#there was literally no danger of him staying locked up

[quillkiller]

having so many university au rosier twins thoughts

[screampied]

𝜗𝜚 LIKE THIS P☆SSY DESIGNED FOR YA !?

☆ sum. you’re supposed to hate him and yet here he is talking you through yet another órgasm. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, choso.

warnings. fem! reader, exes trope, hate / make up séx, possessiveness, unprotected, dirty talk, manhandling, semi-public, toji slander, bréeding, praise, fīngering, feral whipped men, squīrting, breath play, cunnīlingus, edging, overstim.

☆ SUGURU GETO.

“sit on it.”

he didn’t have to tell you twice—because you lost the battle of temptation the second you found yourself hovering over your ex’s face. his pretty face, he’s got that same smug grin that curls against his lips with a few dimples prodding near each side of his cheeks. hooded sly eyes glance at your sopping cunt that’s dripping right through your panties and he leans back against the bed.

“c’mere, you,” and you moan once his hands leisurely drag your hips down toward his spit slick lips. geto was never one to apologize—but even if he did, instead of using words, he’d let his tongue do the talking. with his teeth, he peels your panties to the side. like always, he couldn’t stay away from you as much as you couldn’t stay away from him. you hated it, you swore you hated him and yet he’d make those feelings vanish the second his tongue’s swirling around your cunt, reminding you how hungry he was.

how hungry he was for you.

it would always be like this - after every argument, the outcome would always end up with geto between your thighs.

sure, he’d say sorry. . after his tongue’s buried inside of your cunt.

“fuuuck,” he’d grunt, laid back as his hair was all sprawled out against the sheets. geto’s voice was dangerously deep and raspy. each time he spoke, his words would vibrate against your pulsating wet pussy - his favorite meal. he could eat you out for hours until his jaw tightened and locked. the literal definition of a pussy pleaser . .

“aw, she’s missed me so fuckin’ bad,” he’d whisper in a gruff tone, dipping his pointed tongue in and out of your folds. your folds were all soddened - sopping wet and dripping like a faucet. he groans, feeling your candied juices stream down from the opening part of your clit as you throbbed in his mouth. he was slurping you clean, relishing in your sweetened fervor that ruts against his slick mouth and chin. “yeah, i know. i know,” and as you whimper with pursed quivering lips, geto lolls out his tongue allllll the way, plunging it deeper inside of your convulsing cunt. with a smug grin flattening against the edges of his lips, he licks a long stripe from top to bottom, tasting all of you. your sweet slick fully paints against the lower part of his chin until it runs down the crevices of his lips, and he moans at how sweet you tasted.

he was so messy and unapologetically so—you’ve got your knees bucked toward the sides of his head whilst you’re unsteadily grinding into his mouth. “sugu, fuck,” you’d moan, letting off a following of sweet cacophonies of ‘ooh's’ and ‘ah's’ each time his tongue slithers toward your puckering hole then back towards your needy cunt. a pretty glistening fall of water dribbles down the inner sides of your thighs and he laps it straight up as thin brows of his curve into a fixated furrow. “we didn’t even finish t- the conversation.”

“later,” he purrs in a rough hoarse tone, silencing your babbles the second his teeth playfully nibble towards your clit. you whine, feeling your weak knees on the verge of collapsing before he spat on the entrance of your folds. sloshes spurt away from your soaked cunt as you’re making a mess on his face, feeling that familiar pressure arises within the lower part of your tummy. it’s like someone was pressing down on your stomach, a wave that was preparing to crash and cause havoc. it felt so good, it was impossible to miss geto’s tongue. whenever he ate you out, he’d always eat you out like a starved man—like your sweet pussy was the last meal available on earth, and he did it with no shame.

as your hips continue to thrust sloppily against his mouth, a sleazy grin goes against his lips and he holds your thighs firmly in place, whistling against your slobbering folds. “mhm, that’s it. atta girl, less talkin’ more ridin’ this face.”

as you paw a hand through his thin tangeled tresses of hair that run through your clammy fingers—you whimper once his tongue reaches a certain spot inside of your pussy that scratches a lustful itch in your brain. “fuck!” you whine out, your hip speeding accelerating quicker. you continue to ride his face, nearly suffocating him with how your thighs had him in such a secure lock - to which he loved it, and it’s up onto the point where you end up cumming hard.

you’re gnawing on your lip once you end up finally releasing, swerving your ass against his face and feeling him slurp your entire high clean. even still, geto’s got the priggish grin plastered on his lips whilst he’s laid underneath you, two big hands glued to each sides of your thighs.

“atta fuckin’ girlll,” he’d repeat in a teasing hum, his tongue creating a slimy trail from the back part of your cunt until it reaches the tender bulb part of your clit. he sucks against it, toying with your puffy hood with his tongue before he feels you spasming on his mouth. so sweet, his long lashes flutter shut and he’s holding you tight so you stay still. “good, jus’ like old times.”

and as you’re panting, he departs his slick lips before dragging a thumb down your throbbing clit. very slowly, slippery long strands of your own juices coat his fingertip before he gives your pussy a single sloppy kiss. “now, you were sayin?”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“f- fuck you.”

“yeah girl, i’m trying,” toji snarls, using two big hands to reel you back into his sharp churlish hips.

you moan, slamming back down on his thick cock after each mouthwatering thrust. toji would be having you in doggy, spread out on all fours, arched over for him and all. it’s fat, his tip mashes through your walls and french kisses deeply against your g-spot, coating it with dozens of slick smooches. toji’s enormous girth rams through your cunt, giving it a reminder of just how much he’s missed you and it makes your toes curl every time. you could never forget that curve of his—the curve where once he dips his hips a certain way, he’s plowing his thick cock into you so deep that it makes a shiver run down your spine. he makes you feel it all, and once you grow quiet his ego gets fed a good sum.

“fuuuck, that’s it. shut that pretty mouth up ‘n take this shit,” and you whimper, feeling him claw a rough hand through your scalp. it’s a soft tug, but your head pulls back nonetheless as he’s drilling into you mercilessly.

he’s fast, toji’s got the hips of a maddened madman.

and he was always not the best whenever it came to feelings but he loved you - still.

you’re always on his mind, no matter how many rebounds—he still saw your pretty face at the end of the day. tasting you, feeling you from the inside, you had him whipped and it fucking annoyed him.

“ngh, tojiiii,” you whimper, gasping at the immense loose barrage he makes with his stocky shaft. the stretch always leaves you speechless as a plethora of inaudible babbles perish out from the back of your throat. his sack hangs loose as he fucks into you raw. a soddened slimy ring forms around his base from your wet cunt slapping back against him and he clenched his teeth, watching the fat of your ass slam back against his chiseled pelvis. “right there, right fuckin’ there toji.”

“don’t tell me how ‘ta fuck,” he gruffs, and with one mean perfunctory thrust — you let off a screaming moan, tearing your chords before a sheepish giggle follows. the dark haired man rolls his eyes, giving your ass a teasing smack. “such a nasty ‘lil bitch. forgot how much this shit turns you on.”

the bed continues to dip from the constant masses of weight slamming onto the cushions before you feel it gradually falling forward. your crossed eyes found themselves flickering back to the outer voids of your skull as you claw at the bawled up sheets. “fuck, fuck you. broke bitch.”

“girl please. let’s not even,” he pauses, smacking his lips. always so sassy. you moan once his swollen tip stills itself inside of you and you pout, not being fond of how he’d randomly stop just to mess with you. cool air sets against your skin as your back remains arched and toji swats another hand toward your ass. smack! the sting makes your body jolt in depleting rapture and you coo out a soft ‘ah’ with your lips parting.

he grunts once he ogles down at your sloppy cunt, puffed lips and aching clit. leisurely, he pulls out before bringing a fat thumb towards your entrance, maneuvering a few teasing circles. “you still let this broke bitch fuck again, so now what?”

silence was your answer — but a moan shortly follows and you eat your words, your left cheek shoved against the mattress. “f- fuck y-”

“stop talking over your pussy. have some class, baby,” and you whimper, feeling his swelling tip rub against the back of your clit. you’re drooling wet, it’s almost embarrassing and he could feel your body shaking - more, you wanted more.

toji always did this, stop fucking you in the middle just to play with you and make you squirm for him to continue. bastard. once the room shifts into utter silence, his cockhead bangs against your cunt without warning and it’s a loud sloppy ‘smack!’ that gives you whiplash from the spine down. “good girl. ‘s all i wanna hear. pretty squelches all for me, mhm.”

he continues to toy with your cunt before he leans down, spitting near the slit opening entrance whilst his scarred lips carve into a pout. “lotta talk for a pussy this fuckin’ wet,” he hears you starting to protest but your words only come out in inaudible babbles. once you try to sit up, he lightly pushes you back into the bed, having you slump forward with a soft ‘oof.’

toji grunts, feeling his heavy cock tighten up at the sight of your exposed sopping cunt seeping from the folds before he aligns his angered tip once more. “lie back, little girl. we’re far from finished,” and he spanks your cunt, sloshing soddened spurts of your own slick plopping onto his palm. “isn’t that right, gorgeous?”

and his eyes avert towards your cunt - not you. “yeah, thought so.”

☆ CHOSO KAMO.

choso can’t live without you - he’s an entire mess the second you let him fuck you for ‘one last time.’

has you in a mating press because he insists on seeing your pretty face, doesn’t care if he’s tearing up mid thrust either because he’s missed you so so bad. “you’re so pretty,” he’d moan, pumping his cock into you slowly. each thrust reminded you of the times you both spent together . . the memories, why you and him even split in the first place. choso grunts, continuously bruising your cervix with his fat tip over and over. as you’re laid on your back, your arms wrap around his broad shoulders and he flashes you a cheeky needy smile and darkened circles under his eyes. “have i told you how pretty you look right now, baby?”

“probably over ten times, ‘cho,” you’d sheepishly say, blissful moans sliding past your lips. your cunt’s grip against was purely enticing - it always was. he was forevermore addicted to the way you held onto him tight, squeezing down on him like a vice. you drag a few fingers down his undercut and he lets off a humming purr, leaning into your touch. “fuck, don’t stop, baby. keep goin, mhm.”

“missed you so bad,” he’d whine, burying his face into the crook of your neck. choso moans from the alluring scent of your perfume alone, almost tasting you in his mouth. so sweet, so so sweet and he wanted more. his perfectly sculptured body that rocked into yours started to get more sloppy with its movements. he’s passionate with his thrusts, and he knew like always he wasn’t gonna last long. he never did, not with you. choso’s slim body ruts into you, steadily grinding into your own before he starts to suck on your neck. “mpmh. ‘s been torture without you, you know. had such . . strange dreams.”

with a soft simper, you cup his flushed face, a thumb stroking against the right side of his cheek. “wet dreams, choso?”

“y- yeah,” he swallows thickly, growing embarrassed. wet dreams, that explained why whenever he’d wake up in a good mood after having erotic dreams about you—he felt so hard, so . . aroused. his cock’s aching for more, and his bulbous pink tip continues to rummage through your insides until it inspects through every spot. each ‘pop’ your cunt makes ring through your ears and he sucks his teeth at the realization of just how wet you are. “had a dream we heh, got back together. settled down, started a f . . family.”

your heart races at his words, and choso’s deeply staring into your eyes, getting lost in your tender gaze. gentle darkened irises of his dilate as he gawks at you and oh, he’s so in love. his heart thumps quicker in his chest as he pistons his hips. the punctuation of his hips grow more exclamatory with each slam against your cunt. he’s rough, but gentle at the same time - sloppy more than anything. “a family, huh?” and he can’t help but whine, hearing the words slide past your glossed lips with such simplicity.

he gives you a nod, kissing near the corner of your twitching mouth. “a baby or two,” he moans, his speed starting to get more relentless. he’s thick, his length resumes to curve and and meander through your walls, leaving it’s very mark and your legs wrap around his slim waist. as he speaks, he’s staring to paint the exact picture of a future he wants into your brain and his. “or maybe five. you’d look pretty with a plump swollen belly,” and he kisses your quivering bottom lip, this time leaning down to suck on your chin. “mhm, i just wanna make you a pretty wife. my pretty wife, ‘s what ‘m basically saying.”

as the two of you both moan in unision, you plant a wet chaste kiss on his lips. choso groans, slowly pumping more inches in and out of your sloppy cunt before leaning into your grasp. your hips were just as greedy as his were, if not more. “let’s do it then,” you’d whisper between kisses, glossed strands of saliva entangling with each other, creating viscid cobwebs. “make me your pretty wife, ‘cho. gimme a baby.”

choso’s eyes widen to the size of saucers before his thrusts slow - deep but deadly.

he’s very slow with his movements, making sure you feel every single inch, every single vein that prods down his fat cock. “okay,” he shakily says, his ears twitching at your sweet words. he’s still pressing his weight against you, feeling his piles of sweat glue against your own body and he leans in one more time, pressing a long wet kiss on your lips. he’s cutely shaking from your touch once your hands run down his back, pulling him closer. he’s fucking you deeply but at a much more romantic sweet pace. “ugh,” his eyes roll back in rapture, and he can feel himself preparing to give you the filling he’s been oh so desperately waiting for. choso grips your chin, smearing a thumb over your lips before whimpering against your lips.

“ ‘m gonna make you the prettiest mommy. promise.”

☆ NANAMI KENTO.

never in a million years would you have thought you’d be in a predicament like this—arched over an office desk with your husband, ex-husband directly behind you. he’s fucking sense back into you, giving you a simple reminder of how good you had it all with the thoroughly deep hits of his cock.

“s- sweetheart,” he’d groan, repeatedly tapping his swollen crown against your most sweetest spots. it leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth, and you’re just casually being fucked into the unsigned divorced papers. your visions clouded, all your glossed eyes were met with was the scribbles of writing and multiple lines that ran across that papers. the wood creaks and groans at the pounds of pressure slamming back and forth into it. “god, i missed you,” he’d whisper, running a hand down your sensitive spine. he created a soft tapping trail with his fingers, continuing to plummet his weighty dick in and out of your pasty walls. “can never stay away from my wife.”

soft whimpers spew past the cracks of your lips as he continues to drill into you, repeatedly thrashing his leaky mushroom tip against your precious g-spot that makes you shrill louder. your moans ricochet off the walls of the spacious office and he lightly tugs on your blouse. “kento, ken—fuck,” you’d suck your teeth, feeling each hooked curve of his dick hunt through every part of your cunt. the loud clangs of his belt sing each time his halfway pulled down slacks hits against your ass. he’s missed you, you can tell by his thrusts and the way he’s running a hand down your body. “fuck me, fuck me ‘ken. please.”

