#they are so hot . . . what else am i supposed to do but jerk off to them

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie

word count: 3.4k

Part 2

a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.

What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.

His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.

And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.

You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.

Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.

‘SHIT!’

‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’

‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’

‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’

You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.

‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’

You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.

Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.

“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”

“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.

“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.

“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”

“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.

“Try. Me.” You challenge back.

Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”

You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.

“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else. 

Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.

You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.

You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.

The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.

The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.

---

You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.

Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.

The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.

“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.

“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”

Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”

“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.

“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.

“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”

“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”

“You mean for you?”

“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”

“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.

“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.

“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”

Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”

I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.

---

Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.

He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.

Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.

“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.

“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”

Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.

“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.

You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”

“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.

“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.

Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.

You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.

You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.

His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.

Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.

Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.

The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat  a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.

Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.

“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.

“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”

“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”

You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”

“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.

He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.

Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.

Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.

“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.

Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.

Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.

You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.

He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.

“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You giggle.

“Brat,” He mumbles back.

“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.

How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.

But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 5 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Jake can't pinpoint why he feels the need to make you understand that you're special. Or maybe he can, but he's too afraid to admit it to himself. You are completely out of your depth, but you know you'd rather drown with Jake than be with anyone else right now.

Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, cum play, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

Jake was surpassing all of your expectations. You were already three orgasms deep on the weekend, and you just met him less than a day ago. He was sweet and handsome, and right now he was kissing your lips softly on his couch as he held you tight. You couldn't help but smile against his mouth as the sticky coating of his cum spread from your tummy to his hard abs as you and he made out at a luxurious pace.

He was taking charge, but he never made you feel small or stupid for your lack of experience. He just didn't seem like that kind of person. And besides, you did manage to turn him on for the third time, and instead of letting him sneak away, you got him to stay put on the couch with you.

"Were you really going to try to jerk off alone again?" you asked as he kissed his way down the side of your neck.

"Mmhmm. You caught onto that, did you?" You felt his tongue trail along your skin before he said, "Wasn't about to make you feel obligated to take care of it for me in any way."

Okay, so Jake was kind of a gentleman. So much so that he still hadn't fucked you. And he still hadn't told you when he was planning to. The crazy thing was, you now understood that he could probably make you come a dozen other ways that didn't involve his cock at all. You were impressed. You were also a little sad that once you and he did get around to that little matter of eliminating the fact that you were still a virgin, you'd be on your way.

"Are you sore, Darlin'?" he asked, setting butterflies off in your belly. "I was a little rough with my fingers."

You moaned softly and tipped your head back. "It felt amazing. I liked it."

"I'm glad," he crooned. "But if you're sore, you could take a bath."

You perked up even more. A bath in his big tub sounded delightful, and once you started moving, you realized you were a bit more sore than you originally thought. "I want a bath," you told him, and you left a mess of his tacky cum on him when you stood up. You suddenly remembered you were completely naked and covered in his semen as you ducked your face away from him and muttered, "I wasn't sure what the texture was going to be like. It's really sticky all over me now."

Jake stood and pulled you close again. "Gets messier and harder to clean up when it starts to dry. But you didn't seem to mind me coating you up since it was your idea in the first place."

You pressed your lips together and muttered, "I never saw a guy come in real life before. I was curious. And it was so hot."

Something like possessiveness flashed in his eyes. "And then, to my surprise, you started playing with it," he added with a dangerous smirk, and you turned away from him in embarrassment, because maybe you weren't supposed to do that at all. "Do you hear me complaining?" he asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder. "That was some advanced level kinky stuff. Just wasn't expecting it. But I am not complaining. Let's get you in the bath."

Jake kept his arm around your waist as he led you back to his bedroom and then to the en suite bathroom where he cranked on the hot water before turning to look at you in all his naked glory. "I'm going to grab myself a beer for bathtime. Something about hot water and a cold beer is very satisfying, and maybe you can learn all about it after your next birthday. You want another crystal goblet of ice water?"

Your brow furrowed. "You're taking a bath with me?"

He raised one eyebrow and took a step away from you. "Unless you don't want me to."

Once again, you were surprised by him, but not disinterested in the idea of having him join you in the tub. "I want you to."

He half smiled in response. "And the goblet of ice water?"

"Yes, please," you told him with an eye roll. Then he was gone, and you were left with the soothing sound of the tub filling up while you went in search of a washcloth. You found some in the small closet just inside the bathroom door. Along with extra towels, razor blades, and a half empty box of extra large condoms.

Of course he would have them. He brought you home which meant he probably did the same thing every weekend. Maybe he even had more than one girl each weekend. One for Friday night and one for Saturday night. Maybe he'd fuck you and then offer to drive you home soon so he could go back to the bar tonight and find someone more his speed. Someone who knew that condoms came in different sizes.

You couldn't let yourself get jealous or sad, because there was no point in it. This was practically a business deal. Jake was helping you get ready for Cooper while he got his rocks off as many times as he wanted to. No more, no less.

"Here you go."

You startled a bit as Jake held out your wine glass filled with ice water, and he took a long sip from his bottle of Sam Adams. "Thanks," you whispered, and then he pressed his cold lips to your forehead before nodding at the tub.

"Get in and get comfy."

--------------------------------

Jake had never shared his bathtub with anyone. Soaking in the hot water until it was almost too cool to stand was one of his guilty pleasures that he never planned on letting someone else experience, too. He usually brought a beer in with him. One time he drank an entire bottle of champagne. But he always did it alone. Until today, apparently. Something about the way his cum was drying on your skin while you kissed him made him want to take the time to clean you up. And he also realized by how his wrist felt that he'd gone pretty hard with his fingers.

You looked too fucking cute with the steamy water up to your shoulders while you sipped from the condensation coated stemware. But you were quieter than you had been in the living room, which bothered him, because he had gotten used to your constant chattering and your smartass comments.

He slipped one foot into the hot water, and you scooted a little further forward. When he had both feet in, he eased himself down until he was sitting with you tucked between his legs. But you were facing away from him, so he couldn't see your face as he asked, "Is the temperature okay for you?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, sipping your ice water.

He leaned back against the tub and took another sip of beer, but you remained where you were. "You comfy?" he asked.

"Yes," you whispered, your back still to him.

"Well, I'm not," he said blandly.

"What's wrong?" you asked right away, turning to look at him over your shoulder, finally letting him see your pretty face.

"You're all the way over there." 

Jake reached for your hip under the water, wrapped his hand around you, and pulled you closer to him. Your eyes went wide, and you turned to brace your hand against his chest. Some of your cold drink splashed onto him, but he just muttered, "That's better," while you set the glass down on the edge of the tub.

"You could have just asked me to scoot closer."

Jake studied you and took another long sip of his beer before setting it down next to your glass. "You haven't complained once when I've touched you."

"I'm not complaining," you whispered, so he stroked your waist, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. "I'm just wondering when you're going to fuck me." 

He kissed your forehead as you looked up at him. "You're playing by my rules, remember?" he muttered.

"You don't have to be so sweet just for me." Jake's fingers froze on your body as you added, "Unless you're always like this? Making breakfast for your overnight guests? And cuddling in the bathtub? I guess that makes more sense."

But he wasn't always like this, and he wanted to tell you that. But he knew he didn't have the right to say anything at all when you really only needed him for one purpose. Once you got what you wanted from him, you'd be gone.

"Are you always this sweet?" you whispered, wet fingers wrapped around the back of his neck as you looked up at him through your lashes. 

He licked his lips and shook his head. "I don't think I've ever been quite this sweet before." When you finally smiled again, your eyes softened, and Jake kissed the bridge of your nose. "You might as well get comfortable, because I don't get out until the water's cold."

"Cold!" you complained as he held you tighter. "You expect me to stay here until it's cold?"

"Mmhmm." He took another sip of his beer. "And I expect you to tell me what kind of pizza you want for dinner, too. And why don't you tell me what you're studying in school while you're at it. And how you usually spend your weekends."

"I'm staying for dinner?"

Jake sighed and let his head tip back. "I don't think I can fuck you until I've taken you on a proper date. So... will you have dinner with me at my dining room table?"

"Yes."

-------------------------

A proper date. The words were bouncing around in your mind even as Jake stretched out on his couch in his gym shorts while you were almost completely on top of him, wearing his clothes. "You're wrong," you told him, shaking your head and pushing his hair off his forehead. "You have the wrong opinion about pineapple on pizza, and I refuse to believe I'm the first person who has ever told you so."

His hand on your butt flexed as he laughed. "Nobody else would dare. Except for you. Go ahead. Tell me what else I'm wrong about."

"Well," you said with a huff of pretend annoyance, "you ate your eggs sunny side up this morning. Wrong. And you didn't already have your bedroom window open to listen to the sound of the ocean last night. Wrong." You paused for a beat before saying what you'd been thinking about for a while. "I would say you're wrong about needing extra large condoms, but I did see and feel you, so maybe you do. Not wrong."

His deep laughter rumbled through his chest, and you jostled slightly on top of him. "You found my stash in the bathroom?" he asked, but he didn't sound annoyed.

"I was looking for a washcloth."

He hummed and asked, "How many condoms are left in the box? I haven't checked in a couple weeks."

"About half." You looked him in his pretty green eyes. "Does that mean you haven't had sex in a couple weeks? Or that you just haven't been using condoms?"

"I always use condoms," he replied immediately with a little nod, and you believed him. "Lesson seven: never skip a condom. Guys are pigs. Don't let them cut corners."

He kissed the corner of your mouth, but all you could say was, "So you haven't had sex in a little while?"

Jake nodded again. "Was getting a little sick of the bar crowd, to be honest. At least until you dropped your fake. Kicking tag chasers out of my bed in the middle of the night isn't much fun anymore."

"What's a tag chaser?" you asked, running your fingers through his soft hair.

His cheeks tinted with pink as he said, "Women who go after guys in the military. Some of them think it's fun to 'collect' tags. Some of them are hoping to trap a guy for the marriage benefits. Different reasons. Same name. And you absolutely can't let them spend the night with you."

You wanted to laugh, because this actually sounded like your roommate, Kylie. But then you remembered why you went to that particular bar in the first place and who you were originally looking for. Your eyes went wide. "Wait. Am I a tag chaser?"

Now he was hooting with laughter. "I don't know, Darlin'. Are you? That little leather skirt screamed yes, but your smart mouth and the fact that you didn't care that I was an aviator are telling me no."

You thought about it for another second and said, "I'm not one," while he laughed some more. "I couldn't be! You let me spend the night."

He reached for his phone as he said, "Yeah, well you're different, aren't you? I'm going to order this pizza."

"Okay," you whispered, letting your cheek rest on his chest as he tapped his screen and then held his phone to his ear. He was looking at you as he said, "Yeah, hi, a large pizza for delivery, please." He paused for a second and then said, "Toppings? Since I'm with a girl who has weird ideas about pineapple on pizza, just wait to hear how horrible this thing is going to sound. Are you ready?"

You were laughing with your face buried against his arm as he gave his address and credit card number, and when he hung up, you screeched, "Jake! You're ridiculous. And wrong! It's going to be the best pizza ever."

"Sure," he said sarcastically before sitting up with you on his lap. He nipped at your lip as he added, "It'll be about thirty minutes before it gets here, Darlin'. I think we have time to review some of your lessons if you feel like it."

