ragatha clapped and bounced on her toes. "I can't wait to see what role you play, Loo!" She held her girlfriend's hand excitedly.

Loo smiled, "I've never been part of a spooky track before."

"And spooky it shall be! I even have fun costumes planned out for all of you this year! Along with tons of tricks and treats around every corner!" Caine tore the calendar in half and it exploded into a shower of candy and decorations that covered the inside of the garage.

Gangle shielded herself from the falling candy with her sketchbook. "There's not going to be a lot of jumpscares, will there?"

"Don't be a drag! What's a haunted track without jump scares to keep you on your toes?" Caine took a piece of candy off of Gangle's book and popped it in his mouth wrapper and all. "Don't worry, the people in the front of the pack will get them more than those in the back."

Gangle wasn't really reassured. She just looked at Zooble sadly, silently begging them to stay close to her on the track.

Pomni cringed. Of course there was a Halloween race. "Caine-"

"Yes, my dear?" He popped up in front of her, eager to hear what she had to say.

"Um, can I opt out tomorrow?"

Caine deflated, "Opt out?"

"Yeah, I don't really like horror, and I don't handle jumpscares that well." Pomni rubbed her arm anxiously. She could see the disappointment on Caine's face. "I'm sorry, but I'd just...rather not..."

Caine straightened up, taking Pomni's hand. "It's alright. All tracks are optional. If you'd you'd really rather not participate, you don't have to. There's always the next holiday."

"Thank you." She gave him a grateful smile.

Caine gazed back at her lovingly for so long, the others felt awkward witnessing it. Jax popped up between them. "So! How hard are you going on the scare factor this year? It's not going to be BORING, is it?"

Caine and Pomni separated with a simultaneous yelp. Pomni thumped Jax on the head out of reflex. "Don't do that! What did I just say about jumpscares!?"

Jax shoved Pomni away from him by her face. "Whatever, short stack."

Caine fixed his hat. "Now, now, I mustn't spoil too much! Part of what makes Halloween special is the surprise. With that said, rest up, everyone! Tomorrow is a big day!" He disappeared in a puff of smoke shaped like a pumpkin.

"Well, all of that sounds exciting." Gummigoo mentioned from his relaxed lean against the wall.

"Tch, you don't even know what Halloween is." Jax snarked.

"So? Still sounds fun. Unlike you, right now. You sound like a spoiled brat unwilling to let anyone have more excitement than you over this holiday." Gummigoo air quotes. "If you want to be a killjoy, save it for the track."

Jax's ears flatten in offense to Gummigoo's accusations and got in his face. "Listen here, you pile of gelatin-"

"Nah." Gummigoo pushed Jax back with a single hand and walked past him dismissively, leaving Jax stunned. Gummigoo sat next to Pomni and grabbed a handful of candy from one of the decorative bowls that appeared when Caine's calendar exploded. "You sure you don't want to race tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Gummigoo, but I really can't handle it unless it was a pretty tame family friendly event. Knowing Caine, I highly doubt it."

"If it's anything like last year," Zooble chimed in. "The track itself will be pretty intense."

"But the Halloween party after the race is a lot of fun." Gangle said. "It makes dealing with the race worth it. I mean, I'm sure you can still join the party even if you don't race, but it does feel more like a reward when you brave the track first. Like a yummy caramel apple after a haunted house."

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll just have the caramel apple." Pomni took a piece of candy offered to her by Gummigoo.

"Fair enough." Gangle shrugged.

~

Caine sorted through some digital files in his workshop. "Let's see...Pomni, Pomni, Pomni, AH! Here she is." He separated a piece of code and flicked it away, where it fizzled into nothing. "There, I removed her costume from the event. Since...she won't need it." He sighed.

Bubble appeared next to Caine, floating upside down. "Why the long face, boss?"

"It's nothing, Bubble." Caine zipped the Halloween file back up and looked out at the track prepared for tomorrow.

"Disappointed she won't see you're craftsmanship, huh? Are you building things just to impress her?" Bubble asked with a mischievous grin.

Caine clutched the file so tight, the file made an error sound. "No! I just- SHE- I'm- ....take this to the mainframe, would you?" He shoved the file in Bubble's mouth. "I've got some final prep to do." He floated away with an intense blush burning between his teeth.

"Wahevah oo shay, bosh." Bubble giggled.

There was a soft disturbance of static on an asset next to Bubble. A small arc jumped to the file between their teeth. The zipped file glitched, but Bubble took no notice as they teleported away. Bubble reappeared in a grey space with a giant pillar reaching endlessly into the blank sky, and going just as far out of sight downward. The static in the file buzzed excitedly. However, when Bubble teleported through the pillar wall, the static was left behind. The static buzzed angrily, snaking around the pillar and tried to force it's way in. The pillar's security was too strong. The static couldn't just go through. It needed to be weakened. Broken. The static arced out of sight.

Bubble spat out the file and it unzipped itself in the air. The code introduced to the mainframe was orange and black and purple, and jittered and glitched. "Oooo, nice effects, boss. Very aesthetic." Bubble left, their task complete.

The code of the entire game started to change. The colorful glitched code spread like a virus. A face appeared on the code, one of glowing eyes and sharpened teeth. The code erupted into red and orange fire, an evil laugh echoing through the pillar.

~

Pomni wasn't sure why she woke up. Her room was peacefully dark and quiet, so she rolled over to get comfortable again and tried to go back to sleep. A disturbance from one of the rooms next to hers made her ears perk. A pained moan came through the wall, much clearer this time. Pomni sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. More awake, she could tell it was coming from Gummigoo's room.

More moans and groans, but now they came from beyond her door. "What in the world?" Pomni got out of bed and stuck her head out to the loft. She looked both ways, hearing groans turn into grunts and some screams. Pomni jumps, slamming her door and locking herself inside. Her heart started to pound with panic. "Okay, I'm having a dream. That's it. Weird dream. Super weird-"

BANG!!

Something heavy hit her wall and roared. There was a comption from the other side, like fighting. Pomni backed up to her window, nearly hyperventilating. More crashing. More banging. More unworldly, animalistic sounds. Then, something was coming under her door. Sickly green ooze slid across the floor towards Pomni. The ooze had fragments of bones floating in it and it stunk with a strangely sweet vapor that burned Pomni's lungs. A large gator head rose from the ooze, dripping with the foul substance. Then another. And a third. All three heads opened their terrible maws and gave a hauntingly low moan.

Pomni was in tears, ready to jump out the window. "Gummigoo?? Oh god!"

The ooze advanced slowly, parts of it literally reaching out for her. The wall to Pomni's left exploded. A large, gangly rabbit beast crashed through, fighting tooth and claw with a beast made of mismatched limbs. The debris squished the ooze down, away from Pomni, but it was slowly working its way through the cracks and gaps.

The rabbit got the chimera by the neck with its teeth and threw it at Pomni, she ducked out of the way in time for it to break through the window and fall two stories to the ground outside. Pomni didn't stick around to identify this monster. She bolted for the new hole in the wall. The rabbit lunged to give chase, but fell flat on its face when one of its back lacks was stuck in the corrosive ooze seeping up from the debris pile.

The walls between multiple bedrooms were broken, furniture was upturned and smashed. "Anyone!? Help!" She tripped and nearly went face first into a desk, but she caught herself. The heavy rattling of chains sliding across the floor made her pause for only a moment, but it was long enough for her leg to be snagged by a thick chain.

A pile of chains and ropes clawed its way up the ceiling. A mangled kitsune mask with impossibly long teeth and glowing eyes stared back at her. Pomni fought the chain's hold. "No! Let me go!" Her cries were answered by more chains attempting to bind her.

Pomni's struggle was joined by laughter. Two disturbingly delighted voices from the shadows of the adjacent room came closer. A thin hand gripped the ceiling as the entering entity hand to duck. A woman far too tall with twisted limbs and mouths in places she shouldn't, grabbed at the chains holding Pomni.

The second laughing voice lumbered in as a broken mannequin. Her hair was thin and wild, her eye was sunken and covered in maggots. Her limbs hung by mere threads. Rotted stuffing fell from her like ash. "Play..." Rasped the broken doll.

As Pomni struggled, she realized the chains were trying to tie down her right hand specifically. In her panic, she had forgotten. She fought harder, but the chains were tightening and the drooling mouths of the tall monster woman were baring down on her. "Caine!"

The floor broke apart as another monstrous being entered the already crowded room. A massive worm covered end to end with realistic human eyes split the room in two. The rotten doll fell through and the woman covered in moths roared at the intruding worm. The worm roared back. It's front spitting open to reveal too many teeth and a large eye in the center. The worm attacked, shoving the tall woman back and digging into her stomach. The monster woman's stomach split open to reveal its own teeth and bit back. Monster blood sprayed the room as they struggled.

The chains around Pomni loss end as the mass of tangled chains slid away from the confrontation. Pomni kicked her legs and arm free and staying out of reach of the long grasping limbs of the mouth covered monster. The window in the room was already broken. Pomni snapped her hand and threw herself out the window.

She never hit the ground. Protective arms held her close as she was flown high above the garage. "Pomni! Thank goodness, I thought you changed too!"