“shhh,” he leans up close to you, pressing a smooth palm over your mouth. your moans grow muffled as he continues to drive his fat cock into your cunt, hearing your heels clank and tap against the slick wooden floor. “not so loud, wifey,” he purrs, and you moan once his tip reaches there. it doesn’t take long before his flushed crownhead’s smothering your cervix wholly with rich french kisses, making your legs shake. nanami feels you leaning into his touch with your ass pressed all the way into him. “as much as i love your sweet sounds, you wouldn’t want anyone else to hear them, would you?”

your answer was muffled so you give him a slow nod. nanami chuckles, a tear of sweat racing down the left side of his forehead. “no, silly. we don’t want that,” and he brings a kiss toward the nape of your neck, nibbling on your tender skin. he’s fucking you over the desk, ignoring the groans and creaks of the old wooden desk. “no one should be able to hear how—” and he pauses, slightly lifting up your leg to get a more thorough deeper angle. “… sloppy you sound, no one but me, sweetheart.”

nanami’s still buried balls deep—his swollen full base remains to smack against your ass, creating an unforgettable perspiring sting amongst skin. every time he’s inside—he falls in love right over again, he can’t help it. “ ‘m gonna cum. you’re gonna wring me dry like you always did, my love,” he grunts, his cock repeatedly kissing at that poor bullseye of a target that’s buried inside the deep depths of your cunt. tap tap tap, he’s hitting that same spongey spot to make you whimper out those desperate cries of his name. cobwebs of saliva souse all over his palm as his hand remains cupped over your mouth. the loud fax machine continues to spit out mechanic whimpers of its own in the background while you’re getting drilled into the divorce papers the two of you were ‘supposed’ to sign.

but fuck that.

“inside,” you whine, your lips moving on its own the second he pries his hand away. your pussy gripped him tightly, aching him badly. you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of him filling you up again, dumping such a hefty load that his mess would spill right down the plush crevices of your thighs. “don’t miss ‘ken, finish inside.”

“anything for the pretty wife,” he’d rasp, bringing two hands toward your rickety waist. as you’re arched over the cornered table—the moment finally comes where he finishes with three deep thrusts that vigorously punctuate against your cunt. you whimper, and within seconds he’s spraying out thickly stringy amounts. velvety ribbons of cum that pour into you sprays inside your womb deeply, oozing out your folds. nanami’s lips glue against your skin and you can hear him faintly whining into your neck. “fuck,” he whispers, and it’s rare to hear him curse, but when he does, it always made you throb - like now. his cock’s still shoved inside and he’s still giving you his anticipated fill before he pulls out, smearing his tip over your drooling cunt.

“so pretty,” he weakly says, caressing your ass with a free hand. nanami’s eyes scan toward the desk with scattered divorce papers and he sheepishly rubs his neck. the blond turns you around to face him and he cups your chin—lifting you up and making you sit on the edge of the table. “but,” and he presses a kiss near the side of your lip, a few thick fingers feeling against the sloppy mess that spills out of your pussy. “you’d look even prettier with a ring around your finger again,” and he licks your neck, hearing your breath hitch as he whispers against your skin.

“i’ve missed you, mrs. nanami,” and he lowers his head down to plant a kiss against your throbbing drenched clit. “and i’ve missed you especially.”

☆ SATORU GOJO.

satoru doesn’t even have to fuck you. his fingers always did the job more than anything. his long fingers that were so fucking long for no reason. doesn’t care what time it is at night, he’d whine to you at how much he misses your pussy - his pussy. but you’d constantly tell yourself one more time, one more time wouldn’t hurt . . right?

wrong,

because those ‘one more times’ turned into dozens of times where you’d find yourself pathetically gushing on his fingers if not his cock and tongue. “relaaax, angel,” he’d purr against your neck, having you lie flat against his back. you’re a whimpering mess, biting the inside of your cheek as you feel his slender thin fingers expand and shove all through the swollen layout of your pussy. sloshes of wet sobs ring through the insides of you and you whine, realizing just how wet you were. “i know, i know. i’d fuckin’ throb if i was this soaked too.”

“s- satoru,” you’d moan, a hand of yours tightly gripping onto his wrist. a thumb of yours brushes against a vein that runs down his arm and he kisses near your neck. breathy hot pants ghost down near your skin and your thighs violently shake, feeling his fingertips prod against a particular spongey texture. there, he’s located your g-spot and you let off that cooing ‘ooh!’ as your head collapses back into his bare chest with a loud thud.

his fingers, you’d never be able to wrap your head around on how long they were. so long, they create an unforgettable stretch that makes tears of sweat drip down the sides of your forehead. they curl and entwine their ways inside, scissoring themselves inside your cunt before thrusting in and out of you at a slow degrading pace. “fuck, ‘toru ‘m gonna cum. ‘s gonna make me cum quick.”

“such a mess,” he huffs, prying your jittery legs open more with a single hand. you moan, feeling something prick behind your back and you knew that had to be his rock hard bulge that rubbed off against his sweats. it was hard to mistaken it, you felt the outline of it press against your bare ass.

he was so hard, and it was always because of you. as satoru’s got two fingers diving in and out of your slobbering pussy, he snickers against your ear. “i bet any other guy that touches this cunt doesn’t have fingers as long as mine, huh.”

there goes his fucking ego again. .

you tried to roll your eyes but instead it ends up making you create a lewd expression. his thin fingertips reach deep, and you’re slathering down both twin digits fully with such slippery sap.

“fuckk y- you,” you hiss out, grabbing his wrist to go faster. a throaty chortle leaves from his lips before his fingers start to twist inside of your sweet cunt even faster. “toru, satoru ngh!”

once his lengthy middle finger taps against there, your mind goes completely blank. you let off a squealing sob, your head thumping back against his chest once you gush right out yet again.

it was so abrupt. . there was barely any buildup, it just happened. you’re shivering as his fingers continue to crimp themselves inside of you, hearing your own pussy squelch out such carnal moans of its own. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper in broken cries, feeling your chest sink inward. the ivory-white sheets were now soaking up with a translucent colour as you release, biting his name within each syllable on your tongue. “satoru, satoruuu.”

“still the same ‘ole sloppy girl i remember,” he says in a raspy tone, feeling himself get hard just from your own arousal. you’re violently shaking, tasting every twinge of pleasure that surges through your veins as you squirt on his fingers. satoru’s fingers slide in and out and it’s so loud, it echoes through the four walls of the bedroom you both once shared and he simpers cockily. “can’t help but soak me right with you, yeah?” and before you could even get another word out, he slides out his fingers, hearing the cute ‘pop’ that exits out of your throbbing crying folds. “poor baby,” and he waves his fingers in his face as you pant against his chest. satoru hums, popping both fingers in his mouth for a taste he’s missed for the longest.

with a grunt, his free hand squeezes your cunt and you moan, the back of your head cutely hitting against his chest in defeat. “mhm. still taste the same too,” and as you’re still shaking on his lap, he gives the right temple of your cheek a kiss. “missed my messy baby.”

[tbaluver]

The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: i might make a part two of this i just thought this was a cute idea in my drafts (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He is your weighted blanket whenever you need him. Literally and figuratively. When you sleep, he provides so much warmth. His head could be on your chest as he dozes off when you play with the locks of his hair. His arms would be around your body, occasionally pressing light kisses on your arms.

Your big baby. The warmth and softness of you and hearing the sound of your heartbeat soothes him. Therefore, he loves being the little spoon when cuddling despite the height difference between you two. He leans into your touch a lot so just hold him tight and run your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles his face into your chest.

He has the most confusing food combos he's cooked but you try them anyway. Sometimes it's not shocking to you that it's not your cup of tea so you decide it's best to just get take out instead or that you cook anyway. You both can cook your own plates at the same time in the kitchen or you'll help him cook what he wants even if the food combo is questionable so he doesn't burn the house down.

Will celebrate all of your achievements no matter how small. You were nervous about an exam? "Woot" Will be happy and proud that you got it over with and you'll both find something small or big to do to celebrate it

Cute date ideas would be stargazing or picnics in the park. Packing simple easy foods and treats while you both enjoy the scenery and afternoon. Or having a blanket out at the park while you watch the stars at night but he's looking at you.

Zayne:

The type to kiss you in bed every single night and when you both wake up. He'll kiss you on the lips, or the top of your head while he cups your cheek.

He'll always listen to your problems. He's an amazing listener and he gives logical advice as well as encouragement and praises depending on what the situation is.

He's a busy man but he tries to plan dates with you at least two or three times a week. If he has a busy schedule he'll make it up to you. Some dates include checking out new cafes to try new sweets or bakeries.

He's also a gentleman! He'll hold any door open whether it's a restaurant, yours or his home, or the car door, etc. He always tries to pick you up and drop you off. He'll also wait until your inside your home safely before leaving. He'll always stay on the dangerous side of the road or sidewalk whenever you both are walking together. With him you're never walking on the wrong side of the road whenever he's with you! If you were both in a busy area, he'll let you link your arms together, or intertwine your hands together, or he'll have his hand on your back so he knows your with him.

He'll make the effort to call you whenever he can. During his breaks from work, he'll call to see how you're doing. Or he'll call you at night to wish you a goodnight before he does an operation because he might not make it back home in time.

When he comes home late at night, he's cautious on handling your sleeping form because he does not want to wake up your peaceful sleep. He'll tuck your head in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head before pulling up the covers over your body.

Rafayel:

You are his muse. He is so in love with you that you fill up his mind so most of his works would be inspired by you. He would have many sketchbooks filled with sketches of mostly just you and sometimes of you and him. The sketchbook is filled with your side profile, your eyes, your smile, your hands, any parts of you that he has adored for years. One time he planned on drawing the scenery of the beach but he decided to sketch you instead. Or there would be times where you're at a restaurant and he'll doodle you on a napkin. Or when you're both at the beach, he'll grab a stick and draw you on the beach.

Being in a relationship with him basically means you will always have a companion. He'll trail on you wherever you go like you literally cannot get rid of him. When you want to shower by yourself, he'll stay on the other side of the shower talking about anything. He just likes having you by his side. You can sit near him while he paints a new canvas and sometimes he'll ask you your opinions. He'll also want you to travel with him if he had to fly out for exhibitions.

Although he can be very playful and a tease, he'll do anything for you. You just have to ask him. He's wrapped around your finger.

He'll buy matching jewelry for the both of you and he'll buy any dresses or outfits that he thinks you would love or that would look gorgeous on you.

He also loves loves it when you give him words of affirmation. He loves hearing when you compliment him or tell him that you love him and he'll also love doing that to you as well.

Sylus:

He would reprogram Mephisto to like you and not squawk/ claw you. If he was far away from a business situation he would have Mephisto or Luke and Kieran keep you company. The twins will probably tell you any stories you want about Sylus. He'll also make calls or text you to update you on anything while he's far away.

On nights when he's not home, he'll intentionally leave some of his shirts out because he knows you sleep in his shirts as you drift off into sleep. He makes sure that they smell like 'him'.

Loves holding hands anytime he can with you. Or just loves having his hands on you. Always has his hand on your back or intertwined with yours or wrapped around your waist.

Makes time for you anytime he can. He'll literally just give you his card and follow you around while you shop. He's also the type of partner to buy you everything that you touch. If there's a time where you're upset about something that's sold out, he'll be searching for it and buying it overnight with the fastest delivery!

He'll also find your height difference funny. Sometimes he'll place his hand out on your head and tease you. Or sometimes he'll hold things above his head and find your expression funny because it's still impossible for you to reach.

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．． ❛ #HER NEW BOYFRIEND’S NEXT!

𐙚 synopsis。．short hcs/scenarios of jealous yandere aventurine & sunday ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive themes . general yandere themes, brainwashing, gaslighting in Sunday’s part, mentions of violence, mentions of scide, imprisonment, except for aventurine relationships are not established, WARNING: extremely obsessed and smitten with you, read at risk!

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。honestly why do i think sunday will be literally the most dangerous yandere you could ask for。man has all the resources to brainwash you and lock you up pls

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY．。

。… a classic yandere obsessed over control. 。literally, he will be such a control freak. he has eyes all over penacony. he would have already kept track of what kind of soulglad you drink, when you get home, what your sleep habit is, all under the span of a week, and that’s before meeting you. obviously, as your future spouse, he is just obtaining information he needs for the future! 。will treat you surprisingly equally to his other guests when you meet, he doesn’t want gossip to get around, and he wants to make this “process” as natural as possible. 。after you are successfully within his area of control, he will start to monitor you even more meticulously- who you meet, what you do in your dreams.. he is a bit disappointed you don’t visit him on your own accord, but that will all be arranged soon! 。will casually go up to your room to ask you about “room service satisfaction” when he’s actually just busy breathing in your lovely scent and assessing your room for any “threat.” 。he doesn’t like that you’re affecting his ability to work. he’s impatient, of course, but he knows that he will have to wait for the perfect opportunity to whisk you away like a knight in shining armor. And all he needs is a little pawn to play the act of a villain- oh, your little male acquaintance will do! 。he’s like that- using people around you as puppets to his grand stage. Sunday is well-informed about morals, of course. But he won’t feel much guilt, not when he knows this is all for the ‘greater good.’ “They” will approve of it. 。and so, he starts to crack his charming facade- he will start asking you for private meetings, and he will put you in a vip room so you are isolated. He does this under the mask of ‘danger,’ saying that you have faced too many threats and he needs to ensure his guest’s safety. 。If you call your friends for help? The next day, they are mysteriously gone from penacony. You call them but your phone is out of service. 。but if you are still not charmed over his chivalry.. he’ll have to settle for easier methods.

❝ WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”

Your demand was choked with such pleasant sobs that SUNDAY couldn’t help but slip out a small victorious smirk that quickly masks itself to a concerned facade when you fix your angry watery eyes at him.

“I know it was you,” you continue, pacing around his office while he remains nonchalantly seated, trailing his eyes to your every step. “You made all my friends vanish from penacony, you had my parents escorted away to aeons know where, you stowed me here like I’m some kind of precious little jewelry for your eyes only. What do you want from me?” The evident snarl in your words merely makes Sunday tip his head a little, staring at you with the same serene look that frustrated you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you got it all wrong.” He shakes his head in disappointment and rose up from his seat, taking silent strides to you at an alarming speed that made you stumble backwards to the door. “‘They’ have done nothing for you during your stay in the Reverie. You are always disappointed with them, but you choose not to speak up. It is such a painful sight, you are just like a bird who lost its voice.” His voice is surprisingly gentle, dangerously neutral, which scares you, and makes you doubt yourself.

Maybe you were just being stupid, Sunday was acting like it wasn’t a big deal. And your friends indeed did not do much for you here, unlike Sunday, who provided you with all this luxury without accepting anything in return. You feel safe here, almost. You blink a little- the heat that had pounded through your ears was gone, and now you feel like a harmless puppy that just barked his best at a wolf.