A smile bloomed across your face as you asked, "Which lessons?"

"Whatever lessons you want."

----------------------------

You told Jake you wanted to review lessons two and three, and now you were naked on his couch with his face buried in your pussy and his hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs. Foreplay and oral sex were two things you clearly loved. He spent about ten minutes making out with you and hitting all the spots that left you dripping wet, and then he treated himself to a taste. 

"God damn," he growled, lapping at you as you tugged on his hair. Once again, you got him rock hard as goosebumps trailed down his neck. "Fuck."

"Jake," you whined until his mouth was back on your clit, and then you sighed contentedly. He knew he could get you off before the pizza arrived, and he also knew he'd be amped up for you later. He was excited. You excited him. He wanted to be so good.

"Jake!" You came apart on his tongue, rolling your hips up for more pressure. He rewarded you for knowing what you wanted by sucking on your clit, and he enjoyed every second of your orgasm. Every little sound. Each tug on his hair. The way your body seemed to relax into the couch cushions once you were fully sated. And then there was a knock on his door.

"Don't move an inch, Darlin'," he teased, kissing the apex of your thigh.

"I can promise you I won't," you whimpered, arm tossed over your eyes as you ran your fingers slowly up your body.

He chuckled as he walked to the door, and then he realized that he was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a raging boner. He grimaced and tried his best to hide himself with his left hand while he pulled the door open. You were just in the other room, completely naked on the couch, and if you sat up, the pizza delivery kid who looked like he was your age would have front row seats to the show of a lifetime.

"Thanks," Jake muttered, taking the pizza box and quickly closing the door. Then he walked to the table, his cock merrily bobbing along the way. He started to grab plates and get you another wine glass of ice water, and he had to pause to consider why exactly he felt the need to make this seem like a date. He'd already been over every bit of your body with his mouth and hands. He could have just fucked you by now. He desperately wanted to. But he needed you to understand that you had to go for the guys who weren't just setting out to take advantage of you. That you needed to make them work for it.

Jake turned when you made a soft sound and wrapped your arms around his waist. You were wearing his clothes again, and he collected you against him. "It smells good," you muttered.

He kissed your forehead and said, "This is the one and only time I'm letting you choose the toppings."

Your laughter rang out as you sat down with your ice water. "I guess I better make it count then. And that's such a typical guy thing, to think their pizza topping preferences are the best."

"Yours are just wrong," he replied quickly, dropping a slice onto your plate before putting one on his own. He watched you take an enormous bite and smile as you chewed it up. "But you're cute, so you can get away with it."

You looked satisfied with his comment as you asked, "So, you usually make other girls eat the grotesque topping combination you prefer? Is that why you don't have a girlfriend?"

"Wow. Okay," he replied with a laugh while he sat down, enjoying your smirk. "You think this Cooper guy is going to put up with you, smartass?"

You cocked your head to the side like you had forgotten all about him. "I thought we weren't supposed to be talking about him anymore? That was lesson number one."

"You're not allowed to bring him up," Jake reminded you. "But I can. So what's so great about him anyway?"

You nibbled on your crust and kind of shrugged. "He's pretty hot. And he asked me out four times. I keep telling him we can go out soon, but I know he's going to stop asking if I don't actually pick a day and do it." You paused and looked at your glass of ice water as you said, "I should have just slept with someone by now. I don't want him to be disappointed that I'm a virgin who doesn't know how to do anything."

Jake grunted and set his pizza down. He'd been with his fair share of women, but there was nothing disappointing about you. The way you got him going was unparalleled, and even though you claimed you didn't know how to do even the basics, you definitely had his number. The hair pulling and cum play and little noises you made were all unintentional but so fucking hot. And now he was annoyed.

"That's why you want to lose your virginity? So you can please him physically?" You shrugged again. "Remember how I told you that it's never about the guy?"

"Yeah."

He reached for your chin and tipped it up so you met his eyes. "That goes for everyone, but especially Cooper. Okay? There's nothing wrong with you, Darlin'. You got everything just right."

You nodded and swallowed hard, and Jake was so fucking jealous of a college kid, he wanted to scream. "Okay, Jake," you whispered. "I believe you."

His fingers slipped slowly along your jaw until they were digging gently into the back of your neck. He studied your pretty face and memorized how his clothing looked on you while your gaze stayed fixed on him. "Are you sure you still want to do this with me?" he asked softly. "Because you don't need me to fix anything about you since there's nothing wrong to begin with."

In an instant, you planted your hand on his thigh and leaned all the way in to kiss him. He realized he was still a little hard from giving you head as soon as you nudged him, but he didn't mind you knowing how badly he wanted you. He didn't stop you as you eased yourself onto his lap without breaking the kiss, and when your body settled against his, you moaned softly. 

Jake pulled away and watched you chase him for more before your eyes fluttered open. "I need to hear you say it," he whispered, hand creeping up inside the shirt you were wearing. "Is this what you really want?"

You didn't hesitate as you told him, "Yes. I want you for my first time, because you're sweet and I know you're not going to hurt me. I don't always need to explain myself for you to know what I need. I want you. Not Cooper and not Rooster. You."

The shirt you were wearing fell to the floor next to his chair, and Jake ran his rough fingers along your sides, making you shiver. He kissed you softly as his hands found the undersides of your breasts. "This pizza is going to taste even more disgusting cold," he murmured as you arched into his touch. "But I can't wait any longer for you."

You smiled against his lips before you stood, taking his hand and guiding him to his feet as well. Then you led him to his bedroom, and he got lost in your little glances along the way.

"Better get those extra large condoms," you told him with a soft laugh.

He kissed you and guided you back toward his bed, and you stretched out luxuriously beneath him, his hand resting on the elastic at your hip. "You got nothing to worry about, Darlin'. I'll take care of everything."

------------------------------

Full speed ahead to Jake's cock in the next part. He's ready to go. You've been warned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@katiebby04

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

@lex-winchester

@schoollover

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@blue-aconite

@mrsevans90

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> to catch a thief | next -> forever falling words: 5.1k summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant) The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! (post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[thegoogoomuckkk]

club -> legal advice -> hiromi is just so overworked, & it's never as good when he's by himself, but you're so sweet, of course you'll help him. . .

you’d thought long & hard, of course, about what on earth “massage therapy” might mean. it’s the only note shiu had left under hiromi’s name, like an asshole. you had the idea to ask him what he meant, but there was no way you were gonna come crawling to him for sex advice, especially considering he’d probably left that note there to purposely confuse you. no, you’d have to figure this one out solo. it could mean a couple of things, but you’d decided on a hand job. keep things simple, right? you had been worried about the time limit; choso had reserved you for an hour, which had made you anxious, but time had flown by. you could milk a hand job for an hour, literally. but maybe hiromi would be different than your previous encounter; maybe he’d walk right in & tell you exactly what he wanted. you sure hoped so. you’d make sure to make him tell you, regardless of whether or not he wanted to. 

you repressed a scoff when passing toji on your way past the bar as he gave you his signature shit-eating grin. “where you headed in such a hurry, doll?” he smiles, letting the beauty of it paint his features. fuck, you think, if only he wasn’t so goddamn hot. but that’s not just it; toji knows you well, too well, knows things about you that nobody else does, things you wish he didn’t know, things that drive you crazy. “oh that’s right, you’re off to fuck one of shiu’s clients.” you could hardly call them that. “fuckin’ sorcerers. you’re wastin’ your time with them, sweet thing.”

“as opposed to spending it with you? no thanks. besides, you only fuck free whores. you want a night with me, you better be ready to cough it up, & last I checked, you’re broke.” you breezed past him, but he caught your arm & murmured in your ear with that gravelly voice that sent vibrations straight down to your cunt, “not broke enough for you, doll. don’t worry, I’m coughing it up, alright.”

okay? what the fuck was that supposed to mean? but you scampered away before you could dwell on it. getting into any kind of relationship with toji, even some janky friends-with-benefits, work/fuck buddies situationship was a terrible idea. what was worse than that, though? you didn’t want those things with toji. . .you wouldn’t dare admit it to yourself, but you wanted something real. 

you shook your head vehemently, though there was no one around to see you do it. you had a job to do, a job you were rather excited about, & you weren’t gonna let toji distract you from that.

shiu—or rather one of his assistants—prepared a similar room for tonight; small, secluded, mostly dark with music playing faintly in the background, & a chair reserved for the night’s activities. when you thought about it, it was almost a little awkward. however, you had had the same thoughts about choso last night & it had been anything but awkward for you. 

so you kept your cool when you heard the soft click of the door a couple moments later. you were already facing him, & you could’ve sworn he had almost reached out to. . .shake your hand? but pulled himself back quickly. “hello. my name is hiromi. I assume you’re. . .sugar?” the false name was purely sinful spilling out of his mouth, but his face betrayed nothing, the picture of sheer innocence.

you took a couple of calculated steps back & he followed, legs bumping against the chair. “sure am. now i’ve got a couple questions for you, hiromi. there weren’t very clear notes left on my agenda; so what is it that I can do for you?” 

he clears his throat, obviously a little embarrassed by the question, but he gains a bit of confidence, meeting your eyes, saying, “want you to jerk me off.” okay, maybe he doesn’t gain that much confidence because he all but whispers his request, his plea. 

“what was that, hiromi?” he shivers at the name, the way your tongue caresses it. “you want me to do what?”

his face is all red, his tongue is all tied, his fingers are fidgeting with themselves, & he can’t meet your eyes when he says again, “want you to r-rub my cock, jerk me off.” 

“don’t know why you’re so embarrassed, sweetheart. acting like I don’t want to.” you smile at him, saccharine & teasing, excited for the half-baked plan already forming in your head. oh yeah, you’re gonna jerk him off alright, jerk him off ‘til he can’t take it anymore. the clock was ticking, & you were chomping at the bit to get a taste. “can I kiss you?”

he nods, but makes no move to reciprocate, not until you’re pressing your lips against his, running your palms against the nape of his neck, down his chest, moving to loosen his tie, slide of his suit coat, unbutton his pants, palm his already stiffening cock, & he’s groaning into your mouth. 

“can’t jerk off yourself, hiromi? gotta have some stranger do it?” you mock, sucking his bottom lip in between your teeth, biting. 

“n-never feels as good, can’t make myself cum as hard,” he babbles, fast, hoping his answer will please you enough to continue palming his cock through his underwear. you push him down into the chair, taking your sweet time to slip down onto your knees. if you were gonna be on your knees, night after night, you were gonna have to make shiu put a bed in one of these rooms; a chair & the just wasn’t gonna cut it. but you'd make it work for tonight. you'd make hiromi work tonight.

"aww, s'so sad, don't you ever get yourself off?" you pause at the waistband of his underwear, a silent request, & he slides them down eagerly, helping you in any way he can.

"n-not like this," he pants, excited & worn already, though nothing's really happened quite yet. his pants & boxers came off quickly, & you're salivating by the time they do. he's all pretty & hard for you, & his dick is huge; not a surprise by how large he'd looked through his boxers, but a little shocking nonetheless. he all but yelps when you fist him at the base of his cock, hard, pushing all the precum from his weeping tip.

"your tip is so sensitive, huh?" you coo, pressing your thumb hard into his slit until he’s attempting to run away from the pleasure. his eyes lock on yours, his mouth agape. 

