#wedges: maroon

[killadelphias]

all the "trends for 2024" articles are listing every style of clothing and accessory that I hated back in my youth & I'm so glad I'm not someone who cares about following trends because this would be literal hell. it's everything that I thought looked ugly in middle school and high school and its driving me to the brink

[clairdelunelove]

itadori "pay more attention to me" yuuji

itadori “pay more attention to me” yuuji who insistently demands your undivided attention. the two of you were lounging in his dorm room– basking in the presence of each other, a rarity that desperately needed to be celebrated. a break from the mundane cycle of school, extracurriculars, and life. you’re curled up in his bed, flipping through a small novel while he’s scrolling through his phone. he’s not on any of his social media accounts, however. no, yuuji was spellbound by how informative having a phone could be. he’s never had one (didn’t have a reason to buy a phone) so when the academy placed it into his hands– he’s taken advantage of it for your benefit. his fingers persistently scroll through a website that’s titled ‘list of potential date spots that your significant other might like.’ nose upturned as he raises the screen closer to his face to read the small print. it’s cute and you notice how his voice rises in excitement. “look at this place,” yuuji’s mouth opens in awe as he continues reading straight from the article, “it’s a cafe that also has a gaming room in the back!” he tilts his phone so you’re able to view his screen but you’re snugly pressed against the plush, maroon pillows that are piled at the head of his bed. your eyes dart to what he’s showing you before going back to your book, “it looks fun, yuu. you always pick the best places.” immediately, his lips pull into a frown at your nonchalance and he presses his forearms against the side of the bed to lean closer to you.

he tries again, however. 

“or there’s this hiking trail we can do,” he underlines it with his finger, “you know how you said you wanted to get out more? we could do this!” and he’s so precious. wide, beseeching eyes that inquisitively follow you to be aware of your likes/dislikes. you’re almost finished with your book though and the story’s resolution eases into the final moments with your favorite character. so you wave a hand at yuuji’s suggestion, “sounds good to me.” and it’s not how you’d typically react to his words. you’re generally keen about the topics he talks about, a warm glint in your gaze as he rambles about the latest movie he’s watched or how his science class is kicking his ass. he heaves. runs an exasperated hand down his face to maintain his composure. is compelled to sort this out. gritting his teeth, he shuts off his phone and tosses it on the carpeted floor. 

then, he moves all at once. knee wedged beside you, yuuji’s strong arms are thrown around you as his face dips into the slot near your neck. his fingertips maneuver to press against the sliver of uncovered skin beneath your shirt. a delicate spot that manages to pull a gasp from your glossy lips when he touches you there. “yuu, what are you doing?” you mumble, all too aware of how the both of you are sprawled on his small dorm bed. surprisingly, he draws gentle patterns against the small strip of your bare skin when he hears your candied voice. he’s quick, precise, and uncannily quiet. before long, his lips are pressed against your jaw and his warm breath caresses your skin. he reaches out to close the book in your hand; made sure to bookmark and place it on his desk. this’ll take a while. “oh,” his dark brows drew together as he chuckled, “so now you wanna talk to me.” his voice borders a lighthearted taunt, a tone you would’ve scolded if he didn’t nip at the dip of your collarbones. feverishly, his lips find yours– the safe haven that he desperately chases. “pay more attention to me,” he murmurs into your mouth before tugging you closer to him, “will ya?”

[applejuicebegood]

God!Jason x Goddess!Reader

A/N: The Percy Jackson kid in me had too. And with Hades II now in early access.. like c'mon. This was inspired by the song Broken Crown Masterlist

The tang of blood clouded the air of any room he occupied. His downcast glare as sharp as his bronze blades, stained with divine and mortal blood alike. He was vengeance incarnate. His body structured upon the anger and vitriol of mortals.

He wasn't like his brothers, of course he wasn't. His purpose was to crack bone and rip flesh, their's was to protect and cultivate. Jason didn't mind the difference. Someone had to embody the violence of his families worshipers.

He was content to live in his routine of bloodshed and occasional peace within the palace libraries. Until his gaze attached itself to you.

You were small within the great pantheon, a goddess of sea creatures and river life. And like Jason, you were content. To float upon the backs of your whales and manta rays under Helios's blinding glow. To fall asleep tucked away in your alcove with the river otters snuggling against your feet. To braid small shells and river pearls into your hair on the rocky bank of your forest lake, your legs lazily kicking in the crystal waters.

Jason had stumbled across your alcove after battle, his robes clinging to his body due to a combination of sweat and blood. He bent to his knees, your cool blue waters washing away the specks of dead flesh and the maroon from his hands and forearms. It tainted your waters, brining unease and uncertainty to your sanctuary. 'What are you doing?'

He looked up, your voice like waves against a rocky shore. And for the first time in his immortal life did he know what it was like for a mortal man to worship at the feet of the divine. He stuttered an apology, the blinding quality of your beauty too intense for him to look at more more than a few seconds. He vanished back into the shadows of the trees, his heart pounding in his ears.

He knew he had to see you again. His soul demanded it. So he bloodied his hands repeatedly just so he could wash them in your waters. For he would tear through the mightiest of men just to glimpse at you from afar.

He became a nuisance wedged into your days. And your annoyance with him couldn't be contained to just that, with how frequently he showed at your pools and rivers. It was fated that you both would fall deeply for each other.

Your blooming love felt predetermined, like your bodies had been crafted to fit against the other. Once the discovery of mutual love was made, you languished in each others grasp. Years of solitude and isolation suddenly shattered by each-others presence.

You cleansed him within your pools, washing away the scars of violence the world expected of him to bare. He would unfold into the safety of your solitude as your cradled his head in your lap.

You both would bathe in the warm glow of the canopy against the river banks, giggling in your own amusement as you tried to feed each-other olives.

You would steal his cloaks if he had to leave you for war. For you to curl yourself in, a weak replacement to his arms typically wrapped around your torso as Hypnos would claim you both.

To claim that Jason worshiped you would be a pity to the extent of his efforts. He adored you entirely; his precious, sweet goddess. He would carry you across continents if you demanded it. He would rip apart the world and drag your soul from Elysium should you ever be separated by death. You filled the vacant hole deep within him.

His shoulders bare the weight of limitless anger yet the touch of your sun bleached skin against his could quell any pain, any anguish.

Your marble statues are now confided to museums and the greatness of your love is limited to sonets and song. But nothing, not even time, could kill the power of the Vengeance Gods adoration for his Wife born of water.

[forthelostones]

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #2

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. everyone wow thank you so much for the love on for your eyes only! it means so much. here’s something a little different, hope you enjoy. any requests don’t hesitate to drop ‘em, xx jstar.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. distraction by kehlani ♫

palestinians still need e-sims!!! click the link to figure out how you can donate.

The overly generous housewife commissioned me another large project, to which I simply could not decline. Summertime is when business is the best and she just became my second client in this particular neighborhood. It was a carbon copy of the nearby cities split by four-way stops and freeways. The demands were never unique or fresh, causing me a great deal of creative fatigue when I had to order identical materials from my supplier. I pressed the half-empty bottle of frosty Sam Adams against my neck, soothing the battering I received from the sun this afternoon. There was a cacophony of Casio watch alarms indicating that lunch was over. All my workers were so ecstatic to finish up today’s task and celebrated with loud audible sighs.

“Men can be such pigs,” I whispered, consolidating their empty glasses sticky with sugar. 

“Men and children,” She adds, catching me off guard. 

I smile over to her blankly, having very little experience with either. 

“Yes, my little one over there used to be a slobbering mess.” 

I glance over my shoulder to see her daughter sucking on a lemon wedge. Her dark pink lips are tacky with citrus and teeth white against the sunny flesh shedding onto her mouth’s crevasses. I trace the thin maroon-shaded line on the outside of her lips. I find my tongue gliding over my own, thinking of how the lemon would taste between us both. Her eyes jut open once she realizes I am looking at her, eyelashes feathery and light under the sun. Then she just stares at the ground, scraping the sole of her worn Converse against the driveway pavement, attempting to conceal her smile. 

“Have any?” She asks. 

“Any kids? Ah, no. I don’t.” 

She invites me into her home with my hands full of expensive glassware. She screams out to her daughter to bring in the remaining to which she obliges silently, the wedge now dry between her teeth. I wait before walking through the mysterious door and let her guide me — once again with no words. I watched her hips wobble, compressed in spandex, as she walked in front of me. Blinking myself out of the curve of her behind, I stepped up the concrete steps into the kitchen area. Once the daughter placed the glasses on the granite island, she discarded her lemon by spitting it directly into the bin, before lifting the cups out of my hands. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” I hummed naturally. 

“So we’re good for a consultation tomorrow Abigail?” 

I stalked the daughter's movements as she traveled to the dishwasher on the other side of the kitchen. She hunched over to load the dishwasher, ass drawing me back in as she bent down into a squat to adjust something on the rack. 

“Abigail?” Her mother probed. 

“Yes, ma’am, sorry I was just going through my schedule in my mind.” I laughed nervously. 

“Don’t you have an assistant for all that stuff?” 

“No ma’am, not yet. But we’re good for a consultation at 7:00 am?” 

“Yes, my husband will be here and it’ll be a nice affair. Darling, why don’t you give Abigail all of our numbers. It will be necessary once she starts coming by regularly to fix your bathroom and the deck.” 

Her daughter bounced on her heels and closed the washer, turning to me, worrying her lip in her mouth. She looked between her mother and me, confused at the declaration of plans.

“I didn’t know… uh… renovations to my bathroom, okay.” She said.

“You’ve been complaining about it, so we’re getting it fixed, see Abigail out.” 

She wipes her hands on her shorts and leaves wet smears on the material, the handprints incasing her plump thighs. The girl guides me back to the entrance we came in, her mother wishing me farewell as I step out of the kitchen and back into the garage. I turn to her, still perched on the top of the concrete step, her breasts now eye-level. They glimmer like diamonds just before I tilt my head back and meet her reticent eyes. She holds out her hand, palm upward, demanding something. 

“Phone?” She says. 

“Oh right, uh I think I left it in the truck,” I say patting my pockets. “Why don’t you just take mine down?” 

She removes her phone from her waistband and opens the contact page allowing me to type in my information. I look up at her and she nods at my name on the screen. I huff and start strutting out of the wide garage door. Just as my boot touches the line between the shaded concrete of the garage and driveway, I hear her sweet voice shimmer. “See ya, Ms. Anderson.” 

“Bye.” I wave as the heat from outside embraces me and a collection of warmth bottles inside of me from hearing my name so velvety on her lips. 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

My neck and forehead were drenched as I rolled over to throw my legs over the couch. The tightness in my lower back that could only be saved by major corrective massaging was throbbing violently. My body stiffened from using this old couch as my bed again, the third time this week. My actual bedroom was a few steps away from the front door but I never make it there. Under my left leg was another thriller book whose name is now obsolete and could explain why I was sweaty and anxious throughout the night. I thumbed the pages and set them on the massive pile of manila folders that accumulated on the coffee table. I put my finger under my glasses and rubbed my eyes clear. What a mess my house has become. The sun wasn’t even up yet and I question why I still do any of this. This a question I ask myself every day actually. I touch the screen of my phone that I forgot to put on charge last night, again, and see all the notifications accumulated after 7:00 pm. 

Payments due, meetings, consultations, etc., are all semi-organized in a calendar system I have yet to perfect.

11:00 PM: See you in the morning, Ms. Anderson :) 

I felt my mouth open slightly. I was pathetic, smiling at a simple text. How long had it been since a notification on my phone was from a woman? I opened the message to type but it’s far too late to reply… right? I liked the message, saved her number as the address, and placed my phone down on the counter. I picked up my tube of toothpaste and noticed how thin it became. I will need to run to the store after work today, another thing to add to the list of shit I didn’t want to do. I used all my might to pop out the last bulb of paste. 

Today was supposed to be an easy day, do the consultation, and oversee the the porch while I put up ads for an assistant I desperately needed. After slicking my hair I walked back into the living room where piles of paperwork overwhelmed the space. I needed an assistant and quickly if I was going to continue to expand my business. 

Two cups of black coffee today as I discovered my creamer was congealed and rotten beyond belief. Another thing I need to do is go grocery shopping. I searched for my keys under the folders stacked on my coffee table. It was already 6:30 a.m. and by my standards, I was running late. Once every piece of paper was misplaced and out of order, I recalled my keys' presence on the loop of my cargos. I pressed my head against my seat and let out a sigh before turning on my truck and an audiobook, A Certain Hunger. Another fucking day. 

My truck hummed as I parked on the street in front of the plain light blue house. I winced at my final sip of bitter caffeine while pulling the keys out of the ignition and attaching them to my belt loop. I dig in my back seat for my work bag and drag it with me to the front door. After I knocked, a man of my height opened the door to welcome me in. 

“Abigail,” He said unamused by my presence. 

“Good morning,” I replied. 

“So, this deck came with the house and it’s very outdated and my wife would like to…” 

His voice faded into a tornado of my own thoughts. It was usually the same customers, who had a ten-year-old porch or deck, wanted it to look modern and have the money to waste on it. I shouldn’t complain because I'm willing to take what they’re willing to cough up. 

“Let me show you the bathroom we want to redo.” 

I followed him up the hardwood steps that opened into a mezzanine that split into three directions. One I assumed was a bathroom, a master suite, and a baby pink painted door with a crown-shaped sign that said: ‘The Princess’ Room'. I found myself cracking a smile. He knocked on the door before entering, to which his restless daughter opened her eyes and pulled the duvet over her chest.

“Dad.” She groaned, catching a glimpse of me just before retreating completely under the blanket. 

The view I caught of her face was soft and her lips were perfectly swollen to take into my mouth. I clear my throat and push the thought down just before nearly tripping over one of the many boxes cascading around the room. The bathroom was bright with shades of pink I had never seen before. 

“We just want something black, gold, something mature for the college grad.” He tried to smile but shrugged as if his wife told him to say those exact words. 

“Great, I can draft something up and give you a quote.” 

“Nice, I do have to run, my rude daughter will see you out.” 

His hand briefly gripped my shoulder as he walked past me. I looked over to the bed and placed my thumbs into my belt loops as she peeked from the covers. Her bare shoulders indicated that she was in no position to walk me out. I followed the deep line of her collarbone and blinked heavily. I swallowed as my cheeks became flushed and marched out of the room before finding my way back into my truck in a blur. I placed my hand on my chest and imagined my skin was hers. How it would feel under my hands after a long day and possibly how she would feel on mine too. There was a deeper ache in me that needed to be satisfied. The safety of knowing my body belonged to someone else would soothe my mind. I would finally get some release if— 

A knock on my window jolted me back into reality. She was standing on the other side of the glass with her hand above her eyebrows trying to shield herself from the early morning sun. Her body is now covered in an all-white cotton sleepwear set that was hastily thrown on. I linger on the movement of her breasts and the outline of her hips as her hand gently catapults the most delicate parts of her body into a wave. The fabric held no regard for a woman’s eye like mine. The silhouette of her dark nipples and sloping v-line at the waistband of her flowing shorts pulled at a string that hadn’t been yanked in a long time. I felt a thrum deep below my belt. I turn the key to roll the window and she smiles slightly, lips slathered in a pinkish gloss that caught my attention immediately. 

“Hi,” She mutters. 

“Morning.” I reply. 

“Um, sorry I wasn’t—”  

“You’re good. So, Princess?” 

I regretted saying it until her smile grew into a chuckling laughter that echoed down the silent street. I grinned with her as her skin glistened from the pure sunlight, uninterrupted of any lingering elements. 

“To be fair, we’ve lived in this house forever.” She adds. 

“Uh-huh, well, no worries all that pink will be gone.” I glance down to her mouth and she retracts her lips to make them vibrate with a pop. 

“In a way, I’ll miss it but it's time for something new.” 

Those words hung in my mind and the cadence in which said it, implying something more than just new tiles and a coat of white paint. 

“Right, have a nice day,” I say. 

“Oh and Abby,” She adds, leaning into the window with her perfect fingers on the windowsill. “Can you tell me when you’re coming so I can at least be dressed?” 

Before I could get a word in she was already heading back through the front door of her house. 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

I sat on the sidewalk with my laptop and lawn chair, writing out a description for an assistant. I had been so used to doing everything on my own when I started but now I need to switch my methods before I can’t do it anymore. The team was getting along well with the porch and we were almost done, one week in advance, but I can’t count too much on their loud mouths to stay on task. It felt nice to sit in the sun and give my body a rest, I needed more of this. But now I was just staring at the cursor on the screen wondering what I needed an assistant to do.