“It‘s natural to be mad, dear.” His hand delicately entangles itself into your locks, and you stare at him, unable to say anything as he soothingly whispers. “It is hard to understand actions for the greater good. relax, sweetheart. Everything will be better now,” he purrs, staring right into your eyes. They are endless depths of azure. They are very, very mesmerizing, you think.

“Everything will be better now,” you realize, and you sigh into his arms that seemed to suddenly be present around you. But the worry disperses, you are fine with being close with him. His embrace is welcoming and soft. You don’t want to leave it ever again.

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE．。

。this man takes the cake for being the most jealous man in honkai 。he’s a charmer. he wins you over easily, because who could resist his charisma and his wealth, honestly. He flirts his way easily with you— unlike Sunday, he likes an impromptu plan, and rather enjoys surprises- any attempt of you trying to break up with him will not irritate him at all, contrary to the former. 。“Your attempts fascinate me. Too bad you lost all your bargaining chips. You gonna play another round with me, love? I’m more than willing to, you know.” 。he will be pleased, intrigued at how he can break you down again. he likes a little chase and gamble, he doesn’t want his prey served on his plate, he likes the thrill of hunt. 。he’d even be impressed if you escape him. But not for long, because he will bring you back to where you belong. 。this man will barely be angry over you. He won’t force any affection onto you, he satisfies himself by buying you expensive clothes instead, as if you are his little doll. He is content with you being a quiet and submissive trophy. 。what this man does not tolerate, however, is you being with anyone else. He cannot bear the thought that someone is around you more than he is, and that you rely on someone more than you rely on him. Aventurine has pride over his abilities, anyone taking you is like taking his most precious trump card. 。despite the jealousy he feels, he will still regard this as a particularly entertaining game. But he knows he will win this gamble, too.

❝ AH, IT’S SUCH A THRILLING GAME, ISN’T IT, SWEETHEART?”

You watch AVENTURINE toss the coin into the air and roll it around his fingers, his mesmerizing eyes examine the bitter look of defeat on your features.

“This isn’t funny,” you sobbed, despair dawning on you upon realizing that you truly lost everything to him. You had no more moves left in this game he put you in. He was merciful enough to spare your blood relatives, but your friends were gone- including the nice and sweet, innocent guy you shared friendly banter with for barely an hour.

“A gamble is fair and share, love.” He puts his hand on your waist, giving you a short kiss that tasted of wine. You felt nothing but defeat as he tossed the coin on the table where it flopped. “You just picked the wrong set of cards to play with.”

He is close to you all of a sudden, his hot breath tickling your skin, smelling of victory and wealth. His eyes stare right into you as he chuckles, the sadistic glint in his eyes glitter a little more when you feel a tear escape your eye. He leans to your ear, lightly biting your earlobe as he adds,

“Nobody wins with a deck with only clovers, my love. A shame that your cards were so… discardable.”

He laughs at that, watching your stunned face. He loves the look of surprise on you. It is endearing, it shows so well that you do not know how to play his game at all.

[adalindofcabinsix]

that kind of love never dies | chapter one

summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.

pairing: jake x mc

word count: 1.3K

warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.

author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.

masterlist

Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.

i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant

if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow

i'll be waiting for you :)

Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.

Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.

After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.

All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.

Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.

She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.

For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.

Except, of course, the FBI.

Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.

Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.

Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.

Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.

After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.

She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.

She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.

“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.

The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.

“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.

She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.

Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.

Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.

“Someone would definitely approve of that.”

Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.

“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.

“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”

“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”

“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.

“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”

“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”

“Have fun, Cinderella!”

Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.

Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.

“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.

“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”

“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.

The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.

“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”

taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Reasons why Sylus and MC’s Love is Strong and Enduring

The Front Side

Their relationship may have started in a wrong foot but they gradually (specially MC) come to terms that Sylus will constantly be at her side.

In “No Way Out” and “Radiant Brilliance” Sylus, the ever elusive and strong leader of Onichynus has no problem is showing weakness with MC. This is huge considering Sylus reputation. Being vulnerable and open is not something easy for a man like Sylus, but he let MC see every side of him.

Sylus is the first LaDS men to ever directly tell MC that he loves her and proves it to her in every way possible. (Source: Razor Grip)

Sylus is a man of confidence and conviction. MC is not very fond of him at the beginning (Nor he is fond of her) but I don’t feel that they genuinely hate each other. More like irritated and frustrated. But after all of the things ended in Sylus’ branch of the story, Sylus gradually but firmly makes his way to MC’s life. He always makes sure MC is alright and got everything she needs.

The memory “Wild Gaze” and “Melodic Weave” Is probably where Sylus gets the “sugar daddy” label. He really doesn’t mind spending his fortune with MC.

The Back End

They are on the opposing end of the society. Let’s not forget MC is a Hunter and Sylus is a wanted person of her organization. But romantically involved or not, MC never spilled anything about Sylus upon her return to Linkon from the N109 Zone. From this perspective, MC might be eternally grateful that she was able to return home, but this is huge for her. Considering she is all about being a hunter that not even Zayne is able to stop her from doing dangerous missions, her keeping secrets of Sylus whereabouts ans dealings is no easy feat.

Secret Dates and Escapades Shenanigans. This is one of the best tropes Sylus and MC have. The thrill of not to be caught together adds flavor to their relationship. We can see this on both “Melodic Weave” and voice call “Keep Distance”. Yes, Sylus couldn’t care less about what happened to him but MC is clearly not comfortable in the idea of them being seen together.

Given the conclusion above, they both still makes efforts to be together. And one of my favorite moments of them was during the “Riverbank Scenery” Phone Call. Sylus have to send a”suspicious” letter just to invite her out. And the fact that he called their meeting as a “rendezvous” instead of a date adds to anonymity on it and also heartbreaking. They may not directly say it,but they cannot be seen together. Which is why towards the end of the call, Sylus almost pleadingly ask her to stay with him longer.

The Consequences. By the time the we get to the “Razor Dance” memory, it’s clear that MC already has feelings for Sylus. But they are still keeping things a secret and I feel that the deeper reason for this is MC’s situation. What will happen to her once they are found out? MC might be branded as a traitor and lock her up. I know that Sylus will do anything and literally everything to save her but the real question is, will he risk it? I know for a fact that MC will not die but if the association finds out about it, she might be facing a problem same with what Ever Group is posing. MC has a very valuable asset and there is no guarantee that the Hunters Association will not take advantage of her as well.

The Conclusion

MC do not show any signs of giving up being a hunter or ever leave Linkon. She mentioned it in all the memories under the Wander in Wonder Event. She really hopes to return to Linkon and she misses her home. In the same event in the “Grassland Romance” with Sylus she asks him if he ever consider living in Linkon so they could always meet up and he readily agrees. With this we can assume the extent of Sylus love for her. He is willing to give up everything for her and be anything for her.

But although MC is not ready or willing (Depends how you take it) to give up being a hunter or leave Linkon, we cannot ignore the danger she is putting her self in every time she meets with Sylus. MC inviting him to live in her hometown can be taken as she wants him being in a more peaceful environment to keep him safe.

Their love story ma not be easy flowing but it’s not toxic. It may need a lot of effort, but it doesn’t make it less true. Loving Sylus can be a pain but it’s still rewarding.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.

(Part 3 is here!)

(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)

Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.

He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.

It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.

So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.

And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.

“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”

It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.

“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.

A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.

It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”

Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.

“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”

The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.

“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”

You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.

As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.

It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.

It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.

When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.

“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.

“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.

You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.

“Fix it,” you near sob.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”

You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”

He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”

[destiel-wings]

Dean Winchester & hug dynamic analysis

I was thinking about how whenever Dean hugs someone he's almost always the one hugging the other and how this links to his psychological trauma of always being the caretaker of people, making himself bigger to protect them.

Because that's how Dean sees himself, as a shield for others, and then I thought about how Cas actually is the shield, and he's HIS SHIELD, specifically, the only one who's really there to protect HIM, which is why it hits so much when we see this:

The way Cas wraps his arms around him, trying to protect him with his whole body--that he'd use as a shield and give up in a second if he could spare him from any pain and save him.

(for context: Dean was about to go use the soul bomb on Amara there, it was a suicide mission)

Bobby is another one that hits, he hugs him as the big hugger because he's his father, he loves him and he's actually here to protect him (and Dean LETS him -barely, but he lets him *and Cas* - in a way that he doesn't let Sam)

I watched a compilation of Sam & Dean hugs to check if i was right about it, but it's almost always Dean the big hugger with Sam, except when he's about to die or Sam sees him alive again after losing him.

Even then, Dean mostly tries to hug Sam as the big hugger anyway, with at least one arm, like a way to comfort him, making him feel protected, like his body language is saying "I'm here, I'm okay, I'm still strong, i can still protect you" (because their real father failed and Dean thinks it's his job).

He rarely lets himself be the little one hugged with Sam, unless he's barely conscious. Which is why it kills me so much more now that in this moment (s14, when Dean was going to lock himself in the Ma'lak box cause he was possessed by Michael) and Sam has a desperate breakdown and punches him (to stop him) he forcefully hugs him as the little hugger, the way Dean always kept him, like a way of saying "I still need you to protect me, please don't do this to yourself".

In the scene below he gives Sam his blessing to do a dangerous (possibly suicidal) mission, and one of his arms is down, but the other one tries to stay up--he's forcing himself to do it and he struggles because he still wants to protect him, but (as the seasons progress) he slowly becomes more prone to let go.

So in this view the hug dynamic becomes an indicator of how Dean sees Sam (and himself) and his protector role, how adult and self sufficient he considers Sam, and how much he lets people around him take care of him, lowering his walls and letting himself be hugged.

This is also why i think hugs from characters like Garth or Charlie are so special, because they're just like us: they see Dean and they just know that he needs to be hugged a lot, and that he's not used to it, so they just go for it-- and it's so normal and kind and spontaneous that Dean's just not used to it-- he doesn't know how to respond (especially with Garth, at the beginning, but as the seasons progress, he learns to, and he even initiates the hug eventually).

I love the hugs where they're 50/50 (one arm up, one arm down both), feels like they're equals, both taking care of each other. I feel like with Sam and Dean, this indicates a healthier dynamic, because Dean lets go a little of the role that was imposed to him and manages to see Sam as the strong individual that he is. But the same applies to 50/50 hugs with other characters, like with Cas, where I feel like it testifies how equals they feel in terms of being fighters, there's a show of respect of each other's strength that transpires by the gesture (which is even more astounding considering that Cas is literally a powerful angel).

And just to end on a destiel note, I'd like to note the possessiveness and protectiveness of Dean (rightfully so) whenever he finds Cas after he thought he had lost him, and how that translates into his body/hug language:

[boydepartment]

hiii r u taking requests! if so can you do enhypen reaction where you call them in danger and they get super panicked

pick up- enhypen texts + scenarios

a/n: HI ANON! i am always taking requests :) i hope you like it!!!!!!

warnings- dangerous scenarios, one reader gets followed, another one burns her hand, they aren’t dark at all tho :) nothing triggering

MASTERLIST

jungwon-

you had called jungwon a few minutes ago while walking home and you felt the presence of someone else. it was unusual for you to be walking home late from a study session and other students did too. however your intuition was raising red flags.

- “y/n are you okay? are you safe?” jungwon was panicking, you could hear it in his voice. you knew if he could he would drive over at this moment.

- “i’m okay. i just made it back to my abode. i’m just really shaken up i’m sorry for scaring you and calling you when you were working.”

- “baby please don’t ever apologize, you were scared and i’m glad you come to me for stuff like this.” you heard rustling on his end as you safely locked your door behind you. jungwon spoke up again, “i’m coming over with snacks and stuff. i’ll be there in 15.”

heeseung-

you were home alone for the first time in years and heard people yelling loudly outside. usually your friend would be home with you but they were off with their family which left you by yourself. during the day you didn’t mind but at night it was different. when you peeked out your window the people were fighting and it scared you. leading you to call heeseung.

- “i’m on my way right now. why didn’t you tell me you were home alone?” heeseung got right to the point when you answered his call.

- “i’m sorry i didn’t think that it was important and i didn’t want you to get in trouble if you came over and-“

- “i don’t care about that. are the people still outside?” heeseung was rushing you could tell.

- “no….”

- “okay i am still on the way. stay on the phone for me pretty.”

jay-

your hand was on fire, quite literally for a few seconds. and pick up the phone when jay called you back. which led him to rushing over to your home and using his key. immediately he rushed over to you and put your hand under the kitchen sink water. your burns weren’t horrible but they were pretty bad. jay swiftly picked you up and sat you down on the counter so he could wrap your hand.

- “i’m sorry i called when you were with your mom….” you mumbled into his shoulder. you were panicking and that alone made you exhausted.

- “i’m not mad at all baby i promise. is the bandage too tight?”

- you shook your head no and places small kisses on the side of his neck. you were too tired and overwhelmed to thank him. he knew and just swiftly carried you to your room.

jake-

the first mistake your made was even going to this party. it was a stupid idea and you got roped in. so when the cops showed up and you scaled a wall, breaking your nail, scraping your knees, and falling into a rose bush , you immediately called jake.

- “okay where are you right now?” jake asked, you could hear his pants, jogging to your location on the life 360. he asked you to get it so he could see how close or far you two were always.

- “i’m now sitting next to the rose bu-“

- “ah i see you!” you saw jake jog up to you and kneel, “hop on. i’ll piggy back you to my dorm and we will get you all cleaned up okay?”

sunghoon-

normally you don’t call sunghoon without asking first. it was just a thing you both did. so when you called he was immediately concerned.

- “baby can you hear me ? are you okay?” sunghoon frantically asked when you picked up.

- “i’m okay…. i just got scared because there was a loud noise in the library i’m sorry i panicked. you’re away again and i got paranoid without you.” you whispered into the phone. sunghoon tried not to softly smile, he missed you so much.

- “im here princess. talk to me tell me about your day. please.”

sunoo-

your day was terrible. the week prior you and sunoo got caught getting coffee at 4am, and your face was covered thankfully, however, engenes are still sometimes crazy so you were paranoid. when you went to get groceries today, you had a couple of them go up to you and ask about your keychain. which was in the photo. obviously you played dumb but it was still scary.

- “they asked about your keychain? why don’t you take it off now?” sunoo asked, you were putting groceries away now.

- “you got it for me when you went to italy. i don’t want to take it off it reminds me of you.” you said and reached the top shelf.