“s-so sensitive, feels so good,” he whines, hips jerking to meet the lazy thrusts of your hand. 

how is he going to crawl back home to his fist, or even a pocket pussy, each night after this? after the tips of your nails scratch against his foreskin, after you trace each individual vein up & then down, after you squeeze the base of his cock, after your ghost your fingertips over his taint, after your grip your hand against his meaty thigh, holding him down so he can’t escape the pleasure you’re so intent on giving him? 

"does that feel good, hiromi? you're so wet down here,” you tease. he groans at your words, too focused on cumming to think of any sort of response, teasing & snarky or not. 

"fuck, w-wait, please," he cries, the muscles in his thighs flexing & shaking as he tried not to get lost in his own sensitivity. you were just jerking him so fast; hiromi was a methodical man in every way possible, including when he masturbated. he thought waiting for the high, edging himself for as long as possible, made the experience more enjoyable, but you weren’t taking it slow by any means. this might be the fastest he’s ever been able to finish. 

"god your hand feels so good, s’good,” he’s slurring his words, groaning as you keep your attention on his red, leaky tip, rubbing your thumb against the soft skin just under the head of his cock. “gonna cum, gonna make me cum too fast.” 

“you can come, honey. wanna make you cum, for me, please?” you encouraged,  & he’s shooting white, hot spurts of seed in your grasp before you even finish your sentence. 

wow, he thinks to himself. I’ll definitely have to come back here again, see her again. the silly boy. . .he thinks you’re done. 

but you start stroking his softening cock again, bringing him back to attention disturbingly quickly. “h-hey wait, what’re you—what’re you doing? I just came, can’t—can’t cum again!” but you ignore him because of course he can cum again!

the sinful squelch echoes in his ears, his poor leaky cock is red & overstimulated & your hands aren’t helping; if you didn’t stop, slow down soon, he was going to blow his load again, for the second time so quickly. helping echoing in his ears did very little to help him from blowing his load for the second time in five minutes. your pretty, delicate, perfect hands were furiously stroking his cock, both of them wrapped around his length while you jerked him off using a screwing, twisting motion that made his legs shake & jerk. you made sure to pay extra special attention to his tip, rubbing your fingers down his frenulum each time you stroked him, making his body jolt & writhe in your soft grip. he’s truly putty in your hands. 

he moans helplessly, trying to process the unimaginable pleasure. he doesn’t usually mix his pleasure with this kind of pain, so maybe that’s why he’s cumming again, vulnerable & unable to stop himself. 

“it’s so much, oh my god it’s too much—hnggghhh—”

but you don’t stop, & why isn’t his cock getting soft, why does it feel so good, how are making him feel this way, why aren’t you stopping. . .

he can’t figure out what to do with his hands; maybe if he thought about it a little harder he could figure it out, but he can’t seem to focus on anything but the painfully sweet sensation of your hands, your lips on the tip of his cock, your fingers squeezing his balls, his cum coating everything, the twitching of his dick. he’s pulling his own hair with them, running them down his unbuttoned dress shirt, gripping the chair ‘til his knuckles turn white, holding on to your wrists for dear life, which does little to cease your ministrations with his pathetically weak grip on them. 

“feels good, honey?” & you’re a real minx for that; of course it feels good, too good. your voice is syrupy sweet, only adding to the deep ache in his balls. 

“n-no, no, s’too much, gotta stop it, can’t take anymore, gonna cum again, cummin’” he whines so pitifully, he’s shaking his head furiously, unable to form something coherent to say to you, anything to explain how fucking good your milking him. 

& at his complaints of “too much,” you’re squeezing him tighter in your hand, speeding up your stroking, he’s bucking up into your grip, lost in the feeling of it, unable to control the movements of his hips, trying to escape the pleasure, but he wants it so bad. 

“ngh–no, m’gonna cum if you keep doin’ that, can’t cum again, c-can’t!”

“can’t you? don’t you want to? m’supposed to be makin’ you feel good, hiromi. don’t you wanna feel good?” if he had the ability to, he’d get you back for that, but there’s not a single thought running through his mind except for “feels good, feels good, feels good.” 

he can’t respond, only nods his head vigorously. he was leaking so much it’s difficult to say whether or not he’s cumming again, his body jolting around, face permanently twisted in sheer pleasure, sweet dripping down his temples, blushy red cheeks that match his angry tip. he’s just so pretty. he was previously trying to hold back in an attempt to. . .what? impress you? regardless, any ability to hold back is long gone

he was close, closer than you thought he was, & you really are impressed when he cums again for the third time, releasing a long whine of pain as his cum shoots into your hands again. 

when his cum finally slows down, you bring your finger up to his slit & start tracing it, coaxing more cum out of him, & he’s crying & whimpering, begging you stop, cock jumping into your hold begging you to continue; he grabs your wrists, hard this time, stopping you completely. 

“aww, you’re all done? can’t go another round for me?” those eyes, he thinks, those eyes are going to be the death of him, if your hands don’t kill him first.

night 2, complete. 

hiromi, my beloved <3 did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[clockwayswrites]

Not Exactly Cinderella Part 2

Part 1

WC: 818

“You have a thing for black hair and blue eyes, huh?” Dick teased, looking at the guy that Wally had pointed out. He laughed as Wally slapped his shoulder for the comment. “What? I’m not complaining. And you’re right, he does have a cute smile.”

Wally just blushed again.

“Well, come on, I think that most of my official duties are done. Let’s go see what he’s like,” Dick said, heading back towards the stairs.

“What if he’s a jerk?” Wally asked.

“Then we just move on and go find someone else to talk to,” Dick answered easily. “This isn’t a mission or anything, Walls, if you don’t click you don’t click. You can think his smile is cute and not want to do anything with him.”

Wally sighed, though, rather than being comforted by that.“You keep talking like he’ll want to do something with me.”

Dick stopped them at the bottom of the stairs, tugging them to the side. He knew he probably looked a little worried, but he couldn’t help it. No, of course he could fake it, he was a damn Bat, but he didn’t want to. Wally deserved to know that he was bothered by this. If Dick had known that Wally was having these self esteem issues, he would have done something earlier.

Wally deserved to know how amazing he was.

“If he doesn’t want you, it will because he’s straight or not into quick romance or doing something physical,” Dick said. “Or because he’s insane and doesn’t like red heads. Never trust someone who doesn’t like red heads.”

Wally rolled his eyes but he looked more relaxed. “Just because you have a thing for red heads…”

“Walls, sweetheart, you’re amazing. You’re smart and funny and fun. And you’re pretty damn hot too between the red hair and adorable freckles and your runner’s body. If he’s not into you there could be reasons for it, but it’s not because you aren’t an amazing catch.”

Wally let out a breath of air and nodded. “Okay. Sure. I mean, I don’t agree but sure. Let’s go talk to him.”

“Great!” Dick said with a grin. He took Wally’s hand but dropped it as they got closer to their target. The guy must have taken a break from his last discussion and was over to the side with a fresh drink in hand. Dick detoured them briefly to get drinks also; it was important for everyone to feel like they were on the same social page. They settled near the other as if taking a break from the crowd themselves.

“Enjoying the evening?” Dick asked, drawing the strangers blue eyes to them.

Oh, fuck, more adorable freckles.

“You know, I actually am,” he said, seeming surprised by that. As an after thought he held out his hand. “Oh, sorry, I’m Danny.”

Not a socialite if he was leaving off the last name. That was a positive.

“Dick,” he said, shaking the offered hand before backing off. “And this is Wally.”

“Nice to meet you,” Danny said, as he shook Wally’s hand. “You two having a good night?”

“Mostly. We’re finally where we can relax and talk to who we want to, which is nice. Wally here always has to track down the other scientists at these things,” Dick answered for them, pleased when Danny perked up at that.

“Are you scientist?” Danny asked

“Chemist, mostly material sciences but some organic too,” Wally said with a slightly bashful little smile. “You?”

“Bimolecular and biomedical engineering,” Danny said.

At least Dick would have an easy excuse to duck out when the conversation got too technical for him.

“Did they do the same thing with you and keep trying to make you pick one?”

Danny laughed and gave a little shrug. Dick could tell Wally almost swooned at the sound— not that Dick could blame Wally, Danny had a really nice laugh and the crooked smile was downright precious.

“Totally. I though that two of them were going to get in a fist fight over me at one point! Which I suppose at least would have been hilarious. I’ve won so far, but it’s going to be hard to pick a doctorate when I get there.”

“Oh man, good luck. I got my masters last year and stopped for now. Want to get some work experience, you know?” Wally asked. “But it sounds like you’ll kick ass whatever you choose. Where are you going to school right now? Gotham doesn’t really do much of that, right?”

“U Penn,” Danny said. “I’m close enough location wise that my godfather called in a favor for me to be his plus one for this event, but it really hasn’t been that bad so far.

“Who’s your godfather?” Dick asked curiously.

Danny smiled that crooked smile again. “Vlad Masters.”

Dick couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled at that.

Danny just laughed.

--

AN: Just a little bit of Dick's POV! And oh no, Dick thinks Danny is cute too! Whatever will we do...

Wanted to write more of this, but *waves hand at everything*. But this brings us to the end of the 'new schedule'! It was fun to do but I certainly won't be doing it every week. It's back to just trauma Tuesday for now! Stay delightful, darlings.

[anon-sect]

Picture source: Instagram account: @giantsOleprince

Dalton was shopping at one of the department stores. He was looking for a particular item that the store was supposed to have in stock or on the shelves, but he was having trouble finding it. He approached one of the employees. He noticed the name tag. His name was Eddie. "Sir, I am looking for Anvel Insoles. I can't find them. Could you help me?" He asked him.

Eddie was not in the mood to help anyone today. He really just wanted his shift to be over with so that he could go back home to play on the PS5. "I am a little busy. Go get someone one else." He dismissed the customer in a rather rude tone of voice.

Dalton didn't like how Eddie had treated him, especially a paying customer. "It won't take a moment of your time to point me in the right direction." He insisted so that he could find the product.

"Find it yourself." Eddie replied as he walked away from the guy. He decided he would take an early break. He didn't want to deal with the customer or anyone else.

Dalton really didn't like how Eddie responded. He wanted to teach the guy a lesson. He pulled out his phone and put in the setting on his app. He hit the flsah buttton. He walked over to a pile of clothes on the floor. He fished out a small six inch tall plastic toy from out of the clothes. "Nice, I can't wait to play with you later." He put the toy in his back poocket as he continued to shop.

Eddie didn't know what happened. One thing he was on his way to the break room and the next few seconds, he was reduced in size and couldn't move. He was surrounded by the clothes he was just wearing. He saw a giant hand fish him out. He was horrified to see that it was the customer he refused to help. After hearing his words, he tried to call for help but had no way to voice his fears. Being placed in the guy's back poocket like he was his possession was so degrading and humiliating. Yet, he was powerless to stop him from doing so.

Dalton did find the insoles he was looking for eventually, but the guy's help would have been beneficial. He got back home from shopping. He took out his new toy from the bag he had put him in. he really felt like humiliating the guy in the worst way. He pulled out his cock and jerked off. After a moment, he spread hot cum all over his toy, make sure to cover his face with it. "I bet you wished you was more polite to the customer now." He added.