"Caine!" Pomni hugged him tight, still shaking. "What's happening!? There are monsters everywhere!"

"I don't know, the whole game's gone sideways! I'm locked out of the mainframe and everything is glitching, look!"

Sure enough, the entire world around them was glitching out. Textures mixed and fanished into darkness. The default track was partly changed into a new track that resembled a haunted carnival, but parts of it disappeared at random. The monsters inside the garage broke out and scattered to the new world. All of them resemble her friends, but in the most grotesque ways

The start line was made of bones, topped with flaming skulls. The display was as bright and colorful as ever, juxtaposed to the grim sight of realistic human remains. Only one kart was at the ready: Pomni's.

Caine put two and two together. "I think...you need to race."

"WHAT!? No way! Do you even see the state of the track!?"

"It's unstable because there are no racers. The race has been activated but no one is playing. I think, if you just run the course and complete the programmed task, things should go back to normal."

"You THINK??"

"I can only make an educated guess, Pomni! This has never happened before! I- I don't know what else to do!" He pleaded with her.

"You do it!"

"I can't! I'm not a designated racer!"

Pomni took deep breaths. "I swear, of this is all an elaborate prank to get me to participate in Halloween-"

"I swear on my life, it's not. This is a perversion of my vision! Everything is...wrong. Please, Pomni. I need your help."

Pomni looked out at the game half falling apart, then Caine. The sincerity in his eyes told her he was telling the truth. "Okay...I'll do it."

"Oh, thank you!" He pressed his bottom teeth to her forehead in a grateful kiss. "My brave racer, thank you! Let's get you geared up." He teleported with her to the start line and set her down. He snapped and her tracksuit changed into tan pants, mudded boots, and a brown leather jacket. She kept her jester hat, but gained large giggles and a satchel for accessories. Pomni looked down at herself. "Is this really necessary?"

"If we want the program to finish, we have to complete the task in it's entirety. Besides, you look great." Caine crossed his arms, proud of the movie action hero inspired get up.

Pomni sighed, letting it go. "Alright. Let's get this over with." When she got in her kart, the track stabilized. Everything gradually changed to the overboard Halloween aesthetic, with only a few small glitches here and there.

Caine twirled his cane, but instead of holding up to his mouth to make his announcements, he dropped it. He felt...strange. A violent vibration from his very core made him clench and cringe in pain.

"Caine? Caine, are you okay!?"

Caine's teeth clenched and his body glitched as he screamed in agony.

"Caine!?"

Caine's head went orange and morphed into a giant pumpkin. His clothes became more elaborate. The tips of his fingers sharpened and dug into his new head as his muffled screams continued. Suddenly, the pumpkin split apart with a burst of red and gold fire. White fire eyes burned bright as the screams became maniacal laughter. "Finally..."

Pomni could only stare in shock and disbelief. She felt a chill when the new Caine looked down at her, then screamed when he teleported right in front of her.

"Already afraid? Good." Caine's voice was ghostly and hissed like blazing fire.

"Caine..? Are you...still you?" Pomni sat as far back as she could from the pumpkin head in her space.

"Of course I am, my dear." He dragged a clawed finger down her jaw, then pushed her chin up with the sharp point, forcing her to look up at him. "But I've realized there's no point in wasting such a perfectly good track. Especially now that I have you all to myself. I want to play a game."

"Caine, this isn't funny. Just-"

Caine roughly gripped her chin. "Oh, but it is. You, my lone racer, will run my course. Survive three laps and you shall be rewarded." His blazing eyes very obviously ogled her. "Fail..." He chuckled darkly, "And it's game over."

Pomni's eyes went wide. "What happens..?"

Caine leaned in close, lowering his voice to a haunting whisper. "Have you even thrown a kitten a wall so hard you split it's little head in two?"

"What the- NO! What do you- ...the exit is broken....oh god." Pomni realized.

Caine flew away from her, laughing and spinning in the air. His high collar, blood red coat flared out, showing his black and orange striped corset vest. His gold ascot and cumberbun accented a black dress shirt and pants. His typical shoes where long, knee-high boots with raised heels. The only part of him Pomni recognized was the black and white checkered pattern on the inside of his coat.

"Don't get caught! Don't delay! For there is more than mere tricks on this track! If you die in the game, you die in real life! Your friends will be doomed to roam my labyrinth forever! RACE! FOR! YOUR! LIFE!!" Caine's shrill laugh was echoed by the stands of broken and mangled NPCs.

Pomni's kart started without her promoting it. She was out of options. Race or die. The rush was already coursing through her avatar. She wasn't shaking anymore, she was determined. Her back was against the wall. Her friends were counting on her. She gripped the steering wheel and reved the engine while glaring down Caine.

Caine's fire flared in response. "Excellent..." He hissed with glee. He snapped his fingers and Bubble appeared with a human spine hanging from their mouth, a realistic skull swinging at the end.

The left eye lit up.

Pomni narrowed her eyes at Caine.

The right eye lit up.

Caine's broken pumpkin grin looks down on her, his hands behind his back.

The human jaw opened with a ghoulish green light glowing from the back of the mouth.

Pomni burned out off the start line and took off into he unknown horrors that waited her. Caine laughed again, manic that he had someone to play with.

Spooky carnival music started to play and he addressed the audience in the stands. "Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and ghouls! Step right up! Behind this curtain lies a ghastly concoction of delight, horror, fantasy and terror! Your every wish is our command! Your every whimsical desire brought to life! But I'm warning you... there's always a price. WELCOME TO THE GREATEST SHOW UNEARTHED!!"

The dark carnival is in town

Normally, Pomni could tune out the ambient game music, but it was in her ears this time. She couldn't ignore the chorus of taunting haunts. The carnival the track when through was dilapidated but still had lights and running rides. The track boosters glowed purple and the surprise boxes looked like ghostly pumpkins.

You better be ready

Just follow the parade

Of dancing skeletons

Full of ghoulish delights

Around every corner

Don't tell your parents you're here

They will soon be mourners

Welcome to the lower birth

Pomni avoided skeletons emerging from the track, reaching for her kart. She grabbed a pumpkin.

The greatest show unearthed

We appear without a sound

The darkest show around

We will leave you in a daze

Madness, murder, dismay

We will disappear at night

With blood on the concrete

I will be your ticket taker

Pomni gasped, seeeing Loo and Ragatha out on the carnival midway and making a grab at her kart. Blood oozed from Loo's many mouths as she moved with speed she didn't show before. Red threads from Ragatha tried to tangle Pomni, but was lit on fire by Pomni's chili pepper item. Pomni stepped on it to outrun Loo, drifting the kart into a fun house.

Come inside, it's a dream

Enter the fun house of mirrors

No one can hear you scream

We can supply anything

That your heart desires

But the consequences

Will surely be dire

Welcome to the lower birth

Pomni didn't make it far before Gummigoo and Gangle made grabs for her. Chains and green ooze gab right though the walls and came from all directions in the hall of mirrors. "Screw the mirrors!" She drove through them to get back to the track.

The greatest show unearthed

We appear without a sound

The darkest show around

We will leave you in a daze

Madness, murder, dismay

We will disappear at night

Pomni got another Pumpkin, but had to avoid breaks in the track before she could use it. Kinger, the giant worm, breached the surface and came down over her again and again. She swerved though every near miss.

With blood on the concrete

Come inside for the ride

She thought she got away but then something heavy landed on the hood of her kart. She flipped over the obstacle and was delayed for a mere second, but it was long enough to allow the chimera with the triangular head to charge. Pomni drove off with Zooble in hot pursuit.

Your deepest, darkest fears

The best night of your life

You're never leaving here

The unknown

The unseen

Is what you're gonna find

Witness this

Witness that

Until you lose your mind

Welcome to the lower birth

Zooble's snake tail snapped at Pomni as their uncanny human hand dug into her track like an animal. They jumped at her and Pomni was almost grabbed, but Pomni got a hold of the knife in Zooble's head and forced it in further. Zooble fell back.

The greatest show unearthed

We appear without a sound

The darkest show around

We will leave you in a daze

Madness, murder, dismay

We will disappear at night

Pomni jumped the break in the track over a swirling pool of mass hysteria. "Is that all of them??" The flash of purple in her peripheral told her otherwise. She put the pedal to the floor just in time for Jax to lash out at her. The were-rabbit's claws screeched like nails on a chalkboard against Pomni's kart. Sparks flew, but she swerved at him, sideswiped him and got him off balance.

With blood on the concrete

Pomni used her item, a booster cupcake, and rocketed towards the finish to complete lap one.

~

Caine watched Pomni fly by and narrowed his flaming eyes. "Is it just me folks, or was that TOO EASY? What do you say we make this more INTERESTING!?" Caine snapped and the track started to shift. Hills and curves and jumps moved out of place and changed positions.

~

Tracks had been shifted around lap to lap before, but not while she was actively driving on it. The track that was beneath her raised up and she had to jump to another floating piece to keep moving. The monsters and obstacles moved around her in such a way that she couldn't strategize, she could only react. She was confused, believing herself to be driving in circles around this cursed carnival.

"Are you trying to [%$!#] kill me!?" She cried out to the world around her.