As a woman who owns her own company…

(DELETE) 

I am looking for someone who is …

(DELETE) 

In need of an Administrative Assistant who can help with my everyday business needs. This includes filing records, sending invoices to clients, being the main contact for clients, and other tasks as assigned. If you are applying, provide a resume listing previous experience relevant to this job. Set hours of 30 per week may include, working in an office, on the job site, and traveling with me. Pay starts at $19.00 per hour. Please send your interest to andersonco@gmail.com. Thank you. 

I triple-checked my grammar to ensure there were no errors and posted it to all the job-hiring websites I could think of. I exhaled knowing the mess of my life would soon become organized with the assistance of someone more qualified than me to sort it out. I close my warm laptop walk around to the driver's seat and place it into my bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone watching me from the sidewalk. 

As I lift my gaze I notice my stalker. She walks over to me, fully dressed in bright yellow athleisure and a smile. “I realized something.” She says, hands on the fat of her hips. I pause as I notice the contrast of the sunflower yellow against her skin. If I didn't know, I would mistaken her for the sun.

“And that is?” 

“You told my dad you were going to mock-up something but never got what I wanted it to be. Doesn’t there have to be a meeting of some sort so you know what style I like?” 

“I thought your style was black and gold?” 

She stood just a foot away from me and I cast her body in my shadow, relieving her from the sun. I hovered over her but if she only knew how yielding I felt around her this persona would vanish.

“It is but I want to have some say in the creative process.” She tilts her head, milking me for every ounce of consideration.

“Of course. So, a design meeting?” 

I cross my arms and not in a subtle way. It wasn’t an intentional distraction, just a habit. 

“Yes.” She said, holding her eye contact with me. 

“Fine. Cool,” I say and she chuckles. 

A woman my age shouldn’t be saying cool. 

“How does this work then?” 

I open the door and bend over the seat to grab my notebook with pages crumbled and falling out. 

“We schedule a meeting, I doodle a bit, and we come to an agreement. Will cost you extra though, most clients just trust my first design.” I shrug. 

“Oh,” 

“Is that okay with you?” 

“Of course. How does tomorrow sound?” 

“Oh coo— great. Tomorrow at … 3 pm?” I said, avoiding her gaze that has yet to leave my body. 

“I can do that.” 

“You can stop by my office tomorrow then, I will send you the address.” 

[raitonsfw]

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Sigma wanted to try new things with you - things that made his head swirl with images of you laid out for him while stuffed full with a jeweled buttplug and fluffy handcuffs latched to your wrists.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, slight dom!sigma (but not really), sex toys (vibrator, handcuffs, & buttplug), consent checks, dirty talk, body worship, clit play, slight fingering, slight cunnilingus, petnames (sweetheart, darling, good girl), sigma fucks you with the vibrator, he's v sensual.

a/n: hope you meant this in a way where fem!reader gets pampered with the sexy toys cuz that's what i wrote. now if you meant sigma getting pampered (i'd be happy to write that too, im versatile with the man) wc: 600ish. v-day m.list | m.list

thirst count: 1

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“What do you think of this, hun?” Sigma asked from across the bed, nervousness unreeling from him. You two had just gotten back from your lovely dinner date at one of the most esteemed restaurants in the Sky Casino and during the evening, he brought up a few ideas with a bit of a flustered expression. 

The topic that had been sprung up, much more prominent than the others, was being more dominant in bed. Specifically with sex toys scattered about at the end of the mattress, varying in different kinks that made your head spin. Sigma wasn’t normally the type of take charge, a sensual love making always preferred rather than the hard, fast fucking that a lot of couples partook in. 

But, recently– Sigma had been desperate. 

As he watched you from the other side of the table during your date, all he could think about was how sexy you’d look splayed out for him; your figure cuffed and quivering from insatiable pleasure. It made him dizzy, his leg immediately crossing over the other as he tried to hide his erection underneath the napkin that sat against his lap. A quiet sigh escaped him every once in a while as he listened to your stories before he welled up enough courage to ask you how you felt about other sexual endeavors in bed.

And the fluffy pink handcuffs kept you still on the bed, your ass firm in the air with your knees unsteadily holding you in place as he wedged a maroon jeweled buttplug into you. It fit inside you perfectly, nudging you full and you inadvertently clenched around it– and around nothing as your poor cunt ached for something, anything. Sigma hadn’t so much as touched you there yet, too enamored by the intricacies of the sex toys he had bought for you. 

Your cunt drooled for him as he clicked on and off one of the vibrators that had been placed on the bed– all lined up neatly in a row, begging to be used on you. “S-Sigma…” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” You felt the strands of his hair fall against your face as he leaned over to kiss against your back. “Are you doing okay?” 

You nodded quickly, his hands trailing down the backs of your thighs– they felt soft and slender against your flesh and two of his fingers eased into you, a satisfied hum sounding near your ear. “Ah, you’re so wet already…” 

He picked up the vibrator that sat pliant between your legs, turning it on and rubbing it up towards your inner thigh, a jolt shuddering through your body. Sigma pressed it against your clit as his fingers slipped out of you to steady you as you wobbled slightly from the buzzing sensation. His hand fell to your hip and he became eye level with your pussy now, watching you drip more of your arousal against the satin toy– it glistened now as he rubbed it the head against your entrance, what if he just delved it straight in? Would you jerk from the intrusion or would you fuck back against it like it was his own cock? 

“You’re doing so well for me…” He praised as he pushed the toy into you slightly, letting you gasp out into the pillow with a broken moan. “That’s it… taking it so well, darling.” 

You didn’t know what overcame him– this was all sorts of new for you two and you weren’t complaining as you felt the toy vibrate inside you, pulling whimpers and moans from your mouth. His pointed tongue dove to circle at your clit and that’s when you lost it– clenching the toys so damn hard that you saw stars. 

“Good girl, now why don’t we try these next?”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

He's A Pretty One: Part 2

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You’re visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

A/N: this became another impromptu mini series. There will be one more part after this!

Part 1

Gareth led you inside the seedy dive bar that he, Eddie, and the rest of the band play. The Hideout is remote from everywhere else, wedged in between an abandoned steel factory and a cornfield.

You try to keep a neutral face as you observe the few patrons, the dirty carpet, the tables and counters that look like they haven't been wiped down in decades.

Towards the front of the stage is a small wooden stage that looks like it could collapse any minute. At said stage, Jeff, Doug, and Eddie are bringing in their instruments and equipment.

"So this is the Hideout?" you ask even though you know the answer.

Gareth nods, "Yup! Isn't it great?!"

You snort and pat his shoulder, "Sure it is, Gare."

"GARETH! STOP CHIT CHATTING AND HELP!" Eddie yells from the stage.

Your cousin groans, "He's in a bad mood," he mumbles to you before heading towards the stage.

You stand there looking around the place and figure you could grab a drink. You walk up to the bar counter where a five-foot tall woman with maroon hair looks up in confusion.

"You're not a regular," she states plainly.

You cock a brow, "No...I'm not. Don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing."

The woman rolls her eyes, "Did you want something, kid?"

"Well you don't seem like you'd serve martinis here so I guess I'll take a beer."

The woman rolls her eyes again and grabs you a bottle of Coors and twists the cap off.

You turn and take a sip, leaning against the counter while the guys set up. Your eyes move from Gareth, Jeff, Doug, and finally land on Eddie. His brows are furrowed as he tunes his guitar. You're not sure what is it but he seems even hotter right now. Maybe it's the low lighting of the bar or maybe some weird chemicals from the old factory are getting in your system.

Feeling eyes on him, Eddie looks up and sees you staring his way. He smirks and gives you a wink before continuing to tune his guitar.

"Be careful around that one," the woman at the counter says.

You turn around and face the woman, "Whaddaya mean?"

She scoffs, "Just be careful around him. Junior's just like his dad. No good."

"No offense, lady, but I'm not sure you're a great judge of character considering," you gesture to the run down bar.

The woman looks at you unamused, "Just watch yourself around him."

"Around who?" Eddie asks, taking a spot beside you at the counter.

You smirk as you face him, "Word on the street is that you're bad news, pretty boy."

Eddie grins, "Bad news? Me?" he stands back, arms open wide, "Look at me. I'm an angel."

"So was Lucifer before he fell from Heaven."

"Touché," he states and you watch as he checks you out again with no subtlety, "So, we're all set up. You ready?"

"Like the goddess Pat Benatar once said, hit me with your best shot, Munson."

Eddie takes your hand and brings you to the front of the stage. He hops onto the wooden platform and yells into the mic, "Welcome to the Hideout, everyone! I'm Eddie Munson and we're Corroded Coffin!"

Gareth slams his drumsticks together and then begins to play with the rest of the guys.

You nod your head to the beat, eyes never wavering from Eddie as he sings and plays his guitar. He truly is mesmerizing when he's in his element.

As he sang, he kept his eyes on you. To be fair, there wasn't anyone else he could really look at besides the few drunkards littered around the bar. You're definitely the most attractive person here, aside from Eddie.

___________________________

After a few more songs, Eddie thanks the "crowd" and they end their set. He immediately hops down from the stage after gently setting down his guitar. He waltzes over to you with a proud grin, "So?"

You nod, "Not bad, Van Halen. You got a lot of potential."

"Thanks. There's someone who actually wants us to sign with a record label she works for, but we need to record a demo, which costs money. Hence me working in this shit hole," he gestures around and the woman yells from the counter, "I CAN FIRE YOU RIGHT NOW IF YOU WANT!"

"Sorry, Bev!" he looks at you with a shrug, then nods to the bar, "Can I get you another drink? Or I can make one for you?"

You scrunch your nose up, "I'm good. Not sure if your boss there cleans the cups well."

Eddie chuckles, "Oh they're clean. I'm the one who does the dishes, not Bev."

"I'm good with this for now," you lift your beer bottle, still not finished because you were so focused on watching Eddie perform.

Eddie stuffs his hands in his jean pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet, "Sooo...whatcha doing after this?"

"Going home? Eddie, it's almost midnight."

"So? There's the diner downtown that's open late. Just drop the brat off at home and we can go."

"Where are we going?" Gareth asks with a smile.

"You're going home. Eddie and I are gonna hang."

"Hang or ba-"

"Do you actually want know if I'm gonna bang your friend, Gareth?"

Your cousin grimaces, "God, no! Gross! Disgusting!"

"Get a grip, kid," Eddie shoves Gareth by the shoulder and your cousin stumbles back.

"Jeez. Okay. Well, we're packing up. Can I see your keys?" Eddie tosses him his keys and he goes to help Jeff and Doug lug the gear to Eddie's van.

You lean against the bar counter and look at Eddie with a cocked brow, "So, pretty boy, is what Bev says true? You trouble?"

"Only the best kind of trouble," he replies with a look that just makes you melt inside.

"Alright. I'll bite. Meet me back at Gareth's then?"

"See you then," he gives you a wink and goes back to the stage to help the rest of the guys put away the equipment.

_____________________

Back at Gareth's, you're rushing around the guest room trying to fix up your hair and touch up your makeup. You made sure that you wore the least embarrassing bra and underwear, just in case.

Your cousin stood in your doorway pouting, "I hate this."

You stop and sigh, "Gareth, we're literally just going to the diner downtown. We're not getting married."

"Okay just...make sure whatever this is doesn't effect my friendship with Eddie."

"Pretty sure it'll end up being just a one night stand, which I'm fine with. And you know me, I don't make things into a big deal. Does he?"

"Not really."

"Then you should be fine."

You hear a soft knock at the front door and rush out of the room. When you pull open the door, Eddie staring at you with a grin, "Ready?"

"Yup!"

You turn and ruffle Gareth's hair, "Don't stay up too late, Gare."

"Yeah, yeah, and use protection. Don't wanna be an uncle yet!"

You give him a thumbs up and head to Eddie's van. He opens the passenger door for you and closes it when you hop it.

He promptly slips into the driver's seat. As soon as the van roars to life, Metallica is blasting through the speakers. He drives away from your aunt and uncle's, looking at you with a mischievous grin on his face. Something is telling you that this is a night you'll never forget.

Part 3

[bebemoon]

look for the name: MALENA

akasha's golden jewelry harness top in "queen of the damned" (2oo2) (as i couldn't find the harness i was originally looking for, please accept this screenshot instead<;3)

john galliano maroon bias-cut silk chiffon evening slip gown, s/s 1993

christian lacroix gold metal heart choker necklace

bienaimé "vermeil" eau de parfum

alexander mcqueen golden sculptural wedge heels

[ofstoriesandstardust]

quarter life crisis (j.h.s.)

a/n: this is wildly influenced by my own life so i have no idea if this is even relatable but you can have it anyways.

summary: Rejection from a potential grad school stings more than they realize.

inspired by taylor bickett’s “quarter life crisis” | part of the maroon universe

warnings: implied/referenced sex, swearing, age gap (reader is 22, Jake is 33), alcohol mentions, writing this was kind of cathartic, 

word count: 5,757

Unfortunately, we are unable to offer you a place in our program at this time...

The bright screen wavers in front of you as you blink back the stinging of your tears. Your boyfriend’s hand rubs comfortably on your back as you shut the lid of the laptop, slumping down in your chair. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend who was one of the best Naval aviators in the country. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just Stanford.” 

Just Stanford, like it wasn’t one of the top schools in the country. 

Aim for the skies, your Dad always said. 

“Yeah.” You mutter, sliding off the chair at the counter of the kitchen island. 

“You have like what, seven other programs?” He says, following you as you walk towards the fridge. “You’ll get into the program that’s meant for you. Besides, I selfishly didn’t want you going so far from me.” 

You sigh, turning to face your boyfriend. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend who wouldn’t ever know the sting of rejection. 

Rejection and Jake Seresin were antonyms, words that would never go together, polar opposites. 

Much like you and Jake. 

Jake, a 33-year-old established Naval aviator with two confirmed kills who had his whole career right in front of him. 

You, a 22-year-old college graduate with no direction and no idea what she was doing. 

You and Jake were antonyms, people that would never go together, polar opposites. 

“Yeah.” You say, realizing you’ve been quiet for too long as Jake’s eyebrows furrow. 

“Sweetheart-” He says before cutting himself off, looking a bit at a loss. “What can I do to make it better?” 

You shrug, giving him a small smile. “Nothing. Why don’t you go on to the Hard Deck without me? Think I’m gonna take a minute.” 

He hesitates. “You sure?”

You breath out, crossing your arms as you nod. “Positive.” 

He nods, still looking a bit skeptical as he leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “See you soon?” 

“Yeah.” 

-

You groan, rolling over as you blink awake. The TV is still on, the title screen for Treasure Planet pulled up as you search for your phone. 

It’s a tough task, ensnared in a tangle of blankets and squinting from the too bright TV in a pitch black living room. You finally latch on to it, wedged between two cushions, quickly looking away as the bright screen lights up at you. 

Your head pounds as you struggle to turn the brightness down on the phone, the cry you’d had earlier leaving your throat dry and head in need of a painkiller. You swallow, throat feeling like sandpaper as you struggle to sift through the 49 text messages, not to mention the 8 missed calls. 

You don’t think you’d ever been so popular. 

The texts are mostly from Jake, a handful from Brad and Nat and Reuben and even one from your Dad (Sorry to hear about Stanford kid). 

The calls are all from Jake though. 

Hey, it’s been a while, where are you? Call me back. 

Hey, this is the fourth time I called you, why aren’t answering?

Hey, I’m starting to get worried. Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone. Please call me back. 

I will drive to your house. I know where your Dad keeps the spare key. Please just call me back and tell me you’re okay. 

Okay, okay, I get the hint. You want to be left alone. Just send a smoke signal that you’re alive or something? I’m just kind of worried about you. Okay, I- Okay, talk to you later. 

You groan, a quick glance at the time telling you it’s almost midnight. You must’ve cried yourself to sleep for an unintended six hour nap. You shoot off a quick text to Jake, letting him know you just fell asleep. You respond to the meme Reuben sent you, confirming the two of you were still on for drinks with kids from your high school tomorrow, friends of his he still kept in touch with. You knew Max and Lauren and Joy and Tristan and Cody when you went to school, but you’d never been quite cool enough to hang out with them.  

You pull the fridge open, searching for the leftover pizza best you can with the bright LED lights in the fridge. 

“What are you doing?” You yelp, turning around as you see Maverick standing there in his pajamas, half-asleep. 

“Getting food... sorry, did I wake you?” 

He shakes his head, yawning. “Jake called, asked if we heard from you. You were asleep when we came in so I just wanted to make sure you were still here.” 

You nod, glancing down at your phone. Jake still hadn’t texted you back. “Yeah, I just texted him.” 

“Okay, well, I’m going back to bed. Sorry about the Stanford decision.” 

You give a half-shrug. “Just Stanford.” 

He blindly pats your shoulder before yawning again. “K, goodnight.” And then he’s shuffling back to the stairs to go to bed as you groan, shutting the fridge. 

-

“You look pretty.” Penny comments as you walk into the Hard Deck. 

“Thank you.” 

“Got a hot date?” Amelia teases. 

“Nope, just drinks with Reuben.” 

“Let me go put this box in the back and then we’re good to go, yeah?” You nod as Reuben rounds the bar with the box in his hands. He pauses, turning back to you. “Do you remember Anna who went to high school with us?” 

You blink, nodding slowly. 

Of course you remembered her. She’d been your best friend for seven years. 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you hear she was engaged?” 

You nod again as Jake’s arm slides around your waist. “I did hear that, yeah.” 

“Well, her and her fiancé are in town, Tyler I think his name is, and so I invited them to go with us.” 

You nod as Reuben turns, heading for the back. 

“Hi sweetheart.” Jake whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

“Sorry I disappeared last night.” You whisper back, but Jake doesn’t get a chance to respond as Bradley cuts through the conversation. 

“Weren’t you and Anna, like best friends?” Bradley asks, taking a sip of his beer. “I remember her because she had a huge crush on me, which was always kind of strange. She was like my second sister.” 

“Yeah, well Anna decided to stop being friends with me a long time ago.” You say with a sigh. 

“You and Anna were friends?” Reuben asks, coming back into the room. 

You nod. “For like seven years.” 

“I never knew that.” He said, eyebrows furrowing. “I never even saw you guys talk to each other at school.” 

You huff out a laugh, feeling somewhat bitter. “Yeah, because I wasn’t cool enough to be seen with her. It would ruin her street cred.” 

“That’s shitty.” Jake comments, tugging you between his legs to rest his chin on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

You give a half-shrug, blinking back the sting of tears yet again. 

“It’s whatever.” 

It’s not whatever. 

You’d known Anna since you were eleven years old, since the two of you stood next to each other in line for your English class on the first day of the 6th grade, becoming friends because the two of you were wearing the same shirt but in different colors. 

Anna was at your house more often than not. You’d been the first person she’d called when her brother got cancer. You’d walked to her house after your parents told you that they were getting a divorce. She used to come over whenever your Dad had cancer treatments and make pancakes with you and watch Glee so you didn’t have to think about it. 

And then one day, at the start of your senior year, she’d cut you out. Blocked your number and stopped talking to you. She’d shown back up again before you started college but hadn’t stuck around very long that time either. 

She’d disappeared for a few years and came back with a fiancé who was her soulmate and a successful job in a new city across the country. 

And here you were, back in San Diego, with a shiny new grad school rejection and a dead end bartending job your Dad had hooked up for you and a boyfriend you hadn’t said I love you to yet. 

Comparatively, one of you was doing better than the other and it wasn’t the one who had gotten screwed over. 

It made your chest burn, thinking about how you had always thought you’d be there when she got engaged and had to find out from Instagram of all places. 

Put a lot of things into perspective for you. 

You blink, realizing you’ve been quiet for too long again as the group stares at you. “Sorry.” 

Reuben watches you carefully. “You ready to go?” 

You take a shaky breath, nodding. “Yep, let’s go.” 

-

“Reuben!” Max yells as the two of you walk over. “Took you long enough!” 

Reuben laughs, pulling Max into a hug before introducing you. Max nods, giving you a side hug as Lauren’s eyes light up at the sight of you. 

“You were in our AP Literature class.” Max says, pulling away from you.

Lauren groans, leaning over the table to give you a hug. “Don’t bring that class up, Maxwell. I’m still not over the fact that we all failed the AP test.” 

“Yeah, I’d like to not revisit the year Max and I dated.” Joy says, offering you a smile from across the table. 

Max sticks out his tongue at her as your and Reuben sit at the table. “You remember Tristan, yeah?” 

You nod as he raises his glass to you. “Good to see you again.”

“Glad to see we all survived that awful AP Lit class.” 

“And then I don’t think you ever met my older brother Cody?” 

“You got bumped up to my History class your freshman year, right?” Cody asks as he extends a hand over the table. You nod, confirming his words as you shake his hand. 

“Hey Cody, I was in that class too!” Anna protests from the end of the table. 

You offer the girl a small smile. “Hi Anna.” 

“You know, I didn’t know the two of you were friends.” Reuben comments, gesturing between you and Anna. 

“She was too busy pretending I didn’t exist.” You mutter under your breath, doing your best to disguise the words with a cough. 

“Okay, why don’t you boys go get us drinks?” Lauren asks. 

“So you can sit here and gossip and have girl talk?” Max says, raising his beer to his lips with a smirk. 

“Yes. Get lost.” Joy deadpans. The boys grumble but follow her orders, even Anna’s fiancé following the group. 

“So how have you been?” Lauren asks, a genuine small lighting up her face. 

You shrug. “Pretty good.” 

“Are you and Reuben dating?” Joy asks, earning a nudge from Lauren. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, God no. We’re just co-workers, pretty sure my Dad put him up to this, always saying I need to get out of the house. Besides, I have a boyfriend.” 

“How is your Dad?” Anna asks, taking Max’s chair so she could scoot closer. 

“Good. He’s good. He and Maverick just celebrated their anniversary and he’s in remission.” 

“So... backtrack, boyfriend?” Lauren says, propping her head up on a closed fist. “Please, do tell.” 

“Can I see a picture?” Anna asks. You nod, pulling your phone out from your back pocket, swiping through for an acceptable photo of the two of you. You land on a picture from a barbecue Penny had hosted recently, a picture Javy had taken of the two of you when neither of you were paying attention. 

His smile was wide, hair messy from rolling around in the grass all afternoon as the team played football. Your arms were around his neck, his hands on your waist as the both of you smile, deep in conversation. 

“His name is Jake. He’s a Navy pilot and works with Bradley and Maverick. It’s how we met.” 

“Dating a flyboy, I’m sure your dad is thrilled.” Anna comments, raising her eyebrows. “Isn’t he- He’s kind of out of your league. No offense.” 

And there it is. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend, out of your league. 

Of course it was something you knew, but not something you needed to hear, least of all from her. 

“Oh, he’s cute.” Lauren coos, peering over at the phone. “How serious is it?” 

You shrug. “Dunno, we’ve only been dating for a few months. Just kind of seeing where it goes.” 

“Don’t be fooled, Jake’s hopelessly in love with her.” Reuben comments as the boys appear back at the table. 

“I don’t know about that.” You say, taking a gulp of the drink Reuben has set down in front of you. 

“Is the sex good?” Joy asks, causing you to choke. 

“What?” You choke out, lungs burning. 

“Well, is it?” 

“Um-” 

“You don’t have to answer that.” Max intervenes, tossing a look at Joy. 

“No, I’m with Joy. He looks like he knows how to fuck, I’m curious if he’s good.” 

“Lauren!” Reuben protests, crossing his arms. “Back off.” 

“I second that.” Tristan says. 

“Oh, please like you didn’t hear about Joy’s sex life when she dated Max.” Lauren says, narrowing her eyes. 

“So?” Anna prompts. “Is he good in bed?” 

You shrink back, suddenly aware that everyone’s looking at you. 

You had told Jake that you hadn’t really been with any one else. Not any one meaningful, anyways. You doubted that the sex was as good for him as it was you, but you hardly had anything to compare to. 

“I mean, he’s a six foot Navy aviator with an ego. What do you think?” 

Joy raises an eyebrow. “And what about size?” 

“Absolutely not, do not answer that. I still have to serve him at the Hard Deck, please do not give me intimate details about Seresin’s dick size.” 

“I wasn’t going to...?” You say, offering him a curious look. “You picked me up after the first time we hooked up. If I was going to tell you any intimate details, I would’ve by now.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, what?” Lauren says, waving her hands.

You sigh. “Jake and I hooked up as a one-night stand before we ever officially got together. I sort of fled the morning after and Reuben picked me up.” 

“Man’s knows how to leave a hickey, that’s for sure.” Reuben mutters. 

“Okay, let’s talk about literally anything else.” Max says, cutting the conversation off. “You applying to grad schools or anything?” 

“Yeah. Just kind of vibing at the moment, though.” 

“Didn’t-” Rueben start, but then cuts himself off, frowning. “Never mind.” 

“Yeah, please don’t bring that up right now.” You mutter. “What about you Max? What’ve you been up to?” 

“Bring up what?” Anna asks. 

Reuben sighs, glancing at you. “Nothing.” 

It’s too late, everyone looking at you now. 

“I just- I just found out I got rejected from a grad school yesterday. That’s all.” 

That fact that it was Stanford you got rejected from goes unspoken. 

“What happened to the gifted kid we all knew in high school?” Anna laughs. 

“Burned out in college trying to be good enough for her parents.” You snap, shooting Anna a look. “She’s currently having a quarter-life crisis and would like everyone to please stop asking her about it, so Max, what have you been up to?” 

The boy just blinks.

-

“How was drinks?” 

“Awful.” You groan, all but collapsing on to the couch next to Maverick. 

Reuben sighs, sticking in his hands in his pockets. “I don’t remember Anna being such a bitch.” 

“You don’t maybe. I do.” You say, sitting up to look at him. 

“Anna who always spent a lot of time around here?” Maverick asks. You nod and he clicks his tongue. “I never liked her all that much.”

You sigh. “How she behaved tonight? That’s how she treated me for seven years and I just let her. And yet she’s still the one who’s doing better.” 

Reuben nods, conceding to you. “Well, if Anna doesn’t come with us again, would you want to come back out with us?” 

You shrug. “I guess.” 

“You don’t like them?” 

“No, I think they’re great people. I don’t think they like me very much.” 

Reuben scoffs. “What’re you talking about? Lauren and Max adore you. As does Tristan, they want you to come back out with us. You should’ve seen Lauren’s face when I said you were coming tonight.” 

You sigh, unsure of how to explain to him that you felt like you would never escape who you were in high school, like they’d look at you and still see that girl you had been. 

It really hadn’t been that long since you’d been at the high school that had made you feel suffocated with a life that felt dead-end. 

Rueben was great, he’d always been. The best thing about him was his heart. 

And his friends were great too. 

But in high school, the lines had been drawn in the sand. You knew where you stood with them and it was about several social status levels below them. 

Just because you now had a pretty, perfect boyfriend didn’t change that. 

Reuben says your name, making you realize you’ve once against fallen silent for too long. “Sorry, what?” 

“We’ll do next time on your turf, okay? You can pick wherever and whatever.” 

You sigh, standing up from the couch. “Reuben, just leave it, okay? We’re never gonna gel as friends.” 

“You and them? Or us?” He asks, with a frown on his face. 

You wince, internally cursing your slip. “Reuben-”

“You still think I care that you might've been, what? A little dorky in high school?  I saw a girl who was bright and intelligent and passionate. What did it matter that she went on a few tangents about the State of Union address because her Dad was there? You were one of the smartest people I interacted with in high school.” 

You want to snap and say, yeah that’s the problem. I was the smartest kid you knew and knew exactly what I wanted and now I struggle to get up in the morning because I don’t even know who I am anymore. 

But all you can do is sigh and look at Reuben. He scoffs, shaking his head, stalking to the front door before slamming it shut. Maverick winces as you struggle not to cry again. 

“What the fuck was that about?” 

“Nothing, I’m just a drama queen.” You mutter. “I’m going to bed.” 

-

“Hi.” You look up from where you’re cleaning glasses to see Lauren and Max. 

“Hey, Reuben’s just in the back if you want me to go grab him for you.” You offer, sticking a thumb to the back where Reuben was helping Penny sort the new delivery you got today. 

Lauren shakes her head. “No. I just-” She sighs, looking at Max. “We just wanted to come say that well, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I love you, I think you’re great, and I’d love for you to come back out with us sometime.” 

You huff out a laugh, setting the glass down. “Reuben put you up to this?” 

She frowns. “No?” 

Max sighs. “Look, I don’t even like Anna. None of us liked Anna, the only one who was friends with her was Reuben.” 

“That’s only because she was a part of a different friend group.” Reuben says, appearing from the back with another crate of clean glasses. 

You snort, grabbing the crate from him. “Funny to me you had multiple friend groups, I didn’t even have one.” 

“Oh, c’mon, you had a friend group.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah? Who, Reuben?” 

He falters, clearly struggling think of someone. 

“Reuben, I didn’t even get asked to prom. Let’s call a spade a spade, I was a loser.” 

“I think you had your head so far in a book no one ever got a chance to see how great you are.” Lauren amends, offering you a kind smile. “And I’d love if you came and hung out with us again. And we will stop asking about your sex life, I promise.” 

“Why, she doesn’t want to brag?” Jake drawls, appearing next to Lauren. 

“No!” Reuben exclaims. “No intimate details about his dick size! I can’t do it!″ 

Jake gives Reuben a confused look as you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“This is your boyfriend?” Max asks. You nod. He extends a hand to Max and then Lauren. 

“Jake Seresin.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Lauren says. “You like escape rooms, right? We could do one of those? Boys versus girls.” 

“I don’t know, the last time I did one of those it was with my Mom and I have it on good authority I’m a bit bossy.” 

“The prehistoric ages, when your Mom was around.” Bradley says, appearing next to Jake at the bar. 

“Shut up Bradshaw.” Natasha mutters, wedging herself in between him and Jake. 

“Aw, she’s making friends. It’s like kindergarten all over again, this is so cute.” Coyote teases, appearing behind the group. 

“Reuben and I both have next Monday off. How about laser tag?” You ask, ignoring Coyote even as your cheeks warm. 

Reuben coughs awkwardly. “I’m gonna bow out of this one, thanks.” 

Max startles. “What? Why?”

Reuben shrugs, not sparing you glance. “Cody and I already have plans.”

“Since when?” Lauren asks incredulously. 

“Since last night.” You mutter under your breath. “It’s okay, I think I’m supposed to get dinner with my Dad’s that night. You know, family thing.” 

“We are?” Bradley asks. 

“No, just me and them.” You lie, praying Bradley just accepts it and moves on.

Lauren nods unconvinced. “Well, our door is always open. Just give us a holler, we’ll be around.” 

-

“What happened to dinner with your Dad’s?” 

You grunt, picking up another rock and tossing it in the lake. 

Lake Murray had become little more than a pond over the years, but with the park nearby and walking trails all around it, it became a great place to come to hide away when you needed to think. 

“You know, you are one hard lady to find.” 

“Shut up Jake.” You mutter. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend was a liar. He’d had your location since the time you’d gotten too drunk and had just hit share indefinitely when he’d come to pick up from the bar. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“No.” You say honestly, not having been okay in months. 

Still, it stung even more today, waking up to another rejection from a grad school program, this time from your alma mater. 

Jake sighs. “What’s going on?” 

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

He huffs. “I’m worried about you.” 

The Why? sits in your throat, crushed by the guilt that you’ve been making your pretty, perfect boyfriend worry about you. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Is what you mumble out instead, kicking another rock, watching it tumble down the edge towards the lake. 

“Would you please talk to me?” He all but begs, a hint of desperation in his voice. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you got the Stanford decision back and I want to know what’s up with my girlfriend.” 

His girlfriend, who he hasn’t even said I love you to yet, making you wonder if he ever would.

Rationally, you knew it was early, especially if this relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It was unreasonable to expect Jake to return your feelings and it was unreasonable to expect Jake to commit to a girl who didn’t have her shit together. 

“It’s nothing.” You say, keeping your eyes on the deep blue water, slowly lapping at the shore. If you strain your ears you could hear the screaming of kids at the park across the way. 

You hear him shuffle behind you, moving closer, but he doesn’t sit down. “Sweetheart.” He says, but stops. 

You sigh, your heart aching with want, begging you to turn around give him a hug. To let him pull you close and run his fingers through his hair, whispering that it’ll be okay and that he isn’t go anywhere. 

Maybe it would be better if the two of you broke up. 

Maybe he would be better off without you. 

You’re quiet for too long because Jake is sighing and you can hear him take a few steps back. “You want to be alone?” 

You nod. 

He leaves.

-

You blink, the tears stinging at your eyes as Lauren posts a picture of her and Joy with a handful of other girls that had been friends with them in high school. 

my girls xx is what she posts on the story of them out getting drinks and you have to close the app before the stories can continue on.

You sigh, letting the phone rest on your chest as you hear Maverick downstairs, crooning along to Voulez-Vous as he cooks dinner with your Dad. You should put your phone away, pull yourself together enough to go down there, and spend time with them. It’d probably do wonders for you to take a break from your phone, from social media, where it feels like everyone is living a better life than you would ever have. 

Your phone buzzes on your chest but you don’t bother to check it, still just listening the commotion from downstairs. Maverick has set the fire alarm off again. 

There’s a knock against your window, causing you to startle. With big windows that overlooked the ocean, birds would occasionally fly into the glass, but this was definitely more of a knock than a thud. 

You lift your head, catching sight of your boyfriend’s blonde hair shining in the setting evening sun, casting a warm orange glow over the room. 

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself, pulling yourself off the bed and over to window, pulling it open. He grins at you. 

“Pizza delivery.” 

You blink, staring at him. “How the fuck did you get up here? Why are you up here?” 

He shrugs. “A magician never tells their secret and you weren’t answering your phone. C’mon, come have a picnic with me.” He nods his head down to the sandy area just off of your back porch. You know it’s conveniently just out of sight for either of your Dads if they were to walk past the sliding glass doors. You sigh, shaking your head. “Give me two minutes.” 

He nods as you shut the window. You pad down the stairs, slipping into the kitchen for the bottle of champagne leftover from your grad party months ago. Maverick grins at you as you pull the bottle from the fridge. 

“Doing some day drinking?” He asks. 

“Something like that.” You say, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. He eyes them. “In case, you know, I spill.” He nods, giving you an unconvinced look. 

“Jake’s outside, isn’t he?” He whispers. 

“Maybe.” You whisper back as your Dad emerges form the pantry. 

“What’re we whispering about?” He asks and Maverick gives him a grin. 

“About how I find you so sexy, baby-”

You groan, cutting the man off. “Gross, stop. I’m going outside to enjoy the sunset.” 

Your Dad nods, too preoccupied with Maverick. You’d tell them they better be careful or the food will burn again but it’d distract your Dad and you know Maverick is giving you an opportunity to get outside unquestioned. 

You slip out on to the patio, catching sight of Jake resting on the blankets he’s laid out, pizza boxes open in front of him. 

You set the champagne down along with the glasses, catching sight of the white box. You open it as he pops open the champagne, revealing the chocolate-covered strawberries. 

“Pizza and chocolate-covered strawberries? Thought you said the bar was in hell if this was romance.” You tease, sliding the box back across the blankets. He huffs out a laugh as you settle down on to the blankets. 

“Well, maybe I could be learning a thing or two from Troy Bolton.” 

-

Your head rests against Jake’s thigh, his head propped up near your feet. You feel warm, the alcohol and good food coursing through you as you watch the setting sun turns blood red at the horizon. Jake’s other hand is resting on your foot, thumb gently running over your ankle. 

“Thanks for doing this.” You say and he gives you a smile. A genuine one, not the lazy grins he usually he puts on for the rest of the world. 

“Anything for you darling.” He pauses for a moment, his movements on your ankle continuing. “But I do want to talk about why you’ve been so weird lately.” 

You shrug, shifting. “I’m just feeling weird, I guess. Call it a quarter life crisis or whatever, but I’m just feeling a bit strange.” 

“How so?” 

“I don’t know. I’m not where I thought I’d be at 22, which is so stupid because I have my whole life laid in front of me and yet I- I always thought I’d have my life figured out. I’d know what I want to do and where I’m going. I’d have my forever relationship and my forever group of friends. But I’m getting rejected from grad schools left and right, I’ve got no solid group of friends. I hang out with my pseudo-brother’s friends most of the time and work a job my Daddy got for me. I live at home, for Christ’s sake. And it’s not that I don’t enjoy being with you because I l-” You pause, cutting yourself off, almost reeling at the fact that you'd almost let the words slip out. 

You loved Jake Seresin but you were uncertain he loved you in return. 

“I do like being with you. But all my friends from school, they’re engaged or married and have solid careers or amazing grad school offers and best friends they have game nights with and weekly drinks and I don’t know, they fucking meal prep together. And it’s added on to the fact that I’m like sort of friends with Reuben now, who I always thought was so cool in high school. You know, he had that life. He went to the football games and had dates to dances and surfed and had friends to hang out with. Still does. And I’m realizing I’m sort of starting to grieve a life I didn’t have in high school. You know, a life I could’ve had if my life had been just a bit more stable. My Dad had his cancer treatments and my parents were locked into this nasty court battle over child support. Not even over me but how much money I was worth. Maverick was never around, Bradley too, and I’m just-” You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m upset because I could’ve had that life in high school if I wasn’t busy taking care of myself and making sure I stayed alive. If I wasn’t busy trying to make it into college because I knew it was the only way I’d make something of myself, the only way I’d be worth something in my parent’s eyes.”

You sit up, the tears slipping down your face. “I feel like a failure. And even more than I feel like a failure, I’m angry at losing out on all I could’ve had but didn't get because of my parents.” Your voice is raw and wet as Jake sits up too, pulling you close to his chest. “My whole identity for so long has been about my academic success and now that the academics don’t want me, I have no idea who the fuck I am.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispers into your hairline, pressing a soft kiss there. 

You hiccup. “How? I’m a mess.” 

He chuckles, pulling back slightly. “I’m proud of you because you did survive. I agree, it’s not fair to you that you had to raise yourself. I’m proud of you though because you got through all that and now you get this amazing opportunity to learn who you really are without all the books and smarts.” 

You shrug, glancing away from him. 

He sighs, cupping your chin. “Sweetheart, just because the academic success goes away doesn’t take away from how wonderfully brilliant you are. You are so intelligent, and I, for one, am so excited to see who you become in this next stage of your life. I think I’ve already gotten glimpses of her and I-” He swallows, pushing some of your hair away from your face. “I love her so fucking much.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as you look back to him. 

“I love you sweetheart.” He licks his lips nervously, eyes darting around your face as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I know this is probably bad timing but- but it sounds like you needed to hear it. And I know I don’t fix it or make it go away, but- I’m here.” A new wave of tears hits you and Jake pulls you back to his chest. “I know I’m not high school or prom or Stanford, but I-” 

“Jake, shut up.” You say, wiping at your eyes as you try to push the tears back. He snaps his mouth shut, falling silent, even as he hand falls to your waist to rub circles into your side. “I love you. So much, you have no idea.” 

He smiles. “Good to know.” 

You groan, wiping at your eyes again. “God, I ruined our date. I’m sorry.” 

“Sweetheart, no.” He says firmly, scooting back. “I’m glad you felt like you could talk to me about this. I get that it’s probably hard to voice and I’m happy to know you’re comfortable talking about these things with me.” 

You sniff, giving him a half-shrug. “Still-”

“No. None of that. C’mere.” He says, pulling you to his chest and then laying down on the blankets. “I love you, darling.” 

“I love you too.” You whisper back, nuzzling closer into him as he runs his fingers through your hair. You sit there for a while, the sun going from red hues to a dusky purple. 

“I have a question.” He asks.

“Go for it.” 

“Why did Reuben make that comment about not wanting to know my dick size?” 

You groan. 

[dw19791967]

That Type of Girl Part 3

Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of self-hate.

This is the third fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me!

______________________________

What does one wear to church? I wouldn’t know since I never really went as a kid and as an adult well, once you know who God really is, it can be hard to get past that. 

I decided on a long oversized maroon sweater, black leggings, and boots. I never really was a heels girl. Sure, I could handle a wedge or boots with a chunky heel, but I definitely wasn’t the type to wear six inch heels. I decided to leave my hair in its natural state, but I did twist my bangs together and pinned them back. I can’t braid, no matter how many times I have tried to learn. So twisting two pieces together is my go to, especially to get hair out of my face. I applied my regular makeup routine. I do it for me, not to impress people. I may be overweight and unappealing in other aspects but my makeup is something I am proud of. Years of practice have helped make it easy, and quick.

I walked out of the bathroom ready to go. “Alright boys, let’s do this.”

__________________

When we arrived at the church not a ton people were there. There was a small group gathered. A few women, they seemed to be in their late 20’s and a couple of men who seemed to be around the same age.

“Ok Y/N you ready? Remember, Dean and I will be here if you need us. We are going to try to scope the place out a bit” Sam looked at me. I am glad he was confident in my people skills, cause right now I am not. I do fine talking with people I know and even strangers. But the pressure of trying to force a conversation can be a struggle sometimes. And since Dean didn’t seem too confident in my skills earlier, I have been dreading this. How is it that the man who is supposedly my best friend, doesn’t believe I am capable of doing something I have done a hundred times before. 

“I guess.” I started heading towards the group of people.

__________________

We just arrived back at the motel. Sam sat down next to me “Well we found nothing, we checked all over the place. Nothing suspicious, no sulfur or EMF.” 

“Yeah and all the single chicks were a bust too.” Dean smiled.

Of course he would be worried about chasing tail.

I sighed. “Ok, I talked to a group of people at the church. They mentioned a guy Sarah worked with, his name was Ryan not sure on last name (Sarah was the most recent victim). They also mentioned Sarah had a crush on a dude at the church, Marshall. And last one, she had talked to Rick quite a bit at the church. One of the ladies said Rick has just been in town the last 2 weeks. Something seems off with Rick, but I’m not really sure what.” I looked over the case files again. I always like to make sure I am not missing anything.

“Well since we are at a stand still, I say it’s time to hit the bar. We need a break from researching and thinking.” Dean stood up.

“Maybe you're right, we can take a break and come back to it later.” Sam looked at me. “What do you say Y/N?”

“I think I’m going to stay here, try to figure out what is happening. Something is wrong in this whole equation.” I kept reading the files. I am also not in the mood to see Dean flirt tonight. But I will keep that thought to myself.

“Well party pooper, call if you need us.” Dean patted my shoulder. 

Maybe a break from the boys will do me some good.

I had just changed into a t-shirt and took my makeup off when there was a knock at the door. I figured one of the boys was back and forgot their key.

“I swear you guys can’t survive without me.” I headed for the door.

I cracked the door open. Rick. What the hell is he doing here?

“Hi Y/N, I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I just wanted to check on you and see if you maybe needed anything.” He rubbed the back of his neck. A nervous tick maybe.

“Um, I appreciate that. How did you know I was here?” This is weird for sure.

“Oh my aunt owns this motel, so I checked with her and she said you were here. She also mentioned you had two guys with you. Are you going to let me in?” He smiled at me.

“Uh, I guess.” I grabbed my knife and stuck it in the back of my leggings. A girl can never be too safe.

“So who are the guys here with you, brothers?” Rick made his way into the room.

“No, just friends. They came to be supportive. Can I get you a beer or water?” I had told the group of people at the church I was a cousin of Sarah’s, since she had no family in town it was an easy lie.

“I’ll have a beer, thanks.” I handed him the drink. “So where are your friends?”

“Out, they should be back shortly.” I was getting nervous. Something was not right here. 

“Oh I doubt that Y/N. You know Dean always enjoys working on his night moves.” Rick's eyes flashed black. Next thing I know everything went black.

Oh I am so screwed.

_______________

“Wakey, wakey sunshine. God, I can’t believe how stupid you are for a hunter. Who the hell lets someone they barely know into their hotel room?" Rick poked at me.

We were in an abandoned warehouse. I was cuffed to a chair. This wasn’t exactly how I planned on my night going.

“Well, what can I say? I’m prone to making stupid decisions. So why don’t we just cut the foreplay. What do you want? ” I smiled.

Whack. Damn. I almost had forgotten what it was like to get the shit knocked out of me.

“You know, all of the women I took. There was nothing exciting about them. I mean they wonder why they are single. Maybe it’s because they are so damn boring. But you, I mean besides being overweight and homely, there's a certain spark to you. And once I found out you were a hunter, well you had to be my next victim.” He smoothed my hair out.

“So are you doing this for shits and giggles or is there a bigger agenda you are playing into?” He made his way over to a table and brought back a knife. Great.

“Oh sweet Y/N, of course I am doing this for me. You see, I have played by all the rules and followed the main man's plan. But it’s time for me to shine and this is just the beginning. So whatcha say, are you ready to have some fun?” Rick started to slice into my arm.

Lucky for me, I have a high pain tolerance.

“You see, you were an easy target. Your self esteem is so low. Plus can’t forget your little crush on the elder Winchester. What makes you think he would ever look at you twice?” Rick now started slicing my thighs. “I mean you have a pretty face for sure, but you know Dean prefers his women slim. You will never be that type of girl ya know?”

“Screw you. You don’t know the first thing about me. I mean you do realize anything you say to me, I have either heard or said it to myself a thousand times before? Way to be creative.” I laughed. I have always been stubborn. I’m sure as hell not going to stop now.

“You know, you are really starting to get on my nerves. How about I find a way to shut that pretty mouth up. I doubt the Winchesters would even miss your annoying ass.” Rick punched me in the face.

I spit blood out of my mouth. I hope he gets this over with soon.

Tag List:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist

[nctsplug02]

hii, can i request a smut where reader is pregnant and jaehyun got really horny while they were cuddling…

[6;39pm]

GENRE: fluff and smut

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, reader is pregnant, tired reader, horny jaehyun and slight anal play.

you could barely lift your head when hearing the door shut and the locks clicking. “honey, i’m home!” jaehyun shouts and you could hear him kick off his shoes.

“honey?” you could hear him walk into the kitchen before walking upstairs and into the room.

“hey,” your body sinks along with the bed cushion. “why didn’t you answer me, baby?” jaehyun reaches over brushes your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“oh, baby,” he sits up in front of you and cups your face with a pout on his lips. “are you feelin’ okay?” you grin tiredly and nod. “i just woke up from my nap— i’m still so exhausted.” jaehyun sighs with a relived smile.

jaehyun pushes the soft blanket away from your face and below your bump. “how’re my girls?” he looks up at you first. “eh, i wish i was more productive but baby girl just wants me in bed.” he lifts your maroon hoodie and runs his hand over your bump.

“and, what about you, little one?” you and jaehyun both laugh and look at each other when feeling a kick. “i’ll take that as in, ‘i’m good, daddy.’” jaehyun leans in and presses a kiss on your belly.

“wanna cuddle with me and baby?” you ask him and he nods. “i thought you’d never ask.” jaehyun gives you a peck and climbs behind you. “here,” you flip some of the blanket onto him and he softly chuckles.

“oh, and honey?” jaehyun hums and grabs another pillow for himself. “i’m sorry, i didn’t make dinner. i fell asleep waiting for the rice to cook.” he chuckles and sighs. “it’s okay, i order in before i came inside because i had a feeling you hadn’t cooked dinner yet.” he sharply inhales and you tsk and laugh.

you push your ass more into his warmth and snuggle more into the blanket. “‘m so tired,” you mumble, lips pushed together. “and i’m so horny— i’m sorry.” he exhales and knocks his head down.

you reach back and grab his dick making him stutter a groan. “don’t be sorry,” you slowly fist him through his dress pants. “f—fuck, y/n.” he struggles to speak and grabs your wrist.

“n—need to use the bathroom!” jaehyun goes to sit up but you yank his hand and look back at him. “why not use me? i am your wife after all.” you rub the back of his hand and he nearly cums his pants just seeing you bite your lip.

jaehyun has you on your knees, bent forward with a pillow wedged between your bump and thighs. his hand jerking his thick cock as his other hand finger-fucks you into a quick orgasm.

“j—jae,” you moan and lift your face off the fluffed pillow to look back at him. “please fuck me?” jaehyun rubs his tip one last time before removing his fingers from your tight pussy and replacing it with his dick.

your eyes roll back in pleasure while jaehyun lets out a relieved moan. “oh, baby.” you feel jaehyun spread your cheeks as he slowly rocks his hips.

“back it up, baby. fuck my dick like you want it.” jaehyun says slightly pulling your hips. you whine but push your hips back. your ass smacking him as you push back with little force.

“jaaaee,” you whine, hiding your face in the pillow you held for comfort.

you gasp when jaehyun growls and slams his hand against the headboard and against your hips before plowing into you.

you cry out into the pillow as his dick slips back your sweet spot. brushing it softly and giving your stomach the butterflies.

jaehyun reaches down and rubs your bump. “do you like my fat cock fucking you so good?” you bite your lip and shake your head. “n—no,” your toes curl as you clench around him. “i—i fucking love i—it!”

“damn right, you do.” he spanks you making you jerk forward with a cry. “d—do you l—like my tight pu—pussy?” you drop your face into the pillow. “no, baby. i love it.” he slightly tilts his head back with satisfied smirk. “more than i should.” he whispers, bringing his head back down.

jaehyuns eyes focused on your ass bouncing with his rough thrusts. “and this pretty ass.” he grips it and delivers a slap.

“tell me how much you love my dick, baby.” when you don’t answer on time, he delivers another smack. “ah—?! i love it!” you clench around him.

jaehyun shakes his head and warns you about his climax being near. “i—i want it, jae. i want it so bad,” you reach back and pin your hand behind your back, wanting him to do so.

and he does.

he takes your hand and pins it against your lower back. “f—fuck!” jaehyun groans loudly as he releases into you. his hips still plowing into yours as he empties himself.

he pulls out, not caring if the sheets were covered in his cum but flips you over. you gasp as he yanks you by your feet.

“did you think i forgot about you, missy?” he spreads your legs apart and runs his fingers down your slit. “of course, i didn’t.” he brings his mouth and drops it on your clit.

A/N: thank you for requesting. i genuinely forgot to post this at 2 today but sneakylink had other plans and distracted me. SO BLAME HIM FOR MAKING ME POST LATE 😬

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.13<< >>Ch.15

Notes: Lovely date night at a very sensual and romantic spot.

CW: Hot and steamy, but passionate and longing sex. Oral pleasure (F receiving), PinV, light spanking, the neighbors will hear, smut... and maybe slight drama.

Chapter 14: Every Time I Get a Bit Inside, I Feel it

Word count: 9K

Zipping back and forth from your bedroom to the bathroom, you stumbled over your two feet, desperately locating the other thigh-fishnet stocking while trying to put toothpaste on your toothbrush.

“I just had it right here! Did it fall into the freaking void?”

You dipped and scrambled all around the floor near the bed.

“You know what? I’ll come back to it in a bit.” You darted back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Tonight was a special night for you two. It was your first date as a 'semi-official' couple, and you had no clue where exactly he was taking you. All you know is that you woke up to a text specifying what would be the best attire for this particular outing.

A lovely, formal casual is something you could manage. A form-fitting, long-sleeved mini dress, wedges, and your fishnets, if you could find the other one.

Not a single word could describe the anticipation that was bubbling inside. You skipped around, singing your heart out as you got ready, only to lose track of time from bumbling too much. Spitting out the toothpaste residue, you rushed back to the room, aimlessly scouting for that missing piece. 

Bending down on your knees and laying on your torso to search under the bed, you heard the bedroom door squeak open.

“Mm, this is a delightful sight to walk in on.”

Repositioning yourself back up, you twirled your head and gleamed at Miguel. “Miggy! My gosh, every time you dress down, you always have to put me to shame, don’t you?”

“Too much?” He peered down at his tight white button-down, black jeans, and opened blazer.

“No, no, está bien.” 

You rose to your feet and drifted towards him. Noting that one of his arms was behind his back, you closed off any space left between you two. “Going to tell me what’s hiding back there?”

Miguel smirked and leisurely revealed a beautiful bouquet of pink tulips and white daisies, evoking a squeal from you.

“Oh, Miggy, thank you! These are gorgeous. I’m going to quickly put these in a vase right now. Also, can you help me find my other fishnet stocking? The moment it’s found, the sooner we can leave.” You cradled the assortment.

“Si, mi Luna. And take your time; we still have forty minutes left until our reservations.”

“True, but I know you like to be punctual. Gotta have that jumpstart!” You sang out, stepping into your living room to find a new home for the floral.

Miguel smiled and scanned your room. “By the way, you look radiant.” He called out to you, spotting the lone material, loosely tucked underneath a pillow.

“Thank you, but not on par with you." You held the vase before placing it right on your dresser.

“Hey, you emit more beauty than all the moons in the entire universe. And more than me, mi hermosa Luna.” He handed you the fishnet, gazing longingly into your eyes.

“Do you always turn up the charm whenever you're near me?” You slipped past, leaning on your bed to put the tight on.

“Possibly. I will never tell.”

A grin snuck its way up on you. “Thank you for finding it. My shoes and purse are all upfront. Are you ready to head out?” 

Without another comment, Miguel offered his arm, and you gladly took it. 

The night’s sky was clear. A full moon was shining ever so brightly as Miguel hailed a cab for you two. Miguel handed the driver a piece of paper as you questioned where exactly you were headed, but he kept it hushed, saying all would be revealed in due time. Opting to be compliant, you went with the flow as you chattered about whatever sprung up in your minds.

Arriving at the place, you gawked at the corner brick building. Stringed maroon lights suspended down the windows and doors as two granite pillars erected proudly, displaying the entrance sign in brilliant neon cerise, reading Dusk N’ Twilight.

Miguel paid the driver and trekked his way over to your side, opening the car door for you. You took his hand, your eyes fixated, exuberant stare not leaving the exterior.

“Do you like it, mi Luna?” 

“Do I like it? I love it! I've never been to a jazz club before, so I am super excited.”

You shuffled from one foot to another, wrapping your arms around his muscular one.

“Though, I would've expected more people. Especially on a Saturday night.” Wheeling your head back and forth, focusing on the lack of traffic for such a swanky establishment.

“Vamos, mi Luna. Let's not stand out here forever.”

You nodded, and together you took even steps, with Miguel showing off his chivalry by holding the main entry door open.

“Such a gentleman.” You winked and sashayed in, putting on a show for him by wiggling your behind a bit. 

Miguel eyed your figure, his fangs drawing out as he licked them before retracting them. “Cálmate, cálmate. Acabas de llegar.”

Miguel stepped behind, and you took in more of the interior. An erotic, deep red inundated around, even spilling into the hidden crevices. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a lone piano perched in a corner, with a giant stage loaded with different instruments and a microphone adjacent to it. Loveseats, booths, and regular tables lined up, taking up the unoccupied spaces.

You scratched the top of your head in confusion. At the moment, there were only four people, excluding you and Miguel. The waitress and a man maintaining the bar, which was stocked with fancy alcoholic beverages.

Where was everyone else? Was this place exclusive or a gem so hidden that no one has ever heard of it?

“You must be Mr. O'Hara?” The waitress politely smiled at you two.

“Yes.” Miguel pulled his phone out as the waitress glanced down and nodded.

“Alright, perfect. Follow me.”

Grasping your dainty hand once more, you and Miguel traveled near a table less than fifteen feet from the stage.

It was already set with fine china, a bottle of wine chilled in an ice bucket, and rose petals garnishing the silk tablecloth.

Miguel pulled your chair out as you dumbfoundedly plopped yourself in it, bewildered eyes observing all that surrounded you.

The waitress poured the wine into your glasses and rested two menus in front of you both. “My name is Cheyenne, and I will be your waitress this evening. The live music will be out in a few minutes, and the bar is, of course, unlimited. I will give you a bit to glance at the menus, but I'll bring out fresh bread in the meantime. If you need anything, simply call out for me.”

“Thank you.” Miguel bowed his head in acknowledgment as you gave a weary thumbs-up.

“Tha-thank you.” You gulped.

The second she trailed away, you pinned your hands on the surface.

“Miggy, what the heck?” 

Caught off-guard, he planted the menu down and removed his shades, concerned. “What's wrong, mi corazón?” 

“What's wrong? Where is everyone else? Unlimited drinks? Personal service?” You waved your limbs, gesturing to it all.

“It's only going to be me and you tonight, mi Luna.” He plucked the menu back up, skimming over it once again.

Muddled, you flickered your eyelids open and shut before shaking your head.

“Miggy! You didn't have to dip in so much for all of this! How much did this cost?! I will help pay it back if need be; you didn't have to do all of this!”

“Mi corazón, payment wasn't a problem. Everything is okay. Don't worry, mi Luna.”

“Payment wasn't a problem... Mi Estrella, this clearly would have cost a pretty penny if you seemingly rented out the entire buidling.” 

Miguel only shrugged. “It wasn't, honestly, that pricey. It was only a few thousand, nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too—nothing too bad?! Only a few thousand?!” you exclaimed before you caught your tone.

Beginning to sort out any confusion, he was interrupted by steaming, toasted bread brought down and a bowl of whipped butter.

“There we go. Are we ready to order or still need more time?”

“More time, please.” Miguel picked up the serving tongs and placed some bread on his plate and yours.

“Alright. And the entertainment is on its way.” Cheyenne scuffled back into the kitchen, fairly intimidated by Miguel's presence.

“Now, as I was saying, I wanted this to be special, and…”

He was forcibly cut off once again when an entourage of people in button-ups, unraveled ties, slacks, and spiffy dress shoes marched to their respective instruments and took their spot.

The band waved at you two as you meekly bent your fingers, trying to copy the eager motion. And Miguel only gave a half-wave.

Tarrying on the musicians for a bit more, a woman in an off-the-shoulder sequin gown swayed out and took the mic in her hands. Her hair flowed elegantly as the red highlighted the dress, giving it that flare.

“Welcome to Dusk N’ Twilight this fine night, lady and gentleman. Tonight is a very special one, as we have a stunning couple out in the audience. So let me take you two on a magical voyage of velvety wine, shimmering stars, and melodies to fuel that insatiable appetite for love and lust.”

Notes from the saxophone, bass, piano, and singer enriched the scenic environment that connected the two.

“Mi Luna, mi corazón, please let me treat you. You've done so much for me; let me return it by giving you a night to look back with amazing memories.”

That entrancing hold—how the hue blends in with his crimson-brown ones—yet you still see the raw, passionate scorch in them.

You couldn't help but smile.

“Okay, mi Estrella. I'll let you spoil me. Only–only for tonight. But I still have some questions.”

His face crinkled into a high-cheekbone grin as he showed off his pearly whites. You adored every line and scar on his earthy face.

“¿Cómo tuve tanta suerte? ¿Yo, entre todas las personas, terminó con un alma tierna como la tuya? But yes, I will answer whatever question you have; after we order, mi Luna hermosa e iluminadora.”

Wiggling in your seat, you picked up the menu, glancing at the yummy items available. Placing your orders, you both leaned forward, dreamingly, captivated by each other's hypnotic gaze, letting the songs whisk you into the infinite galaxy.

Taking a few sips of wine and bites of bread, you smacked your lips and laid your elbow on the cloth.

“Alright, now tell me. Since when does...” You scrunch your eyes, finding a way to prevent his hero identity from slipping out. “When does your, dutifully, work pay? I thought you did that just because.”

“It doesn't pay.”

“So how the heck did you manage this?”

“You are aware that I have a good amount saved up?”

Miguel could almost see the malfunctioning error processing in your brain.

“No?! How? I know you have that other job, but that doesn't explain much because it's dealing with something in a theoretical sense.”

“A theory that has been proven.”

“Right, right, but it still doesn't explain the seemingly vast amount of, you know.”

“I did tell you I was the leader and founder of the organization, correct?”

You bobbed your head. “Yes, but not the founder part. I don't ever remember you mentioning that you're the creator of it.”

“Huh. I didn't? Strange. Guess I'm fittingly comfortable around you that my brain believed I told you. And I also assumed it was a given because you need permits for properties such as that, and you've seen my high-rise apartment.”

“Yes! But you live there! I'm thinking it's paid for in return for your work!” 

Miguel picked up his wine glass, swirling it. “No. Yes, I live there, but I'm the one who wanted it so I could be closer to my job. It's easier that way.”

He mindlessly took a sip. “There's also the fact that I'm essentially a retired geneticist as well, so I get a pension from that. An evil company, but weird ethics when it comes to rightful pay.”

His eyebrows scrunched, and then he fixed his attention on you. “Didn't I also tell you I made codes and a few inventions that are used throughout parts of the city?”

You were helplessly bemused and overwrought by the newfound information that had been casually lobbed at you. Your fingers tensely gripped at your hair, mortified, both elbows now on the table, as your eyes nearly popped from their sockets.

“Mi Luna? You okay?” Miguel dwindled his head down to meet your flushed expression.

“Have you been telling me, all this time, that I've been dating a suave, millionaire CEO man? Oh my God, oh my God, if Ronnie ever finds out—if my family ever finds out! Oh my God, can I disappear? Maybe, just maybe, if I contract so hard, I can blip myself out of existence! Yeah! That can work!” 

“I'm not that rich.”

You immediately clenched up and began to strain your body.

“Mi Luna.” 

Miguel gave a remorseful look. His eyes glazed, wondering if any of that was appropriate to tell you. He wanted to answer your questions, but not if it'd upset you.

Abruptly stopping, you noticed his reaction. Getting up from your chair, you made your way over and plopped your forehead on his.

“I'm so sorry, mi Estrella. I didn't mean to make you feel so disheartened. It was unanticipated news I wasn't expecting; there is still no excuse for my behavior. Please forgive me for that heinous response.”

Miguel pulled you in for a deep kiss before moving away. “All is forgiven. I know there wasn't any ill-intent; you were surprised. It wasn't the reaction I wasn't expecting.”

Sharing a laugh, the two of you embraced closely, praying it would never end. Eventually you broke away when the meals arrived, as you both began to chow down.

Enjoying each other, you two chatted non-stop. Learning more and more about one another.

“So, as you are a handsome Renaissance marble sculpture on the runway, have you ever had fair gents or maidens run to you with open arms?”

Miguel suppressed a snort and took a swig of his beverage. “Is that what I am to you? A Renaissance marbled what now?”

“A handsome Renaissance marble sculpture on the runway.”

“I'll make sure to remember that. And yes, I had a few one-night stands with both. Nothing too crazy. What about you? I don't think I've ever asked about all that.”

“Nothing too crazy here as well. Had two partners before hand, sexual relations with the first, none with the second. He apparently was getting too cozy with others and ended up leaving with something. So, I dodged that bomb there.”

A contemptuous scowl appeared on Miguel. “¿Quién engañaría a alguien como tú? A veces, no entiendo a los idiotas tontos.” 

He angrily chewed a piece of his steak.

“Everything okay?”

“Si, mi Luna. I'm trying to wrap my brain around why anyone would treat you so lowly.”

You gave a simple shrug. “It happens. It did sting at the moment, but I moved on. Very indifferent a month after the breakup. So, it wasn't a complete loss.”

“Still. Ay, you are so gentle, I swear... hey, mi corazón?”

“Mhm?” You glance up from your food.

“What is your family like? I tried not to speculate on what they’re like, so I am curious about them.”

“Mom and dad are living in some other state, I think Washington? And I have an older brother. Barkley. Exactly six years apart. I’m close with my parents—not too close. And my brother. We were super attached growing up. He was my best friend. Then something happened when he went to college, cut us all off with no explanation, and then vanished.” You traced the rim of your wine glass.

“Last I heard, he left the states and is doing odd jobs now.” Your face fell, melancholy rupturing the more intimate jazzy sounds.

Guilt plastered over him. He pressed his lips together as anguish washed over him for bringing up a sensitive topic. He imagined that by bringing up Gabi in the past, you would be ecstatic to ramble on about your family too. Even at the end of the day, he still inferred something about your personal life.

“Mi corazón, I-I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

A lopsided grin upturned on your face. “Hey, you wouldn’t have known; it’s okay. It does hurt, still to this day, but I try to carry on. I do think about him a lot, and I have a bunch of repressed feelings that go deep within, so what I try to do is help the ones around me and myself from time to time. Show that generosity. It may be altruistic to some; who knows? You can’t always have that pep, but you can try and kindle kindness.”

“I don’t think that's altruistic.” Miguel said it sincerely.

“I would say you're being a bit biased, and I could agree with you, but let's take a look at your job. It's a much grander scale of helping people, so wouldn't that make me a hypocrite?”

“How so?”

Your smile never leaves. “We both use our energy to seemingly help others. So I can't say that me specifically going out of the way to aid someone doesn't have any altruistic undertones. Yours is just…bigger.”

He shook his head. “Maybe I am being biased. But from your view, it comes from the heart.”

“And yours does too.”

His heart thumped. You were perfect for him in all shapes and forms. He knew if he were to declare that, you would instantly deny it. Maybe there was a reason why you would, but even with your flaws, he will still be there. If times get hard, he will still be there. He would follow you for an infinite amount of time, and it still wouldn't be enough for him.

“Ay, eres perfecta, mi Luna.” 

And you shook your head.

“I'm not perfect; I still have things that may bother and upset you.” You teased him, eyeballing him as he got up and came to your side.

“That may be true, but I know I will still want you.” 

“And I will still want you, mi Estrella. I know if challenges were to hit us, we wouldn't back down.”

Three strings popped.

“Dance with me, mi Luna.”

Surprised by the suddenness of the request, you let him take the lead, swaying to the satisfying and powerful vocals that wreathed the tender love you two shared in the middle of it all.

The rest of the night went on without a hitch. Nearly finishing the wine bottle, you were slightly tipsy, and Miguel was still functioning as if he didn't have three glasses. After finishing the three-course meal, you both gave a standing ovation to the performers.

Tipping the service well, Miguel hailed another cab. Giving the driver your address, you both slid in one after the other.

You were both giggly, doing your best to hold it in and not be too loud. Miguel would sneakily glide his hands up your dress, as you would pretend nothing was going on.

Scooting alongside you, his unsheathed hands caressed your body. Biting your bottom lip to stifle any moans from escaping, you gazed at him from the corner of your eye.

“Ay, mi corazón, wait till we get back to your place. I'm not ready for this night to end.” He whispered low enough so only you could hear his husky, seductive voice.

His watchful eyes observed the driver, making sure he wasn't peeking as one of his talons scraped over the inner thigh and right in-between your legs. By subtly parting them, you allowed him to leave ghost-like circles over the dampening undergarment.

A sharp inhale nearly made its way out as you pretended to cough to mask it. A single sweatdrop rushed down your face as he continued his treatment on the spot. He then prodded the nub with a sharp nail.

“Not one sound. We don't want to get caught, do we, mi Luna?" He nipped at your ear before glossing his tongue down to the lobe.

Your heart was in your eardrums, teeth refusing to leave the bottom lip, to the point where you believed it was bleeding.

Eventually reaching the front of the building, you quickly paid for the fare as you both staggered out of the vehicle and hobbled straight towards the elevator doors.

The anticipation rose as you anxiously eyeballed the yellow light trickling down each number so agonizingly slow.

4… 3… 2…

The second it reached one, you clambered in as you impatiently pressed the close button, silently begging it to go faster.

When the lobby was out of sight, Miguel swept you off the ground, pinning you to the wall behind.

You immediately encased your legs around his waist, your tongues attacking as you bruised each other's lips. Your hands roamed all over his strong shoulders before Miguel seized them and slammed them over your head with one claw. His other hand delicately punctured some skin on the outer thigh, making you moan in sheer ecstasy.

The elevator dinged as Miguel swung you onto his shoulder, making you yelp at the action.

His calloused fingers gripped close on your behind as he dug for his key in his pocket. Eventually finding it, he fumbled with the lock. You offered to have him let you down so he could open it, until you heard the click.

He nearly broke the door from opening it, pulling you back down, retaking your earlier position, and ramming your lips back on his. Kicking the wooden door shut with his foot, he took off his shoes and made his way to the couch, flinging you on it, as he kneeled in front. 

His hands roamed over every bit of your draped body, tongues in a sloppily dance. You tugged at his hair, grinding your hips up to him. He pulled away as you both took in heavy breaths of air, as if you had gone without oxygen for days.

“Mi Luna, mi corazón, I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to take so much care of you. I want to make love to you. I will make love to you. Will you allow me to do that, Mi Luna?”

All you could do was nod.

“I will only do it if you say it, mi Luna.”

“Yes! Mi Estrella, yes, please make love to me! Por favor, si, anyth-”

Miguel cut you off, his tongue nearly sliding down your throat. Restlessness took over as he hauled your dress over your head and threw it over the sofa. 

You reached down and started to take off your wedges when Miguel shoved your arm over your hair.

“Leave your fishnets and shoes on.”

Miguel dipped down, a carnal growl making its way from his throat as his tongue teased and explored your neck and collarbone.

Whining out, your back arched into his warm, wet appendage, loving every nip and bite from him. You moaned as his teeth gently clamped down on the crook of your neck. You felt every suction, every stroke from the tongue, and the vibrations whenever he groaned.

Your panties dampened even more. He was voracious with his mouth, his hands moving to firmly grope your breasts, hips, and thighs.

“Oh, mi Luna, la única para mi. Eres tan bueno, tan bueno conmigo.”

He peered into your lustrous eyes, his blazing ones never fleeting as his thumbs parted your lips, talons brushing against your tongue. You wrap it around one of them, sucking on it, not wanting to break contact, until you get lost in it. Lapping the digit in circles, you bob your head back and forth, causing him to purr and tug your head back.

“Such a naughty girl, making papi hot and bothered like that.”

Heavy pants heave out of you before you take Miguel back into another amorous kiss. You latch your tongue around his, your squeaks filling the room, causing Miguel to groan, squeezing your chest.

Moving away, he peeled you off the couch and hoisted you in his arms, bridal style, carrying you to the bedroom and dropping you wearily on the bed.

“I'm going to devote every second to pleasuring this body.”

“I know you will, mi Estrella.” You contentedly sighed out.

Claiming those sweet lips one last time, he tears the bra off your body.

“Miggy! You have to stop ripping my clothes!” You squirm and pout.

“You know I'll buy you a new one. I'll buy you an entire new wardrobe if it means I get to see this body.” He kneads your breasts, pinching the nipples and receiving a gasp.

“So responsive. One thing I adore so much about you.”

Taking your left nipple in his clutch and chewing on it as his fangs threatened to draw out, he had to consciously keep them in check. His tongue lapped and sucked the bud as trails of spit leaked down your breast.

“Oh, Miggy. So good, that feels so good.” You shuddered at the feeling.

Pulling back with the areola still in-between his teeth, he released it, then delved into nibbling the valley of your bust, leaving faint traces up and down your stomach and thighs.

Your whimpers drove Miguel up into the stratosphere. His jeans were unbearably constructive, and his body was burning with full lust. He removed his blazer and tossed it, his mouth not once leaving, wanting to mark all over you. Your body relaxed, humming at the nips and laps from his tongue.

“You are so amazing, mi Estrella.” 

He smiled, popping your right nipple out of his mouth. “And you are even more so, mi Luna.”

Surveying the purplish-red bruises, he nearly patted himself on the back, prideful over what he did. He leaned up until your face was in view. You couldn't make much out, as the room was dark, with only a shimmer of lights protruding from your window. 

The one thing you could see was the fiery, vermillion irises feverishly longing for you.

Grazing your luscious figure, Miguel trailed his hands down to your panties, stroking and playing with the waistband. “Mi Luna. Don’t think I didn’t take notice of you shaking that perfectly cute ass for me at the lounge. You wanted to rile me up; I know you did.”

His heated breath on your chest and neck made goosebumps spring all down your body. 

“Mm, you were such a gentleman; it was only fair to reward you with a little something, papi.” 

“Now let me reward you.” Miguel pecked at your collarbone.

“For what?”

“For being you. For being so amazing to me and taking the time to... care for someone like me.”

Your hands brushed along his neck until each one was placed on either side of his cheeks. Raising him to you, you displayed your love.

“You deserve it all. You are worth it all.”

His stomach and chest fluttered as the kiss he gave held so much devotion, fondness, and ardor. He wanted to give you everything—to give all of him to you.

Bracing himself on his knees, he speedily unbuttoned his shirt and paused.

“Sit up, mi Luna.” He commanded as you followed the direct, confused.

He wrapped the fabric around your backside, took each of your arms, and slid them into the sleeves.

“Fóllame…” he croaked out.

It was loose on you, as one part drooped off your shoulder. Seeing you like this made something tick. A carnal desire. A primal rage.

The wedges, your wetness leaking down, messing up your thighs. The love-bites on your perfect breasts and neck. The fishnets have tiny, damp spots, and you're wearing his shirt. Your scent mixing with it.

The image alone nearly made him explode.

"Miggy, are you okay?” You tilted your head.

And that was it. That innocent call of his name. You checking in on him. That lovely voice. That voice he always wants to hear.

He slumped on the floor, grappling your legs and anchoring them over his shoulders.

“I want you to scream out. I want them to know who is making you feel so good, mi corazón.”

Arousal and fear settled in your eyes—that blazing desire you saw within. How you craved it so much.

“I want you, Miguel.” 

He dove in.

His tongue lapping up the streams that trickled from your inner thighs, making sure to leave love-bites in his tracks.

“Mines, you're mine. Eres mía. Eres mía.”

You wail out, grasping onto your bedsheets. The firm push of his tongue against your clothed opening had you spying stars. The cotton becoming slicker and stickier with each lick around the folds nearly had you releasing.

“I need these gone.” With a swift rip, your underwear was torn off, and you couldn't help but snarl at him.

“Miggy! No more ripping—oh fuck!” 

You cried out. Miguel plunged deep within your damp opening, jutting his tongue in and out as he felt every clench of your walls around the muscle.

A possessive, guttural growl reverberated from his chest, making your legs tremble from the resonance.

“Miggy! Take your time! Oh fuck! Please take your time!” Your hands gripped your face, raising your upper torso.

“I'm sorry, mi corazón; you're so good. So, so sweet.” His tongue swirled around your labia in rapid succession, provoking a screech.

“Ple-please, Miggy! Slo-slow down!” 

He had to force himself away from his delicious meal. His claws pierced into your thighs, and he fought to regain his breath.

“Te pido disculpas, mi Luna. You just taste so good; you are my addiction. But for you, I'll go take my time. I'll start when you're ready.”

An admiring smile embellished on your face. How it managed to elevate your beauty even more, he would never know.

“Gracias, mi Estrella. I'm always ready for you.” You stroked his soft curls before Miguel took his claws and interlocked them in your fingers.

Lining himself back up, the tip of his tongue carefully lapped around the edge of your folds, taking in every whimper and mewl leaving you, blessing his ears.

Relieving all stress, you relaxed your body, yearning to feel every part. The passion from every glide over your vulva to the flicks on your clit sent you to a blissful heaven. Your defenseless moans of intimacy ricocheted off the walls. Miguel battled the inner frenzied side wanting to unleash its assault on you as he steadily made eights around the clitoris and entrance.

“Mi-Miggy.” You slurred out, “Go faster. You can go faster.”

His eyes glinted at you, a fierce scarlet, as that beastly part didn’t take that request for granted. Miguel took a hold of your legs, pushing them up a bit more until your wedges dug a bit into the upper part of his back. A few sweat drops ran down the side of you, attempting to backtrack, but it was too late.

Miguel shook his head briskly, his tongue wiggling madly, making out with your pussy. His mouth engulfed you, and a raw scream of his name departed your lips, having your neighbor knocking on the barrier in-between.

“Mi-Miggy! I can’t be too-”

“What did I say? Let them hear you. Let them know who is doing this to you.” 

He slurped and sucked on your cunt, letting the murky fluids leak from the sides of his chin. He devoured every inch of you as you desperately bucked your hips up to his face, sobbing out.

Miguel came to a sudden halt, his tongue still buried deep in you. With a disoriented gasp, you jerk your head down, bewildered by the sudden stoppage.

“Keep going! Why did you stop?” You sobbed.

Yanking his tongue out, a wicked grin appeared along with his pearly, razor-sharp fangs. 

“I sensed your desperate rocks. So, mi Luna, you’re going to do some work as well, as much as I love to worship my prey.” 

Rising to his full height, he removed his jeans and the confining briefs, the glistening shaft springing out, throbbing madly. You immediately clenched around nothing, a longing gasp huffing out.

Crawling near you, he unceremoniously guided you towards the headboard as you nervously shuffled until your back hit the cool wood. You gulped loudly while one of his knuckles stroked the side of your cheek.

“I'm going to fuck your little pussy until you fall apart over and over.”

Clinging his claws to your waist, he flipped positions in such a way that he was on his back and you were straddling his waistline, feeling him poke against the cusp of your bottom.

“On my face.” He ordered with that husky grunt.

You hesitated when a firm hand smacked your left asscheek. A surprise cry left as Miguel spanked it again.

“No stopping, mi Luna. On my face, por favor. And remember, you're going to go at your pace.”

Squirming your way up to him, you hovered over when Miguel dropped you down. Kissing the crevice around your folds, he plugged his tongue in your hole, not moving a single inch. 

Luckily, you connected the dots, rocking your hips in a circular pattern. His muscular arms kept you sturdy as your velvet sex squeezed and squished around it. Miguel's nose swiping your stiffened nub whenever your hips propel forward.

Throwing your head back, you felt the release creeping up, and you pressed on more and more.

With him allowing you full control, Miguel lays there as your fluids cover the bottom half of his face. You whined out, tears pricking in your vision, your mind in a frenzy.

You didn't want this to end. He wasn't doing anything, and he was still making you feel like your head was in the clouds. 

You were on top of the universe.

His hand roams up your soft thigh. His thumb and pointer pinching, rolling your clit in between, creating a split low moan between you two.

“I'm going to—I'm going to cum, Miggy!”

Deciding to help you out, his tongue drove into you with immense momentum. You squished from every thrust, your juices splashing about, and your walls squeezing tight.

“Miggy, Miggy, Miggy, close, I'm close, I'm- I'm-”

Rasping out, you bucked alongside. When his tongue dipped in, you'd dip down. A shrill left you and your body maniacally spasmed.

“Miguel!”

Your orgasm was potent. Digits curled in his hair, your body slightly curved backwards before slumping over with hard, heavy breaths. He cleaned up a bit of the mess, wanting to still keep some as a remainder.

“Mi Estrella… fuck me. You are too good at that.”

Plucking you off and settling you on your back, he nuzzled his face into your chest, before enveloping his lips around yours. You waltzed your tongue around, tasting all of you.

“So sweet; how fitting for a woman like you.” He kissed your cheek multiple times.

“I think it's more tangy, so someone's taste buds are broken.” You both laugh, placing your foreheads together.

“¿Estás bien, mi Luna?” He trailed a line of affectionate pecks from your cheek to the crook of your shoulder.

You nodded your head, your upper limbs entwined over his thick neck. “I'm always okay whenever I'm with you.”

A coy smile spread on your inviting lips.

“Mi corazón, I'm going to worship every inch of you. It's just me and you.”

Miguel leaned downward, catching you in a fierce, sloppy open-mouth kiss. You gladly returned, your body the hottest it has ever been.

He cast you back up, hitching your legs around his waist. Rotating so your head would prop up against your pillows, he sank his body weight down, entrapping you.

“Las cosas que me haces, Luna mía. Las muchas cosas.” Miguel muttered in your ear. 

“Are you ready, mi Luna?”

“Always.”

Lowering himself, his erection rubbed against your folds, lubricating you both as much as possible. You croon, eyes half-lidded, leaning up to suck and lick the crook of his neck.

“I'm going to start pushing. Relax, mi Luna, relax.” 

The tip lined up to your entrance, gently nudging it in to stretch you. Groaning out together, Miguel's compulsion nearly took over from your tight heat clenching him for dear life.

“Ne-need to adjust. I'm sorry!”

“Shh, it's okay. Your pace, corazón, your pace.”

Miguel slid further in, your walls pulsating with any single shift. Half-way, you grinded up against him; loosening yourself. Miguel gritted his teeth, taking every inch of your reaction.

“Go–go ahead. All of it, please!” you cried out.

When he bottomed the rest in one go, you both froze. Every twitch against your fluttering, wet muscles causes cascades of heavy grunts from him and sultry moans from you.

“Apretado, apretado a mi alrededor. Muy bien, eres muy buena mi Luna hermosa.” 

He starts to pump. Withdrawing himself to the head before ramming it back to the hilt, contouring it until it was perfectly molded. Flinging your head back, a lusty moan leaves your mouth.

His hips smacking against your hip bones, your painted nails digging into Miguel's back, leaving more marks and scars that will bring loving memories instead of anguish. Your whines are bouncing over the bedroom walls, driving him wild.

Slightly angling your hips up some more, Miguel found that sweet spot as those more modest whimpers devolved into pure, lustful adulterous screams. Miguel took pride as you squelched with every thrust, your juices covering his entire length. 

“Music. Music–ah, fuck. Such a beautiful song leaving that alluring mouth.” 

“Mi-Miguel!” You wailed his name like a trance you couldn't escape. The only word you moaned as he relished it.

“Yes, my moon, speak only my name. How did I get you? How did I get so lucky to get you?”  

Bodies coated in sweat, some of Miguel's trickling on you as he pressed his forehead on yours, gazing longingly into those fervent eyes.

He never wanted this to stop. He never wanted it to end. He didn't want to lose you.

Because at this moment, nothing matters. At this time, he only focused on you and your shared admiration.

It was only you two.

“Only us, mi Luna. I need to... I need you.” 

Miguel crashed his lips into yours, muffling your cries, tongues whirling in a wild duel. The bedframe creaked aggressively, his sharp piston humping causing the headboard to ram against the wall, provoking a knock from the neighbors, but Miguel didn't care.

Your arms cloaked around his backside, dragging your nails all over. The wedges chafing against his lower back, as his tip brutally assaulted your cervix.

“Mi Estrella! I love you, mi Estrella! Oh fu-fuck!” Your head turned towards the side of the pillow, causing a growl to rumble out of Miguel's throat.

“No, look at me; let me see that gorgeous face.” He forced your head back.

Flushed and flustered, your mouth opened, your tongue flopped out, and saliva dribbled down the sides. Your pupils dilated, with more tears welling up in your lashes and staining your face.

His tanned cheeks were red as you locked on to his hungry, driven, and lustful stare, yet you could make out the authentic love. Your heart swelled, and your affection, passion, and love for him rang true wherever he was around.

You never wanted this to end.

“I'm close. I'm so close, mi Estrella!”

“Yes, mi Luna. Let me appreciate you. Cum for me, cum on this cock, corazón.”

The sweet musk and strawberry champagne perfume radiating off you attacked his nostrils, his brain swirling with lascivious urges. 

His penetrating eyes appeared redder than ever. His member was pulsating with every plunge. His balls snapping against your folds sent you in a spiral.

"S-so tight! Tight only for this cock destroying this—Ngh, this beautiful pussy?"

"Yes! Just for you! Only for you! Miguel!"

Your senses blurred, and the coil finally burst.

Your back arched off the bed, your chest squishing into his as your legs trembled wildly. Shrieking his name violently, there was another irked knock, although it went unnoticed.

Miguel grunted as his length was vehemently squeezed from the intense orgasm. His claws were harshly clutching the bedsheets, leaving tears.

Attempting to come off your high, you shivered, still sensing the palpitations from Miguel's shaft. Your emotions were going haywire. You moaned in his ear.

“Come for me, Miguel. Please, mi Estrella. I need you. I need you rooted deep in me!”

When those words flowed out, he grabbed your ass before yanking you up into his lap. You yelped, your hands clutching his broad shoulders.

“Be careful with what you ask for.” He licked your earlobe before kissing your sweaty forehead. “Te voy a dar exactamente lo que quieres. Tú. Son. Mía.” 

Checking to make sure your legs were locked and steady, taking your behind in his gigantic claws, he pulled out until it was just the tip before shoving it back in one go, vigorously impelling you down on him.

You screeched, your toes curling, still very sensitive from your previous climax. You kissed his bulky chest and shoulders in no particular order. Taking in his heavy musk, the cedarwood aroma from him. It was so intoxicating that you could be addicted to it.

The air filled with gushing, wet slaps as it harmonized with your and Miguel's moans.

“Mi corazón, my moon. You are the only one. Mines... nunca querrás perderte.”

“I'm only yours, my star! I will always be yours!”

Miguel released an animalistic growl as he nearly pounded into you with his inhuman speed. The wooden legs holding the bed up threaten to snap. The headboard surely left streaks of chipped paint after this.

Miguel would drag you down while simultaneously pushing his pelvis up to meet your behind, and as you shamelessly dripped onto the torn sheets below, you added more to the murky puddle underneath.

Your bodies collided in a rhythmless dance of lust.

“Mis ojos adornados por la Luna. Para bien de mí, no te merezco. ¡Joder, corazón!”

Miguel was reaching his limits.

He thought of you together, far away. Happy, full of felicity and hope. Trying for the first child, the first one who will have your smile, that will have his ruby-red eyes. The one with your caring personality. The one with his head-strong personality.

And as the snow turns into flowers and the green leaves transform into many shades of warm colors, there will be more. More with his glimmering, crimson-eyed and your smile running around full of that love and compassion. Maybe wrestling, or doing fun experiments, or in the mini-farm picking those fresh fruits and vegetables.

He will finally be happy with his family once more.

Three more strings snapped.

His movements grew sloppier. His mind is only on filling you up. He grasped the back of your head, carefully wrapping his long appendages in your hair, and tugged you close to his mouth.

“I want you stuffed. Seal you to the brink with my seed.”

“Yes! Yes, yes! I love you! I love you!”

His name was heard for all of Nueva York.

Miguel's fangs snuck deep into the side of your neck. Snarling, he coated your heated, moist cavern with thick, heavy spurts, threatening to leak out.

Talons pricking your bottom as a bit of blood colored the tips. Even your blood was sweet. Still very fitting.

You shivered at the pleasurable pain from your crashing finish and his bite. How easily it was inserted into your skin made you hum with delight. The venom coursed through your bloodstream as you began to lose mobility in your body.

Miguel idly opened his eyes before a short burst of panic forced them wider as he promptly retracted his fangs.

“Mierda. I'm sorry, mi Luna, I-I lost control and-”

With the last few bits of strength, you uncoordinatedly and gently whacked his shoulder before it flopped down.

“It's okay. All okay.” You slurred with a grin on your face.

Miguel searched for any discomfort before a smile was placed on his lips.

He licked the puncture wound clean; he gradually pulled himself out as a satisfying pop rang out, causing him to grunt and you to groan.

“You're going to be immobilized for a good minute. I injected a bit too much.”

He pulled your shoes and fishnets off, but decided to leave his shirt on you. You couldn't move a thing, but you did not mind. In fact, you accepted that this may have been a new experience you will thoroughly enjoy in the future.

Your eyes glazed over, observing Miguel assiduously clean you before your eyelids grew heavier before shutting them all the way.

 

A piano and saxophone blended within the stars. You pivot back and forth, only to see him there. He shimmered more than the ones penning against him.

You floated over, taking his harsh claw into your hand. But yet, it was pleasant and gentle. 

His arm around your waist, he gazes at you as you spin around the skies, the stars, comets, and planets.

The illuminated dance and song of naturalism and intimacy swirled alongside you both. 

You are the moon and he, the shining star.

• • •

“Pete- E-616 Peter!”

Jess waved her wrist, refusing to go through the ordeal of having a bunch of Peters point at themselves, deducing who she wanted.

“Hey, Jess! What's going on?” His short, shaggy hair, five-o’clock shadow, and huge, but tired, brown eyes popped into frame.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Her head whirled back and forth. “Privately.”

Peter scratched the back of his perplexed. “Uh, okay.” 

He lagged behind her, seeking out any answers to the questions he imposed, but she stayed hushed until they reached a hallway that he was highly unfamiliar with.

“Is this part of the medical bay?”

His head rolled back and forth between the white panels and blue tiles.

“No. This is a restricted area that not many know about. There were only supposed to be two people made aware of this location.”

“But with me here, I'm the third person who knows of it.” He leaned against one of the walls, still lost on where exactly he was and what Jess exactly wanted.

She shook her head. “You're the fourth person who knows of it. Can you guess who the others are?”

Squinting his eyes, he began to conjure up suspects. “Well, obviously you, so that's one. Me being two. Miguel! He created this, so it makes sense. And the fourth?”

Creasing his brows, he went through the list of potential candidates before swaying his head after a minute passed.

“I got nothing for the last one.”

Jess tapped her foot and nodded her head. “Okay, let me get this out of the way. I know you have a soft spot for Miguel, and like myself and others, you want the best for him.”

“Yeeess?” Peter crossed his arms, wondering where she was headed with this. 

“And we want him to be happy. Well, as happy as this man can possibly reach, which isn't high.”

“Jess, I'm confused.” 

“Over the past week or so, I've been gathering records and information on where Miguel goes and the people he's been bringing here.”

She taps away on her watch, pulling up an undisclosed document. “You have your officials, building regulators, the usual. But there's one person, specifically a woman, he's been ‘slyly’ bringing into this establishment.”

Jess closes out the file, then plants her hands on her hips. “With that newly added info, care to take a gander at who the fourth person is?”

Peter bit his lip and stumbled on his brain to object to any of that.

“Still no clue. And come on, Jess, keeping track of where he goes and who he invites is a bit… of a helicopter parent move. He isn't a teenager; he's a full adult with a life to live. So surely it shouldn't be anything bad.”

“Peter, I'm not trying to helicopter him, but when he's being more sneaky about what he's doing more than usual, that's where we have to draw the line.”

“Is it still about the paperwork? I thought you all caught up with that?”

“It's not about the paperwork, Peter! It started with that, but it descended into more when he would randomly leave his post for hours on end, lying about making codes and inventions, or bringing in some random woman who isn't a spider!” 

She threw her hands up, slapping them back down to her sides.

“Well, he might have reasons for them. He can do what he likes, you know? Sure, he's been slacking a bit, but we all have our slump moments.”

He pushed his shoulders up before bringing them back down.

“Peter–”

“I have moments where I disappear. I do it all the time, and I still get my work done. Maybe that's where Mayday gets it from; it might be a Parker thing, but still, all goes well! And besides, I think she's good for him. But what do I know? I mean, I remember when Miguel blew a gasket over some harmless prank E-573 and E-25667 did. My God, that man needs some type of break, like all the breaks–”

“Wait, wait, backtrack. Did you just say she's good for him?”

Peter's eyes squeezed tightly, ‘ah, fuck me,’ on loop in his brain the second he slipped up.

Jess sucked in her teeth and bowed her head. “You only get one. One. One chance to tell me where he is right at this moment.”

Her arms connected over her jutting stomach.

“Forgive me… He's on a date with her. That's all I know. But, I don't know where they could be at this very hour.” Peter scrunched up, discomfited.

A critical laugh escaped from Jess. “Wow, okay. You knew exactly where he was and who he's with, and still tried to play dumb with me?”

“And that was wrong of me, and I'm sorry, Jess, but he's a grown man. He's allowed to also go out and enjoy himself as well.”

“I'm not saying he's not allowed to do any of that. If he wanted to go to a damn nightclub five times a week, then whatever, it would be his life!”

“I feel like a lounge would suit him more…” he sardonically mumbled.

“PETER, I-”

Jess brings her hands up to her lips in a prayer position to calm her nerves.

“I'm trying not to be the bad guy here. We all have needs and things we want to do, but skimping out on tasks he highly enforces and expects us to do? Sneaking an outsider into the HQ like he is some goddamn teenager, Peter?”

Peter lowered his head, pretending that Mayday, his source of comfort in these distressing times, was right there.

“Who's to say what trouble that would be put on us if it was someone else attempting that? He needs to be able to also balance this out, but that's the problem!”

He pressed his lips in a thin line as he allowed her to continue.

“This man is so unstable that he doesn't know how to exactly balance these things! We all went through the training and council meetings for these reasons. To understand the situation we are in. We did, Peter.”

She firmly pointed at herself, then at him.

“Yet him?” She's turned toward Miguel's office. “Not even once, yet still expected and expects every one of us to do it.” She spun her pointer finger.

“Well, Jess, how would you exactly know that?”

“Lyla.” Her voice was assertive and full of control.

“Yo, yo.” She pixelated between the two.

“Give me the file for Miguel's family training, counseling sessions, or anything in that department.”

Lyla opened up a screen in front of her. A minute passed as Jess patiently waited, and Peter stood awkwardly until the monitor disappeared.

“Uhh, yeah, so about that. They don't-”

“They don't exist. Thank you, Lyla; you can go.”

The A.I. left as quickly as she arrived.

Peter glossed over, having no more rebuttals. "So, what's going to happen?”

Jess’s shoulders slumped. “I'm going to talk to him,” she held up her hand when Peter tried to interject, “And find a smart resolution on how he can still do his job and still see this girl. I won't go hard. He will have to face repercussions, but it'll only be temporary.”

His eyes lowered to his fuzzy, pink slippers, eliciting an exhausted sigh from her. “And if I need help, I'll call for you.”

“You think he will take it well?”

“Depends. How much does he like this girl?”

“Enough to get you on his tail more so than you regularly are.” He joked, gaining a smirk from her.

“That's a lot. But I won't do it immediately. I still need to know what I want to say and make sure all things are in order.”

Jess clicked at her device, dragging items into folders.

“Promise you won't go too hard on him. It's nice seeing him happy.”

“I'll try not to, Peter. I'll try.”

• • •

“Hey.”

“Hm?” Miguel stroked your back, his eyes fluttering open.

“The solace reached a hundred percent.”

“It was already there, but what makes you raise it all the way?”

“We're the neighbors who found it within each other.”

You felt the vibrations in Miguel's chest as you both huffed out a chuckle.

The light continues to glow; it continues to shine on the object that wants to be seen. He's able to sit up. 

But the strings can reconnect.

And the darkness can still swallow that light whole whenever it wants.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ella-janehaven @prozacgooble @sanguwuxyoonbummy

[honourablejester]

Starfinder Character Concept: A Luminous Skeletal Priest

Okay. So. Reading the Ports of Call setting book presented me with the fabulous concept of the Last Call, a colony ship turned mobile funerary barge:

“Space is a minefield of fatal disasters, and the undead can arise from those who die gruesomely or without last rites. Knowing this, a Pharasmin sect called the Cemeterians repurposed a colony ship as their flying temple and set out to provide funerary services across the galaxy. Having now operated for over 50 years, the starship is known as Last Call is easily recognized by its sign reading “Let the End be an Ending” painted above its docking bay. The ship periodically jumps across the galaxy, serving as a trading post, morgue, and neutral ground for all but the unrepentant undead.”

This is enchanting to me. Combined with all the space undead you get in Starfinder, like my beloved Marooned Ones. Just the idea of a ship that is going out to find the wrecks, the dead stations, the lost colonies, in order to grant the dead their last rites and to lay the unquiet dead to rest. Or to just provide services for ships or stations that don’t have their own priests. I so want a character who at least spent time on her as part of their background.

And then, while I was thinking about deathly space priests and their funeral ship, I remembered a Starfinder race that I have loved since I first read about them: the Shatori. I noticed them because of the image firstly, Shatori are 7ft tall translucent immortals with glowing bones. They have a glowing skeleton that shines through their semi-transparent flesh. It’s amazing.

They accidentally set off an invasion of their world by daemons of Abaddon while looking for alternate power sources way back when, and created a spell to keep some of them alive in stasis until the invasion was over, but messed it up and wound up hibernating for centuries in a pocket dimension next to the Boneyard, the deathly energies of which gradually converted the sleeping Shatori into living but sterile immortals. They can’t give birth, can’t create more Shatori, so the survivors in that stasis dimension are the only Shatori’s that are ever going to exist anymore, and each death among them is an irrevocable loss. So they are, as a people, incredibly conscious of death, and seek to preserve their knowledge against their loss. As well as live full lives, in honour of all the Shatori that will never get to live.

Which. Combined with the Last Call.

Now. Shatori do not generally have truck with religion. They’re essentially immortal space Vulcans, they believe in impartiality and rational self-interest. And Pharasma, in particular, is complicated for them, on account of her Boneyard being the thing that … well, did the thing.

But they believe that each death is an irrevocable loss. They believe in preserving the knowledge and actions of those who have died. They believe in ensuring that those who are lost are not forgotten. So maybe one of them might be willing to crew a ship and find the lost dead and ensure that their names, their deeds, their knowledge, and the nature of their deaths, is recorded and not lost to time and the vast emptiness of space.

Also. Imagery-wise. A 7ft tall luminescent death priest, aboard a flying funeral ship. I’m just saying.

I do think I want an investigative sort of Cemetarian here. Not just last rites. They’re Shatori, they want to know the hows and whys and what-is-lefts. Recovery and preservation of knowledge, so that those who have died did not die wholly in vain. In which case, they might actually be in favour of the survival of intelligent undead, as it preserves the person and the knowledge, which might have maybe driven a little bit of a wedge between them and more zealous Cemetarians (and Pharasmins in general). So they might have been politely asked to leave the Last Call at some point. But they’re interested in continuing the calling regardless. In finding the dead of space, and laying them properly to rest, and recording the nature and circumstances of their deaths, and retrieving as much of who they were and what they knew as possible.

A mystic, almost certainly. Not a direct devotee of Pharasma, though they masked that well for a long time, more a simple chronicler of the dead. I think the Akashic connection? Knowledge, the preservation of knowledge. I like that Shatori already get detect magic, grave words, and stabilise as spell-like abilities. They lean towards deathly investigation from a standing start. We’ll likely build their spell repertoire to match that.

For background … I don’t think I’d go priest. I suspect they may not still be a member of Pharasma’s flock, on account of not actually being that religious or opposed to undeath on a philosophical level. I think I’m going to go with Void Nomad instead. Touched by the isolation and death of the vast cold reaches of space. We’re going to be a philosophical sort of Shatori on an evolving journey of discovery regarding death, that thing which is the horror and inevitable end of our entire species. By studying and honouring and embracing those who have perished to the void, we are slowly learning to accept our own inevitable end.

So. A quiet, contemplative lady, a shining skeletal Shatori on a journey of discovery, death and acceptance.

For a name … I deeply love the names of the planets in the Shatori’s home system of Disaj: Perdane, the world they lost to Abaddon, Perdure, the world on which they enacted their desperate and doomed attempt to escape death, and Prevail, a world relatively unscathed by past mistakes. There’s a theme there that I like. So. She’s going to have renamed herself out in the void, to remind herself of home and to keep the knowledge alive.

Durance Vail. An ex-Cemetarian of the Last Call. A Shatori void nomad akashic mystic. Heh.

(Or, put another way, and still to my giddy delight, a 7ft glowing skeleton lady who would like to go exploring spooky shipwrecks and speak with dead people for broadly altruistic purposes).

(Also, yes, space undead and nautical horror will never not be themes for me. I like spooky ships).

[258punkweight]

maroon 5 should make a song abt rubbing lemon wedges on ur mosquito bites

[cherievol6]

California Dreamin'

summer nights as an up and coming seventies rock band

word count: <1000

warnings: swearing, moustaches

.

"Marco, if you don't stop messing with that needle-"

"I'm not!" Marco screeches in defence from behind his new porn stache, lifting his hands up in a surrendered position when Harry saunters over to his new record player and stands in front of it protectively. You giggle quietly at their behaviour, squinting as you watch the boys squabble from the patio doors. Harry had saved money from his first released record to buy this Technics player, so he was feeling precious about it. He'd only really let you fiddle with it, but you always saw him monitoring you over your shoulder.

Melanie stalks down the rich oak stairs in her new bootleg jeans she found in a small charity shop back home, her worn down guitar in hand and a notebook. She wrote the best songs on her oldest guitar. You'd said to Harry a few years ago that you believed everyone's instrument is supernaturally bound to them in some way. You were both pretty high at time.

"God, Melanie. I miss my jeans so much." You whine.

"As if you're not looking unbelievably sexy on that garden chair over there. Marco, here, come and get the gorgeous pregnant woman a drink, would you?" Melanie replies, leaning to kiss you on the cheek and propping her things on the cream sofas. She snatches her scarf from over the lamp in the living room and ties it around her neck.

"Is this gorgeous pregnant woman in the room with us?- Ow! I'm messing, you miserable old sod." Marco sends you a wink but is quickly reprimanded by a swat to the head by your man, who was intensely inspecting his Bowie vinyl for scratches. You quietly giggle, knowing yours and Marco's relationship was playful and unserious, though you really liked Harry's protectiveness.

"Talk bad about my missus again and I'll rip that monstrosity clean off." Harry points to Marco's moustache before patting his cheek heavily, looking over at you with a glint in his eye. You grin, pretending that didn't make you slightly turned on. You were pregnant, it was hard not to be turned on by anything Harry did. Especially when he was wearing his maroon corduroy trousers and just a tank top, cigarette hanging from his lips and a glass of whiskey in the other. Your hand rests over your bump covered by an airy white summer dress, and Harry looks at you from across the room like you hung every star in the sky.

Marco appears by your side with a cloudy lemonade and you smile, grabbing his hand in a thank you and shifting on your garden chair to feel more comfortable. Harry had rented this place for your stay in Malibu whilst you, him and the rest of the band wrote their new album, but sometimes you secretly wished you could live here forever. Large veranda doors that open wide to let the setting sun in, beautiful oak walls and avocado coloured marble on the kitchen floor. You could sit and write every day here.

"What's on your mind, my pretty lady?" Harry's deep voice is smooth like treacle in your ears. You glance over to where he's situating himself on the other outdoor chair, stubbing out his cigarette now that he's next to you. Opal coloured sunglasses cover his eyes, and his hair remains slightly more grown out than usual. He always looked like this when he wasn't doing shows, kind of rugged, rockstar-ish. You loved it.

"I love this house, so much." You breathe. He grasps your hand and kisses it softly, holding it there as he sighs contentedly, glancing over at the skyline and the sun creeping behind. An orange glow sets over the small house and you smile, observing Marco and Melanie trying to light the old barbecue that must have been at least ten years old. Harry's hand creeps up your leg under your white summer dress, slipping it over his knee so he can run his hand up and down - brushing over your ankles every so often.

"How the fuck do you where these when you're pregnant?" He fiddles with the strap of your brown wedged heels.

"Just 'cause I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't still dress nicely. You know, I found a column in the paper back home by this young'un called Sophie Clark. She writes little fashion pieces at college. She's dedicated a section to me every week. 'The stylish lead starlet of The Saffron'. I need to keep up appearances." You muse, fiddling with the large thin hoop earrings that Harry had gifted you just the day before.

He leans down and kisses your shin, before travelling his hand to your bump unconsciously. "I know. I read it sometimes when you're away at your writing sessions back home and I can't see you. Need to know what you're wearing so I can picture taking it off you--"

You give him a knowing look, and he closes his mouth immediately with a mischievous look. His hand moves in gentle circles over your stomach and you revel in the feeling. It quite literally could not get any better than this. A warm, summer evening in California, the smell of incense coming from inside the house. The hum of The Mamas and Papas travelling from the turntable speakers.

"We're gonna write some good shit here, guys." You inhale. Harry hums and reaches for his notepad on the ground next to the chair, flipping it open and writing something down pensively.

"You found a muse already?" You try and peek and he laughs, slamming the leather bound book shut and grabbing your hand to plant a kiss.

"Just feeling inspired. Entranced. In love." He murmurs and closes his eyes, "I've got all of my muse right here in my hand."

.

heyyyyy!!! so i've kind of created a new lil universe after watching daisy jones and falling into a hole of 70s obsessions again. lmk if you'd like more little blurbs from these characters. I introduce you to The Saffron. my own little seventies rock band.

[sagethegaywitch]

Original Dorm: Jollirogger

Since Captain Hook won the poll, I present to you all my original dorm named Jollirogger (jolly-raw-grr).

History:

The dorm Jollirogger (loosely based on the Jolly Roger ship) is based on the Captain’s spirit of fearlessness.  The dorm involves a water moat around an island that houses the actual building.  The building is a black concentric castle that is loosely based on a shipwreck with white sails standing at the corners of the castle ground.  The rooms are mostly wooden-looking, the decor is a gold color, and most of the other items (bed covers, carpets, pillow cases, etc.) are maroon, white, and/or black.  Customarily, all students receive a treasure chest locker for their personal belongings and 3rd years will receive a hammock that they can string up in their rooms for relaxation.  On the beach of the island is a sizable rock cave named Skull Rock where the dorm’s ships are docked.  Dorm members, with the supervision of a 3rd year can take the boats out to sea to enjoy swimming, fishing, sailing, and/or sightseeing.  There are five boats, two small ones reserved for first years, two medium ones reserved for second years, and one large one reserved for third years.  It is a tradition at the beginning of the year to vote for the names of the boats, and they will be carved into the plaques on the ship along with the names from past years.  Housewardens are appointed if they can defeat the previous/current Housewarden in a sword duel and a boat racing contest.  The competitors can choose the boat and their crewmates for the race, but when sword dueling, the swords are the same kind.  Once made Housewarden, they get to choose their own Vice-Housewarden and the losers will have to clean the boats for the rest of the year.

Uniforms:

School Uniform: The uniform is the same as all the other dorms, but they wear a dark maroon vest and their arm ribbons are maroon and white striped.

P.E. Uniform: The uniform is the same as all the other dorms, but they wear a maroon shirt under the jumpsuit.

Labwear: The same as the other dorms, just with the Jollirogger dorm colors and emblem.

Ceremonial Robes: The same as the other dorms.

Dorm Uniform: The Jollirogger students enjoy creative liberty in what they wear, but what is required is a maroon vest and a white undershirt.  Pants are usually a darker color, but all students must wear a scarf around their waist to represent their school year (1st years wear white, 2nd years wear blue, 3rd years wear red, and Headwardens/Vice-Headwardens wear black).  Most students wear sturdy water boots and a variety of gloves for the labor they often have to do while sailing.  The Headwardens traditionally wear a maroon coat paired with a tricorne hat of the same color and a white feather.  On the other hand, Vice-Headwardens usually wear a blue and white striped shirt under their vest.

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

Jasper Hooke:

Based On: Captain Hook

Backstory: Jasper is a natural leader with a deadly sense of fearlessness, which inevitably led to him losing his left hand.  When he was a younger lad, he owned a golden pocket watch that his mother gifted him before sailing out to sea for a voyage.  When she never returned, Jasper vowed to treasure and take care of the watch until she came back.  One day, when he was playing on the beach with his friend, Perry Pax, Perry took an interest in the pocket watch and demanded to see it.  As Perry held it in his hands, much to Jasper’s dismay, he accidentally dropped it in between the rock formations they were climbing on at the beach.  Instantly, Jasper tried to retrieve it, but it was wedged so deep between the rocks that he ended up breaking his hand squeezing it through the crevice.  In the end, he was unable to retrieve the watch and his hand was so stuck that it had to be amputated.  Now, Jasper has a metal left hand, and at first he struggled to do things because he is left-hand dominant, but he learned through years of practice and returned to a normal life.  He often wears gloves because he’s insecure about the metal limb, and it has been his lifelong journey to find a way to get back his mom’s watch.

Personality: Reserved and snarky, as the Housewarden, Jasper is a guy who hates the younger generation.  Even if you’re just a year younger than him, he deems you a child and will act all annoyed when dealing with the 2nd and 1st years of his dorm.  He only tolerates a select few who demonstrate maturity and will favor them over his other 2nd and 1st year classmates.  He’s only really close friends with Silas, who he grew up with, and Azul, who he appreciates the businessman in him.  He’s very laid back with much patience, but repeated offenses are often punishable with harsh tones and sarcastic comments.

Silas Smeeth:

Based On: Smee

Backstory: Silas knew of Jasper’s incident at the beach, and what was first an action of pity became the start of a brotherhood.  After Jasper’s injury, many of the townspeople gave gifts to the boy while he was recovering.  Silas’ parents were sailing buddies with Jasper’s mom so he was forced to bring a gift.  He didn’t quite understand the importance of giving the older kid a sword, but he dutifully delivered the long box to Jasper.  He noticed that the older boy kept his left hand under the blankets the whole time he was there, but he was really polite when accepting the gift and seemed very distant, just staring out the window of his room at the nearby ocean.  After Jasper realized he had been given a sword, he instantly lit up and began asking if Silas enjoyed sword fighting too.  Silas didn’t know anything about swords, but he said yes just to make the other happy.  After his arm healed and his metal hand was installed, Jasper invited Silas over almost daily to sword fight with.  Jasper quickly realized that Silas had no experience, so he spent most of the time teaching him the basics.  Eventually, as the two grew older, they took over their family businesses and spent most of their time on the sea together, looking for lost treasure.  Silas is usually the ship’s accountant/record keeper, but he has developed a knack for acting and enjoys tricking people.

Personality: A cheerful and happy-go-lucky fellow who may act really sweet towards you, but he’s really just trying to pocket any valuables you may have on you.  He grew up around many treasure hunters and he’s been taught a few tricks over the years, but he’ll often just steal stuff as a joke and see how long he can do it before he gets caught.  He will always return your items and thank you for letting him practice on you.  He contrasts Jasper’s bad cop attitude toward the younger dorm members by being the good cop Vice-Housewarden and lets them come to him with their complaints.  He doesn’t always agree with Jasper’s ideals, but he’s willing to stick by his friend’s side after all they went through.

Taka Toc:

Based On: the crocodile that attacks Captain Hook

Backstory: He spent most of his life watching his parents get shunned in Never Land because of their half-reptile appearance.  They had a humble abode near the beachside, away from the center of town, and he learned to hate his crocodile side.  After he got his ability to transform into a crocodile centaur thingy, he learned that it was deemed a curse by his peers so he avoided it at all costs.  When he arrived at Night Raven College, he was amazed by all the half-animal students and felt more comfortable sharing his animal side.  At school, he's on a mission to return this golden pocket watch he found when wandering the beach when he was younger to its owner, and he hopes to find them at NRC. After he found it, he attempted to place a spell on it to return it to its owner, but it kind of backfired.  Instead, because of his magical mistake, Taka discovered his unique magic.  His unique magic will only not work on the original owner of the watch, which kind of works out in his favor.  He doesn’t like to use his unique magic much, preferring to use words or his fists in arguments.

Personality:  He’s secretly insecure, but he puts on a brave and strong front.  He’s very charismatic, but has the characteristics of a hopeful puppy.  He isn’t really used to praise, so when his classmates compliment him, he collapses into a stuttering and blushing mess.  While he’s self-conscious of his reptilian features like his eyes, teeth, and tail, he’s very proud of his muscles.  He enjoys working out because it helps him relax and release all of his frustrations in a positive way.  While he looks like he can beat you up in a fight, he always uses gentle words first, but if his friends get insulted or hurt, he’s not afraid to throw a punch.  He has a persistent attitude and is really desperate to find a way to return the pocket watch to its owner because he knows there is someone missing the golden valuable.

All images of my characters are from Picrew (https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1564386)

[valsnonsense]

Prince Thorn

"Sup man! Come round here often?"

Parents: Delta Dawn and Queen Barb

Siblings: Thrash Jr. (Elder Brother), Honeysuckle (Elder Half-Sister)

Age: 20

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Genre: Rock/Pop

Voice Claim: Adam Levine (Maroon 5)

The youngest of Delta Dawn and Barb. Loud, wild, with a drive for adrenaline, Thorn is like you took Barb's wild nature and dialed it up by a thousand.

Thorn works a professional skater/model. He's always loved performing crazy stunts for large crowds, pushing the limits of what he can do. On the side, he models for designer fashion brands, for that street cred ya know?

Despite his wild and general cocky attitude, Thorn does care greatly for his friends and family. He's always inviting them to his shows, wanting to show them his new tricks and stunts. And since he makes so much money through it, he tends to shower his friends with gifts (excessively).

In his spare time, he can be found woodworking. He loves making his own boards and making them for others. As a result, he's taken up carpentry as a hobby. He hosts workshops on occasion to teach others.

Thorn is primarily a rock troll, but does enjoy pop a good bit as well. Whenever he's at his workshop or practicing, music is blasting full volume nearby.

Thorn currently resides in Tumbleshred with his parents.

Fun Facts!

- Thorn has a loud rock scream. Like, ABSURDLY loud. As a baby, he could be heard clear across town whenever he cried. Safe to say his moms didn't sleep properly for years

- Does a lot of parkour. As a kid, he'd be found scaling the sides of buildings, wedged between windows. Trolls often dare him to climb random objects to see if he can.

- Missies his siblings a lot since they moved out. He'll deny it, saying that missing his big brother and sister would "ruin his image", but whenever they come to visit hes the first to hug them

And that's Thorn! Now you're probably wondering what Tumbleshred is, don't worry I made it up ndbdjdd. I'll go into more detail in the family portrait, but it's basically a Country/Rock City founded by Barb and Delta when they married.

I love this little shit. Why is he a skater? Cuz I was listening to "Skater Boy" when I was designing him xD

Family portrait tomorrow!!

Voice Example: She Will Be Loved (Maroon 5)