Eddie was 100% straight. He was supposed to meet up with his girlfriend after work. Getting spread with hot cum was not something he wanted to see, let alone the guy's cock. He mentally pleaded for the guy to forgive him and turn him back to normal again.

Dalton cleaned him off and placed him at the other end of the couch. He turned on the tv to one of his favorite tv shows. He looked down at the other end of the couch at the helpless living toy near his feet. Unable to move or even protest, he loved having the living toy at his complete mercy. He slowly lowered his foot down on his living toy, playing with it with both feet. He could imagine how strong his foot odor was to his living toy.

Eddie was screaming mentally for mercy as a strong stench of his owner's feet was all in his face. He couldn't move or escape from being played with. He mentally begged for the guy to release him, but knowing he couldn't hear a single thought. He didn't want this to be his fate forever. He didn't want to be a toy under another guy's feet. He now regretted being so rude to the guy. He could only hope that the guy would eventually let him go as he was forced to smell all that stench in his face.

Dalton took out his phone and deleted the guys's human form from the app. He rather enjoyed playing with his helpless living toy. It made watching tv even more enjoyable. He was simply relaxing, watching his favorite show, while the poor guy was suffering under the stench of his feet. He could keep him forever.

[chiharuhashibira]

hi besiee (Love ya stories) I was wondering if you could make a fluff/smut head cannons for Sanemi like the fluff one is about he period what he would do if the fem reader was on her period (LIKE ME OMGGG) and the smut is like uhhh... BRUH I JS HAD IT OMGG OMG OMG OMG got it the smut is like when the reader upsets Sanemi and you can do the rest I have nothing else anyways bye bye bestie! (if you don't wanna do it you don't have to ^-^ bye bestie!) PS - js call me Octavia it's my name-

Hi Octavia~ Thank you for this HC request!

Alsooo I am so happy that you love my stories 💓 Appreciate the love and support UwU

And with that, I'll try my best to make this HC fluffy and pinch a bit of lemon 🤭

Enjoy~

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒅

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: Upper part is SFW but don't scroll down past the NSFW Warning if you're a minor! MDNI!

🌸𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚🌸

❥ Whenever you're on your period, the days are quite overwhelming for Sanemi. At least before.

❥ When you first told him that you'd gotten your period, the man was like... "Are you really supposed to say this to me?" and blushed redder than a ripe tomato. Give the guy a break; you're his first girlfriend, so he didn't know how to react.

❥ But then he had figured out that giving you foot massages, cuddling with you, and at least lessening his grumpiness helped a lot.

❥ And so he does that, accompanied by lots of kisses and, yes, pampering. If you want food, he'll give you anything; he would even cook for you on those days.

❥ Whenever you have period cramps... (See 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆)

❥ The man is really sweet. Little did you know that he had a calendar marked whenever you're getting your period. And when you saw this, he told you that he just wanted to be extra sweet to you on those days, and he just wanted to prepare for it.

❥ But then, period is equal to no sex. And this could sometimes make Sanemi a little impatient.

❥ Yes, he won't force you to have sex with him, but that doesn't mean that he won't do anything to relieve himself.

❥ At night, when his sex drive is too high, he will often pull down his pants and jerk off beside you. But then, even if he is not trying to wake you up, you'll end up waking up from his little grunts and muffled moans.

❥ And whenever that happens, you'll try to "take care of him" as much as you can. Yes, taking care could mean you taking the initiative to pump his cock up and down, making the man buck his hips up in pleasure. One thing about Sanemi is that he hates his sword being touched by you, but he loves his cock being held by you. And so, that's what you usually do. Jerk your boyfriend off with an unpredicted rhythm that would eventually not just make him cum once on your hand, but mostly twice.

❥ Taking care could also mean boob job. You would often place Sanemi's hard shaft between your boobs, making sure to give a great blow job as you licked the cum on the tip as you rubbed it up and down. Yes, Sanemi loved the way you looked as you did that, kneeling in front of him with his cock between your boobs or inside your hot mouth.

❥ Those are the usual nights, but then, your period could also mean mood changes. When it reached Sanemi's peak and you upset him, he would often roll his eyes at you and leave you for a bit. But then you'll realise you made him feel bad, so what you'll do is mostly give him all the love.

❥ And love could mean you giving him intense blowjobs, with Sanemi tugging your hair or holding your head to make sure he can fuck your mouth deeper.

❥ To make it up to him, sometimes you'll end up swallowing all his cum, showing it on your tongue like a good girl before doing so. Sometimes, you'll also end up letting him give you a facial, making sure you retain eye contact as he ejaculates on your face and boobs, as the Wind Hashira loves that fearful and seductive look of yours.

❥ But yes, you're on your period, so after that intense "work up" and "making up" with Sanemi, he'll give you the best aftercare, cuddle with you after, and tell you how much he loves you before you both end up asleep.

"I love you, baby. You're the best thing in this world. I'm glad I have you."

𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓮!

I was thinking to do an intense scene (like the one in Saltburn if you already saw it), but I can't XD I just can't HAHA

Thank you so much for reading this HC!

As always, feel free to comment, reblog, and request!

Ja ne~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

finished re-reading the jewel arc & I have thoughts...

The plot is about Ranma making Shampoo "say she loves him," yet the climax says his heart is unwaveringly Akane's. Ahampoo shows interest? He pulls away. Akane's "interest" is way more intense, yet he pulls closer

Notably, all the fiancées tell Ranma they love him in this arc, but only Akane's declaration gets to him. It reminds him that love is supposed to be something you feel and not a mindless challenge to win

These two panels being only a couple of pages apart really spell things out. Look at Ranma being put off by just a "hot stare" vs instantly leaning in and ~staring~ at Akane after an intense love confession. Atrociously down bad.

Similar to Tsubasa calling him ugly, Shampoo's rejection is framed as an attack, not just on his ego, but on his self-worth (this time also tied to public judgment). He reacts to both as if it were a challenge, his fighting aura visible... but the differences are interesting

The challenge against Tsubasa is clearly about looks, but with Shampoo at its core is more about likability. She doesn't attack his looks, she says he's a scum (and so should be hated). Even if he's like "am I no longer irresistible?" he's focusing on love, not attraction

When he's looking for validation with Ukyo, he doesn't ask "am I attractive to you?" (which is what you would associate with "being irresistible") but "do you love me?" (am I the type of guy girls fall in love with? ... that's what he connects with "irresistible")

Much to say about Ranma being emotionally stunted but this is the kind of stuff showing that at his core, he's a soft, romantic guy, jerk-ness notwithstanding. Classmates might say it's about desire (because THEY're horny lol) but he never goes there. Freaks out at the suggestion even

You can see the contrast with the classmates from the beginning (horny talk) while Ranma is focused on Akane's smile... his fantasies with girls are always something romantic with Akane, and it's hundreds of chapters before his interest in seeing Akane naked is brought up.

Ranma's personal space is invaded with frequency, which affects him, but all interest for him is tied to romance. There's a certain distance in challenges and playing characters, but I don't think he's comfortable with being desired from up close... unless he's in love (Akane)

And even then it's difficult for him. You can see how much he's about romance when he does not react at all to Shampoo's bridal fit (the cutest she has ever looked mind you... and yet) and with Akane just the sigh gets a big reaction

I think it makes sense to be a soft romantic at heart and struggle with being disliked. Wanting space from someone who annoys you doesn't mean you want/can take actual hostility from them. Being "dumped" is also a form of "losing" and Ranma must win absolutely everything.

Every step of the way he frames this as a challenge, a matter of reputation, armor, strategy, etc... without ever processing there are real, actual feelings at play (love is a battle, a simple challenge, instead of.... you know, love... he's not associating any of it with feelings! ... until Akane "confesses"). Other characters misjudge him for the bit, but Kasumi/Nabiki as a duo usually get it right

Akane can get angry because of misunderstandings/insecurities, but sometimes she's angry because she's being more perceptive and mature than Ranma and simply sees he's being an insensitive dumbass. (Ranma telling her not to be jealous also indicates he's not processing/seeing this as wanting someone else)

Sidenotes: it hits me that Shampoo is really a cat lol only truly dangerous when she feels (emotionally) cornered but otherwise she's just fucking around. “She hates me fr” says the melodramatic guy whose examples of "cold" and "hatred" are juvenile annoyance

Shampoo's abilities are plot devices more than anything else. If you take it seriously the speed with which Ranma defeats her is frankly disrespectful lol only the boys get Serious Fights. The tone with the female fighters is just different, no point in fixating on abilities or the like with them

(says something interesting about sexism in-world though. Cologne ya girl is getting washed, stand up! alas, she's only interested in future husband as she's ensured Shampoo's survival in her village. Could speculate the same happens to Akane, where she's trained just enough to be able to defend herself in her peaceful world, but then is left alone as the future of the dojo is expected to fall in the hands of a strong husband) (Mostly is the shonen of it all, as we're expected to believe none of the female martial artists have a sustained interest in improving/becoming stronger like the boys have. I suspend my belief here because there's still plenty to like about these characters, how the female fighters can be used, and because it's funny. What can I say. A bitch is being entertained)

[zombisarchive]

FREAK

mdni. not proof read.

FREAK p.t 2

switch! oliver quick x dom! M! reader

warnings: degradation, name calling, smut, hair pulling, biting, mean reader , making out, over the clothes touching

Oliver had been eyeing me all night since I arrived at the pub. Who does he think he is? He’s only around because Felix decided to befriend the little freak. Farleigh and I were supposed to meet up with Felix at the pub after class. But there he was again, like a leech attached to Felix. Oliver.

“Felix!..Oliver.” Farleigh said as we approached the table. Farleigh sat next to Felix, leaving me to sit next to Oliver. Fantastic. “hello..” I glanced at Oliver. He glanced at me muttering out a small hello, god can’t he just speak up? I rolled my eyes, trying my best to ignore his stupid glances towards me.

As we started to part our separate ways after the pub, I began to walk back to my dorm the long way. But I had this nervous feeling someone was watching me. My steps slowing down before I came to a halt, turning around only to see a figure horribly hiding behind a large tree. I know that figure from anywhere. Oliver. What now? He’s moved on from Felix to me? what a freak! “I can see you. I know it’s you Ollie” I yelled out, seeing him visibly flinch at my voice made me feel something. He stayed still and silent before revealing himself. “why are you following me?” I asked as I walked up to him, he looked startled as if I were in the wrong to ask that. “I..um..you forgot your cigarettes at the pub” Oliver finally muttered out. “Cigarettes? you’re following me like some creep over cigarettes?” My tone was harsh and he knew it, there was no way he could escape the truth now. Oliver dug through his pocket fetching out a packet of cigarettes, they were crumpled up, but they were my cigarettes.