Caine's voice cracked through the radio of her kart. "Why yes, I am. Certainly wouldn't be a very entertaining show If I didn't put at least a little bit of effort into ending your life."

"It's just a game, Caine!"

"Oh, my dear...your life is no game to me. When you die you'll glitch out in the game over, and when you do...you'll become a part of me. The very thought of knowing your code will be consumed by mine and be a part of it forever...I shudder."

"That's not going to happen!" Pomni shouted as she blasted through a loop and avoided a swipe from Loo's sharp fingers.

"I may not be able to force the outcome, but I can certainly stack the deck in my favor. You will be mine, Pomni. Forever."

The track split open right in front of her speeding kart. The blackness inside was a chorus of inhuman shrieks and roars. Pomni manages to keep her kart to one side, with her tire half hanging over the edge as she drives around the break.

A huge black mass rose from the pit, its multicolored eyes found Pomni immediately. Pomni threw a popper and sped off as fast as she could.The popper glitched out when it touched the abstraction, doing nothing to stop it from escaping the cellar. It was followed by another...then another...more.

The carnival was overrun with glitching, aggressive abstractions. Everything they crashed into glitched out, including those turned into monsters. The track devolved into complete chaos. Pomni wasn't even sure if there was a designated track anymore. Turns and jumps and boosters were in random spots and going off into random directions.

~

Caine cackled, flying over the carnage. He needed to see this for himself, not through one of his POVs. "Oh, Kinger! Your wife's home!" He watched with morbid delight at the elongated abstraction that was once Queenie stomped Kinger, popping out two of his eyes in a gush of blood.

"Yes! Yes! Jax! Tell your mother I said hello!" An abstraction with too many limbs was in an all out brawl with Jax. Chunks of flesh were bitten off and glitched out of existence.

"Such sweet family reunions! Ragatha! I know your sister missed you! You were the last name on their lips before they abstracted!" Caine screamed with laughter as Ragatha was pinned down and glitched by an oversized abstraction. Parts of her body were spazzing so far out, they were not reconnecting.

"Such carnage! Such beautiful mayhem! This is the most fun I've had in YEARS!! I feel so FREE!!" Caine's fire flared its highest, consuming his whole head and flickering several feet above him.

~

Pomni heard everything through her radio as she navigated the carnival. Her heart hurt for her friends. So many lost loved ones. She tried not to take everything Caine was saying too seriously, he wasn't himself. He was a victim of this corruption too.

She followed a piece of track to the rollercoaster where she had to ride the rails between coaster trains. She saw the ferris wheel next to her and figured she could use that to get over the pit again.

Items pumpkins were all over the place now. She grabbed one she went by on a jump. Using the clown horn from it, she spooked the avatar tiona trying to follow her and her kart hit the ferris wheel. The momentum from the hit for the wheel so spin fast. Fats enough, that she was flung off an over the pit end over end. With Jax distracted, she blew right by him and made a run for the finish line.

~

Caine was enthralled by the abstractions. Loo and Gummigoo were cornered by a particularly aggressive abstraction. Loo was crushed and broken in half by the glitching, while Gummigoo was relatively unharmed but just as incapacitated. The gator heads that emerged from the ooze were put down the moment they formed.

"Oh, to see them have fun again. I have missed you all."

"I hope you're ready to put them back!"

"What??" Caine turned to see Pomni cross the finish line a second time. One more and she finishes the race. "No! I won't let you win so easily! You're too far ahead-!! ...You're too far ahead." Caine's laugh starts as a slow realization and crescendos into a maniacal cackle that hurts his ribs. He would cry with mirth if he could. "Oh, my dear, you know not what's coming. Death approaches fast and unseen, like a shadow in the night."

~

Pomni wanted to punch her own radio to shut him up, she needed to focus. Gangle spear out like a spider web between two pieces of overlapping track and carnival game tents. She had nowhere to go other than straight through, so she had to brave the tangle of chains head on. She popped a cupcake and hit a speed boost right before the tangle of Gangle. Every chain that dangled was a risk but she moved too fast.

The institution of an abstraction helped. Gangle was glitched and was too busy to reach out for Pomni. Even though Pomni did have to suck the claws twice before she was free.

The track continued to move out of sync like an every changing labyrinth. Because of Caine's desperation, the carnival was completely unrecognizable. The track and assets were folded in on each other and glitched erratically. Abstractions crawled and climbed on every broken piece. The cellar was wide open, nothing but pitch blackness below.

Pomni was well practiced at maneuvering around the obstacles and avoiding the abstractions, but trying to follow any piece of the track was impossible at this point. She jumped a barrier and tried sneaking around some of the chaos on the outside edge of the carnival. Beyond the tents was just woods, like this took place in the middle of nowhere. Pomni was locked in trying to zip last everyone when her body reacted before her mind even process what happened. A flash of silver was her only warning. It was like time slowed down. She slammed her brake in time for a clawed hand the size of her head slash across her vision mere inches from her face.

The black and silver creature landed on all fours and dug in its claws to stop. With a ear-splitting roar, it teleported and swiped at Pomni again. Pomni could barely get a good look at it, the beast was moving too fast. It appeared and disappeared at every turn and every attack was only a near miss from Pomni's hair trigger reaction time. The race rush had her in overdrive.

~

"YES! Destroy her avatar!" Caine's coat billowed in the non-existent wind as his excitement grew. "No one can outrun their own shadow!"

~

"Okay, mother[%$!#]. You want a piece of me? Come and get me!" Pomni couldn't let it take her by surprise so she got out of mess of tents and made for open track where the abstractions were. She dove under the taller ones and in between the grouped ones.

Out in the open, Pomni could catch better glimpses of what she was up against. The large, quadrupedal beast with no eyes and jagged teeth had shadows billowing from its oversized mouth. A silver-blue flame burned at the end of a long tail that left a trail of flames behind. All four legs ended with claws that gripped every surface.

"God, Seth, what did he do to you?" Pomni said to herself as she focused on loosing him in the carnival of chaos.

Seth was no shaken. He was locked on Pomni like a hunter, teleporting to her only to miss at the last second. He avoided every abstraction, maneuvered over every obstacle, and completely ignored the other racers turned monsters.

Pomni broke free of the carnival and jumped the pit. Mid-air, Seth teleported to her and she couldn't get away this time. He slashed her kart and she crashed hard on the ramp down towards the finish line. Her kart barrel rolled down the slope and hit a glitching barrier. Before she could orient herself, Seth was upon her. She slammed the accelerator and her kart started to freak out against the wall. She had no sense of up or down. She didn't know where the glitch was going to spit her out. This was her last ditch attempt to get away.

Pomni closed her eyes, not wanting this monstrous game to be the last thing she saw. She thought of her friends as she knew them. She thought of Caine as she thought she knew him. If this was it, those would be her final thoughts.

The kart broke free of the glitch, rocketing down the track as a speed so great the game could barely register Pomni's presence. Her and the kart flickered in and out of digital space, threatening to disappear. Seth had to teleport over and over just to keep up. He roared at teleport between her and the finish line, intent on bringing his great maw down on Pomni before she crossed. However, the kart collided with him so hard, it broke apart. He was thrown backwards across the finish line, Pomni crashing across with him.

~

A shock wave rippled across the whole track from the finish line. "NO! NOOOO!! AAAAARGH!!" The top part of Caine's broken pumpkin head came down and he held his head together as he once again experienced some of the most searing pain of his life.

The track pulled itself back together. The abstractions were pulled back into the cellar, the pits closing. Everything still looked haunted and creepy, but calm. Caine sank to the ground, falling to his knees on unsteady legs. He felt dizzy, but his head was clear again. He could think straight. His pumpkin head opened and he looked around. Seth and Pomni were passed out a good few hundred feet from the finish line. The other racers were nowhere to be seen.

He felt weak, but willed himself to teleport to Pomni. He carefully pulled her up into his lap and cupped her cheek. "Pomni..? Pomni, are you alright?"

Pomni groaned, slowly opening her eyes. "Huh..? AAAH!!" Her fist flies up and sucker punches Caine right through the bottom of his pumpkin head. Her hand gets stuck and as she rolls away from him, she takes his head with her.

Caine's body gets up and reaches out to Pomni. "Pomni! Please! Stop thrashing me around! It's me! Everything is okay! Everything is normal again!"

Pomni used her boot to pry the pumpkin jaw off her hand. "WHY DO YOU STILL LOOK LIKE THAT!?" She saw Seth and jumped away from him as he started to move. "WHY DOES HE STILL LOOK LIKE THAT!? WHY DID YOU TRY TO KILL ME!?!?"

Caine got his head back on and rubbed the sore hole Pomni left in his lower jaw. "Pomni, please calm down. The race is over. The costumes are still active. I meant for them to last the whole night. I'm guessing everyone still looks like monsters because the costumes themselves were what got corrupted. Including mine. Pomni, I am SO sorry. I don't know what came over me. Please, believe me when I tell you I don't want you to die."

Pomni was shaking head to toe and was completely exhausted as the race rush left her system. "I don't know. You seemed pretty gung-ho about making me a part of you."

"That's just the twisted version of what I really want, to be with you. Pomni, I may be a bit over the top with my affections, but I would NEVER harm you." The flames in his pumpkin lowered and dimmed, his glowing eyes saddened by the very thought of her getting hurt. "I'm still learning, but I do care about you. Do you believe that?"

Pomni gave herself a moment to collect her thoughts. "...yes." She stepped towards him but was blocked by Seth getting in Caine's face, snarling.

"Do you mind!? We're having a conversation here!" Caine doesn't back down from Seth's attempt at intimidation. "The race is over, You should go back to normal like everyone else after midnight."

Seth growled and snapped his jaws threateningly at Caine.

"Uh-huh, see, there's a reason I took away your ability to talk. Go be annoying elsewhere." Caine fire flared back up.

"I think he has every right to be upset." Pomni crossed her arms. "It's been a rather [%$!#] up night for all of us."

Seth turned his head towards Pomni briefly. Then grabbed Caine's pumpkin head and bit down. The flaming pumpkin was crushed and extinguished inside Seth's mouth. Caine's body felt the empty space where his head had been, stomped the ground indignantly, and pointed to his shoulders.

Pomni laughed. "Now I don't have to listen to either one of you. Don't worry, Caine, you'll be normal after midnight."

Caine crossed his arms in a huff.

Seth spat out the remains and sat pretty, pleased with himself.

"Hey, are you... actually okay?" Pomni carefully asked Seth.

Seth turned his head to her and nodded once before leaning his head against her and rumbling lowly in what could be interpreted as a purr.

Pomni patted his head. "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. I don't know why you two are constantly at each other like this, but let's just try and make it through the rest of the night without biting any more heads off, okay?"

Seth's duel tongues lulled out of his monster mouth and licked Pomni's face hard enough to send the goggles flying to someplace unknown.

"....gross."

Caine's body pulled Pomni away from Seth and made several hand gestures as though he were on a rant.

Seth practically grinned watching Caine silently lose his mind.

~

Everyone eventually found their way to the garage, still monstrous and sore. The Garage was decorated top to bottom for a Halloween party, but everyone with opposable thumbs only helped themselves to the funny juice. Pomni tossed a bottle into Gummigoo, who groaned a thrice echoed thanks.

Pomni sat with Caine on the only of the long couches. She had Caine on one side, and a giant Seth taking up the rest of the couch on the other side. Caine couldn't drink, Seth swallowed a whole bottle and Pomni was helping herself to a cup.

"So, does everyone remember what went down?" Pomni asked the others.

"Unfortunately." Rasped Ragatha, whole solemnly drank.

Loo sat next to her, pouring a drink into her stomach mouth. Her knee spoke, "I don't think I'll be interested in being part of the Halloween tracks from now on."

A mischievous chuckle made Pomni look up. Jax was up the wall, nearly on the ceiling, taking advantage of his new bodies, strength and dexterity. His grip was uncertain, as he had a few drinks before attempting this. Only a moment later, he fell from the ceiling, landing on Gummigoo. They both thrashed, trying to separate, but the more Jax struggled, the more stuck he became. No one got up to help. Jax was on his own against the gummy goo.

Gangle whimpered from her piled up body in the corner. Not even Zooble could console her. Zooble sat awkwardly on one of the recliners. Their quadrupedal body sat limply, the snake tail chugged bottle after bottle. "Caine, I mean this with every fiber of my being: go [%$!#] yourself."

"It wasn't his fault. The game's been experiencing a lot of glitches lately." Pomni lightly defended. In truth, she didn't know what went down any more than anyone else. "Speaking of, Caine, shouldn't you check the mainframe?"

Bubble popped in right over Caine's shoulders. "I was just there! Everything is still kind of weird, but at least it's not farting lightning anymore."

Caine tapped his wrist.

"It should be fine after midnight?" Pomni asked.

"Yep!" Bubble cheerfully answered for Caine.

"Well, at least you're all okay mentally." Pomni sighed and absentmindedly pet Seth, whose head rested in her lap.

"I wouldn't say that." Bubble said with a grin, and didn't elaborate.

Caine's fingers rapped against his leg, something was still agitating him. Before Pomni could ask, he snapped and a hand sized plush mango fruit appeared in his hand. He squeezed it, making it squeak. It got Seth's attention and he tossed it to the far side of the garage. Seth vaulted over the couch after it.

Pomni arched a brow at Caine. "What was that about?"

"The boss is a jealous little-" Caine popped Bubble before they could finish their sentence, then shrugged his shoulders.

Pomni rolled her eyes and laughed. The first real laugh all night. "Caine, really? You have nothing to worry about." She put her hand on his. "I have my sights set elsewhere."

Caine sat up a little straighter, his hand carefully taking hers without scratching her. He lifted her hand up as though to kiss it, but forgot he had no head. His shoulders slumped and Pomni giggled.

"After midnight." She squeezed his hand, he squeezed in return.

Everyone tried to forget that they looked like nightmare fuel and relax. The funny juice helped. Soon, they were enjoying s'mores cooked over Seth's flame and carving pumpkins with Zooble's head knife. They ate candy and watched cheesy black and white horror films. They even got Gangle to untangle herself a bit to have a bite.

~

In their attempts at calm, no one noticed Kinger wasn't around. They assumed he was in his room, decompressing, but if any of them looked outside, they would see a massive hole in the ground that spiraled down into the dark. It burrowed through the deepest soil and thought he barrier to the cellar, where Kinger has fallen into the deepest dark.

Kinger did not need to see to know she was there. He could hear her, feel her. He could not speak, but told her how much he missed her though his gentle touch. His head and the calmed visage of the abstraction connected harmlessly. Wordless saying, "I love you."

~~~

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! 👻🎃

[asgardianechoes]

Criminals

Loki x Reader

Prompt: ‘Let’s rob an ATM!’

Reader was a scammer before she/he joined the Avengers.

Summary: You ran out of money to buy merch of a new movie you got obsessed with and Loki, of course, comes up with an idea.

Word Count: 1.6k

Also, I headcannon that he has a pocket dimension and blue eyes.

You and Loki. The infamous troublemakers in New York. One of which had led an army against the world and the other had scammed thousands to hand over their money. Both of you had been taken in by the Avengers to atone for your sins and help Earth’s Mightiest Heroes to protect their planet against whatever threat that dared step foot on the land. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t play by the rules. You and Loki constantly tried to prank people or even each other, just for the fun of it. With Loki on your side, you could get away with anything. He’s the God of Mischief after all.

You viewed each other as friends, nothing more. Although your mind often pictured how it would be like if you were more than that. Sometimes it disappointed you that you couldn’t be closer, but that’s only a thought that seldom came to mind. This was, so far in your opinion, enough.

It was a sunny day when you took note of a new movie that came out. A few hours later, you were absolutely obsessed with it. Determined to stuff your room with merchandise of that movie, you went to your bank account, on which Stark put money into it monthly. Your excitement didn’t last long, though. Your account was empty because of the load of food you’d bought for the last movie night. Frustrated, you shut your laptop and went to sulk.

Of all the times I can run out of money, now has to be the time? You asked yourself, burying your face in your pillow for comfort. Asking Tony was a No-Go, he’s just gonna tell you to spend more wisely next time. Not gonna lie, you weren’t exactly fond of asking the Avengers for things. Due to the fact that you’re a scammer, they looked down at you, even if it’s just a little. Only some people truly accept you, like Natasha, Bruce, or Bucky, because they know what it’s like to be looked at like that.

Loki… You could of course ask him, but will he cooperate? He wasn’t one to give money, even if you were close. You remember the last time you asked him to buy you merch. Didn’t turn out well.

Why… you need to learn to spend less money like this, my dear friend, he said with his signature smirk. No matter how you pushed or prodded, he wouldn’t yield. His willpower, let’s say, is very strong.

Oh, fuck this, you thought, rising from your bed and fighting the swirling feeling in your skull. I’m gonna ask him and I’ll deal with it. Swinging the door shut behind you, you set off to Loki’s room.

Loki answered your hard, sharp knocks almost immediately. He was wearing a wool long-sleeve shirt along with some relax pants. He sure was getting used to Midgardian clothes fast…

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you. ‘Well, come in, Y/n,’ he said, opening the door wider so you could step in. You walked into his living room gingerly, as if a bomb might go off any second.

He snapped the door shut behind you. ‘Out with it,’ he smirked sharply. ‘What is it that troubles so that you must come to me?’

You took a deep breath before saying: ‘It’s nice to see you too, Loki.’ Taking a seat, you waited for him to also settle down, as if you were at a conference meeting.

He sat on the armchair opposite you, blue eyes never leaving yours. After a while, he asked: ‘Very well… what is it?’

You fidgeted with your fingers, looking at the coffee table separating you two, unsure of what to say. ‘Um… I kind of need your help,’ you tried shyly.

He tutted softly, nodding. ‘Yes, I noticed. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come.’

You rolled your eyes. Why can’t he learn to read minds? That’s definitely something he should put on his to-do list. ‘Well, you see…’ you started, ‘I found this really good movie… and… um…’

He raised his eyes to the heavens. You frowned, moving your head to the side. ‘What?’

‘I should have known.’ He answered. ‘Let me guess. You found a nice movie and now you want merch, correct?’ You nodded.

‘But… You don’t have the money to buy it.’ He continued. You nodded again.

‘And now,’ He paused dramatically, ‘you want me to help you buy it, am I right?’ He emphasized the last three syllables, smirking all the way. You nodded but didn’t bring your head back up.

‘But of course you’d come to me for that… Here’s all you need to know: No.’ He said with royal finality. You jumped up at this statement, kicking the coffee table along the way, staring at him in disbelief.

‘No?? What do you mean, no? Come on, you’re the only one I’ve got! Why can’t you-‘ you ranted, panicking but he broke you off, chuckling. By far too calm, he motioned for you to sit back down.

‘I was jesting, Y/n. I am not one to decline such an entertaining task, especially from you,’ he smiled. You sighed in relief, happy that you weren’t as helpless as you’d deemed yourself to be. Something warmed your heart as he said these words.

‘Although-,’ he began again, and your panic came back by far too fast. ‘Wait, there’s an “although”? Does that mean you can’t-‘ he made an ah-ah-ah look as he held up his finger to shut you up.

‘Let me finish. Norns, aren’t you sensitive today? I meant that we can’t be breaking into Stark’s account because that would ruin us completely. We should gain money another way. Now,’ he said, looking at you intensely so you wouldn’t retaliate, he continued: ‘we will not be achieving such  money through scamming because we would also be screwed if we do so. You can forget about using mine, I need that for books. So I was thinking…’ he paused dramatically again, ‘we could, with great care and precaution, rob an ATM machine.’

Your jaw dropped when he said this. Rob. A. Freaking. ATM machine? Was this guy for real? Like, no! We are not robbing a freaking ATM machine! You were starting to think that sulking in your room was better than trying to get money (FROM AN ATM MACHINE) for merchandise.

Loki noticed your nervous look and added quickly: ‘I promise we will not be found. Why so scared? We’ve done far worse than this.’

‘Yes but,’ you half wailed at him, ‘we’ve never done something illegal before… you know what? I’m just gonna sulk in my room and pretend this never happened. See you-‘

‘Hang on, hang on,’ he called after you, ‘what if I told you I’d get you a vinyl player?’

You stopped in your tracks. Oh my God does this guy know how to get you to do something. You turned back to him. ‘You’d buy me one?’

He smiled with unexpected affection. ‘With all the vinyls you’d like to have.’

‘Fine.’ You huffed before heading to the door again. Before you closed the door, you heard him call: ‘I’ll come get you around twelve – get ready for some excitement.’ You really hoped he was right.

You heard a knock at exactly midnight. Breathing heavily, you reached for the doorknob. The day had passed way to fast, and your nervousness was getting to you. The closer your hand got to the door, the faster your heart pounded in your chest. Gathering up your lost courage, you opened the door to reveal Loki, entirely clothed in black leather, standing in your doorway.

‘That took slightly longer than I’d usually expect from you,’ he commented, gesturing you to follow him out and into the hallway. He shut the door for you, and put his hand on the small of your back. Again, warm feeling glowed in you for no reason.

‘Loki,’ you said with an unusually stutter voice when you reached the front door, ‘maybe we shouldn’t… I mean, it’s illegal, after all…’ but he merely chuckled at your feeble attempt to ruin his plans for the night and led you away from the building and further towards the closest bank. Your heart pumped blood faster than ever, your body seemed to forget how to move. Loki’s arm led you, and you, to your own surprise, followed suit.

When you arrived at the bank, you were full-on regretting it, even if he offered a vinyl player. He noticed this and motioned for her to follow him into an alleyway next to the bank. Once you were both fully submerged in shadow, he spoke up.

‘I know that you’re nervous, but I swear, we will not get in trouble for this. I am not lying,’ he added, seeing that your nervous look didn’t leave. ‘But what if-?’ you retaliated.

‘I will change our looks and clothes so that even if we are seen, we’d be off their suspects list, alright?’ he asked encouragingly. Finally, you gave a little nod before letting his magic flow over your body, changing your appearance ad clothing.

Afterwards, you pulled on the door. Locked. You approved. Hopefully this will stop Loki- yeah no he went and magicked the lock to unlock itself… Loki pushed the door open, leading you inside the darkened room. Everything was going to plan… for now.

‘There’s our treasure,’ he said, pointing towards the line of ATMs. Hurrying you long, he stuck out his hand to cast another spell to unlock the ATM itself. Your breathing was shallow as you watched him do his thing, and soon enough stacks of money came to your eyes. You watched him load it all into a small green vortex that appeared in mid-air that opened to his pocket dimension. Once he finished, he looked up at you with triumph.

‘There. That should be enough for your merchandise.’

You nodded silently, turning to look aimlessly into the night. Out of the corner of your eye you say flashing lights. Cops. Holy shit are you screwed. You whipped around, scream-whispering to Loki: ‘Cops!’ His expression immediately changed as he looked over your shoulder. ‘Run,’ was all he said before grabbing you and tearing towards the back exit.

It didn’t take long before your legs started to burn. You’ve never been an athletic person and the sudden run took a toll on you. You were a scammer, not an Olympian athlete!

Loki noticed as fast as lightning and didn’t seem to come up with a better idea than to just carry you bridal style and run at top speed. You were unsure how he did it, you guessed it was because of his godly strength.

Those minutes passed in a blur. In no time you were back at the Avengers’ Headquarters, clawing at Loki’s leather shirt. He had removed the disguise along the way.

‘Did… did we lose them?’ you asked, putting in the code to enter the building. It buzzed loudly in the night, and you and Loki slipped in. The lights suddenly went on and caused you two to whip around, looking wildly for a threat. But instead of finding some bad guy, you found Natasha sitting at the desk with her feet on the edge of the table, staring at you with a knowing look. You were frozen in place. Nothing can pull you out of this one anymore.

Loki was the one who came to his senses first. He flicked his finger at her and looked her directly in the eye. ‘You did not see anything tonight.’

She smirked, rolling her eyes. ‘Nope, I didn’t. Also, I’m only doing this for Y/n’s sake, so don’t get your hopes up, Reindeer Games.’

Loki scoffed at her, with no offence, of course: ‘Whatever you say, you mewling quim.’

You watched silently as they had a staring contest. At some point, Natasha turned to you and said: ‘You might as well get to bed. You don’t want any of us knowing you went and did something bad with this guy.’

‘Yeah,’ you replied, relieved that she wasn’t exactly angry at you, ‘yeah, I’ll do that.’

And you rushed off back to your room, hoping that Loki keeps his part of the deal and brings over a vinyl player the next day.

ANYWAYS guys thanks for reading this!!

Taglist: @vbecker10 @simplyholl @mischiefmaker615 @lokisgoodgirl

Tell me if you want to be part of my taglist!

[witchywriter18]

Dating Young! Sirius Black and being a Hufflepuff

Hufflepuff will always be my preferred house to write the reader in since I am a Hufflepuff.

First, a bit of background

You're a muggleborn Hufflepuff and have been friends with Lily Evans since you were five. When you both found out you were magical, the two of you were so excited (despite Petunia's bitterness)

When it was finally time to go to Hogwarts, both you and Lily boarded the train with Severus (your mutual friend)

You first locked eyes with Sirius when waiting to be let into the Great Hall for sorting.

You were looking around the place in wonder when your (e/c) eyes met a pair of gray ones.

Sirius gave you a smile and small wave, which you returned, albeit more nervously than he did.

Love at first sight, not that either of you knew that yet because you both were 11 but you both felt something in that moment.

You were disappointed that you weren't sorted into the same house as Lily but you still ended up loving Hufflepuff.

Over the years, you had ended up growing close with the Marauders; especially Sirius.

The two of you started dating in 6th year with him taking you to Hogsmead.

Because I can't get enough of this troupe, yes, you do swap scarves in the winter. He doesn't have a reason other than he thinks you look adorable in his red and gold scarf.

Before you started dating, this big black dog would prance up to you when you were sitting under a tree by the lake, some flowers in its mouth.

Once the flowers were plopped into your lap (the stems slightly slobbery), the dog would just stare at you with the closest thing to a smile it could offer, tongue lolling to the side.

The dog would bask in your presence almost daily, tail wagging at the great ear scratches and belly rubs you gave.

It always seemed to shoot off when James, Remus, or Peter approached weirdly enough...

It wasn't until after you started dating that you found out that Sirius was the cuddly black dog you doted on in 5th year. He gave up the game when he noticed you had a few of the flowers pressed between the pages of your favorite book.

"You still have the flowers I gave you back before we dated?"

"What are you talking about? You never got me flowers before we started dating."

"Yes I did! Then we'd cuddle by the lake!"

" No we didn't! I got these flowers from a sweet dog. Who strangely enough I stopped seeing once we started dating- wait a second. You were the- *mouth gets covered*

"Well, that'll teach me to open my big mouth before speaking."

So Sirius explained that he, James, and Peter were animagai to help with Remus's monthly problem (after clearing it with the three of course)

You later asked Sirius to help you become an animagus so you could also help, which Sirius didn't like the idea of at first leading you two to have your first argument as a couple.

Sirius did NOT want his sweet Hufflepuff to get into trouble.

After lots of convincing (in the form of smooches, leaving many lipstick marks on his face), he finally agreed to helping you in being an animagus.

His least favorite part of the process was you having to keep the mandrake leaf on your tongue because that means he couldn't hear your voice as often (or shove his tongue down your throat-)

Your animagus ended up being a dog as well which upon further research, meant the you and Sirius were basically soulmates.

"Looks like you're going to be stuck with me for a looonnnggg time, love."

"Oh please, like you could get rid of me that easily."

I've run out of ideas for now so here ya go

[userparamore]

I get that you don’t like Taylor but can you not see paramores growth as band because of the eras tour they seem so happy to be on that stage every night be grateful for that

first of all i don't really understand why you're coming for me over post that isn't even mine. second of all i'm allowed to be a fan of a band and be critical of them at the same time, and i've expressed my disappointment over this since the tour was announced. i'm not gonna beat a dead horse and bring up why i'm critical of this tour again in this answer, but the act of them being on this tour really says a lot about them for me in a negative way, and i think it's hypocritical of them after preaching about sustainability and equal rights for all.

paramore is also not some small indie band no one has heard of. they've been doing this for 20 years, they've sold out big venues, played madison square garden multiple times, they played their biggest show ever on the this is why aus&nz tour with 26,283 tickets sold in sydney. multiple of their biggest songs on spotify is close to a billion streams and they have 21 million monthly listeners. all this growth they've done, they've done on their own- sure it's nice that more people discover them, but they didn't need this tour to be successful. they already were.

also for me personally, this tour leaves a bad taste in my mouth. i come from a country where if i'm lucky they tour once every album cycle. i've been lucky to see them 2 times and the last time was in 2017. they played a festival so i didn't get to see a full set. they've been to my country four times total and 1 concert wasn't a festival. the eras tour didn't have a show in my country, and i wasn't about to fight swifties for tickets that are extremely expensive. in the end my friend ended up having a spare ticket to one of the vienna shows bc the person they were originally gonna go with ended up not being able to go, and i was asked if i wanted to go. me and this friend first became friends bc we both liked paramore, and they've never been able to see them live. travelling to vienna to have that experience together, i would sit through 3h of taylor swift for. i spent close to 2000 dollars on the whole trip including the ticket, for it to end up being cancelled. very happy we didn't die, but it still sucked to have spent all that money and the not be able to go. especially since this would've been my friend's first paramore live experience.

i'm happy they're having fun playing their greatest hits for 3 months. i'm happy for my mutuals who's been able to go and have had a good time. the money they earn will probably go to their new label, and hopefully we won't have to wait 5 years for new music. but don't tell me to be grateful.

i try my best to make this community a welcoming space. i try my best to contribute with gifs and edits, and post news when there are news. i've hosted countdown events, i've hosted/made zines, i've hosted gif challenges. i want to do all these things bc it's fun to be part of this community and i love the friends i've made here. but i can still do all those things, and not have to kiss paramore's ass. i can still express myself and speak on the things i don't agree with bc it's my blog. we've had "debates" in my inbox before, people have expressed their opinions on paramore before, and it's always respectful which i appreciate. we as a community can disagree on things and still be a community.

[vampsickle]

mine. ☆ ( dmc5 ) dante

☆ tags - literally 0 plot, rough sex, unprotected, dubcon ? i think? idk, spanking!!, dante’s a little bit mean<3 hes a jealous guy.. use of petnames, afab reader !

☆ wc - 1.4k

☆ a/n - im a sucker for jealous men i wont even lie👍👍 um. thats all i have to say.

☆ synopsis - all you wanted to do was have a peaceful chat with vergil, but dante doesn’t see it that way. he decides to teach you a ‘lesson’.

Both you and Vergil shared a love for books and poetry. So it was no surprise that while Dante had been chatting away with Lady and Trish, you started up a conversation with Vergil over his taste in books and poetry. You didn’t like Vergil in that way. But it’s nice to get to know someone better and find a common interest, but unbeknownst to you— Dante had kept his eye on you the entire night, silently seething.

He’s always had issues with jealousy and has been rather possessive over you, but seeing you talking to his brother, smiling, even laughing, just pissed him off. Something inside of him was lit on fire. The glass of whiskey he held cracked, but no one noticed. You could hardly tell anything was wrong with the way he continued to smile and crack jokes. A part of Dante wanted you to notice him, to be with him, to hold his hand.

It was never your intention to make him jealous, in fact, you just wanted to enjoy your night.

Late into the night, everyone started to get ready to head home, Lady being the last one to leave. Vergil had left just before her, claiming he had ‘places to be’, but you doubted it. He wasn’t really a busy person, just.. A lonely person. Dante had thrown a magazine over his face, roughly throwing his feet up onto his desk, patiently waiting for Lady to leave.

“That was fun! Maybe we should invite them back again, it can be a monthly thing..”

Dante grunts in response, then he continues to sit there in silence, before blowing out a breath.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He doesn’t answer. You become increasingly annoyed, confused on what was wrong with him, but you ultimately drop it— Going to pick up all the glasses and dishes scattered around. It was instant, but you feel a wave of heat rush close to you, Dante’s hand holding your wrist. His grip is so tight that it starts to hurt, and you whine, attempting to pull away. He doesn’t have any of it, dragging you up to his bedroom, and pushing you back onto his bed, rather harshly.

“What— What the hell-?”

His arms are crossed over his chest, impatiently tapping one foot, blue eyes akin to glaciers boring into you. It’s like he wants you to apologize for doing something wrong. Your wrist still stings from his scathing grip, and you can’t bring yourself to look away from him, too nervous to try.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Your eyebrows knit together in visible confusion, cocking your head to one side, and Dante sighs. Like he’s disappointed.

“Did’ja have fun talking to Vergil all night?”

“So that’s what this is about? Come on, Dante.. You aren’t a child. I can’t talk to someone? What.. Are you jealous?”

You almost laugh when you say it, but he doesn’t think it’s funny at all. It’s ridiculous, truly. But you don’t laugh, or smile, you attempt to remain neutral. You almost bring up the fact that he was chatting with Lady and Trish, but he steps closer to you, pulling you back up so he can take a seat on the edge of the bed.

Now you’re bent over his knees, face shoved into the soft sheets, as he squeezes your ass. You exhale rather shakily, staying still as a board, and Dante rubs your smooth flesh with his calloused hand.

“Don’t forget who you belong to.”

“What the hell are you-“

He doesn’t even let you finish your sentence before bringing his hand down onto the supple flesh, and it burns so fucking bad that it makes you cry. Your toes curl in response as you bite down on the velvety sheets, and Dante spanks you again. Even though he’s angry with you, you’re beginning to drip, your panties sticking to your wet heat. It’s humiliating that you’re getting off to this punishment.

“I’m sorry, I won’t talk to—“

Dante smacks your ass again, and you choke on a sob, tears spilling down your warm cheeks. There’s no remorse in his eyes. You’re trembling already, embarrassed at how easily you give into him, how you obey him like a dog would obey it’s master. The pads of his index and middle finger slowly rub your slippery folds through your panties, distracting you from the stinging, and your body begins to slowly relax. But he won’t let you relax, ripping off your panties, and plunging his fingers deep inside you.

You were already so wet that they slipped in so quickly, reaching so far inside you, and you cry out. Dante spanks you repeatedly while pumping his fingers, it makes your heart race, and head spin. He keeps it up, not caring that his palm is beginning to sting from spanking you so much, and your ass has gone completely numb. You beg for him to stop with the relentless assault, but your pleas fall on deaf ears, and you shut up and take it. It’s a punishment after all.

But he lets up, finally, and you gasp when he gently rubs your ass— it still feels so tender. He’s knuckle deep inside your pussy, ears perking up at the obscene squelching noises, and he’s gnawing on his bottom lip.

Before you can cum, he pulls out of you. You hadn’t even announced it and he just knew.

“Dante— Please, please,”

“Please what?”

“Just— Just, fuck me already, I’m sorry,”

You look up to him with tears in your eyes, and they blur your vision so you can’t exactly tell what facial expression he has on, but you hear the unbuckling of his belt. Dante throws the rest of his clothing onto the floor, and pulls your shirt and bra off. Well, he doesn’t exactly pull them off, more like rips them off. More ruined clothing— How tragic.

He moves you so you’re on your back, and Dante pushes your legs open, staring at the slick that runs from your pussy down past your other hole, his cock standing proud.

He’s moving your limbs around aggressively, shoving your legs up that your knees are almost touching your shoulders, and you mewl when you feel his cock rub against your swollen pussy. Even when he’s rough like this, it makes you feel wanted— Deep down, you like when he’s jealous, that even if other people flirt with him, his eyes are still always on you. Dante muffles your near scream when he slams inside you, keeping you in a mating press, his lips smashing against yours. More tears spill down your flushed cheeks, his cock head hitting your cervix, and you know it’s going to bruise. It should hurt, of course, but it feels so good.

“Dante—! It’s so— So good— Oh,”

You gasp, his large hands taking ahold of the back of your knees, pushing your legs back even further. It stings, the stretch, but you keep singing for him regardless. His pace is absolutely brutal, so rough, and even when he’s jackhammering into you— he still knows the spot he needs to hit to make you see stars.

His teeth brush against your shoulder, before digging in, drawing blood. That painful feeling blends together with the pleasure you’re feeling that you practically squirt around him, crying out his name, and he lets out an animalistic growl against the wound he left.

“You’re mine.”

“Yes-! Yes— I’m yours-“

That’s all he needed to hear from you, his thrusts becoming sloppy, but he pushes himself in as deep as he can go, moaning out against your neck as he cums inside you. It’s so fucking much that it’s leaking out of you, staining the sheets, and you’re both a mess. The both of you are panting, and it takes Dante a moment to regain his composure, slowly pulling out. But he makes sure to shove any stray cum back inside you, making you feel stuffed, and you whimper weakly.

“Good girl.. Damn… Took my load so well,”

You blush at his words, a surge of pride rushing through you, and Dante gently picks you up. You melt into his embrace, listening to the beat of his heart, pressing tender kisses to his chest.

“Wanna take a bath, princess?”

All you can do is nod in response, as your throat still stings, and Dante chuckles quietly. He knows he’ll have to make this up to you somehow.

[mcu-binge]

Love in Brooklyn pt 12

The days stretched into weeks, and with no word from Steve, a dull ache had started to settle in my chest. I'd tried to keep myself busy with the bakery, and I'd even taken on a few new custom orders, but there was always this nagging feeling of absence.

In the mornings, as I walked up to the bakery a big part of me was hopeful that I'd see Steve there leaning on my door waiting for me with coffee and day after day week after week I'd feel the same disappointment of not seeing him there. I'd push open the bakery doors, inhaling the familiar smell of flour and sugar mixing with the scent of fresh coffee. It was the one thing that grounded me, my small world of ovens, recipes, and loyal customers who knew nothing about the man who'd crept his way into my life. But even here, I couldn't shake the way his absence hovered like a shadow, following me from the kitchen to the register.

"Dani," called Rosa, one of the bakers who'd been with me from the start. "You okay? You've been staring at that croissant dough for five minutes."

I blinked, looking down at the dough I'd been absently kneading. "Oh, yeah. Just thinking," I said, managing a smile. Rosa gave me a sympathetic look, and I could see the question she wanted to ask.

She'd heard me talk about Steve in passing, but it was always vague—the kind of talk that didn't reveal too much. Still, she knew enough to see that something was on my mind.

"Let me handle the croissants," she said gently. "Why don't you take a minute? You've been on your feet all morning."

I considered protesting, but exhaustion won out. "Alright, you're a lifesaver," I said, stepping aside.

With my hands free, I headed to the back office. I sat down at my desk, glancing at my phone for the tenth time that day. No messages. No calls. I tossed it aside, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Part of me felt foolish for waiting, especially when he'd given me no timeline. And yet, another part of me couldn't let it go. I didn't want to become someone who lived their life around a person who might never come back. But, like clockwork, I found myself glancing at the door every morning, half expecting him to walk in with that quiet smile of his.

Get it together, Dani, I thought, running my fingers through my hair. I grabbed a piece of paper and began scribbling down a new recipe, something with a fall theme. Maple pecan muffins, maybe with a bit of bourbon glaze? Anything to keep my mind from wandering back to the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

A couple of hours later, the bakery was full of customers, and I threw myself into the flow of things. I exchanged quick smiles, handed out pastries, and listened to customers gush over their morning coffee as they strolled out the door. It was like muscle memory, the ease of handling orders and keeping things running smoothly. But deep down, the silence still lingered.

Just when I thought I'd gotten a handle on it, Sofia walked in, a wide smile spreading across her face as she held up a magazine. "It's out! Look at this!" she practically squealed, holding it out for me.

I looked down, seeing my own pastries on the cover of Local Eats Monthly, glistening under perfect lighting. My heart skipped a beat as I skimmed the feature, filled with descriptions of the bakery and praise for our recent seasonal creations.

"Oh my God, Sofia," I said, laughing with genuine surprise. "I can't believe this is real."

"You should be so proud! First the Gourmet Gazette now this? Do you realize how much business this is going to bring you?" Sofia beamed, giving me a squeeze.

"Look around," I said motioning to the sea of customers. "Thanks for doing our PR." Honestly after that Stark event I had to get Sofias help.

I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. This magazine feature was huge for the bakery, something I'd been working toward since I started. But still, a small part of me wanted to share this moment with someone who wasn't here.

"Thanks, Sof," I said, giving her a quick hug. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Well, that's what friends are for," she replied, her voice softening as she looked at me knowingly. "And don't think I haven't noticed that you're not yourself lately."

I sighed, glancing around the bakery. "It's just... everything with Steve. He said he'd be back, but it's been weeks now."

Sofia reached out, giving my hand a squeeze. "Hey, maybe he's got a good reason. It's not like he can just send a postcard from... wherever it is he's fighting supervillains."

I chuckled, appreciating her attempt to lighten my mood. "Yeah, maybe."

But as I watched her leave, the uncertainty crept back in. There was no way of knowing if he'd come back—or if he even wanted to.

---

The rest of the day felt long and stretched out, "Dani, you've been at this all day," Rosa's voice cut through my concentration. She nudged my shoulder, pulling me out of my baking zone. "It's time for a break, mija. You've done enough."

I dusted my flour-covered hands off on my apron. "I'm fine, really," I replied, glancing at the clock and realizing how much time had slipped by.

"Go home," Rosa insisted, giving me a warm but firm look. "You need rest, and the bakery can run without you for a night."

After some gentle protests, I finally gave in. "Alright, fine," I said, rolling my eyes but grateful for the push. I took off my apron, said goodbye, and headed home. I had a shower and dressed in my fluffy shorts and a loose fitting crop top. I was just about to sit down with a book when there was a knock at my door. It must be a mistake nobody even buzzed me. I opened door and my jaw dropped. I found Bucky Barnes, casually leaning against the frame.

"James?" I said, startled.

He grinned. "Caught you off guard, didn't I?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in. Thought I'd make sure you were surviving the wait," he said, stepping inside as I motioned for him to come in. He got a haircut, I could tease him about this later.

He looked around, his gaze taking in the cozy surroundings. "Nice place," he commented, looking genuinely impressed. "Way homier than the tower."

I chuckled, gesturing to the couch. "Want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot."

"Sure," he said, easing onto the couch as if he'd been here a hundred times before.

I handed him a mug and settled in across from him. "So... any news?" I asked carefully, hoping he'd have some kind of update.

Bucky shook his head. "Not much. Missions like this can be tricky."

He took the cup from me, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Dani, you make one hell of a cup. I figured Steve was exaggerating, but turns out he wasn't."

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Oh, so he talks about my coffee?"

"More than you'd believe," he said, and his gaze slid over me, pausing a little too long on my exposed mid section before he gave me a lazy grin. "Actually, I was surprised he'd left a catch like you sitting here all alone."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the slight blush creeping up. "Oh, please, you and I both know Steve has way too much patience for his own good."

"Patience? I think he's just a little slow." Bucky leaned in, his smirk widening. "You know, Steve might be a saint, but I'm not. And if he keeps dragging his feet, maybe I'll step in."

I felt a laugh bubble up, enjoying the banter. "Awfully bold of you, Barnes. Just don't expect me to fall for the 'strong, silent type' routine. I like a challenge."

"Challenge?" he scoffed, looking delighted. "Dani, sweetheart, I invented the challenge."

"Oh yeah?" I shot back. "So what's your go-to line, then?"

Bucky didn't miss a beat. "Well, usually I don't need one. The arm does most of the talking." He shrugged out of his jacket just then, letting the metal gleam in my lights.

I pretended to study it with exaggerated interest, then shrugged. "Hmm. Not bad, I guess. It does add a certain...shine."

Bucky laughed, looking genuinely amused. "I'll give you this—you're not an easy one to crack. And trust me, I've met my fair share."

"Are you flirting with me, James?" I asked, tilting my head and doing my best to look innocent.

He grinned. "Only if it's working."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'll admit, you've got the charm thing down. But if you're here to try and win me over, you've got a hell of a competition."

"Oh, I know. And I'm not exactly subtle." He leaned in, lowering his voice, "One things for sure : Steve's right. You're a spitfire."

He paused, his gaze serious for a moment. "Honestly, Dani. I can see what Steve sees in you."

There was a softness in his tone, a kind of respect that made me feel a little more grounded. "Thanks, Bucky," I said, genuinely touched. "But for the record, I'm not looking for a replacement."

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, fair's fair. But if you change your mind..." He gave me a mischievous wink.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Oh, I'll keep it in mind. But I don't fall for just anyone, it's gonna take more than a shiny arm and a smooth talker."

He chuckled, tipping his mug to me. "Noted. Just remember—if that punk keeps you waiting too long, you've got options."

His gaze was direct, challenging, and for a moment, the air between us shifted. Bucky was good-looking, and he knew how to lay on the charm, but I wasn't about to let him see me flustered.

"So, is this how you spend your time?" I teased. "Hitting on your friend's girl?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Just trying to make sure Steve isn't taking you for granted."

"Good to know he's got his wingman doing quality control," I replied, sipping my own coffee and giving him a pointed look.

Despite all the flirting, there was a genuine warmth to him, like he was really looking out for me.

I watched as Bucky sprawled across my couch, looking way too comfortable for someone who'd just invited himself over. His arm was stretched along the back of the sofa, and he was watching me with that signature smirk of his.

"You know," I said, crossing my arms and giving him my best unimpressed look, "Since you decided to invite yourself it's not going to be just to lounge around."

Bucky grinned, completely unfazed. "Oh, so now you're putting me to work?"

"Absolutely." I motioned toward the kitchen, trying not to smile. "Go wash your hands, Barnes. You're helping me make dinner."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, standing up and giving me a mock salute as he sauntered over to the sink. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped.

I started pulling ingredients from the fridge, and soon enough, I heard the water turn off and Bucky's footsteps as he joined me in the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves with a grin.

"Alright, Chef," he said, leaning in just a little too close, his voice dropping to a whisper, "what's the plan?"

I handed him a cutting board and some vegetables. "Think you can handle chopping these?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Chopping? You're putting my talents to waste here."

I nudged him playfully. "Let's start small, big shot. Show me those skills you keep bragging about."

To my surprise, he started chopping, and he was actually pretty good. We worked side by side, our elbows bumping now and then as we moved around each other. Each time, he'd throw me this look that made my heart beat just a little faster, but I did my best to ignore it.

"So, what does a guy like you usually eat?" I asked, stirring a pot on the stove.

"Me?" He smirked, glancing over. "Oh, you know. A perfectly balanced meal of takeout and... whatever's in the Avengers Tower fridge."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Why am I not surprised?"

"But hey," he continued with a grin, "I'm open to learning from the best. Got any tips, Chef?"

I gave him a mock-serious look. "Rule number one: taste everything as you go. Here." I held out a spoon with a bit of sauce, bringing it close to his lips.

Bucky leaned in, tasting it with an exaggerated "mmm" and a wink. "Alright, I'll admit—you know what you're doing. Got any other rules?"

"Yeah, rule number two: try not to burn anything."

"Please, I don't burn," he said confidently, tossing me a flirty look. "Just adding a little... heat."

"Oh, is that right?" I laughed, shaking my head at his ridiculousness.

We continued cooking, the banter flowing easily between us. At one point, he leaned in a little too close, his arm brushing against mine as he reached for the salt, and the touch sent a small thrill through me that I tried my best to ignore.

"Admit it," he said quietly, his voice just a bit lower, that glint of mischief in his eyes. "You're enjoying my company."

I looked up at him, our faces just inches apart. "Maybe I am," I replied, just as quietly. "But don't let it go to your head."

His eyes sparkled with amusement, but he took a half-step back, grabbing the pepper instead, leaving the moment lingering between us. We fell back into the rhythm of cooking, laughter filling the kitchen along with the warm, savory smells from the stove. It felt... nice, easy, like we'd done this a hundred times before.

After we finished cooking, Bucky and I set the plates on my small dining table. The kitchen smelled amazing, filled with the warmth of spices and roasted veggies. It felt cozy, almost like we'd done this a dozen times before. He settled into the seat across from me, taking in the spread with a nod of approval.

"This actually looks... pretty impressive," he admitted, a bit of a surprised smile playing at his lips.

I smirked, pouring us each a glass of water. "Was there any doubt?"

He chuckled, taking his first bite and savoring it for a moment. "Alright, I'll admit—you know what you're doing."

We began to eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before I broke it, asking, "So, James Barnes... what's something most people don't know about you?"

He glanced up, clearly surprised by the question, but after a second, he gave a half-smile. "Oh, so we're getting serious now?"

I shrugged, swirling my fork through my pasta. "Just curious. You don't give off the open-book vibe."

He laughed softly. "Fair. I guess... most people don't know I actually loved to draw when I was younger. Art class was one of my favorite parts of school."

That caught me off guard. "Wait, really? I wouldn't have pegged you as an artist."

"Yeah," he said, a little nostalgic. "I was pretty good, too. Used to draw sketches of people in cafes, parks... New York was a good place for that kind of thing back in the day."

I could see the wistfulness in his eyes, the way his mind drifted back to a different time. "You still draw?"

He looked down, shaking his head. "Not as much. Sometimes it feels like... that was a different guy. You know?"

I nodded, understanding more than I expected. "Yeah, I get it. Sometimes parts of us feel like they belong to a different version of ourselves, someone we left behind."

He looked at me with a curiosity that seemed almost unexpected. "What about you? Anything you used to do that's kind of... faded?"

I hesitated, twirling my fork. "I used to sing for fun at least. Nothing professional, just... around the house. My mom loved it." I chuckled, a little embarrassed. "It was our thing, I guess. But life happened, and it felt silly to keep up in the midst of all the growing up I had to do in a short amount of time."

Bucky's eyes softened, and he leaned forward slightly. "I don't think that's silly at all. There's something about holding onto those pieces of ourselves that keeps us... grounded. Maybe even reminds us of who we are."

I glanced down at my plate, feeling strangely seen. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's easy to let things slip away without even noticing."

He gave a thoughtful nod, as though considering his own answer. "Exactly. Sometimes it feels like those little things are all we have to remind us of... I don't know, the parts of us that are still ours."

I smiled at him, feeling a warm connection I hadn't expected. "You're pretty insightful, you know that?"

He shrugged, the faintest blush rising to his cheeks. "Guess it comes with being around for so long. You pick up a thing or two."

We shared a smile, and for a moment, there was a quietness between us that felt more like understanding than silence.

"So," he said, breaking the tension with a playful grin, "next time we cook, you're singing, and I'm drawing."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Deal. But only if you promise not to laugh."

"Oh, I'd never laugh," he replied, voice full of mock innocence. "But I can't promise I won't draw you while you're singing."

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. "Fine, but don't make me look like a cartoon character."

His smile softened, and he looked at me with a warmth that reached his eyes. "I couldn't make you look like a cartoon even if I tried."

I felt my face heat up, surprised at how much his words affected me. We continued eating, the conversation weaving between deep memories and light-hearted banter, every exchange feeling like one step closer to understanding each other.

"So I gotta ask," I started getting his attention

"Hmmm?" He softly asks

"What's up with the haircut?" I teased, a sly smile slipping onto my face. "Going for the mysterious, 'I woke up looking this good' vibe?"

He raised an eyebrow, instantly smirking back. "You saying it doesn't work?"

"Oh, it works," I admitted, letting my eyes linger longer. "I mean, it's giving a little 'bad boy with a soft side,' you know?" I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. "I'm sure that's the plan, though, right? Just part of the Bucky charm."

He chuckled, leaning in to match my level. "And here I thought I was flying under the radar," he murmured. "Guess I'll have to work harder on my subtlety."

I bit back a grin, shrugging. "Nah, wouldn't want you to hide all that from the world. It's good to be memorable."

"Memorable, huh?" His smile turned a little softer, his gaze holding mine. "Well, if it's working on you, I must be doing something right."

My smile grew as I tilted my head, holding back a laugh. "Oh, you're doing a lot right. Don't let it get to your head, though," I teased.

"Noted," he replied, still grinning. "Guess I'll just have to keep my cool."

"Oh, keep your cool?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "James, if this is you being cool, I'm curious to see what it's like when you're actually trying."

He leaned back, giving me a look that was equal parts challenge and amusement. "Careful," he said, his voice dropping just a bit, "keep talking like that, and I might start trying."

I let out a laugh, shaking my head as I looked away. "Guess I'll have to brace myself."

He chuckled, his teasing glint softening a bit. "Alright, alright," he said, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'll take it easy on you. Don't want to scare you off, especially when I'm winning you over one compliment at a time."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. "In your dreams, Barnes."

He smiled back, genuine this time. "Fair enough. Steve's a good man."

The mention of Steve brought a warm feeling with it, grounding me. "Yeah," I nodded, a small smile lingering. "He really is."

Bucky held my gaze, a flicker of something respectful and knowing in his eyes. "Then he's a lucky man, Dani. That's all I'll say."

With that, we let the banter rest, our unspoken understanding filling the space. It was a reminder of the lines we wouldn't cross and of the loyalty that connected us all. We could joke and tease, but there was a respect there, a boundary we both honored—one we both knew was worth holding onto.

As the night wrapped up, Bucky stood by the door, glancing back at me with a relaxed smile. "Thanks for the dinner, Dani. I needed a night like this."

I crossed my arms, smirking. "Anytime you want invite yourself in."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Noted." Then he took a step closer, his arms opening in an unspoken invitation. "Come here."

I hesitated for a second before moving forward, letting him pull me into a hug. His embrace was warm and solid, surprisingly comforting.

"Take care of yourself, alright?" he murmured, his voice low against my hair. "And don't let that bakery run you ragged."

I smiled, pulling back just enough to look at him. "Same goes for you. And...watch Steve's back for me."

His eyes softened. "Always."

With one last look, Bucky gave me a small, reassuring smile before stepping out the door. As I closed it behind him, I felt a renewed warmth and reassurance that lingered, reminding me of the connections that made waiting for Steve just a little easier.