- sunoo smiled to himself, “i’ll get you a new one. i’ll get you as many as you want.”

riki-

you and riki had gone out to a themepark. no one knew except staff and the other members, you wanted a date and something nice to do since you both don’t get this a lot. the day was going great, and you both didn’t have a care in the world at the moment. at some point you both took bathroom breaks and were separated. as you waited by the men’s bathroom you decided to check your phone for the first time in hours. you saw tweets from a few seconds ago and they were of you, and riki. your eyes widened and you immediately went to a nook of the amusement park to call him. wanting to just hide away.

- “y/n where are you? you were supposed to be waiting for me outside of the bathroom? y/n what is going on?” he was looking for you frantically, if riki lost you at this park he didn’t know what he would do.

- “i’m between these two buildings and and-“ you were stuttering, you yelped when you felt someone pull you into their embrace, “please don’t hurt me!”

- riki looked down at you confused, “y/n it’s me? what happened?” you looked up at him blinking and showing your phone to him which had the screenshotted tweets.

- “fuck…”

[mrsdesade]

Control;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (Ophera as usual) TW: NSFW, smut, sub!Homelander, praise, teasing, aftercare Words count: 2,3k Note: literally a pwp, when the voices obligates you to write something different more spicy than usual

You thought you could leave, but his voice ordered suggested you to stay a little longer. To sin again. In the private swimming pool he had built in his apartment. Only because, after months, he learned that you loved taking hot baths after missions.

This time, after another demonstration of the fact that he could do whatever he wanted with your body, you decided to act bolder, ignoring his words, elegantly. Standing up from the water and walking towards the marble steps.

''You're not the only one who can do whatever he wants here. You had fun? Very well. But I'm leaving.''

''Ah, so you think you're in charge now?''

You're disobeying, you're going against his orders. He's not a fan of being challenged, he can't deny the thrilling feeling of your rebelliousness.

"Not yet, but what If I'm feeling more brave than usual?"

You came back, still standing in front of him, but he doesn't move from his position, sitting comfortably and smiling at you. You move a hand in his direction and softly touch his chin with a light gesture, moving a little his face in your direction.

There's a certain vulnerability in his expression as you move his face towards you. His eyes lock onto yours, the usual arrogance momentarily replaced with a hint of curiosity.

"Careful, doll. Don't push your luck too far."

You smiled a little, sitting on his lap once again in that long night, inside the hot water of the bathtub, and moving slowly close to his face. Showing no fear, the adrenaline of playing that dangerous game with him makes you feel alive. You know you're the only one, at the moment, that can handle him.

"You always say that, but in the end, we just end up fucking all night. You need to move on to something more creative, or I might get bored."

That dangerous last phrase, lips a few millimeters from his, just because you wanted, not thinking about the consequences, you never did. What a terrible mistake.

As you sit back on his lap, he can feel the thrill coursing through his veins. There's surprise in his eyes. He tries to keep his composure, but your words send a shiver down his spine.

"You little minx, you really think you're invincible, don't you?“

He grips the edge of the bathtub, knuckles turning white. The tension in the air is electric.

You remained still, trying to don't flinch and don't esitate, trying to be more in control of the situation. Everything is just a test, a dangerous test to see If you can keep him under control.

"Little minx, doll, etc All nicknames. I have a name, Homelander. Use it."

You ordered, pushing his patience even more. He grabs your waist, pulling you closer, until your bodies press against each other. His fingers digging into your skin as he tries to control the situation. He looks up at you with dark, fiery eyes, almost challenging your audacity.

"Oh, you want me to use your name? Is that it? You want me to remember you're more than just my pretty little toy?"

Your hands run before on his chest, then on his neck and at the end, on his blonde hair. At the beginning is just a caress, but suddenly you grab his scalp and move him in your direction with a firm movement.

"Am I really just a toy to you? A little fragile and useless toy? Really really really?"

You say in a low tone, your voice is sexy, melodic, the voice of a manipulator. Oh damn, you're really pushing him over the edge.

Homelander's breath hitches as you grab a handful of his hair, his body responding to your touch immediately. The pain from your grip is oddly thrilling, and he can't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through him. He's absolutely not used to being dominated like this.

"What do you want me to say? That you're special? Unique? Are you looking for me to boost your confidence, Ophera?"

"Special? Unique? Oh dear, tell me something I don't know."

You purred at his ear, trying to make him shiver. To make shiver the most powerful and dangerous man on Earth. Your grip on his hair is firm, you can clearly feel his body under yours responding clearly.

That mixture of pain and desire is perfect to ignite his fire.

A low growl escapes Homelander's throat as you whisper in his ear, your voice sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel himself responding to your touch, his body betraying him, showing his desire for you.

"You really know how to tease, don't you?"

You sighed dramatically, since he's not giving what you're so kindly asking, you decided to play even more with him. Trying something more effective.

You moved on his naked lap, while he's waiting for an answer, with a decisive gesture, unexpectedly, you let him entering in you. Your eyes are fixed on his, to see every single reaction from him.

"So what about this method? This isn't teasing at all."

His blue eyes widen in shock as you unexpectedly guide him inside you, a mix of surprise and pleasure overtaking his features. He can't help but let out a gasp, his body tensing up at the sudden and overwhelming sensation.

"Ngh... F-fuck. What are you doing?"

He can barely speak, his voice strained and raspy as he struggles to control his reaction. His grip tighten, holding onto you like a lifeline.

"Just trying to be convincing.''

You smile, as mischievously as you've ever been with him, your movements are slow, absolutely intentional. Looking at him surprised by your actions. The grip you have on his hair has loosened a little. And you started caressing his cheeks, mixing pleasure and a mischievous care.

This time, you're in control.

"You're... playing dirty..."

"Of course I am, and I've just started.''

And then you add your last weapon, neck kisses. Delicate and sublime. Subtle and whispered kisses on his sensitive neck. Last shot to drive him mad.

Homelander's resolve crumbles completely under your touch, his body shuddering at the sensation of your lips on his neck. He can no longer hold back the low, shaky moans escaping his throat. He closes his eyes, unable to resist the wave of pleasure washing over him.

"Ah, f-fuck you..."

"Oh no, no no, don't say such bad words to me..."

You turn one of your kisses on his neck into a sharp bite. Interested in leaving a mark on his perfect skin. You've never stopped moving your hips, tormenting him so well. Just to get an answer. Just to feel in control. All just to assert dominance in him for a couple of minutes.

He gasps sharply, his body arching involuntarily at the unexpected sensation.

"F-fuck. Damn, don't y-you dare to stop..."

He grits his teeth, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you continue to torment him with that pleasure. He's struggling to hold onto his control, but you're driving him to the edge.

"Come on admit that I'm more than a toy for you. Or you can trust me, I'll stop on the best part."

His usual dominance is now melting away under your onslaught, you can feel it, his greedy body is already at your command, and even his proud mind is slowly getting caught in your trap of pleasure.

"You… you're more than that, ok?"

Homelander's voice is strained, his usual arrogance slowly cracking as you continue to torment him. He's frustrated, but so overwhelmed by the sensation of you moving on top of him. He looks at you with a mixture of arousal and irritation.

"You have what you wanted. Now give me what I want."

"You can do better than that, pretty boy. Give me what I want."

You've slowed down your movements, he feels the pleasure slipping away, his only way to get what he wants: is to obey you.

He lets out a frustrated groan as you slow down your movements again, denying him the release he's craving. He knows what you want, and he's clearly torn between his desire to resist and his impatient need.

"Damn it, you're really going to make me beg, aren't you?”

He grits his teeth. He hates being in this position. But the desire to satisfy his carnal desires is too strong.

"Fine. You win. You're...not a toy. You're...y-you're..."

"You're struggling baby, but you're so close. It's easy. Finish your sentence. And I'll give you what you want so badly."

You're talking with a gentle but mischievous tone, caressing his face, being caring and dominant at the same time. You move on him only when he's speaking, bringing him so close to the edge.

His body trembling under your touch. He's struggling to find the words you want to hear, and his usual arrogant composure is now replaced by pure devotion to you.

"Y-you're... something more. You're...different. I can't... I can't ignore you even if I...I want to..."

He looks at you with pleading eyes, his voice shaky as he speaks.

"Please, give me what I want. I can't stand it anymore..."

You looked at him with a satisfied smile, finally feeling that you win against him this time. You felt incredibly powerful.

"Oh, you've no idea how much knowing this makes happy. You've been so good baby. So damn good..."

Your tone is sarcastic but some sort of caring and romantic. You give him another caress, and then you decide to gave him the reward for being so obedient. You purred at his ears and started moving more faster, letting him holding you to reach his final pleasure.

He lets out a guttural moan as you begin to move faster. His eyes flutter closed, lost in the flood of sensations coursing through his body. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his ragged breaths hot against your skin.

"Oh god... please don't... don't stop. I...I can't hold it any longer..."

"Let go, release yourself. That pleasure, is all for you."

Your legs are trembling as well because of his movements under you, but this isn't the moment to flinch. You remained still and in control. Whispering lovely things to him. Like the most gentle love he ever had.

Your whispered words and comforting touch send continues shivers down his spine, adding to the already intense sensations building within him.

"I... I need... you... f-fuck..."

You gasp softly. He caught you by surprise with that last sentence, you definitely didn't expect that from him. Getting a slight emotional kick from it, his words hit your heart in an unexpected way. And you can feel a single shiver of pleasure run down your spine, stronger than the other. But you don't have much time to realize.

Homelander feels your body shudder in response, but he's too far gone to pay it much mind. He's completely lost in the moment, his mind and body consumed by the intense moment. His body shakes violently as the pleasure reaches its peak, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he finally reaches his release. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you close against him as if you were his lifeline in the midst of the overwhelming sensations.

He buries his face in your neck once again, his body still trembling with aftershocks as he tries to catch his breath.

"...you've certainly got a knack for being… persuasive."

A calm silence hangs in the air for a brief moment, the only sound being the steady flow of the still-running water. You're immersed in thoughts, trying to understand why his previous affirmation made your heart beat, it shouldn't have happened, but his voice interrupts your flow of thought. He speaks again, while you are still gently caressing his hair.

"I don't understand how you manage to get under my skin every damn time."

He looks up to you, finding comfort and a unique form of vulnerability in your arms. Irritation and admiration running in his veins.

''...you're messing with my head. You're making me feel things... goddamn it, you're making me soft."

You remained silent until that moment, just listening to his words, not knowing what to say, but his last statement makes you laugh a little.

"Why the hell are you laughing? Hey, don't laugh at me!''

''I'm laughing because I didn't say anything at all, you're doing everything by yourself.''

Your tone has softened, and your eyes are fixed on his so unusual expressions. You're discovering parts of him you never imagined. Some of them also very ridiculous. Like the overthinking he's showing right now.

Deep down he knows that you're right — his reactions are revealing more than he probably wants to admit.

He tries to maintain his usual stern demeanor, but the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile. Can't resist a response in his usual sarcastic tone.

"Fine, go ahead and laugh it up. Just don't expect me to become all nice and mushy every time we do this."

''Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, it will be our little secret. I would never want anyone to think that the great and powerful Homelander is being put down, no matter how hot the situation is, by one of his teammates.''

You give him one last caress, resting your arms on his shoulders, showing an adorable grin on your fiery red lips, where your lipstick was still perfectly in place.

''You always have to be in control, right?''

"Damn right I do. I'm the leader here, I'm always in charge."

He rolled his eyes at your teasing, but secretly enjoyed the soft touch of your hands and the sight of your perfect lips forming that adorable grin. He tried to fight a growing smirk, but failed miserably.

"It's just that... you happen to have a way of making me... forget that."

''And you have to admit that my method is almost perfect.''

You smile, with immense charm, victorious. He could dominate the world If he only wanted to, but in this situation he couldn't fight you in any way, you make him vulnerable with just a few caresses.

''I must say... surprisingly effective."

Oh, what great power you now hold in your hands.

-------

Hope you enjoyed this as much I did! Kisses for all of you <3

[sold2vlaykz]

ONLY YOU

Prompt: How slashers act when they’re jealous/outbursts/reassurance.

-

MICHAEL MYERS

Believe it or not Michael is a very jealous boy. He just doesn’t believe he is, he is simply “doing what he usually does.”

When Michaels jealous it isn’t a pretty sight. He can become very hostile towards you or innocent bystanders.

Though he is very jealous it doesn’t happen very often, because he’s barely home so it’s unlikely.

When he’s mildly jealous he’d scare you, just to make sure you know who you belong to and simply kill whoever threatened your “relationship.”

If he’s very jealous, he’d actually harm you. Slight slices or soft choking. Taunting you by leaving bodies around the house.

Though don’t think just because he’s a little dangerous that he doesn’t need reassurance, it helps a little to watch you reject people.

Tell people you have a boyfriend, while mentioning his name.

Makes him almost fond of what you do, knowing that you’re his and you’re not ashamed to tell others that you are too.

If you did manage to make him feel slightly good he’d become even more protective, wanting you be only his and making it clear.

Sometimes you have to try and convince him to stay hidden when a neighbor or something knocks because of his jealousy.

There was one time he just popped out and stabbed the couple just because her husband looked at you a little too long.

And he wears the murders like a fucking badge of honor, sometimes seeing their heads propped up on a counter randomly.

Hearing you scream was another thrill.

But one thing that made Michael twitch, or snap. Some would even say go crazier is if someone would to hurt you, or even make you scream.

There was a time you had gotten into an altercation with someone walking down the street as someone let their dog shit on your and Michaels yard.

It was in the middle of the night too, and they had just left it there. The only reason you knew is because you caught them on camera.

So Michael being the lovely boyfriend he is he went to their house and slaughtered her teenage daughter, leaving her there to grieve.

You didn’t even find out until it was all over the news and the search for Haddonfield killer began again.

To be honest you didn’t even know what the two of you were, he just didn’t let you around anyone else, any men mainly. Or outside in general, courting you in his own animalistic way.

Sometimes if you made him incredibly angry he’d disappear, leaving you isolated after his killing spree.

After his jealous encounters he’d barely let you out the house, and you didn’t dare to disobey him even when he was gone because it was like he always had eyes on you.

Always lurking, it felt good knowing that you were protected, but not as much knowing he’d kill a person if they looked at you in the wrong way.

—

Jason Voorhees

Jason is super jealous, he could be considered murderous jealousy but typically he relies on your reassurance and loyalty.

There are times where he does kill when he feel like he needs too, but only when you seem to feel uncomfortable and harassed.

Jason is big and scary but when it comes down to you two he becomes soft, shy even.

After an outburst, he’d feel insecure a little ashamed he felt that way. He’d come to you, and sit there letting you comfort him.

Jason isn’t really vocal about how he feels so he relies on you to understand him by body language.

When you do he feels so excited, happy even. Nuzzling his head into you.

He doesn’t really get jealous just insecure, a bit of sad jealousy.

Though sometimes, very very rarely. When he’s angry and jealous he’d become overprotective. I mean he’d keep you locked up in the house.