We stood there in awkward silence as I snatched the packet from his hand. “Why couldn’t you return it like a normal person?” Asking as I rolled my eyes, seeing him shrug. “I was but you clearly don’t like me..” Oliver said looking at me. I laughed in his face, “clearly. you know why i don’t like you?” stepping closer to him I was now backing him up against the tree he was hiding behind. “No?” Oliver said as his back pressed up against the tree. “Because you’re a little freak! a no good for nothing oxfam scholarship boy” the words seethed out of me like hot lava, I was ripping into him and he took it. Seeing him stand there and not react to anything I was saying made me angry. How dare he? My hand shot up, gripping the side of his hair tightly, pulling it roughly to the side. His face contorted into pain, god did he look gorgeous like that…

“You’re a nothing. A lowlife. I don’t know what Felix sees in you” My words cut deep into him like a knife, his face now stone cold. I smirked loving the feeling of him completely helpless under me. “What? Can’t talk now?” I said with another harsh tug at his hair. He hissed in pain, “For someone who hates me so much…you do love calling out my name at night” Oliver said with a stupid smirk growing on his face, I was fuming. I let his hair go, pinning him against the tree, my breath heavy as he just let me do this. “you know nothing about me” Oliver laughed as he looked at me, “of course I do..i know everything..how you jerk off, calling out my name when no one’s in your dorm..how you look at me like you want to eat me alive” He was right. He did know me. I didn’t know what else to do, he had the upper hand here. “But knowing you, you’d never act on those feelings, no, you’re just as pathetic as i am” Oliver said with a laugh.

He’s wrong. I wasn’t a pathetic low life like him. “You’re wrong.” I said, his face turning to confusion at my words. I pressed my lips against his roughly. Oliver kissed me back, our lips dancing with each other. Hands roaming all over each others bodies forgetting we’re still outside. I pulled back a little, biting at his lip. “Still think I wouldn’t act on it Ollie?” Oliver laughed, “I guess I was wrong” “very wrong.” My hand grasped his hair again, pulling his head back as my lips ravaged his neck. Soft moans came out of his mouth. God he sounded wonderful. Biting and sucking on his neck. felt like ecstasy, feeling him squirm as I bite harder than the last bite. My hands roam down to his clothes cock, palming at it, feeling him buck his hips upwards, his moans growing with every touch. “Fuck..” Oliver moans out, as he clings to my shirt. Pulling away from his neck, i glance down at the ranging boner he has, smirking, “someone’s excited” I tease as he rolls his eyes. “Shut up, just touch me” Oliver begs looking up at me. Letting go of him, I step back away from him. “sorry I’ve got an exam tomorrow, later Ollie” I say walking away, giving him a wave. He glares at me as I walk away walking back to my dorm. Oh how fun this will be.

☆requests open!

☆kinda bad, but maybe I’ll make a p.2?

[viking-raider]

Salt in Our Wounds - CHAPTER IV

Summary-> Gus is healing and moving about. However, nothing is sunshine around the house.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III

Warnings-> PG-13: Language, Deception, References to WWII

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“You told our father what?” Edmund barked, as you met him outside the cottage, the next morning.

You had peeked out the window for him, ever since you woke.

“Well,” You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “It was Gus that thought on his feet and told Papa that he was working with you on things around the house.” You repeat yourself, licking your lips. “We had to tell him something, when he found Gus coming out of the bathroom, after his shower.”

Edmund carded a hand through his hair and paced on the small porch. “So, you told him that Gus was a carpenter from another village, who's come over to help me put up shelves in the basement and do repairs around the cottage?”

“Yes.” You nodded, fidgeting. “What else were we to tell him, Eddie? I just opened the front door and grabbed some random man off the street, who looked as if he needed a shower?” You huffed, a tad frustrated.

“No.” He sighed, waving his hand, a tired expression coming over his face. “No, the two of you did the right thing. I suppose it's just as good an excuse to explain him to Pops than any other.” He exhaled again and stopped pacing. “Right well, is the man handy with a hammer or saw?”

“I haven't the slightest clue.”

“I'll find out.” Edmund replied, motioning you both inside and found Gus sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading his book.

Edmund looked at you with a lifted brow and you gave him a look that said, why not, since your father knew he was there, making your brother roll his eyes.

“Good morning, Edmund.” Gus greeted him, setting his book down.

“Morning.” He answered, narrowing his eyes at the other man, sitting nonchalantly at the table. “Are you ready to work today?” He asked, squaring his shoulders.

“I am.” Gus answered, taking a gulp of his coffee, unphased.

“Not before the two of you eat breakfast.” You spoke up, pulling your apron on. “So, park yourself at the table.” You ordered Edmund, pointing to the chair across from Gus, defusing the brewing cloud of male bravado.

Sighing, Edmund pulled the chair out and plopped into it, giving you a short nod as you set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. Blowing gently on it, he stared across at Gus, who had returned to his book, but felt the other man's eyes on him and lifted a brow over the top of his page. Edmund cocked a brow back at him.

“So, Gus.” Your father called out from the sitting room, having kept his own eye on him since Gus appeared upstairs.

“Yes, sir?” Gus answered, respectfully setting his book down again and tilting slightly to the side to give Mael his attention.

“Why aren't you fighting in the War?”

“Papa!” You gasped, head jerking in his direction, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “That's rude.” You whined at him, frowning.

“It's all right.” Gus replied, smiling sweetly at you. “I don't mind.” He assured you, then looked back at Mael. “I'm a Conscientious Objector, being Evangelical.” He explained to him, causally.

Mael stared at Gus for a long while, fluttering and tapping the pencil between his fingers against his map. The sizzle of hotcake batter on the red-hot griddle and the bubble of the percolator on the counter filling the quiet space, as no one spoke. Finally, Edmund grunted, shrugging his shoulders and taking another sip of his coffee, putting the atmosphere back into some reasonable balance.

“At least, he's not a deserter or a Nazi.” Edmund commented, putting his coffee cup down and picking up the newspaper you'd set on the table.

“Exactly.” You trumpeted, nodding your head, a tingle of relief running through you, turning back to the griddle to flip the hotcakes. “How many cakes do you want, Papa?” You asked, shoveling the steaming rounds onto a serving plate.

“Three, Peanut.” He answered, still tapping his pencil, but his eyes had shifted to the uneven hardwood floor.

Nodding, you shifted three over onto his plate, before taking up a knife and cutting another in half, adding one half with his three, knowing sometimes three weren't enough, but four could be too much for him.

“Boys?” You called over your shoulder, cracking an egg onto the griddle, beside the two fresh pools of batter.

“Four, please.” Gus chimed, turning a page.

“Same.” Edmund replied, squinting at the small print of the article he was trying to read.

Humming to yourself, you finished cooking up the batter and made everyone an egg, before doling out plates. Everyone had just dug in, when a knock sounded on the door. You and Edmund tensed, eyeing each other, a silent conversation going between you.

“Don't be rude!” Mael huffed around a mouthful of food.

Sighing, you stood up and answered it, finding Dr. Tremblay on your doorstep, black bag in hand, a flood of relief washing over you.

“Oh! Good morning, Dr. Tremblay.” You greeted him, glancing behind you to Gus and Edmund.

“Good morning, mon chéri.” Tremblay smiled at you, kissing your cheek and glancing into the house and spotting Gus at the table, enjoying his breakfast. “I see my patient is feeling better.” He commented, lifting a bushy white brow.

“He is.” You nodded, stepping to the side. “Please, come in. Would you like some coffee or tea?” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

“Tea would be nice, oui.” Dr. Tremblay answered, setting his bag on the table.

Edmund looked at the respected senior and cocked a brow over his shoulder to his father, hoping to indicate not speaking of Gus's injury and real purpose in the house. Tremblay returned a squinty eyed glare, just as you set down his cup of tea, making you chuckle at the two of them.

“What's brought you over so early, Sacha?” Mael asked, forking a hotcake into his mouth, but his eyes were cast over the table.

“Oh,” Tremblay waved his hand dismissively, before reaching out for the sugar pot in the center of the table, dropping two granular, ivory cubes into his teacup. “I came to check up on Edmund.” He replied, looking at your brother with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Heard from Thom that he might need a new pair of glasses. So, I've come to take some measurements.” He said, patting his bag, still sitting on the table.

“You didn't mention anything about that, Ed.” Your father croaked, looking a bit alarmed.

“I didn't want to burden you with it, Pops.” Edmund answered, squeezing the handle of his fork. “No worries though. Doc has it under control.” He grunted, eyes shifting over to Gus.

Everyone finished their breakfast and Edmund showed Tremblay upstairs, under the guise of looking at his eyes in privacy, while Gus excused himself to the bathroom, following the two of them upstairs. You fret a little bit, picking up the dishes from the table and putting them in the sink, the feeling anxious of not knowing if Gus's wound was healing right or if he needed the antibiotics anymore. You wanted to go upstairs and join them. But knew if you did, your father would likely get more suspicious.

“Are we going to take our usual Sunday afternoon stroll around the garden today, Papa?” You asked, putting a plate on the drying rack.

“I'll see how I feel come time, Peanut.” Mael replied, leaning against the arm of his chair to catch every word the radio presenter was saying.

Nodding, you pulled out the mop bucket and carried it out to the garden, using the garden hose to fill it. Leaning against the wall beside the door, you looked up at the morning sky, steely with angry looking, iron-gray clouds drifting by overhead. You drew in a deep breath, filling your nostrils with the cool and salty scent of the sea, but it also had the faint snap of the ozone, the possible threat of chubby raindrops.

“Well, it looks like my nurse took excellent care of me.” Gus's voice chimed in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Your wound is all right?” You asked, casting your eyes up to his.

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled, filling the doorway. “Healing nicely and should have the stitches out in no time.” He assured you, lifting his jumper a little to show you. “I also don't need any more shots! Which I am thankful for!” He chuckled, but looked at you quickly. “Not that you weren't good at administering them!”

“Oh no!” You giggled, cheeks warm with embarrassment and relief. “I'm just as glad as you are! I would have much preferred Dr. Tremblay make you take the antibiotic by mouth! The idea of sticking you, or anyone, with a needle is frightening. I'm surprised I didn't wound you further in the process.”

Gus smirked, glancing down at his boots. “I doubt you could have. I have thighs the size of tree trunks.” He remarked, biting his lip for a moment. “Your bucket!” He gasped, catching sight of the water spilling over the side.

“Oh shoot!” You snapped, twisting the nozzle off and letting out a sigh.

“I'm sorry, I distracted you.” Gus apologized, watching you tip the bucket slightly to let out the excess water.

“It's all right. I should have been paying attention.” You shrugged, grabbing the handle.

“Here, I'll carry it in for you.” He offered, replacing your hand with his at the handle.

You brushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear and watched him take it inside, before shaking your head, as if to snap yourself out of something, and followed him back inside. “You can put it right there.” You instructed him, going under the sink to grab the bottle of fairy liquid. “Are you going to help my brother?” You asked in a hushed voice, pouring some of the washing up solution in the water, while glancing over at your father, who had dozed off.

“I don't know.” Gus replied, a crease forming between his brows. “I'm not sure your brother is too fond of me.”

“Edmund is...” You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. “Edmund tends to be guarded. Many relationships in his life haven't panned out. With our mother leaving us and his wife—well, Willa has big dreams. She feels have been held back and blames him for that, by keeping them here in Saint-Thurney. So, sometimes, even when he does like someone, he gives them the cold shoulder.”

“He's waiting for the boot to drop.” He nodded, understanding.

“Exactly.” You hummed, grabbing the mop and dripping it into the soapy bucket. “Now, you need to skitter off my kitchen floor, so I can wash it.” You ordered, shooing him.

“Yes, ma'am.” Gus laughed, swiping his book off the kitchen table, gave you a grinning salute and made for the basement, casting one more look back at you, smirking as you started scrubbing the floor. “Do you want any help?” He asked, finding Edmund framing up the shelves against the cellar wall.

Edmund paused, a nail clamped between his lips, bracing his elbow against the board he was nailing, he took the one out of his mouth, answering. “Are you any good at building things?”

“I find my way around a saw, hammer and a nail.” Gus replied, looking around at Edmund's spread-out supplies. “Just tell me what you want done with them.”

“All right.” Edmund nodded, cocking a brow at him. “I need a few more boards cut. I already have them marked to length. You can do that for me.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Gus replied, going into his makeshift room to set his book down. “What?” He asked the other man's look, lifting one of the pre-marked boards onto the sawhorses, finding the pencil measurements and grabbing the saw that rested against the leg beside him.

“Don't call me that.” Edmund growled, an angry glare in his eyes.

Gus held his gaze for a moment, a faint smirk on his lips. “My apologies.”

The two of them nodded at each other, then turned back to their work.

There was no afternoon walk to be had, the dark clouds from that morning broke open and saturated everything outside, shutting in the residents of Saint-Thurney. Your father continued to doze in his chair, unbothered by the weather pattering the roof like a percussion symphony. Gus and Edmund were still down in the basement, hard at work, coming up periodically for bathroom breaks and refreshments, and you sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea and getting lost in the world of Oliver Twist.

You paused, bringing your teacup to your lips and cast your eyes to the window by the door, sure you had heard something outside, above the rain and carpentry. But saw nothing and shrugged, taking your sip and set the cup down, returning to your sentence. However, a few moments later, you swore you heard it again; putting you on edge.

“Edmund!” You called out, slowly setting your book down, the hairs at the back of your neck began to stand up. You gasped, seeing three men flash by the window. “Edmund!” You shouted, startling your father awake, his eyes wide with panicked alarm.

A thunder of furious pounding sounded on the front door accompanied Edmund and Gus's boots stomping up the basement stairs, frantic and confused. You had rushed over to your father, in an attempt to calm him before he slipped into an episode of shock.

“It's the Patrol!” You cried, rubbing your father's back, eyes trained on the vibrating door, a stream of German demands now being shouted with their banging, mixed with accented French and English.

“Damn my eyes.” Edmund growled, gritting his teeth. “They must be doing random searches, thinking they can catch everyone inside with the weather.” He huffed, wiping at his sweaty brow and glancing at Gus, who seemed startling calm, but tense.

“We have to let them in!” You urged your brother, not liking how angry the Patrol sounded and knowing the longer you waited, the worse it would be.

“I know!” Edmund barked sharply, the gears in his brain spinning for a split second longer, before he took a long step forward and yanked the door open. “What's the meaning of this!? Are you trying to wake the dead?” He demanded, looking the three German Patrol officers over, the Sturmführer was red faced, and all of them were dripping from being forced to wait so long in the rain, for an answer.

“Inspections!” He snapped in Edmund's face, a small bit of spit hanging from his bottom lip.

“Yes, fine!” Edmund replied, rolling his eyes and shoving the door open.

No one moved as the three officers entered the cozy cottage. Your hand shook as it rested on your father's shoulder, periodically massaging it when you felt him tremble, still on the edge of a possible attack from his Shell Shock. Edmund eyed them from his place by the door, sweaty hands clenched into fists as he watched them conduct their inspections. More like a path of intrusive destruction. They yanked books off shelves, opened cabinets and tossed out their contents, pushed over furniture for amusement.

Even nicked things, when they thought the owners weren't looking.

Mael leaned forward slightly, mumbling to himself, causing you to frown. You tried to kneel down to bring your ear close to his mouth and listen to what he was saying, worried for him, but were stopped by one of the officers. He grabbed you roughly by the arm and yanked you up, barking something at you in German that you didn't understand.

“Please, he's not well!” You protested, tugging against him, desperate to care for your father before he slipped too far.

“Nein, bleib, Hexe!” He barked at you, making you cry out, his grasp tightening.

Before Edmund could blink, Gus was halfway across the kitchen, trained on the German holding you, like a bull seeing red. Snarling, with nostrils flaring, Gus twisted his fist in the officer's uniform and yanked them together. Forcing the other man up onto the tip-toes of his black polished boots in the process.

“Let her go!” He barked, giving him a good shake, for effect.

Startled, he let go, you tumbled to the floor at their feet, and rubbed at the burning handprint that was left behind. The air in the cottage thickened dramatically. One of the officer's comrades came rushing in from the garden, hearing the commotion, and fumbled for his sidearm. While their leader came flying downstairs.

“What is this!” The commanding officer demanded, glaring at Gus as he continued to hold his subordinate. “Put my officer down! At once!” He ordered, when Gus didn't move, showing no fear or reluctance towards the three of them, unlike you, Edmund or your father. “Who is this man?” He barked, looking between your brother and father.

“Answer me, at once!” He screamed, face turning red again. “Or I'll have him shot!”

“No!” You cried out, frightened. “Gus, let him go!” You begged him, pulling on his pant leg, desperately. “I'm fine, please!”

“Answer!” The officer growled at the lot of you, his limited patience wearing thin. “Oswin!” He hissed at his officer, who was now pointing his Walther p38 at Gus. “Shoot him!” He ordered, with a hard jerk of his head.

“He's my sister's fiancé!” Edmund blurted out, as Oswin pulled the pistol's slide back, his eyes wild in the heat of the moment, before collecting himself and saying more calmly. “He's just my sister's fiancé.” He gulped, meeting your eye as you looked up at him, stunned, and caught off guard by the omission.

“What man wouldn't protect his betrothed?” He asked the Storm Leader, moving his eyes to Gus.

“A lesser man.” Gus replied, taking the cue, then looked at the commanding officer. “And I'm not a lesser man, to have your filthy runt put his hands on my girl.” He growled, shoving the man away.

“Why have we not seen you before?” He demanded, looking Gus over.

“He was serving, but just returned home, after being wounded.” You explained to him, looking up at Gus. It was the easiest bit of information to give, for them to believe, Gus could show them his wound.

“Is that so?” The officer asked, cocking a brow.

“It is.” Gus answered, pulling up his jumper to show them his bullet wound. “I was wounded in Belgium and discharged. So, I came here to be with her and recover.”

“Can anyone other than those here confirm your story?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the lot of you.

“Yes.” Edmund chimed in, feeling like the situation was on decent grounds. “Dr. Sacha Tremblay. He's been doctoring his wound since he's been back.”

“I will be checking and informing the Director General.” The Storm Leader warned the three of you, and the look in his eyes hinted at his misgiving, waiting for one of you to crack.

“Very well.” Edmund answered, his tone bland, shrugging one shoulder.

The senior officer stared the three of you down for a second longer, before looking to his men, inquiring in German if they had found anything. But the two replied in the negative. There was no contraband or anything that could get any of you in trouble as collaborators to the French Resistance or Allied Powers. Despite Gus standing right there in front of them, plain as day.

Whether they knew that or thought they had enough evidence to take you in, was another story entirely.

[dabisair]

toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

[petew21-blog]

Romania dreaming

It has been a few months since I met George on the site for long distance dating for gays. He was from Romania, kind of cute twinkish guy. Never had much luck. I honestly can't say why I went on that website, maybe I was just bored, but it turned out as the best decision of my life.

It was strange cause from the start, we knew we had chemistry between each other, but the distance made it complicated. We often sex-chatted on the website. About what we would do to each other and so.

One day I told him I wanted to jerk off furiously, because of what he wrote, but my rommate was unfortuantely in the room. Then just a strange idea popped into my head. "What if you'd swap into his body? Then you could be with me." George told me about his Romania ancestor magic skills he had, but he did just some small parlor tricks from time to time. The bigger spells were harder. He needed a friend for that. A friend that I could be. And that I could benefit from too

George loved the idea, but was scared at first. "What if the other one in my body ruins my life while he is me? I can't let that happen."

"Ok, you know what. Find anyone hot from your life that you would like me to swap into and I will come to see you. Then you'll swap me back and I'll see what the other person did. Maybe the spell makes them think they're us. That would be neat" I suggested

George was more confident now and even sent me some photos of his straight colleagues from work, so that we could see if they behaved differently after swapping back. I immediately set my eyes on Daniel. His hot, absolutely 100 % straight, colleague who worked out. Insanely hot.

We both agreed. I got ready in my bed. I told George to start the spell at 21:21. I looked at the clock and still had some minutes left. I tried to fall asleep. Maybe Daniel would be asleep in my body and it would be easier. Then it hit me. Strange nauseating feeling and the light

I was standing in the locker rooms. Cold win from the AC on my bare torso. Bare torso? Holy shit. I am shirtless in the locker rooms of some gym. That's something I never expected to happen to me. I looked down. First thing that caught my eye were the shorts. Then I looked at my beautiful muscular torso. My new arms. Then I caught my new reflection. In the mirror was the guy that I saw in the photo. Daniel. "Daniel" I said aloud. His voice sounded so strong and commanding. If he told me with this voice to get down on my knees and suck him, I would. Speaking of sucking I looked in my shorts. Nice flacid shaved cock. "Gotta find out how big you are when you're hard big guy". His phone vibrated. Fuck, I almost forgot I was suppose to send Daniel proof of swapping bodies

I sent the photo to George's instagram. Then I wrote:"This is what you'll be looking up at tonight while you suck me off"

"Peter? I can't believe it. You're really him. You have to come over!"

I wanted to get his stuff and leave immediately, but the some of his friends got to the locker and ridiculed me for being a pussy and leaving without lifting. I don't know if it was Daniel's personality or something else in me, but I felt like I had to prove them wrong. And then I said things I didn't even know. Shit about cars, girls, FUCKING GIRLS. I even lifted without knowing how. This body was on autopilote.

I left early without saying anything. Bunch of messages from George waiting for me and being stressed out what happened. I explained and asked for his adress of his dorms.

The twink I used to talk to late at night was waiting for me in black compression shorts and black shirt.

"Heey...." was all I let him say out loud. I agressively pressed him against the wall and kissed him. Tongues twisting around each other, my teeth biting his lips, hands feeling up and down his body. Slowly we were working our way to his bed. I set him down and took of my shirt. He was visibly shocked, that his work colleague was now in front of him stripping down. I whip out my hard dick and pushed it into his face. He obliged immediately and worked his way with his tongue around the bright purple head of my new dick. He was working it like a pro, trying to swallow it whole, not gagging. But that didn't matter, I had to fuck his ass. Now.

I turned him around, not even stripping him, only pulling a bit of his shorts from his ass. I spit into my hand, got it on my dick and pushed myself in. He screamed out. But I didn't care, I just pused inside and kept thrusting. He was so tight. His ass was so tight around my shaft. I shot my cum inside of him. Pulling out and immediately searching for clothes to leave.

"You're leaving?!"

I snapped out. "Fuck, jesus George I am so sorry. I don't know what happened. I think Daniel's personality still had effect on me. I didn't mean to be so rough on you. Please forgive me."

"It's ok. It did hurt at first, but it was worth it. I still can't believe you're him now. And I lost my virginity with Daniel who I crushed over for years! That's so amazing!"

"Wait, this was your first time? But, you told me all the stories. Was none of it true? Jesus, George, maybe if I knew I would have fought Daniel's personality harder."

"I didn't expect we would me irl. I honestly didn't expect the spell would wrok, but here we are. Daniel is here. In my room. Wait, I have a great idea!" he started casting a spell

"Wait!" I wasn't fast enough to stop him.