Especially if you were almost hurt in the middle of the ruckus, he’d literally chain every exit or entrance of your cabin up and keep you locked in there until everything was over.

Sometimes you’d get into arguments because of how annoying his jealous habits could get.

Sometimes it’d either hurt his feelings and cause him to go into hiding or argue back, he’d thrash things around or yell. He couldn’t really speak so it’d just be verbal roaring.

He’d apologize after but his behavior is very repetitive and hard to deal with. Though he’s sweet enough to pick flowers and apologize harder later.

—

Bubba sawyer

Dangerously jealous, though there isn’t really time for him to act on it unless you tell him too. Of course he’d act if you were in danger or so he’d just stay by your sides when he could.

Though when he has time, he does. You’d be talking to a soon to be victim and he’d come revving his chainsaw and in seconds he slaughtered whoever was talking to you.

Though he’s still very insecure, especially when it came down to you helping out and flirting with the victims to lure them in.

He’d get upset angry and even try to argue to get you out of helping.

He’d whine to you about it, shout and scream. Though it’s easy to shut him up with some reassurance and a kiss.

Him being jealous is a common occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary.

He doesn’t even trust his family around you, always watching. Keeping an eye out, unless you were with his mother.

Sometimes if you end up being left with Hoyt or any male for God knows why he’d start arguments with his family.

Grabbing you and taking you upstairs and forcing you to stay in the room, and throwing tempter tantrums when you didn’t. 

He’d cry when you get mad at him, and throw things around when he was jealous. It was annoying watching him act like a child.

He’d ignore you , give you the silent treatment. It was practically like dealing with a child.

You reassuring him had become a daily task at that point.

—

Pretzel Jack

Attention jealousy, There had been one time where you were hanging out with another imaginary friend and he got sad and snapped.

When you got mad at him he had a long frown, he just wanted your attention, just wanted to play.

He hated when your attention was on other people, like a spouse or friend.

Which is why he was so happy when you got mad at them, and he finally could kill them!

Typically murders are sort of your fault because you should be able to control your anger and keep him under control.

If he’s jealous he’s quick to try and do some tricks to get your attention, and if it failed he’d wail around or have an outburst.

Or go to extreme efforts to get you to smile.

If all else fails, he kills your other friend. And *poof!* you’re his again.

Jack is very overprotective, so it’s more or so him just trying to protect you.

He doesn’t even know what jealousy is he just feels a throbbing in his hands and acts on it.

After doing whatever he did he’d play or lay near you. Making sure to keep everyone away whilst it was just the two of you.

And if you found out what he did and got mad he’d punish himself by keeping himself away from you unless you were in trouble.

Or he’d get really sad and hide away.

When he was jealous it was sort of funny, he’d go to the extreme just to see you crack a smirk or just look his way.

Sometimes purposely sulking in the corner to see if you’d check on him.

Of course you did and your silly Jack was back. Though that didn’t stop him from becoming jealous over and over again. Having to reassure him that he’s your favorite and always will be.

—

Gabriel may

Gabriel was the wrong guy to get jealous, he’d lock you away and keep you to himself.

He’d kill anyone who threatened your relationship, not just because of his obsessive personality but because he was insecure as a whole.

He believed that anyone could take you away, woman or men because he believed he wasn’t attractive enough to keep you.

He’d scare them away, flickering the lights or growling through a phone or radio.

And if that didn’t work, he’d just see them later tonight so they wouldn’t even share the same world as you anymore.

Gabriel didn’t believe he needed reassurance, though he did enjoy it he hid it well.

He believed that it was naturally for a man to become overprotective of his partner, he wouldn’t even consider himself overprotective.

He didn’t care if you rejected whoever wanted you, they shouldn’t have thought about you romantically in the first place.

Now they literally have to die.

The difference between him and any other guy is you can’t talk him out of it, when he’s made up his mind, it’s no longer a thought but a soon to be decision.

He’d come home and pretend nothing happened, that it was an ordinary day after he just shoved a knife into an innocent man’s jugular just for having a slight crush on you.

Though if you got sad about it, he’d become insecure and angry.

Wondering why’d you care about any guy that isn’t him, or anyone that isn’t him at all. It was scary watching Gabriel become angry because he couldn’t really control his powers.

The lights will start to flicker, phones going on and off and radio blasting static. The walls vibrating and cabinets clattering.

Of course you’d tell him there’s no one else but as I said reassurance doesn’t really work on him. So you either just let him blow a fuse until he’s all fired out. Or you just ignore him,

But that won’t get you anywhere but him thinking you love someone else.

—

Jacob Goodnight

Though you rejected anyone’s crush proposal to you Jacob still got angry.

He’d bash their brains out saying you’d never date filthy sluts or impure people like them.

There were quiet times too, where’d when he got jealous he’d just come whining to you, and ask you if you loved him despite all he’s done.

And when you’d tell him yes he’d go back to blundering young adults to death before coming to ask you the same question again.

Just to make sure you wanted to be with him despite what he is and what he can’t help but be.

Though it is very easy to reassure Jacob, he trust you with his whole heart.

Sometimes he gets jealous but he can’t help it, there’s always someone that’s going to be attracted to you

He just didn’t like the thoughts of sinners, especially sinners being attracted to you.

—

Norman bates (old)

Norman his mother were very jealous people, she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting her poor boy and him having his first heartbreak.

So she did what any mother would do, kill them or convince Norman too.

She’d whisper cheeky little things in his ear, telling him if he didn’t eliminate them soon they’d become competition.

And eventually Norman just began the killing on his own.

Norman was extremely jealous, so he stuck by your side. Quick to speak up when someone was flirting with you.

Of course he stuttered and fumbled over his words but he knew he had to stand over you because you were his.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away, not even his mother.

He’d hold your hand everywhere, even in the house, he was weirdly obsessive.

Randomly kissing your palm and each knuckle, telling you how much he loved you so randomly in the most awkward situations.

It was hard to use the bathroom alone without Norman knocking wondering how long it’d take before he got to see you again.

You could barely leave the house, when you two started dating he wanted you to move in immediately.

You barely had any say!

But he just wanted you there fast so he could watch your every move and ward off any other competitors.

If you went on a walk by yourself he’d bombarde you with questions, why didn’t you tell him, did you want some distance from him?

What did he do?

It must’ve been that man he was letting stay in the hotel, he has to get rid of him now. That’s what mother would’ve wanted and, it’s what he wants.

Why is he cleaning up blood?

Oh a rat got in that’s all. He’d pat your head giving you soft forehead kisses before waving you off.

When you two get home he’d make you a sandwich and ask you about your walk, about the scenery. If you had any small talk with a stranger.

Of course you knew it was because of his jealousy,

But Norman was so timid you thought it was cute, not that he could kill somebody!

Kissing your cheek with clenching your shoulders hard, confessing what he did. Because the pressure was too much to keep from his beloved.

You forgive him? Oh thank God, that means he can do it again right? You didn���t say not too exactly.

—

Charles Lee Ray.

Charles was the wrong person to make jealous, he’d either put you in your place or kill you both! So you had to be careful,

There was one time a guy came up to you in the grocery store and before you could say anything there was Charles with a pistol up to his back.

He made the guy get on his knees and beg for fucks sake.

After that he yelled at you for even letting the guy in your proximity.

Charles was the type to get sexual when he was angry, angry intimacy.

Either that or blowing the guys head off and going on the run from the police because of it again.

He always expected you to wait for him, whether he was gone for months or years.

And one day he expected you to take him back even when he was a fucking doll!

It was ridiculous, he was always getting himself into some shit and wanting to come back into your arms.

Sad to say the maniac did have his soft moments, where he’d come home after a long run and fall straight into your arms with a snore.

Happy to be back, and happy to see you waiting for him.

Not really like you had a choice though. It’s either you did or your head would meet the back of his famous pistol.

There was no escape from Charles, and his rash jealousy and anger.

It was sort of nice for him to want you and only you, kinda awkward watching him call other woman whores though.

In the beginning he was a cheater, believing that he couldn’t trust anyone, that was until you were fed up of his bullshit and tried to leave him.

Crying, telling him how much he meant to you but you were so tired.

And ever since then the fuck didn’t leave your side, at first it started as threats, stalking and eventually you getting a restraining order.

But that didn’t keep him away, not even prison.

The police had given up before you did so you were sort of stuck, and with him threatening to kill anyone that tried make a move on you.

And eventually, he kept calling you his and you just settled with it.

Not like there was anything you could do.

—

Pennywise

You weren’t dating him, more like stuck with him. A chain on your ankle strapped to Satan who’s asleep.

And when he wakes up, he eats.

You were fairly attractive, and after all he was sort of a kid killer so any time some teenager cat called you he was hungry.

He’d laugh at you, taunting, making you believe you could escape before trapping you right again.

Devouring whoever wanted you in front of your very eyes.

One time you tried to defeat him to kill him, you tried to say hurtful things like “you only kill kids you fucking creep.”

And it backfired.

He laughed and left, the next day you heard screaming. And hid until it was safe to come out. Seeing hundreds of adult corpses, men, woman.

And he sat on top, chomping on a leg like a king on a throne.

Laughing loud, his yellow eyes glowing fiercely in the dark.

Now it was different with men, or any adult who tried to hit on you so ever. He needed food, so he couldn’t kill all the adults and stop the production.

So he did what any intelligent psychopath would do, he killed their kids. Not only will whoever hit on you suffer, he gets fed too.

And if they didn’t have kids he’d just kill them, wasn’t a lot of fun for him but still.

He’d play games on you, pretending that they were going to save you until their head randomly fell of their body.

His laughing came quick his same little dance and taunting.

Though there was one odd time he went out of character, a time where he had been sleeping, or what they thought had been “defeated.

And someone, kept cat calling you, drunkard. Enough to come up to you and grasp your arms and started touching you.

You shocked yourself, because you knew the first name you screamed.

And it was unlike him to not play around with his food first, but he came. Broad daylight. And cut his neck clean off.

His eyes were a light blue and full of anger yet worry.

He grabbed you and carried you to the sewers, trying to force you to sleep through the rest of the years with him.

To keep you safe in a way.

But you had to explain to him that you couldn’t, remembering you were human and didn’t need yearly hibernation.

He was reluctant but at least made you stay down for two days, keeping you safe and fed until you needed to leave, for personal hygiene and job reasons.

Not like you needed to work anyway, he’d just kill anyone who tried to kick you out.

When he woke up he ate first, devouring everything because he didn’t trust himself being hungry and going to see you.

Of course he scared you as his little welcoming.

But sometimes he’d nuzzle into the crook of your stomach, he was technically an alien, he had his animal like tendencies.

He was weirdly possessive, he didn’t even understand his own jealousy. Watching you flirt with a random guy who wanted to help carry what he stated a “attractive.” Persons groceries.

Watching you smile, pick at your skin and cover your teeth as you giggled made him angry.

And he was going to make both of you pay for it.

Of course he killed the man first, he was really focused on you. He courted you, waited for you, protected you, and sometimes even fed you. And this what you do to him? Ungrateful human.

He’d come to your home welcoming himself, not announcing it or anything. Scaring you, taking the form of a human intruder.

Pretending to try and kill you before transforming back with a laugh in his face, before you could argue with him he widened his jaw and went to take a bite.

You screamed but he covered your mouth.

He didn’t let go, it wasn’t deep enough to puncture your skin but enough to bruise you.

And he stayed there, you slept with his teeth latched onto your skin.

He was fast asleep, almost subconsciously doing it.

Tightening inch by inch every time you tried to move his jaw.

—

Patrick Bateman

Patrick getting jealous was rare, he never felt that way unless he felt someone was superior than him.

Or someone caught your attention, which was hard to do.

When Patrick was jealous he’d work out more, try to become extra perfect so you’d never advert your eyes again.

Wearing more expensive and stylish clothes, or taking you shopping.

Dressing you so luxurious anyone would assume you were married.

So jealous that he proposed, making you a housewife so that you couldn’t escape. And every time you went out with those “whore.” Friends any cuck that wanted you would know you’re taken.

He wish he could just fucking label you, but god he wouldn’t want to ruin that god forsaken perfect skin.

He’d even solve his jealousy through intimacy.

Doing what he considered a God worthy performance, showing you that no one could make you happy as much as he does, pleasured, taken care of, loved.

Hell anything.

But there was a point where he had to, take things into his own…gloved, hands.

You had this male close friend, this handsome idiot that you knew since high school, through college, and now.

He was perfect, he had money, fit, nice skin. And it didn’t even look like he was trying, and to top it off he was intelligent.

Anytime you’d come back from hanging out with him you’d refer to him as a ‘cute little geek.’ And he was already having a bad day he just needed some release.

So when your friend bumped into Patrick on the street so dumbly looking for you. Can you believe this?

He was confessing his love for you, to Patrick!

The taxi was full of his confession and Patrick’s occasional “oh really?” Right before he beat the pore guy to death with his golf club.

It was sloppier than usual but he couldn’t have someone talking about his precious only ever in such a way.

When you found out about your friends death you were devastated, he comforted you but couldn’t hide the scowl on his face.

Why did you care so much? Why were you crying so hard about a man that wasn’t him?

He enjoyed you sleeping on him but still couldn’t believe how broken down you were after losing another guy.

You eventually got acquainted with Patrick’s “friends.” And you suppose word got around that you were his because men started to avoid you.

Maybe because Patrick always stood behind you with his threatening demeanor but still.

You eventually got happier but couldn’t help but notice how over protective Patrick got.

Patrick loved how soft you were emotionally and just didn’t want anyone else to have it.

He’d lay his head in your palm and sit there for hours. Before going back to his nonchalant monotonous ways.

[priyajoyyy]

Tangled

Clarisse la rue x repunzel!pesephone!fem!reader

Reader spent their entire life hidden away in a tower to protect her from the outside world wanting her for her powers, its only when a certain daughter of ares finds her scared and confused, that she finally gets to see the outside world like she always longed to.

Warnings:

Toxic parents, yandere!parents, oblivious!, Clarisse being stubborn, overprotectiveness, cannon typical violence, readers not got the best survival instincts 😭, reader is blonde, more to come maybe

Gods had a weird way of protecting people. And while you could confidently say they your parents were never intending to harm you or your siblings. They definitely went about it in weird ways.

Of course you never realised this, being locked away in a tower your entire life was all you even knew. You didn’t understand that your life wasn’t normal.

You didn’t realise you weren’t the only child your parents had hidden off in magical locations to protect them from Zeus and the dangers of the world in their own twisted ways.

And so you stayed where you were, waiting in your tower for the days that your parents would come and visit or the few creatures of the forest you had befriended came to your window.

With not much else to do but paint or read everyday in the same walls. Your hair growing and failing to ever stop, getting to the point of it being constantly in the way.

🍊☀️🪷

Clarisse was beyond confused.

She was 150% sure they had come the same way they had 100 times before. She was convinced. And yet there had never been a giant tower int he middle of the path all the other times they had taken this route.

Her brother suggested that maybe they took a wrong turning, surely they were just lost.

But Clarisse refused to acknowledge the idea she could even being wrong, no she was curtain they came the right way.

Besides they needed somewhere to camp out for the night anyway, so she took off towards the tower.

“Clarisse what are you doing?” Her brother shouted after her, the girl from the Hermes cabin turning to give him a look of annoyance.

The two followed after the girl, watching for a while as she searches around for some sort of entrance before giving up and turning back to them.

“Come on, we need to find a way up” Clarisse tells the two, not being able to find any sort of entrance other than the window near the top of the tower.

“Why?” The blonde girl asked in annoyance, “can’t we just go find somewhere to settle for the night?”

“Yeah clarisse it’s getting late, we can find our bearings in the morning” her brother added.

“This is somewhere to settle for the night” Clarisse stated plainly, rolling her eyes when the two stared at her in confusion, “it’s a giant tower in the middle of nowhere with no doors…no one’s living up there”

“I don’t know Clarisse…I mean this is meant to be a satyr trail, surely someone’s up there” the boy tried to reason.

“Aren’t you curious?” Clarisse asked, “I know we came the right way, this part of the route is blocked off, there is literally no way we got lost”

She was right, this small section of the trail was hidden away, you could only get in and out through two small entrance/exits, covered by plant life to hide it off.

They had been through the secret path a million times and never once was the tower there.

“Well how do you expect we get up?” The girl asked in defeat.

Clarisse looks around for a moment, before grabbing the bag off of her back and pulling out two daggers and holding them up to the two.

“No” the elder boy stated, to which Clarisse turned and made her way towards the walls of the tower, grabbing onto the vines to test their strength, “no no no Clarisse stop it right now”

The girl ignored him, stabbing the dagger into the wall inbetween the cracks and using both of them and the vines to begin to pull herself up the wall.

“I swear to god Clarisse get down right now!”

“I’ll see if there’s another way to get up once I’m up there” Clarisse calls down to them as they stare at her dumbstruck.

“I’m gonna kill you when you get down!” he called up to her.

“I hate your sister” the blonde said to the boy nonchalantly, collapsing to sit on the floor and wait for the ares daughter to be done you her adventure so they could get to bed.

“Tell me about it” the boy replied glaring up at her as she made her way to the top.

Clarisse made her way up, using the, surprisingly strong vines and plants growing off of the tower as her main support on the way up.

Once she made it to the window she pulled herself up on to the ledge, looking down to see her quest mates sat on the ground talking, rolling her eyes at the sight.

She quietly forced the shutters of the large window open, stepping on the flower bed as she climbed through into the room.

🍊☀️🪷

You hadn’t heard anything while Clarisse had been climbing up the walls, busy in your room painting as she entered into the main room of the tower.

Your hair was laid around the different rooms, leading through doors and hanging from ceilings in an attempt to keep it out of your way, something Clarisse stared at in confusion as she quietly wondered around the room.

She was clearly wrong about no one living in the tower, there were candles and lights lit across the room, and a fire lit int he fireplace.

The kitchen was full of food and everything was relatively clean. And not to mention the yards and yards of hair laid across the place.

That’s what confused Clarisse the most, surely no human had this much hair.

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she stepped backwards, tripped on some of said hair and fell onto the floor, alerting you in the other room.

You heard the noise and turned around quickly, your hair curling round you slightly causing it to tug, getting caught underneath Clarisse and yank on your head slightly. Making you squeak in shock.

Clarisse heard this from the other room, her eyes widening as she looking towards the doors that someone clearly resided in.

Both of you grabbed your weapons, Clarisse clutching one of her daggers, and you running to grab a vase off of a cabinet. Inching your way towards the door that separated the two of you as Clarisse stood up.

Clarisse started to walk up the stairs towards the door as you walked down the hallway, both of you stopping at the door before Clarisse decided to push through it suddenly.

You screamed as the mystery girl collapsed on top of her, hair covering your face as you flailed about, trying to get her off of you as she try’s to find the dagger that she lost on the floor.

“Get off of me” you grunted, pushing the hair out of your eyes and attempting to push her off of you, “who are you?”

Clarisse finally finding her dagger, held it to your throat, causing you to stop fighting back, breathless and staring at the weapon in her hand with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” Clarisse retorted, glaring down at the girl as if she wasn’t the one breaking and entering.

“You’re in my home” you say back in shock, frowning at how the knife gets closer to you.

“And I’m holding the dagger…see how this works?” Clarisse tells you with a smirk, flipping it in her hand as she kept it near your throat.

“I-I’m y/n…” you replied slowly, not knowing what to tell her. Looking at her with wide eyes as she huffs in realisation that it wasn’t the most helpful question to ask.

“Well why do you live here?” Clarisse asks noticing the way the girl looked confused and adding, “I mean you’re in the middle of the forest in a tower with no doors…”

“And I mean what’s going on with your hair, it’s so long” Clarisse continued, “and who uses a vase as a weapon?”

You didn’t really know what to say to any of that, looking at her blankly.

“I…don’t know” you answered eventually, adding in a small voice, “can you please get off of me”

Clarisse sighed, getting up slowly but still holding the dagger pointed towards her as she did.

“Why are you in my house?” You asked meekly, staring at the dagger in fear. Clarisse rolled her eyes noticing your wariness, putting the dagger down to her side to try calm you down.

“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you try anything ok?” Clarisse stated, “I was just looking to see if we could stay the night in here, I didn’t realised anyone lived here or anything”

“We?”

“My friends, well not really my friends but, well they’re just outside” Clarisse told you, “why are you in a tower by yourself exactly? And seriously what’s going on with your hair”

“I just live here…I don’t know what you mean” you answered, “and I guess it’s just my hair…my mum says it’s special”

“Your mum? Special how what do you mean”

“I don’t know it just is” you said, “w-wait, no, I’m not meant to tell anyone that”

Clarisses eyebrows furrowed at that, looking at you as though you were an idiot causing you to blush at her.

“Why can’t you tell anyone about your hair…” Clarisse asked.

“Mummy said not to” you said hesitantly.

Clarisse smirked at that, only seconds ago you said you couldn’t tell anyone and yet here you were continuing on with the subject.

“And mummy is?” She asked condescendingly, something you didn’t pick up on as you went to answer.

“Ummm Persephone…” you responded simply.

“What?” Clarisse asked in confusion, looking at you like you were mad. Sure, she knew you couldn’t be mortal, but a demigod?

She supposed the flowers and plants in full bloom in autumn made sense by that, it didn’t quite explain the hair but she was sure it had something to do with that.

“You’re a demigod?” She asked in confusion.

“What?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at her, “what’s that?”

Clarisse stared at you for a moment, you felt like she was scrutinising your entire existence as she looked you up and down.

Suddenly she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the door, you stumbling as she continued down the stairs towards the main room of the tower and leaving you stood in the middle.

You watched her as she made her way to the window, opening it again and shouting down at her ‘friends’ she told you about earlier.

“It’s all safe” Clarisse shouted, before turning back to you, “do you have any rope?”

You looked at her in shock that she was just inviting people inside your home, speaking when she sent you a look of annoyance, “no?”

Clarisse looked around the room for a moment before settling on your hair that hung around the room, turning back to you with a new look in her eyes.

“You sure?” Clarisse asked, leaning down to pick up your hair and hold it up for you to see.

“W-what? No you can’t use my hair!” You told her, rushing forward to remove it from clarisses hands leaving you stood right in front of her.

She looked down at you with a smirk, taking the hair back, “come on, they won’t hang from it or anything, they just need something to hold for leverage to get up”

You rolled your eyes with a pout at that, looking up at her before walking towards the window, looking down at the two on the ground, who were now beyond confused at the blonde girl appearing.

You leant over to reach the walls of the tower then, Clarisse running over to hold on to you as you stumbled slightly, “be careful!”

You blushed feeling her hands on your hips, shaking yourself out of it and leaning down to touch the plants and vines attached to the stone.

Clarisse watched as the plants grew, covering the side of the wall all over and bits of vines hanging down for the two at the bottom to hold on to.

Once it was fully grown you turned back around to Clarisse, underestimating how close you both were when you did so.

You smiled up at the shocked look on her face, proud of yourself for figuring out a solution to the situation, hearing clarisses brother begin to scale up the side of the wall as you and Clarisse faced each other.

Taglist:

@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog @l0veshellarcelia @asvterias @ashisabitgay

Wanna rewatch tangled now 🤩

Pretty sure this is shit but oh well

[feyascorner]

10 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”

You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”

“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks, suggestive content!!!! (new warning hehe)

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. actual????? communication????? after 45k words?!?!?!?!?!? or is it...this chapter is literally them being loser teenagers i love them

To you, his touch is like a drug.

His breath, cool against your hot skin, presses against the shell of your ear as something dangerously close to a whine escapes your lips. You can feel him grin as he lowers his head and places a long kiss on your collarbone. His slender hands slide up your back, grinding you even closer than you already are as he mouths at every nook and cranny of your body. It’s almost like he wants to consume you whole. To drink you until all that’s left is a shuddering mess, your body still begging for his own.

White curls tickle your chin as the strings on your shirt finally come undone. His tongue brushes against the peak of your bare breast, and your eyes meet him in a lust-clouded haze, lips pursed as you swear you could reach your peak just by the way he looks at you. It’s so intimate, so vulnerable, so pleasurable that your eyes half close when the palm of his hand smooths against your clothed core.

He stills, lifting his head to kiss his way up to your neck again. As much as you want to beg him to resume what he’s been doing, he doesn’t let you. Instead, his fingers bring your face to his.

“Don’t hide from me.”

You shudder. You think you know plenty with how flushed your face is, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lowers back down your chest, grinning as he lays his cheek on your skin teasingly.

“If you look away, I’ll stop, my love.”

“Are you insane? Of course, he’s staying here!”

You lurch up from your pillow as the earth-shattering reality of the morning sun blares you awake. Cheeks burning, you rub at the bags under your eyes, humiliated in the face of nobody but yourself, as you hear more voices from downstairs. None of which even try to keep it quiet. You stare down at your legs, lips pursed.

Only still half-awake, you can practically feel his hands on your waist.

Curses. What are you? A prepubescent teen?

With a loud groan, you force yourself onto your feet. Considering how your dreams will only add to your stress, you might as well.

“Oh, thank gods you’re here. Tell him we’re not taking Astarion with us to the celebration, will you?” Shadowheart hisses as you descend the stairs, still half asleep. “Our wizard seems to have gotten the wrong idea about the leech upstairs.”

You swear Lae’zel snorts.

“It was only a suggestion. I wasn’t sure if we’d want to leave him alone here…isn’t that merely an invitation for him to run away?” Gale rubs his temple with his thumb, clearly exhausted.

You’re fully aware of Astarion’s nightly escapes into the city, but you don’t tell them that. It’s better not to cause a panic.

Shadowheart shrugs. “We’ll tie him to the counter. Hells, we can just lock him into the basement.”

Gale sighs. “He’s not a dog.”

“He acts like it,” Lae’zel grumbles, sinking her teeth into an apple.

“We could ask the Duke to spare some of his soldiers for the night. Make them keep watch while we’re at the party,” Shadowheart offers. “Anything to keep that dirtbag here instead of there. Isn’t that right, Tav?”

Gale’s eyes meet with yours. There’s a sort of expectancy in them that makes you squirm in your shoes as they bore straight into your soul as if he’s aware of your deepest secrets. There are bags under his eyes, surely from having to balance Astarion’s less-than-likable presence with all his other responsibilities in rebuilding the city. A part of you feels guilty for the work you’ve dropped on him, but both parties know it’s for the best.

It’s been made glaringly obvious that you and Astarion shouldn’t be anywhere around one another. It’s only a recipe destined to end in a yelling match or…

Your cheeks flare. Last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.

“We’ll keep him here. Lock him in his room like Shadowheart said,” You finally blurt. “Can you send the invitation back with everyone who’s going? I have someone to visit in a few minutes.”

“Very well,” the cleric smiles, obviously pleased with your decision. Gale only frowns. “I’m glad that’s settled.”

So are you.

You hear the door of Astarion’s room open upstairs and decide you shouldn’t stay any longer. After rushing goodbyes to your companions and another questioning glance from Gale, you scramble to fly out of the house, barely grabbing your bag in the process. The contents weigh more heavily than they usually do, and for good reason. Hopefully, younger vampires feed less than fully grown ones because otherwise, the squirrel you found the night before won’t be able to satiate Berry’s appetite.

It’s hard not to wonder how she’s doing for most of your day. You were initially planning to visit her last night until the unfortunate ambush Petras released onto your already sore limbs. Even now, you constantly rub at the ache of your thighs and arms. The healing potions did plenty, but they couldn’t do everything.

She must be starving, you think. You grit your teeth.

Fortunately for you, however, when you arrive at the Highberry residence, Berry seems perfectly fine. In fact, she’s helping her adopted siblings arrange decorative plants around the house, likely to liven up the place after what’s been happening the past few months. There’s a sense of calm here that doesn’t currently exist in your own household. The scene makes a soft smile pull at your lips, which is more than welcome.

“You didn’t visit last night,” the young girl finally says when you’re with her by the window, far enough from the siblings to be out of earshot. She looks up at you sheepishly. “I thought you might’ve gotten attacked.”

She picks at her fingers.

“Were you worried?” you stifle a laugh, and she shrugs, albeit flustered. “I brought you some—prey. You must be hungry.”

“Not really,” she still takes the worn sack and clutches it close to her. “I went out to find food by myself.”

At this, your eyes widen. “What? You left for the forest? You know that place is dangerous, Berry; it’s not safe for someone as young as you.”

“I’m a spawn. It’s probably safer for me than you,” she squints, and you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“...You’re still a child,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Where’d you learn to hunt anyway? The last time I checked, you could barely fight off a few forest animals.”

Her face flushes red, but she huffs regardless. “The haggard taught me.”

“Hag?...”

“Your friend,” Berry perches either of her arms on the windowsill, staring out at the passing civilians on the street. She whips her head to you and points at either of her fangs, opening wide. “He’s been teaching me to hunt with these.”

“Astarion?” you blink. “He taught you? Willingly?”

It’s rather hard to believe.

“No, I had to follow him. By the time he noticed, he didn’t have much of a choice,” she says proudly, puffing out her chest. Then she deflates again as if she just tasted something sour. “He got two big bears last night but wouldn’t share…So, I had to get my own squirrels because he told me I’d starve otherwise. That old hoot is selfish and mean.”

Well, it certainly sounds like him.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” you scold her gently.

“Maybe by him.”

You want to say that she’s wrong and that Astarion wouldn’t hurt her, but the blasted comb flashes back in your mind, and reality sits heavy in your throat. So, instead, you bite your tongue.

“Have you found any of them yet? The other spawn?” she pushes herself off the wall to stand straight.

“I did—if fighting them counts.”

Her face falls and a part of you regrets even alluding to what happened last night. She begins to fidget with the sharp ends of her nails again and stares at your shoes. “There’s too many of them.”

You’d most certainly know.

“We have the Fist fighting for us,” you assure her, albeit pathetically. Even in your own ears, you don’t sound entirely confident. “And besides, the murder count has been decreasing as of late. If we keep going at this rate, we won’t have more than a body every two weeks—”

“It won’t work that way, though. They’ll just keep coming back.”

Were children always this perceptive?

You’re not sure what to say.

She clenches her fists. “Not all of them are bad, you know.”

“I know, Berry. You’re not a bad person at all; it’s just that—”

“I meant the siblings,” she blurts, finally meeting your eyes. “Aurora…she was nice. She was nothing like Petras.”

Aurora?

You’re suddenly leaning down to her, shoulders tense. “You’ve met the other siblings? Since when?”

“Only once, months ago. Petras tried to convince the others to stay here with him, but they said no,” her brows furrow. “He was furious that day.”

Of course. Why didn’t you realize that earlier? Petras, Dalyria, and Leon were the only ones of the main spawn that remained in the city, and being so swept up with their antics, you’d forgotten to ponder on the motivations of the others. You swallow the dry lump in your throat as realization slaps you across the face.

“So not all of them want to go through with the ascension?” you gasp. Berry pauses but nods slowly. 

Help. You could ask them for help. Surely, if they don’t want another Cazador running rampant in the city, they’d be willing to stop the ritual as a whole. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek as your mind races. Were they even aware of what Petras was up to? How many lives he’d taken?

You take her hands to stop her from picking at them, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Berry, where are the other siblings?”

“They told Petras they were leaving for the Underdark like they promised you.”

Gods, bless this girl. Somehow, she’s been more helpful than any other resource you’ve had the past few months—including the Duke, and your vampire spawn. You’d think she might be a blessing from the heavens if it weren’t for all the other bullshit they’ve thrown your way as of late.

“Tell Cora I dropped by,” you smile brightly. Though it’s rare nowadays, you feel almost hopeful. “I’ll come back in a week. Stay put until then.”

By the time you realize how much time has passed being cooped up on your bedroom floor, the sun is already setting. You reach for a candle, flicking a match against the box before lighting a flame to illuminate the pages sprawled around you. In anyone else’s eyes, you might look nearly hysterical, but to you, it feels as if the weight of the entire city is on your shoulders again. In a way, you suppose it is. Unless you want more than just a couple dozen bodies on the city streets in a few months, that is.

Your eyes scan over Dalyria’s drawings for what seems like the millionth time. And for the millionth time, you find nothing. Since the last time you obsessed over her journal, there have been a few additions to your collection: some books on ascension, vampires, and, for some reason, a book on vampire lords. 

You’re not sure you see the point in picking up this particular book, considering the spawns’ master is long dead, which means none of them can become a true vampire unless they were to ascend—the exact scenario you’re trying to prevent. But perhaps spending an entire day at the library blossomed a newfound curiosity within you. 

There isn’t much in there you don’t already know from first-hand accounts Astarion would recall on the nights you couldn’t fall asleep. There are parts, however, regarding the vampire spawn they can compel that lure your attention.

“Vampire spawn were the masters of stealth and charismatic cunning,” you read mindlessly. “...vampire spawn would seek vengeance on their creators.”

Vengeance. Is that what it was when he tried to strangle you?

Your jaw clenches, and you feel a sort of buzzing on your lips. What an asshole.

Quickly, you shut the book with a slam as you decide that dwelling on information you’re already well accustomed to is a waste of time. You’d likely be a better source of knowledge than the book itself because of how basic its contents tend to be.

You stare at the cover, which simply illustrates a set of fangs. Cliche, you think, but it’s effective.

The room suddenly feels too quiet.

Fortunately, the uncomfortably loud growling of your stomach snaps you out of your trance.

Shoving the book under your bed, you swing the door to your room open to pace to the kitchen. Hopefully, there’s some dinner left over from last night—-worst-case scenario, you have to eat one of those days-old fruits gathered in the bowl on the counter. You don’t have much time to ponder, though, because you hear a familiar groan from downstairs as soon as you reach the top of the stairs.

“Will you please stop leaving dead animals in the cabinet? As grateful as I am that you’re feeding on them rather than our friends, it bloody reeks, Astarion!”

Shit.

Astarion stares up at you with wide eyes on his way up to his room while you blink down at him wearily. Gale continues to mutter mindlessly about whatever trouble the spawn has caused in his sacred kitchen, but Astarion doesn’t seem to pay him any heed. You feel naked under his gaze, but you think putting on at least four more layers of clothing wouldn’t even scratch the surface of how you feel.

“Good morning,” he blurts.

He never greets you. Not like this, anyway.

It’s not even morning.

Fortunately, he looks just as confused at his words as you do.

Searching for a response that won’t come to you, you refer to the lamest solution. A scapegoat, if you will. “I need to walk past you.”

Astarion immediately nods. “Right. Yes, of course.”

He stands to one side of the narrow stairs, and you cautiously squeeze past him. Has it always been this much of a struggle to fit two people on the stairs? It’s terribly awkward as you shuffle by, holding the air in your lungs in hopes that he doesn’t recognize how uneven your breath is. You’re sure he does, but it was worth a try anyway.

Suddenly, Gale is standing at the bottom of the stairs in front of you.

“Where are you going? I thought you needed a healing potion for your stomach,” he aims at Astarion with a raised brow.

The said spawn coughs. You almost choke on the air.  “No, I—I’m alright now.”

“Are you sure? That bruise was pretty nasty, my friend. Letting something like that fester will surely only hinder you…”

Astarion closes the door to his room. Slams, more like.

You glance at Gale pitifully, who only crosses his arms with a sigh as he turns to return to the kitchen. “He’s moodier than I was when I was going through puberty.”

Wordlessly, you trail behind him until he resumes whatever dish he’s cooking up inside a pot while you reach for an apple. There’s a comfortable silence as you perch yourself on the counter, legs gently swinging as you chew, cringing whenever you feel a mushier part of the fruit. Gale lifts his ladle to his nose and takes a quick sniff before nodding in satisfaction. He then puts the lid over the pot.

“I’ve never seen Astarion as awkward as he was earlier,” he comments, and you cough.

“He wasn’t that charming in the first place,” you grumble.

“I never said he was charming. Just that he isn’t awkward.”

“Maybe he’s still drunk from last night,” you scoff, blood boiling at the mere thought of how he acted. A strange sense of pride spreads through you, knowing you hit him hard enough to do some damage, but you still think you could’ve hit harder. All those months pent up should’ve garnered far more strength, surely.

“Or perhaps it’s from the kiss.”

You do choke on your apple this time.

After you wheeze out whatever apple chunks were lodged in your throat, your head whips in the wizard’s direction. “Gale, you–”

“It wasn’t voluntary, I’ll have you know,” he cuts in, crossing his arms. “I just happened to leave one of my books on the couch, which I only wished to retrieve for my nightly routine of reading at least 100 pages.”

You’re at a loss for words. Your face deepens in color, even as you beg it not to.

“I, of course, being the most fortunate lad I am, had to walk into the room when his tongue was halfway down your throat.”

You nearly shriek. “There was no tongue!”

“Well, that’s certainly a relief!” he laughs. “I likely would have had to pry my eyes out with one of Lae’zel’s swords otherwise!”

On any other occasion, you’d bite back at him, but you’re too busy drowning in your own humiliation to register half of his words. A blessing and a curse in this case.

“It didn’t mean anything!” you blurt, even though he never really asked. “It was—he kissed me. I punched him afterward, too.”

Gale raises a brow. “Really? It appeared to me that you were kissing back, though it might have just been the angle. Quite passionately, too, but that might’ve been the trick of the light…”

You slap your palms over your ears, praying to the gods that he shut his mouth for once in his damn life. “It didn’t mean anything!”

“Does he know that?”

“He hates me! And he’s kissed hundreds of people—I doubt one stupid kiss even bothers him.”

“Yes, but it’s a kiss from you. His ex-lover,” Gale shoots back. “And he doesn’t seem unbothered. Neither of you do.”

“So what?” You know exactly what, but it’s difficult to acknowledge at the moment.

“Tav,” Gale says carefully. “If you’ve—by any chance—begun to grow accustomed to his presence again…and I don’t blame you at all, by the way. I’ve become rather fond myself of forcing him to listen to magic lectures that nobody else is willing to listen to; however…if it’s becoming something more on your end–”

“It’s not,” your tone is more stern this time. Colder. “It never will be.”

“Really?”

“Do I need to punch him again for you to believe me?”

“That’s not quite what I’m getting at. I just witnessed the tension between the two of you, and it would be irresponsible of me as a friend if we didn’t work through what you’re feeling before things start to get out of hand.”

You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “There is no tension, Gale!”

“Now now, I might not be the most experienced out of all of us in romantic affairs, but I’ve had my fair share of them. With a goddess, no less! It would be wise if you heeded my advice and discussed what the kiss meant to both of yo–”

You clap a hand over his mouth, words gritting through your teeth. “Stop saying it!”

His response comes out muffled against your palm.

“Fine, I’ll talk to him. I’ll go up to him right now and tell him how I’ll bury him alive if he tries anything again. Would that be enough to shut you up?” 

Gale smiles. You don’t return it.

The angry march up to Astarion’s room should’ve been enough to wake up your other companions, but it doesn’t. You knock heavily on his door, foot tapping impatiently as you glare at Gale, who stands halfway up the stairs, grinning from ear to ear in a pathetic attempt to be encouraging. It only makes you want to shrink into your shirt.

When Astarion fails to answer after multiple knocks, you decide you have no time for this. “I’m coming in. Please don’t be naked.”

The door doesn’t even have a lock. His room is empty except for the cold air that hits your cheeks. You realize that the window is swung wide open, allowing the moonlight to pour onto the wooden floors where he’s left his cloak in favor of what you assume to be usual nightwear. You pull the door behind you and cautiously step into his room, eyes glazing over the rest. It’s a stark contrast from your own. Despite how much time he spends in it, there isn’t a speck of dust or an article of laundry where it shouldn’t be. His bed is neatly made, his chair pushed into his desk, and if it weren’t for his books organized on his desk, you’d think nobody even lives here.

You slowly inch toward the window, running your fingertips over his books. They’re worn but somehow still well taken care of. You can feel how old they are, yet their pages remain perfectly intact, without a single crease on any corners. 

When you reach the window, you finally notice the vines growing on the sides of the building that protrude just over the window sill. You hear soft thumps from the ceiling, resembling the pace of his footsteps. Or at least, what do you think they’d sound like if he made any sounds while walking.

The asshole knows you’re here. Of course, he does.

With a wary glance at the vines, you firmly grip both hands on the roots and slowly lift yourself off the windowsill. Thankfully, the stones making up the building make for good boosters to haul you up toward the rooftop, even though your instincts suggest you’d likely fall and die an unfortunate death here. Still, somehow, you manage to haul yourself onto the roof's edge with a final groan.

You slump rather unceremoniously onto the angled edge, and the slight snicker from the other occupant of the space doesn’t go unnoticed. You glare at him, and Astarion only grins, leaning back on both elbows. “Should I have lent you a hand?”

“I can climb a wall, thanks,” you snap, crawling to a spot that allows you to lie back and stay a generous distance away from the vampire spawn. The tiles of the roof feel cool against your skin. From only two stories up, you can see a full four streets further than you usually can from your window, where only a few people now shuffle through the city given the time of night. While you think it should be peaceful here, all you can focus on is the undead individual lying a good few feet away from you, staring up at the sky rather than the city.

“As much as I enjoy all the colorful insults you throw at me, I was hoping for some peace tonight,” he finally says.

“This is my rooftop that I paid for. I’ll go where I please.”

Astarion sighs, his eyes still gazing up at the stars. “Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence tonight? If it’s about the dead animals, I’ve already told Gale I’d store them outside from now on—”

“Last night didn’t happen.”

There. It’s like a weight off your chest. At least, it should feel that way.

He stops, moving to stare from the stars to you. “And since when could you manipulate the very essence of time?”

“Don’t get smart with me unless you want another repeat of yesterday. Maybe I’ll knock out a fang this time,” you hiss.

“The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”

You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”

“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”

This boils your blood just enough for you to tear your gaze away from him and back onto the city. “Just forget it happened.”

“Must I?”

“Yes! It was clearly a lapse of judgment!”

“It was,” he affirms. From the corner of your eye, you can see him put his chin against the palm perched on his elbow, fully turning on his side to face you. “An exciting one. I thought I knew you well enough that I could trust you would never kiss me again.”

You glower. “I was bleeding half to death—I was barely conscious. For all I know, I thought you might’ve been someone else.”

You can both hear the obvious lie in the statement, but neither points it out.

“I do wish you’d stop doing that,” he mutters, staring through lidded eyes. “It’s hard not to pay you any attention when you constantly smell like fresh bait. It’s like seeing an entire feast before you but being unable to have a taste.”

“Yes, because I wanted to get attacked by your brother.”

“Right. That.”

He stares up at the sky again. Hells, if he stares any harder, you’d think his damn eyeballs would fall out. His white curls blow gently against the breeze, and from here, it appears like nighttime was really made for him. Or do all vampires just glow during the night?

“For all it is, I’m truly sorry.”

Your eyes resemble barrels as you turn to look at him. He’s now occupied with his hands—those flawless hands of his that, by some miracle, don't have a single scar on them even after all the two of you have been through. Those very same hands you’ve once loved and that you’ve grown to hate.

“I, of all people, should know what it feels like to have someone forced upon me. And if I had any sort of control over my body at the time, I assure you what happened last night wouldn’t have happened.”

Though it’s not the main point of his apology, you find yourself focusing on the implications. He would’ve never kissed you if he was sober. You know this—you’ve known this—so why you’re so preoccupied by this confession, you have no idea. Internally kicking yourself, you steel your mind to remain calm. He hates you. You hate him. Simple. You only notice, moments later, that he’s still talking.

“---and I’m aware we aren’t on good terms,” he says, softer. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stoop down to the levels of the dirtbags I had to deal with for two centuries. I might have questionable morals about all else, but in that aspect, I’m unlike them.”

Still wide and unblinking, your eyes slowly relax as you soak in his words. It’s been a while since you’ve heard him so sincere (in a manner that isn’t insulting), and it feels like a breath of fresh air. For a moment, you want to deceive yourself that you’d never reached Baldur’s Gate. That you and your companions are still camping in the woods, and Astarion is still only learning to care for another. That he never went to Cazador’s palace, and you never needed to stop the ascension.

You would’ve indulged in such fantasies months ago, but now, they feel too artificial to derive joy from them. They feel too hollow. Fake. Like biting into a poisoned apple. You can sense him waiting for your response, and it takes a moment, but you manage to mumble it out. “It’s fine. I did kiss you back. We were both not in our right minds. Just…forget it happened.”

You don’t know how to decipher the look in his eyes, but you’ve long given up on how to do it in the first place. Because every time you think you finally understand him, it turns out to be a mask or a plot to deceive you. And every time, you don’t see it coming. It’s better not to try at all because it means he has no way to lie to you in the first place.

“Very well,” he says numbly. “It never happened.”

Both your heads turn to look up at the dark sky. The stars twinkle overhead, glistening in their own respectful glories. There’s one in particular that shines the brightest, floating right beside another that dims compared to all the other stars. It seems to drag behind the brighter star like a shadow, always following but never truly acknowledged.

You pity it.

“Why did you quit music?” he asks suddenly. “I thought it was…your passion.”

“I can’t see the beauty in it anymore,” you say simply.

Astarion hums. “A shame. I was rather fond of your lyre.”

The brightest star almost appears to move again. The darker one trails right behind.

You raise your brow. “Is this where you run off to every night? To stargaze? It’s pretty, but doesn’t it get boring?”

“It’s not pretty at all, darling,” he grins, attention never leaving the sky. “I watch every night, hoping that the dimmer star dies out before the brighter one notices it’s there.”

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[kizzer55555]

Ultimate Escape Room

Sam, Danny, and Tucker are bored. Nothing seems to be a challenge anymore. Summer vacation is coming up but they can’t agree on anything . Themepark? What’s a better roller coaster than Jack driving? Scary movie? I’m sorry, nothing beats Fright Knight’s nightmare realm. Bungie jumping? Danny can fly. Then Tucker, who’s been typing on his computer, asks “what about an escape room?”. The others are about to shut the idea down because seriously? Easy. But Tucker just grins and shows them his computer screen.

“Ever heard of Arkham?”

Danny and Sam lean over to read the description and all three turn to each other and grin. 

Now, what’s the fastest way to get into Arkham?

…

So the chaos trio do ✨something✨ that gets them locked up in Arkham and then try to escape and they keep. You know, normal stuff for Arkham inmates. Except this trio? Keep. Getting. Out. Of. Their. Cells. So they are just passing by locked up rogues and waving at them as an army of prison guards chase after them. Sure they could get out the easy way (Aka powers) but no, this is a challenge so they have the normal rules of an escape room. Aka, you can’t break anything and an extra rule where if a guard catches you, then you can’t fight back (also, no one can get hurt). (They make fake identities and everything). So they need to go through the whole process. Figure out how to unlock cuffs. Could be learning to pick a lock with a spoon/stick/long nails. Then find the keys. Possibly having to crawl through vents to get in the warden’s office. Or making deals with prison inmates. Like, I’ll get this for you if you give me that (however they extract a promise that the rogue can’t kill anyone with whatever they help them with.) So they are in prison literally doing errands like find freeze’s weapons in exchange for him telling them the passcode to the gate or something. Or getting Waylon some meat from the cafeteria and he’ll break the lock on this movable vault that has materials to make smoke bombs they can use to distract the front guards. 

These kids are just going wild and it gets to the point where Arkham has to call the bats (like no Waylon, we won’t escape with you, we have to do it without breaking any walls!) So literally the only reason they are not escaping is because they want to do it ‘right’. But they are also aiding other rogues in their escape (at least certain ones. They aren’t helping joker no matter what he offers)

It’s driving the bats mad. They have vigilantes stationed in each hall, in multiple monitor rooms.

They aren’t even using anything clever to block the cameras. They’re using mirrors. Mirrors! Where did they even get so many handheld mirrors! 

They are running circles around the bats. The escaped rogues literally aren’t doing anything yet because they want to see how the three hellions will escape the entire bat clan. They have bets going. So there is a temporary truce.

Just imagine the conversations/interrogations the bats will have with trio, trying to figure out their master plan - because surely there's something more going on than three chaos young adults playing a game, right?

They trio each have a different story. And they are so passionate/convincing actors that no one knows which story is real. At least one of them told a sob story with legitimate tears.

Danny: (all mysterious) You shall never know our master plan….until it is too late. And just casually dropping hints that there is something greater or that the bats are playing right into their hands. Even using ridiculous scenarios like yesss the ketchup explosion in the cafeteria….We are one step further….Mwa ha ha! (Rubs his hands together)

Sam: (absolutely distraught with literal tears running down her face and ruining her mascara.) There is a terrible organization holding their parents hostage. They had been framed and forced to be in Arkham. If they don’t do exactly as they are told, their loved ones are in danger! Should we stay? Should we escape and help them!? No one will believe us and what if we make things worse? We don’t know what to do!

Tucker: (takes a long slurp of a smoothie. Where he got one? No one knows). Yeah we were bored and had nothing better to do than mess with you guys. (Sluuuuurp).

The bats are trying to figure it out. Is the black haired guy telling the truth and the other two are just manipulating them? Is it the girl and the others are only following the plot of the organization? IS THE BARET KID RIGHT AND THEY’RE JUST MESSING WITH US!? WHICH STORY IS IT!?

Under normal circumstances, Sam wouldn’t give a sob story because It’s not really her vibe. But Sam has the opportunity to pull one over on a bat. Do you honestly think she won’t take a chance to mess with them? Also, Dick is the one who is interrogating Sam.

He’s crying too by the end of the story.

Poor guy, Sam will play his heart like a fiddle. 

Also, their fake identities are Jordan for Danny. Mortica for Sam (or Macey for short) and Phineas for Tucker. The fact that they are using fake identities is the only thing they all agree on in the interview. But the bats find nothing on them and the identities are so realistic they wonder if they are even fake at all. If the three are faking fake IDs to throw them off their tail from looking deeper. Apparently their ‘parents’ having a missing persons report.

Damian is interrogating Danny. It’s just so easy to rile him up and get under his skin. It’s absolute drama in that interrogation room. 

Danny: ah yessss. Master plan.

Damian: you shall never succeed! Justice shall prevail evil scum!

And Duke is interrogating Tucker. He just…has no idea how to respond to this. He wasn’t trained for this response. Hostile, yes. Mysterious, yes. Scared, yes. Civilian, yes. Even Flirtatious! YES! But not…this. What does he do? should he take out his note cards?

Also, I’m adding a mix of home alone elements to this. They have to get past the bats somehow and it can’t be lethal. Poor Jason and Steph who are patrolling the halls fall victim to most of this.

At one point, both of them are tied up together and hanging from the ceiling. While the trio just casually walk by under them. 

It’s dental floss. Really strong dental floss.

Then the bats start taking sides. 

Jason? once he hears Sam's story, he's immediately willing to help her. He and Dick are searching for that missing person's report almost religiously.

Tim believes Danny's story. part of it is because it makes the most sense, and the other part is that he's slightly biased from becoming an evil megalomaniac in every timeline he's seen so he's subconsciously trying to stop that from happening here.

Cass believes Tucker because come on, it's Cass.

Steph is siding with Tim because her father was cluemaster so same reasons.

Bruce is trying to fact check all of them and is failing desperately.

Sam added some ‘clues’ in her interrogation and basically threw the GIW under the bus as the organization. So the bats do find a shady organization but so far no missing persons so the other bats still don’t know if what Sam is saying is true or not while Dick takes this as absolute proof and Jason feels like it doesn’t matter if she’s telling the truth at this point. It’s a corrupt organization. So he’ll still blow it up.

I think in this AU, the GIW isn’t a threat and more of an annoyance so Sam just plays them up as even worse. Like, she doesn’t say anything untrue just makes it sound worse out of context. Oh yeah, they opened fire on this random kid. (Gregory when they thought he was phantom) Oh yes, they have destroyed Danny’s house at one point. (The prank war with Vlad) Yes, the have an unhealthy obsession with dissecting people. (Even though they are too incompetent to actually catch anyone).

So again, they don’t know if Sam is telling the truth of the organization or they just used this random organization to draw their attention away from the three’s plans (as Danny implied). Possibly an enemy organization or a competitor.

I know everyone makes the GIW a big threat but I decided to change it up. They aren’t a threat but still get obliterated by a pissed off Red Hood and Nightwing.

And that’s  another reason why Sam gives the sob story. Danny and Tucker are great but they wouldn’t actually sick a crime lord on the GIW. Sam? Absolutely would. She does not care what happens to them. They tore up her garden one time with a stray shot. She wants revenge. And sure, she didn’t actually know what would happen to them after the bats find out but she still doesn’t care.

And through all of this, the rogues are sitting back and eating popcorn while Joker screams bloody murder from his cell. 

[eccentricallygothic]

YOU KNOW PARTY GIRL? The fix you wrote with ari? 😭😭 it was SOO good OML..

I was wondering if you could make a tiny little imagine if that version of ari caught you running away to get out of punishment 🤭🤭

First of all, thank you so much for reading and enjoying Party Girl, I appreciate you popping in here to give me your sweet feedback! Now, of course I can do that. Punishment and bratting are my top kinks! I am aware this is rather late but I really hope you still enjoy!

Sorry Brat

Warning(s): Ddlg, power imbalance, Daddy!Ari, Baby!You, m!dom, f!sub, couple tussling, running kink, chase kink, minor spanking, allusions to corporal punishment, manhandling, Ari is a giant, age gap, pet names.

.

"Oh, yes" much to your horror, Ari took your phone out from his other pocket now. "Your phone, how could I forget?" Unlocking the screen showing a picture of you two cuddled up on a camping trip, Ari tapped on your Snapchat app. "I am so proud of you for following all your rules and studying hard yesterday, baby" he said as he tapped through your many stories from last night before swiping to story settings to find him crossed out.  

You tried to speak but no words came out. How could they? When you had just been caught red handed like this? Ari wasn't stupid and the evidence of your delinquency laid right there in his huge palm.

So you did the only thing your mind deemed appropriate in the moment.

Wordlessly spinning towards the first route of escape you could calculate in this moment, it being the space between the large couch -that he was seated on- and the single seater placed beside it in a L shaped fashion, you pushed away the arm he had around your waist before you took off. 

Ari chuckled softly at your unrelenting audacity before he spread his muscular legs as he leaned back against the cushion after placing your phone on the coffee table. He turned his face in the direction you had dashed in, snaking his fingers through his luscious brown locks before he called out to you.  

“Really?” The male pushed the silky hair away from his face. “Let’s see how far you can get this time around, little bunny” yes, this wasn't the first time you had pulled this stunt. It was stupid. Because you already knew it was a futile attempt; a losing game before it had even begun. 

The first time you had done this, Ari had told you that he was inevitable before he had made you cry on his knee. With each spank he has assured you that you could never escape him. 

Not really. 

Ari sighed as he pushed his giant form off the couch and stood up to his full height, which was only a few inches shy of 7’. “Now that you have chosen to go about it like this, you better make sure I never find you, little girl” if not for the hellfire that was sure to be unleashed on your scared little ass upon getting caught, his words would have excited you.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you slowly peeked with one eye to see where he was. The apartment wasn't too big and your roommates' rooms were occupied. So that left you with the kitchen that was opposite of the little hallway where your rooms were and on the other side of the living room. 

As you saw Ari's huge form move about the main room with faux ignorance of your whereabouts, you felt like kicking yourself. You were such an idiot. First you had pissed him off by breaking his rules and then had lied about it, next you had chosen to away from him only to do so in a direction from where you couldn't even move anywhere else.

You facepalmed at your own stupidity before you scrambled forwards when he went to the kitchen just for the fun of it and looked there. That allowed you the time to hurriedly crawled to the couches and hide behind one. Ari had literally seen you run to your room, so staying there just wasn't an option anymore. As a result, you had no choice but come into the heart of the danger; the living room.

“Here, little bunny, come out, come out wherever you are~” Ari loved it when you put up a bratty little fight. That was why he was enjoying this. Because crushing and beating that rebellious resolve out of you -or rather, your ass- when he finally caught you was the best part for him. And Ari always caught you. So this useless little revolt from you made the catharsis of his rage even more satisfying.

It was like hunting game for slaughter. 

You had to press your palm to your mouth to mute your panting when he returned to the living room, a devilish smirk on his face as he walked with a slow and heavy foot, ripped arms held behind his back.

“Maybe she's here…” He ducked under a table and swished away the net drape that covered it. A cruel, deep chuckle left him when he didn't find you there. “Or… maybe here!” You jumped from the force he used to push the coats hanging on the livingroom coat hanger away. His shoulders shook in silent mirth when he didn't find you there as well.

The more Ari moved around the room, the more you followed suit from behind the couches, watching him with risky peeks every now and then to make sure you were still undetected.

“Ah!” Ari exclaimed when he approached the beginning of the hallway leading to your room. “That must be it!” You felt momentary relief wash over you as you lowered yourself behind the couch from where you were raised on your haunches. Placing a hand over your erratic heart, you sighed as quietly as you could manage and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

Taking a quick glance in the direction of the kitchen, you willed your tired mind to work. Ari had already checked it. So perhaps you could hide in there. And just maybe, by some miracle, the next time you’d see Ari some of his anger would have subsided. 

Yes, it couldn't be denied due to ample proof that doing stuff like this only sunk you into more trouble, but the almighty what if was a comfort in times of your self-inflicted anxieties.

Eyeing the kitchen, you raised yourself back up and placed your palm against the back of the couch to peek behind him one last time before you'd make your move. That was it. That was how you were going to make it out of this. Yes. It was a decent plan if you said so yourself.

But then…

“Hi” Ari's grin was nothing short of pure evil and your eyes widened as you gasped loudly when you finally looked only to come face to face with your pursuer. His huge form was hunched over the couch, causing him to appear as a cunning hawk, and you realized just now that he had become quiet– too quiet a short while ago. Your body went flying backwards in a defensive shock, everything went in slow motion, you spun around once more as a last ditch effort but alas! 

There was only so much luck a little girl could have.

“Oh, no!” Your smaller legs kicked furiously in the air as Ari scooped you up from behind by your underarms and effortlessly brought you to himself over the couch. Everything clicked back into motion in the present moment, breaking your mental state of slow motion. 

“Oh, yes” mock laced his tone as he sat down and threw you over his lap, giving you an initiating spank to get you to buck up.

You had a long day ahead of you.