But now I was looking at Daniel. From his point of view. Already feeling more submissive than in Daniel's body. The personality of the original body truly does have an effect on the one swapped inside.

George was now posing in front of the mirror. His eyes focused on his biceps and all the tense muscles.

I was now in George's twink body. I could feel his ass hurting from the sex with Daniel's body. I could feel the cum in his ass. I felt the attraction towards Daniel's body. But I didn't feel right like I did in Daniel's. I wanted to swap back.

George now got to his new dick, which was already throbbing hard again. How that's possible, I have no idea. But as soon as he started jerking his new cock he looked at me and I felt his predator eyes on me. Fuck, this is gonna hurt

The next morning I woke up sleeping next to George still in Daniel's body. We didn't sleep much tonight, but don't get me wrong, while the sex felt great I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was in the wrong body. As soon as George woke up I told him about my dysphoria with his body. He got mad. I could tell that Daniel's personality took over. And then few seconds later I found myself in my original body again already in my university lecture.

For several weeks George didn't answer my messages. I could only see as his Tumblr profile had more and more photos of Daniel's body in the gym etc.

Not only was I worried, but I had to admit to myself that I was extremely jealous. I was in that body first. I need it more than he did

I kept spamming him with messages and then one day he answered. The message said:"I need to fuck this guy in gym. I'll swap u with him tonight. Be ready". Man, I think it's better to have one body close to Daniel's rather than be far from him

He did as he said in the message. I woke up again in the bright gym. Now lifting. I proceeded to not cause suspicion.

This guy I was now in was really handsome. More muscular even than Daniel I dare to say. I could feel that his personality was not as strong as Daniel's. He seemed more kind in my eyes, but who knows who he is. I may not know before George tells me. I saw him on the other side of the room eyeing me. Stalking me even. I left the body on autopilote and finished the workout. His body was probably used to take photos after so I let him

Maybe I could stay in his body. He is really hot. And more handsome too. But I don't know. He is the type I would love to have as a boyfriend, not to be him.

I followed George to the showers. We were eventually the last people in the gym. I got into the lockers. Patiently waiting for him to speak.

"You're Mihai now. He's the owner of the gym. So we got the place for ourselves. Let's hit the showers"

I followe him. Mihai, what a nice name for this guy. I don't feel that Mihai is someone who would just follow others and do what they tell him to. Maybe I figured out how to overpower the personality of the person.

We got naked and stared at each other.

"Nah, this is wrong." and yet again he proceeded to perform his ritual

I was now Daniel again and was looking at Mihai. Now the reality of how he acted hit him. And as I suspected before, Miahi was irl a very nice guy. "I am so so so sorry Peter. I didn't know that Daniel had such a strong personality. I tohught I could fight it, but most of the time I just found myself being the passenger, but still enjoying his life. It's so weird. But I feel better now as Mihai. Maybe you should stay in Daniel's body for now. I'll learn to control the personality of others, just as you did and then we can safely try to swap with other people. What do you think?"

"I think" I said as I turned on the water in the showers "that you need a post workout shower. And that George and Mihai need to get to know themselves better" I smiled at him kneeling down to the nice hairy cock already waiting for my mouth

Few months later

Are you asking if we stayed in their bodies? Well yeah, kind off. We made their bodies our main ones. We got them to live together, start a relationship and now even if we swapped into other bodies Daniel and Mihai bodies continue what we established. Romantic right?

Me and George often take trips to some new locations travelling around the world, enjoying life of other people. Most of the time we try to find some straight friends travelling to foreign locations, trying to score some pussy there and slightly changing their vacation plans. Heh, there was this one time where we didn't even exit our hotel room. For a week. Crazy right? That was wild. But maybe I'll tell that story another time and tell you how our life in Mihai and George is proceeding

But now we are in the bodies of these two gym bro friends, waiting for the gay bar to open. See you

A story from messages we came up with while body swap roleplaying with @hunkpossesion

I changed the plot a bit, but still the hot bodies remained.

[lvrsparadise]

'FOURTH OF JULY' - M.S

synopsis - This was never supposed to happen. Not today.

| Y/N survives! |

warnings! - Mentions of death, kissing, profanity, italics mean flashbacks! (And are written in Y/N's perspective.) Sad Matt, crying, no in-depth description of how Y/N died, I think that's it.

A/N - I wanted to write something sad, so I'm doing that. Based on 'Fourth of July' by Sufjan Stevens (if that wasn't already obvious). And I apologize to whoever I will make cry.

Matt's face dropped. His phone dropping from his hand as tears well in his eyes, hitting the floor with a quiet thud. He just saw her. She just left. What went wrong?

He can barely hear Nick talking from the living room. His legs give out and he drops to the floor, one hand on the ground to steady himself as the other flies over his mouth to muffle his quiet sobs.

Immediately, he can feel Nick rushing to him.

His head is buzzing, his entire body cold but so hot at the same time.

----

I groan at the sight of rain outside the little gas station I'm in.

I was here for a hot dog and midnight snacks. Not to get drenched by rain. I push open the glass door and make a run for the awning covering the gas pumps. I get wet, but not soaked. Thankfully.

There're only two cars under the awning. One car pulls off and probably heads home to escape the cold rain. The other is just sitting at the pump. It's a van. A van I've seen since high school. I know who it is, but it's unlikely he knows who I am.

I sit down at the foot of one of the pumps and open a pack of gummies I got. Something to do while waiting for the rain to stop.

Unexpectedly, I hear the boy in the van call out to me.

"Hey! Need a ride?"

I turn my head in his direction to be met with a face I've grown up seeing, but never knew. I grab my plastic bag of snacks and walk over to the van, stopping in front of the driver's side door.

"You sure? I don't want to intrude or anything."

"Nah. It's fine. Get in." He jerks his chin to the passenger door, silently telling me to get in even though he already said it.

I smile gratefully as I get settled in the passenger side, now cold from the AC pumping and from getting wet running from the gas station to the gas pumps.

"Cold?"

I shake my head with a small smile.

"Not at all." An obvious lie. My teeth are clattering together and I'm shivering while rubbing my arms to create friction.

He doesn't say anything else, just turns the heat on and rolls up his window and drives off.

"What's your name?"

For some reason, that question kind of hurt. I mean, we've been in all the same classes and practically grew up together. Just without actually knowing each other.

"Y/N."

----

Matt stood up abruptly and grabbed his keys, bolting to his car. Determined to get to the hospital.

He starts the car in record time, not even bothering to put his seatbelt on.

He drives as quick as he can to the hospital. Maybe he can make it. Maybe he can see her one last time. Tell her he loves her one last time.

He's not even worrying about the speed limit. He's driving faster than he should. But all in good reason. His girlfriend is in the hospital. And they're not sure if she's going to make it.

He made it there fast, and bolted to the receptionist, demanding to know which room she was in. Tears flowing down his cheeks, his eyes red, his voice strained.

"Sir, please slow down. What are you asking?"

He takes a deep breath so he can speak clearly instead of just mumbling and rambling.

"Y/N L/N. What room is she in?"

The receptionist clicks away on her keyboard looking the name up and getting results. Her face full of sorrow and sadness for the news she has to share with the man in front of her.

"Sir, I'm so sorry for your loss."

Those were the words that broke Matt's heart. Almost beyond repair.

"What room?" His voce quiet and hurt.

The receptionist point to a room down the hall. "107."

Matt nodded his head and sped walked to the room, as fast as he could without printing.

He pushes the door open to see her. The love of his life in the bed, motionless. Her face almost peaceful but stained with tears.

He broke into sobs, not being able to hold it together anymore. It was too much. He shook his head slowly as he approached her lifeless body, her eyes closed and mouth slightly agape.

He grabbed her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips, saying 'I love you' over and over again.

----

I was sitting in Matt's room, waiting for him to get home.

I took a few deep breaths to prepare myself for what I'm about to do. Thanks to Chris, Nate, Madi, and Nick hyping me up, I had finally worked up the courage to tell Matt how I feel.

It's been a year since we officially met. And in that year, I found my closest friends, my found family, and what I think is the love of my life.

I was biting on my nails, sitting at the foot of his bed, when I heard the door open. I immediately stood up and wiped my suddenly clammy palms on my pants.

"Oh, hey. I didn't know you were coming over." He smiles and moves to hug me, which I politely decline.

"I know. I need to talk to you." I nervous and I'm scared he can sense that. He just nods and sits down on the foot of the bed, me following suit.

"What is it?"

I feel like I'm going to chicken out. I don't think I can say it. But I do.

"I like you Matt. I like you so much and I have for about 5 months." I search his eyes for an answer, hoping it's not rejection.

He looks at me dead in the eyes and smiles. The same smile that I love. That I want burned in my memory if I were to ever forget him. One that I will appreciate forever. And a day I don't, is a day I'm dead.

"I'm so glad you said that."

"Why?"

"Because now, I can do this."

He puts one of his hands on my cheek, leaning towards me.

Butterflies erupt in my chest and my heart is pounding. I look into his eyes and lean in as well.

The kiss is quick, but sweet and soft. It's everything and more. I don't think I've ever felt so strongly about someone.

He pulls back and looks into my eyes with a smile.

"What do you say I take you to that restaurant you like tonight?"

I smile back at him and nod my head.

"That sounds amazing."

----

One year. She had to die on their one year anniversary?

The doctor had walked in the room, clipboard in hand and two nurses in tow.

Matt snapped his head to the door, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

The doctor clears hos throat before speaking.

"May I ask who you are and you relation to Miss L/N?"

"I- I'm Matt. I'm her boyfriend." He looks down to her face and reaches in his jean pocket to grab the item he cherished since he bought it.

A ring. He was going to propose that night.

The doctor nods and walks over to the bed and starts unhooking wires and tubes from Y/N's body, as they were now no longer needed.

"What would you like to inform her family?"

"She um- she doesn't have any immediate family." He shakes his head and looks at the doctor.

"Is there anyone else we should inform?"

"Yeah but, I can call them."

The doctor nods. "Take as much time as you need."

Matt nods and never tears his gaze away from Y/N's lifeless body as the doctor walks out.

He sits in the chair next to the bed and pulls out his phone, unlocking it and opening his contacts.

He dials Nick's number, knowing Chris wasn't too far from Nick.

"Hey everything alright? You looked distraught when you left the house."

"She's dead Nick." His voice quiet and hoarse.

"What? Who? Matt? No. No, no. No. That can't be."

More tears make their way down Matt's cheeks.

Nick himself has tears rolling down his face at the realization of who had died. He looks at Chris, who was sitting on the chase of the couch, in horror.

Chris is confused, he didn't hear anything.

"We'll be there in a few minutes."

The line goes dead and Matt sinks in the chair and buries his face in his hands.

Nick on the other hand, is trying to break the news to Chris. While also attempting to get an uber. Chris is still confused as to why Nick is crying. Nick can't bring himself to say it, so he tells Chris to just wait till the uber gets there.

----

After the long process of airport security, we're officially waiting for our plane.

This is not the first time we've flown back to Boston, but this time me and Matt are a thing. And we plan on telling his parents once we're there.

After about an hour or two of waiting, our plane is called for boarding. We get up and go through the process of getting on and situated. I seated next to the window with Matt next to me, Chris next to him, and Nick in front of us.

-

We land in Boston and quickly make our way off the plane and to the baggage claim.

We finally get our bags and head for the entrance, where Marylou should be waiting. Sure enough, as soon as we walk out, there she is. Or well, the van.

We make back to their house in silence, other than Nick and Marylou conversing in the front.

We all separate to our rooms to put our stuff away. But knowing Chris, he's probably just going to go to sleep.

I open Matt's door and flop down on the bed, earning a chuckle from him in the process.

I kick my shoes off and curl up in the blankets, opening my eyes to look at him standing with his hands on his hips with a smile, looking like a kindergarten teacher or something.

"What? I'm tired."

"You sound like Chris."

I stick my tongue out to him with a smile on my face as I feel the bed sink.

----

About two months have passed since Y/N passed. Turns out, some guy crashed into her while she was driving back to her apartment. He was very drunk and was charged with a DUI and on account of murder. Because technically, he killed her.

Matt Nick and Chris haven't posted a video since her death. They were not the same. It wasn't the same without her.

Today was the funeral. Marylou, Jimmy, and Nate flew to LA for it.

Matt's currently sitting on the foot of his bed, dressed in his suit, looking at the ring he was going to propose with.

A soft knock at his door signals that Nick, Chris, and his parents were ready to go.

Nate was staying with Laura which meant he was probably already there. He took a deep breath before getting up and pocketing his phone and the ring before walking out of his room.

They all pile out of the house and into the car. Jimmy is driving there because quite frankly, if Matt were to get behind the wheel, things would go to shit, quickly.

They make it to the church they were holding the funeral at and walk up the steps. The benches are full of friends, and people who knew Y/N. Seeing most of these people's faces made Matt even more sad.

-

The ceremony went pretty easily, with a lot of tears from everyone.

Now is when people put stuff in her coffin and say their last goodbyes. Matt was the last person to do so, per his request.

There's flowers and little items in the coffin, all things Y/N loved. Matt looked at his girlfriend's face, expressionless and unmoving. He grabs the ring from his pocket and grabs her left hand and slides it on her ring finger.

"I love you." He whispered. He pulls a book from his jacket, her favorite book, one she read so many times she didn't even need to read it to know the story anymore, and placed it under her hands.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks to whoever it is, Sab, Y/N's best friend.

Sab just looks at her best friend's lifeless body and squeezes Matt's shoulder before hugging him.

Everyone knew what Matt was planning to do. It was supposed to be a perfect moment. But apparently the universe had different plans. He was heartbroken, sad, hurt, lost, and falling apart. He needed her more than he thought he did. Everyone did.

Everyone has left except for Matt, his brothers and parents.

"Matt, honey, we have to go. I know this is hard, but we have to go."

Matt doesn't want to go. He wants to stay with his girlfriend. He doesn't want to leave her side. Just like she never left his.

"I love you." He whispers one last time, looking at the ring he placed on her finger, before turning away and walking off.

----

I stand up from my spot on the couch and stretch.

I check the time on my phone and it's almost 3, me and Matt decided to go to dinner at 7.

"I should head home to get ready." I walk to the kitchen where Matt is sitting at the table and give him a kiss before walking to the front door and putting my shoes one. I yell out a 'bye love out' before walking out the door and to my car.

I was at a red light, one of the only cars on the road. I hear tires screeching from my left, and suddenly an old car is driving full speed. Right at me.

Next thing I know, I'm being tossed around and I'm pretty sure my car is rolling. Then everything goes black.

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo ✮ @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @prettysturniolo ✮

If you want to be added to the list all you have to do is ask ! ✮

I hope everyone has a wonderful day and / or night ✮

[newtonsheffield]

A gift for @folklauerate

“Mary, Mary, Mary, Mary!”

Mary laughed at her friend’s voice in the crowded bar, taking a sip of her drink, “No, don’t get excited, Rach. I can’t stay that long.”

Rachel groaned, swaying a little, clearly far drunker than she should be at this time of night, “No! You never come out anymore since you started working! You were supposed to be here two hours ago and Mark was asking after you.”

Mary rolled her eyes, “Mark, will find someone else to fuck tonight, I am positive.”

She didn’t bother to deny the fact that she was late. She’d known she would be as soon as Tharman got home and he’d picked Kate up with a roar, his hair falling in his eyes and his smile bright and her stomach dropped when he looked at her.

“Hey, do you have time for a coffee tonight?”

It had become their little routine, somewhere along the way, Kate laying on the floor in the living room, enjoying her TV time and just for a moment Mary could pretend that this was her life. Tharman’s leg brushing hers as he told her about his day and everything about him drew her in closer. The stupid little crush she’d developed on him, threatening to drown her.

So even though she knew that if she didn’t leave right that second she’d be late for her friend’s birthday she nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

He’d grinned at her as pulled a bag of pastries from his satchel, “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

What was she supposed to say to that?! To the man who had absolutely no idea the fact he had on her. The man who saw her as his friend’s daughter.

“You’re boring now that you have a job.”

Mary clicked her tongue, “Well I do have to be responsible for the care of a child in the morning.”

“Not to mention the fact that you want to impress Daddy.”

Mary laughed, taking a swig of her drink, feeling her head starting to buzz just a little. “See, that’s why I don’t need top hook up with Mark anymore. I have a brand new vibrator and the memory of DILF Daddy Sharma’s hands on my waist when I slipped on a wet step this afternoon.”

Rachel guffawed, “Oh I bet the step was wet you dirty bitch.”

Mary rolled her eyes, letting out a groan of frustration, “He’s so fucking hot. And his daughter’s so fucking cute, she’s so sweet and he’s such a good Dad and I want that?”

“You want to have a good Dad?”

“I want a cute Dad for my fictional child.”

“Oh, she wants a daddy.”

“I do want a daddy.” Mary sighed, “Just as one little treat, I want to stop fucking guys like Mark and fuck a sweet little aeronautical engineer. Is that so wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s wrong, but you objectifying a man who wears Birkenstocks is fucking wild.” Rachel laughed, gesturing to the bartender for a round of shots, “Okay, let’s have some ore drinks, and forget all about DilF Tommy boy.”

“His name’s Tharman.”

“Imagine your dad’s face if you fucked his friend though. Hilarious.”

“Unfortunately I think the closest I’m going to get to that is his battery operated namesake.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m your best friend.” Mary hummed jerking her head, “Do your shot before I change my mind.”

_________________

“Alright Katie Kat, time to clean up, Appa will be home soon.”

Mary’s head ached a little as Kate clapped her hands over her finished artwork of what appeared to be a dog co-piloting a plane next to her, all the colours bleeding into one another. It made Mary smile, swatching the tiny little girl with so much joy on her face as paint covered her hands and face and all over plastic table cloth Mary had put down to protect the table.

“Can we hang this one up? It’s a good one, Mary-Mary.”

Mary smiled at the nickname, kneeling down in front of the tiny girl whose curls were hanging down in her face. “Of course we can, Your Dad will want to see this one for sure.”

“Daddy loves all of my pictures.” Kate said proudly.

Daddy is fucking right.

“Why don’t you run upstairs and wash your hands and I’ll pop this one outside to dry?”

“K!”

Kate hugged Mary tightly around the middle before she ran off and Mary smiled after her, her heart fluttering in her chest. She sighed, a little glad to finally have a minute to herself. She took Kate’s painting, walking it carefully out to the tiny back garden and weighting it down before making her way back inside for the water and the paint palette to wash.

she should have been paying more attention but she let her mind wander as she stepped outside, sighing. She was thinking about how her fingers had typed out a text last night to Tharman and how her cheeks had burned this morning when she’d seen it, mercifully unsent.

“Fuck’s sake!”

The jar of dirty water had slipped through her fingers and splashed all over her white Tshirt, followed by the paint palette. Mary pulled the sopping shirt away from her skin, the string smell of the paint making her gag a little with her hang over. She spotted a sweater over the back of a chair not too far away and deliberated for a moment before she sighed.

She pulled her shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor and reaching out for Tharman’s sweater, the fabric soft under her fingertips. She could nearly smell his cologne clinging to it as she lifted it up and-

“Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”

Mary let out a surprised squeak at the sound of Tharman’s voice, spinning around. He was staring at her, with his lips parted in surprise and his hand was stopped halfway to his hair. She could feel his eyes burning into her skin and something tense rippled through the air as she stood half naked in his garden, the moment stretching on longer and longer. Heat flickered in the pit of her stomach as she saw Tharman’s throat bob convulsively and his hands tightened to fists at his sides.

She cleared her throat, “Sorry, Kate and I were painting and I… very stupidly got paint all over my short. I was just going to…” She pointed at the sweater, “Pop this on while I washed mine.”

Tharman seemed to shake himself, swallowing again and shuffling awkwardly, “I um… sorry, you um… you caught me by surprise. Yes, please, take that. Why don’t you… keep it actually I um..” He pointed back inside, “I just need to take care of something.”

He scrambled back into the house leaving Mary staring after him and goddamn it, when she went home that night she pulled the sweater over her nose as she fell into bed.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Character Voice Tag

Thanks for tagging me @thepeculiarbird (here)! I'll go with the cast of Scrapyard Boys.

My phrase: "No one told me I wasn't allowed to kill them !"

Valen: "Oh, fuck off. Nobody told me I wasn't supposed to kill 'em - besides, if that fucker didn't wanna die, then they shouldn't have started chasing us in the first place."

Luke: "What?" (laughs, slightly manic) "They were a problem. Now they're not. Moving on!"

Adrien: "Oh shit - are they actually dead? Like honest-to-fuck Dead-dead?! Oh fuck me, that's just my luck huh. I guess it's Hide A Body Tuesday again. C'mon, ya layabouts let's get rid of the evidence, then we can go order a pizza."

Erin: "The dude was coming at me with a baseball bat! I just reacted! Josh may be an asshole, but that jerk did teach me to throw the first punch so fuck it! What do you mean, 'what am I going to do'? Fuck that, let's just leave the body before anyone sees us."

Maxwell: "(looks at the body, blinks once then twice) Oh shit. Alright, alright, alright, stay calm Maxxie, breathe in, breathe out, think happy thoughts -- I know! (to whoever is with her) I just didn't know it would kill them!!! (calls her dad) 'Okay so, Dad, I'm in a bit of a pickle can you come pick me up? Oh. I may or may not have accidentally blasted someone's eardrums out with my powers, it's a long story -- Alrighty, see ya in five! Thanks!"

Quince: "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh -- (gags). Oh shit, there's so much blood everywhere, oh fuck. I didn't mean to, oh my God, oh my gosh -! Oh damn I boiled someone alive again, oh fuck - it's like a smoothie of guts and viscera all over me oh shit --- (gags again, panic attack starts)"

Emily - "... Well damn. That was - a lot stronger than I had intended that explosion to be, I'm actually kinda impressed. What? That was a really good combustion. Of course, I'm celebrating it! At least it wasn't just a puff of hot air - like that had actual fire in it. I dig this. Aw c'mon! You didn't say I wasn't supposed to kill the maniac with the machine gun."

Josh - "Toodle-oo, fucker! Aw, wasn't I supposed to kill them? Did you want to do it instead? We can find someone else!"

Your Prompt - "Tell me you're not about to do what I think you're about to do."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @finickyfelix

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid,

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG