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echo-rambles · 2 months

Text

use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself.

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone.

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy.

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months.

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse.

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse.

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste.

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do.

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning.

-lol hey good afternoon

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication?

Yeah, definitely none of that.

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter.

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses.

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text.

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood.

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer.

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself.

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table.

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-”

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.”

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face.

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately.

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?”

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling.

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting.

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away.

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend.

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages.

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly.

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful.

“Seriously, shut up.”

“You came here asking for my opinion!”

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt.

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak.

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz.

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady.

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it.

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn.

You should say something though, right? Right?

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine.

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much.

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated.

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.”

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you.

You definitely need to talk about this.

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this.

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks.

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #if I missed any warnings/tags just let me know!#anyway uhh please enjoy.#I do have plans for a part 2 but nothing concrete #we'll see if I want to continue this lol

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loveydovey-leviathan · 20 hours

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can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️

mc gets jealous

obey me x gn!reader

🍉 from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉

a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao

cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]

The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.

Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.

Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.

With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”

lucifer

A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.

And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.

If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.

When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.

“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”

mammon

He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”

Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).

“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”

He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.

He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.

He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.

leviathan

He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.

It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.

He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.

It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.

“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.

When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).

His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.

“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.

satan

He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.

Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.

“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.

He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.

“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.

While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.

“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”

He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.

asmodeus

Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.

As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.

“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”

He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.

It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.

“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.

“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?”

He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.

Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.

beelzebub

He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.

He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.

The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.

He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.

“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”

He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.

He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.

“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”

belphegor

Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.

When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.

He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.

“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”

When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.

But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.

Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.

“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)

If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.

“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”

The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.

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anzulvr · 9 months

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Imagine Karma having a bad day and a smart af reader who can see through him instantly catches on and tries to do little things to make him feel better but doesn't do anything direct bc they know that Karma isn't so great with admitting he's upset and he eventually opens up and cuddles up to them and omGHW RKSIAJWWNAOQ

KARMA X READER WHO READS HIM LIKE AN OPEN BOOK

This took like 2 weeks I’m sorry there’s so many requests 😭

Karma has never been the best at hiding how he feels, it never even seems like he tries to as he’s very open and honest about what he thinks.

No one can really read him except for you.

He doesn’t know wether to think of that as a good thing or not. You understand him but is having someone like that something he wants?

He sits down next to you in the morning for first period. He came late and he has this grouchy look on his face, you ask him what’s wrong.

he brushes you off “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

It was obviously something still you didn’t want to be pushy.

The rest of the day you could tell something was weighing on his mind so you made it your life’s (or days) mission to make him feel better.

You spent the rest of the day trying to cheer him up

passing him notes during class, (Korosensei sees you but doesn’t stop you from doing it when he sees Karma smiling while reading them)

Messing with him during your sparring session

“[Name] you sure you want to fight me? I’m not going easy on you.” (He totally will)

“You don’t have too! I’ve been practicing too.”

mid way the fight you realize you overestimated yourself, even with him letting you hit him it was somehow hurting you more.

“[Name] I’ve seen cats that hit harder than yo— PffttHAHAHA WHY DOES YOU TICKLING ME HURT MORE??”

you realize there was no beating him through sheer will but you did know he was ticklish and that’s a big enough weakness to exploit.

You were also just being extra corny all day just for the sake of it

“This (love) song reminds me of you.”

“[name] that’s so chessy it’s gross.” he says trying to hide the smile creeping up his face

You went to his house to hang out for a while

“Karma, let’s watch [insert really overrated action move]!”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to last time.”

“You like it right? I want to watch something you like.”

His heart exploded right then and there. How could someone be so sweet without realizing it

mid way through the movie his spirits seemed raised so you ask.

“Karma do you mind me asking why you were upset today?”

“t’s really nothing I’m surprised you could even tell. No one else said anything.”

“I just pay extra attention to you, they didn’t say anything cause you have resting bitch face”

“Obsessed much?”

“As if! seriously though, what happened?” You had to push further for him to admit anything actually happened

“I just got into a fight with some stupid guy”

“Really? That’s it? You get into fights like everyday.”

“It’s a long story. Him and his friends were talking about you and it really set me off because I’d already had a shitty morning— my parents called to tell me they already made plans to travel to New York after they told me they’d stay here for atleast a month?”

“Oh wow- I’m sorry Karma, I know they promised and everything.”

“Yeah. Uhm sorry— I didn’t mean to unload that much.”

(Sorry??? He says sorry??)

“Huh? You don’t have to apologize, I want to know these things cause I care.”

“Oh. Thanks [name], you’re the only person I’d ever tell these things too.”

“Whys that?”

“I trust you too much, who knows when you’ll blackmail me with this.”

“Blackmail is your thing not mine!”

“Mhm, that’s what a blackmailer would say. Anyways let’s finish the movie the best part is coming up!”

“I was hoping you forgot we were watching that snooze fest.”

“In what world is [super mega overrated action movie] a snooze fest??“

“Do you hear yourself right now..?”

“You don’t see me complaining when you make me watch those romance dramas you like.”

“What are you saying, you never shut up about how unrealistic the scenes are.”

“Cause they ARE— in what world do guys get in car crashes, stay in mid air for 5 minutes and look good while doing it??”

“…in what world does an antihero ninja go around fighting people to save humanity.”

“To be fair we’re trying to kill an alien octopus to save the world from exploding these days.”

“Yeah.. if you asked me a year ago which of these events were most likely to happen I wouldn’t have guessed alien octopus world explosion.”

“Right, to be honest the car accident in true beauty seems fairly realistic in comparis- [Name] LOOK THATS THE SCENE!”

in the end you fell asleep on the floor together when you woke up he complained about how you slept though it. (He fell asleep 5 minutes after you.)

#ansatsu kyoushitsu #karma akabane #akabane karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane headcannons #karma akabane x reader #karma x reader #assasination classroom #assassination classroom #assclass

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the-kipsabian · 3 months

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wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

#wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #i hope this make some sort of coherent sense #despite being a writer im really bad at words lmao #i also dont know what to tag this with without clogging main tags so im going to trust moots to get this going first #just. this is a topic im passionate about. i love writing i love writers and having seen the wrestling fandom as of late really struggling #with this. we need to do something. even a little bit helps. actually get people leaving feedback and commenting again #supporting each other. we can do this together #dont let dreams be dreams lets fucking do this #just be nice and help each other out #im gonna stop now before i get overly emotional. if theres any questions let me know tho i think i got the main parts pretty clear here #again moots. im trusting you to get this started. im not gonna add my own shit here immediately this isnt about me #this is about the community as a whole #i also hope nobody is afraid of adding themselves here. you are all valid and worth the attention no matter what #just remember to also give if you leave something here. look at the previous links. look in the notes to find more people #okay thats it i need to make dinner now #lets just be kind and support one another. promise me that 💜#night is an absolute mess on main

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

Text

Baby Outlaw

Summary: Natasha has found out about another little girl who managed to escape the Red Room and she’s put Yelena onto it. But you escaped over a year ago and have no intention of being found (Part 1)

A/N: Here we go: my first not-Peaky fanfic on this blog. I started writing this one a while back and I’ve written a few more parts already, but I just wanna see first if anyone is interested in this one. Also, I wrote this one with an OC originally, but decided to post it as a reader insert, because people on here prefer those usually. Anyways, let me know what you think and whether you’d like to read more!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Words: 3228

*****

“Yelena.”

“Hi! Are you calling me from your superhero friends’ headquarters? Are they with you now? How is the god from space doing? Tell them I said ‘hi’!” She excitedly answered the phone, only to suddenly change her tone, “Wait, what is wrong with you? You sound so serious.”

Natasha was serious, “I need you to track someone down.”

“I am,” her younger sister still didn’t quite understand, “You gave me the file with all the girls, remember? I’ve been tracking them all down for the last months.”

“I know, I’ve heard.” Still there was the urgency in her sister’s voice and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yelena. “This one is special.”

“They all are.” To Yelena, this was a matter of principle; from faceless weapons they were now free women, all important and valued. Still she understood, “Special why?”

Natasha sighed on the other end of the line, “Do you remember everything Dreykov did after I managed to get out?” She tried to hide the guilt from her voice as much as she could, but didn’t quite manage it.

“Of course. The security got much stricter, punishments harder, and the chemical subjugation. No one escaped after that.”

“Well, someone did,” Natasha said sharply. “Another girl managed to get away, only a year ago. She escaped from the woods, when they were training her. During the blind dropping.”

Yelena remember that part of their training well. The young girls were dropped in the middle of the woods during the freezing winter and had to get back on their own. It had taken her days to do it. A lot of girls never came back. “But wait, that means she’s only small...” she wondered out loud.

“I think she’s twelve now, thirteen maybe?”

“How did she get away? The tracker...”

“She cut it out of her leg,” Natasha finished her sentence for her. “This must’ve been before they did the operation on her.”

“Umnaya devochka...” Yelena mused with some admiration in her voice.

“She won’t be in your files.”

“I can find her,” Yelena said confidently, “if you can tell me where she was last seen?”

“St. Petersburg,” Natasha was obviously rummaging through some files on the other end, “but that was almost a year ago.”

Yelena nodded and was quiet for a little while. Then she wondered, “Why is she special? To you. There were so many little girls. We all were little girls once.”

Her sister didn’t reply straight away and when she did, some emotion slipped into her voice, “She doesn’t have anyone. I checked. Dreykov killed her whole family. And she managed to get away, just her, but now she has nowhere to go and no one to go to. I think she deserves someone looking out for her for once.”

“I think so too. I will look out for her,” Yelena answered decidedly, “I will find her.”

Natasha felt a certain relief wash over her. She knew Yelena would understand. After all, if she didn’t, who would?

*****

Six weeks later, Yelena was staying in a small apartment somewhere in Camden Town in London. It had taken her quite a while to track down the little girl who somehow had slipped through Dreykov’s fingers. She’d survived the Red Room and found a way to use it to her advantage. Yelena decided that as soon as she’d found the girl, she would have to ask her a lot of questions on how she did it.

But the kid was slippery, as Natasha would say. In the last month, she’d moved cities twice and changed the name she went by four times. In St. Petersburg, they called her ‘Anya’ at one of the shelters where she sometimes went for food. In Berlin, the homeless kids mentioned a girl named ‘Lisa’ that fit her description. In Paris, she’d dyed her hair, clever girl, and went by ‘Cleo’ and then ‘Lilian’. Finally, Yelena tracked her to London, where she heard rumours of a ‘Maisie’ living rough, which was funny to Yelena, because that name did not suit her at all. She felt like she knew the girl already.

But the trail kept going cold. Yelena was constantly chasing shadows and rumours, never catching actual sight of her. Until London. Up until a few days ago, the former assassin had spend days gathering information and had gotten a recent description. And then, when she wasn’t even really looking for her, she’d seen a kid on the streets. It was only a glance but Yelena knew it was her.

“Hehe, there you are, you little fish,” Yelena whispered to herself, as she observed a child that had gotten so good at not attracting any attention to herself, that Yelena noticed at once. Right now, she was walking around the farmers market in Islington and she’d already managed to nick two apples, some chocolate and some more chocolate, a can of coke and a loaf of bread. All the food disappeared into her seemingly endless pockets. Yelena smirked at the sight.

“Well, that explains one thing,” she told the little hooded figure from far away, “how you managed to survive the Red Room’s starvation techniques. Let’s see what you do next, rybochka.״

But as Yelena made her way to follow the girl who had just rounded a corner, she saw that she had vanished. “Shit,” she hissed and cursed herself internally for being spotted. Quickly, she started running until she caught a glimpse of the blue raincoat the girl was wearing. Fast a lighting, she darted through the crowds and Yelena had the hardest time keeping up with her. Through the streets she chased her, waiting for her to slip up somehow, but she never did. Nimbly, the girl suddenly sprinted into a narrow little street and Yelena almost ran by it. At the end, she jumped over a few cars and crossed the road, while Yelena had to wait for them to pass before she could follow. She was losing her, a twelve-year-old girl, and it bothered her immeasurably.

“Oh, come on!” the blonde called out, as the kid suddenly did a double take and disappeared into the crowds again. Full of frustration, Yelena shoved people aside left and right to her. And then, pure luck, she recognised the raincoat right in front of her. She grabbed it tightly and tried to tackle the girl to the ground, though carefully, very much aware that this was just a child. However, this child had received years of training in one of the most severe facilities on earth and as soon as she felt Yelena’s tightened grip on her shoulder, she spun around, ducked and flipped her assailant over her shoulder.

With an “oooff” filled with surprise and embarrassment, Yelena hit the pavement. “Seriously?” she muttered and in that moment, she locked eyes with the strange girl. It was like the world stopped for a few seconds. Yelena recognised both the fear and the resolution in the other’s eyes. She opened her mouth to say something to calm her down, but as she moved to get up, the girl kicked sand from the streets into her eyes. Spluttering, the assassin wiped her face and lost sight of the girl. When she pushed herself up, she was gone.

Cursing loudly in Russian, Yelena attracted quite a bit of attention on the crowded streets. She huffed with irritation and walked away. Then she took out her phone and called her sister.

“Did you find her yet?” Natasha answered by way of greeting.

“I lost her.”

“Again?” she sighed, “She’s only twelve, Yelena.”

Full of indignation, she protested, “Well, none of this would have happened if you would have given me the correct information sooner! She is too smart now.”

“Smarter than you?” Some sarcasm laced Natasha’s voice and Yelena could practically hear her smirking on the other end.

“I have sand in my eyes...”

“Poor baby,” She now not even tried to hide the humour in her voice. “Do you need me to come down there to help you?”

“Yes,” Yelena replied at once, mainly because she just wanted to see her sister again, but reconsidered, “No. No, I know you are busy with superhero stuff.”

Natasha was silent for a little while, letting her younger sister sulk for a bit, “Stop chasing her. You’re probably only scaring her away. Remember what they taught us about being followed?”

“Find out who is following you and why.” The tactical theories had been an integral part of their training.

“Exactly.”

Yelena bit her lip and suddenly smiled, “I know where she’s going next.”

*****

As soon as you were certain you’d lost the assassin, you made your way back to Camden Town. For a couple of weeks now, you’d noticed someone on your trail and while you’d had your suspicions, your pursuer managed to remain in the shadows for the most part. Until the last few days: you’d decided to flip the tables on her and tried following her. This all went according to plan, up until today. Still, you figured you could use your little scuffle to your advantage, because now she’d be busy trying to find you. This gave you a chance to check out her apartment and learn more about her.

It hadn’t been hard for you to figure out where she’d been staying. In fact, it had been laughably easy, if you knew what to look for. And so, only half an hour later, you were standing in front of the right building.

Now for a way to get in. You debated climbing up the walls, but there were a few too many tourist out and about for your liking. As a stroke of luck, one of them walked up to the front door and was currently fiddling with the keys.

“Let me try,” you walked up to him with a winning smile. “My mum owns this apartment, there’s a bit of a trick to it...” Without suspicion, he handed you the keys and soon enough, you’d opened the door. “See?” you charmingly beamed up at him. He didn’t think anything of it as you followed him inside.

After waving after the tourist, you walked up the stairs to the third floor. You knew it had to be one of two apartments on the front side of the building. Singing some Russian song to yourself, you settled on trying one of them.

Forcing the lock was a piece of cake and it took you about four seconds to do so. After looking around for a few moments, you knew you’d picked the right apartment. Everything looked staged somehow: there was some furniture and even a few knick-knacks scattered around, but none of it really seemed to reflect a real personality. This was an assassin’s cover story, without a doubt.

“Bed first,” you whispered to yourself, as you lifted up the mattress to look for the most obvious hiding places. Nothing there. Then you checked a few random drawers and eventually made your way to the kitchen. There, on the table and in plain sight, you found a postcard yet to be sent. You flipped the image of Nelson on his column around and on the back was written: ‘The biggest poser of them all, just for you. Love, Yelena.”

“Yelena...” you tried out the name carefully. Suddenly, your stomach made a growling noise and you went in search of some food.

Just as you had your head stuck inside the refrigerator, you heard a sound behind you. Quickly, you slammed the door shut and ran for the bedroom window, but when you got to it, a blonde was blocking the way.

“Hi!” she cheerfully said, which only gave more rise to the panic you felt building up inside of you. So, she continued, “You know, if you are looking for more food, I can make us something.”

“Shit,” you hissed and ran into the other direction.

Behind you, you heard her call out, “You do not have to run, I am happy to cook us something. I am hungry too, you know!”

Not knowing what else to do, you fled into the little bathroom and locked the door. Breathing heavily, you tried your very best to keep your focus, just as you were taught. But panic settled into the pit of your stomach, because as soon as you laid eyes on her again, you were certain: she was a widow. And you’d rather die than be taken back to the Red Room.

“Little fish...” she called out from the other side of the door, “Please just stop. It is no use. That window will not open. I have tried.”

You tried the window and cursed again at finding she was right.

“Yes, much shit,” the voice confirmed.

You slapped the side of your head three times, telling yourself to snap out of it. The only way you are going to survive this, you told yourself, is by staying calm and thinking.

“I just want to talk. And eat.”

But her talking to you didn’t help. In fact, it only increased the urgency to flee you felt. Finally, you let yourself slide down against the door and sighed. If you were going to get out of here, you needed to find a way out of this bathroom first.

Yelena, on the other side, sat down with her back against the door as well. And even though she remembered being that age so well, and she understood all the fear and distrust you were probably feeling right now, she had a hard time finding the right words. So, instead she asked, “During the dropping, how did you manage to escape the dogs? I mean, you cutting the tracker from your leg was smart, I will give you that, but that also makes me wonder: why did they not notice sooner that it was no longer moving? And how did you manage to get out of the forest without dying of frostbite first? I just have a lot of questions, you know, and I really would like some answers, because now I feel stupid for not thinking about all of that when I had my dropping.”

“You wanna know so you can tell them where to upgrade their security?” The words had left your mouth before you could stop them.

“No, rybochka, of course not. Besides, there is no point now. The Red Room is gone.”

You sucked in a deep breath, hopeful for a second, but immediately telling yourself this must be a lie.

“You don’t believe me?” Yelena seemed to sense your emotions, “I have proof.”

Considering all your options quickly, you realised you didn’t have many. “If I come out, you swear not to touch me?”

You heard some movement outside of the bathroom and realised she was getting up. “I swear it. And if I did, you’d probably throw me across the room again.”

Furrowing your brows and wondering if this was another joke, you opened the door and moved out with your back against the wall. There you found Yelena, standing in the middle of the room with her hands up, and a slight smirk on her face.

“Dreykov send you?” you asked, still eyeing all the possible exits.

“Dreykov’s dead.”

You narrowed your eyes, “How do you know?”

“I blew him up. Boom. Just like that,” the blonde smirked again at the memory, “First, we set the Red Room on fire and when they tried to escape, I sabotaged the engine and blew up the ship as they tried to get away.”

“How?”

“I stuck my baton into the propeller and it exploded. Like fireworks,” Yelena nodded proudly.

You frowned again, “There’s no way you would have survived that.”

The assassin made her way to the kitchen, but continued in a conversational tone, “I almost died, but my sister jumped after me and attached her parachute to me. Natasha saved me.”

“Right,” you nodded slowly, still very unsure of what was fact and what was fiction in this story.

“Listen, rybochka, I understand you don’t trust me now. It is okay, but I just want to help you.”

You felt at the lining of your pocket to feel for the reassuring presence of a knife there. “Why do you keep calling me ‘fish’?”

“Because you are slippery and also cute.”

Some strange part of you did like this strange assassin that was probably send to kill you. She felt familiar somehow, like you’d known her for a long time.

“Now what?” you finally asked.

“Now you give me your knife,” she glared at you strictly, like you imagined maybe a mother or sister would, “the one you keep in your pants.”

Rolling your eyes, you produced the small weapon and reached out towards her. But as Yelena tried to take it from your hands, you swiftly kicked her to the side and dashed forwards.

“What was that for!” she shouted out, full of genuine hurt. With a growl, she dodged the next few blows you tried to land. Quickly, you became aware of the fact that she was a lot more skilled than you were but you had one advantage: she tried her very best not to hurt you. Guess there were some upsides to being only twelve.

Yelena jumped out of the way and avoided the chair you threw at her. “Enough!” she warned you, “Stop fighting me or I will have to fight back.” By way of an answer, you kicked the door in her face and sprinted across the little corridor.

This was your mistake, because in those few seconds, you lost sight of her. The moment you rounded the corner, you were tackled to the floor. Yelena quickly straddled your waist and pinned your hands as you tried to claw at her face.

“Calm down!” she instructed loudly, trying to make herself heard over your loud shrieks, “I do not want to hurt you!”

“Maybe I do want to hurt you!” you ground out. Again, you felt a part of you wanting to trust her, but you just couldn’t let yourself do it.

“So stubborn...” Yelena gritted her teeth, as she tried to keep your squirming form in place. “Fine,” she suddenly let go, “As a sign of trust on my part, I will not stop you. Go on, little fish, hit me.”

You balled up your fist and pulled it back, but for some reason, you couldn’t do it.

“Good.” She climbed off of you, “Now we can eat.”

You watched her walk away and wondered, “Are you the Yelena?”

“Yelena Belova, and yes, you have heard from me.”

You had: ‘the greatest child assassin’. It was like she could read your mind, “But I am not her anymore. I am free now.”

“How?”

“I will explain while we eat. Come, little fish,” with a small smile, she motioned for you to follow her.

“Stop calling me ‘fish’!” You got up and walked over to the kitchen.

Yelena was gathering different groceries and you wondered vaguely what on earth she planned on making with all of that. Meanwhile, she stated, “But I don’t know what else to call you. What is your name?”

“It’s Y/N,” you whispered, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Yelena smiled warmly at you, “Y/N is a nice name, rybochka.”

*****

Masterlist

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erenspussy420 · 1 year

Text

Babygirl Pose with the House Wardens pt 1.

You read this right.

Sometimes I like to think I’m hilarious.

TWST Guys who may or may not do the Babygirl TweetTweet Pose: The Answers may surprise you!

GN Reader Insert, however Darling is used instead of Y/N

THIS IS JUST DUMB CRACK I WROTE WHILE I WAS AT WORK

Slightly NSFW , so I’m gonna add a cautionary MDNI, 18+ Only!

Remember this blog is a NSFW one, so please beware! Be kind and courteous!

Reader is coming in with so much confidence this will work.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Doesn’t even know what a ‘babygirl’ pose is, until Cater tells him

He’s so upset with you, Darling, why? Why do you have to do this to him? And right in front of his strawberry tart!

Will keep denying to do that scandalous, undignified pose of a man of his shortness stature. Even if you have to get on your knees and beg him.

He loves you darling, no doubt about it, but please think of his blood pressure when you pull your ‘memes’ on him and bring this poor guy a sweet tart.

After the long day of learning babygirl poses from Cater, he would CURIOUSLY do it once, in the privacy of his room with no one else in sight. Did it and immediately felt shame.

Leona Kingscholar: NO, but also YES

(You/ Darling texting: Babe you love me enough to do a babygirl pose for me right?😘 )

(Leona : -last seen at 12:45 pm)

He’s so sick of your shit sometimes, Darling. (He loves you, I swear)

You must really love doing life or death situations, or Leona just loves you enough to not kick you out right there- to keep doing this shit to him.

Consciously would never do this, would rather go put effort into his classes and graduate than do any of your memes.

HOWEVER, Leona is a lion, he got that instinct though.

Handsome lion man waking up from a good ass nap, sleeping on his stomach, gets up all groggy and just stretches.

Someone must love you enough to have you walk in on this purrfect moment, to see him on his knees doing a lions man version of a babygirl pose, HIS BOOBS ARE POPPING THE SEAMS OF HIS SHIRT HERE. He’s doing this cute kneading too!

His ears twitch at the sound of your camera shutters, he snaps awake at what he’s doing and sees the phone in your hand

“Tch, So you got what you wanted huh? Well darling guess what I want? Gimme that phone.”

Kalim Al Asim: YES

He would do this actually, agrees with a cute charming laugh then proceeds to ask Jamil what that is!

`After a long scolding from Jamil, he would still do this for you of course! All in the spirit of fun! Or even not so innocent fun ;) Obviously this is a very private thing you do, can’t have images of the future heir of the powerful Al-Asims come out now do we?

Kalim doing his babygirl pose, decked out in these fancy turquoise and gold silk fabric, that draped over his body and very close to showing off those valuable Al-Asim jewels of his. JUST the fabric. His makeup touched up dark teal and shimmery gold flecks, making the beautiful red ruby hue of his eyes pop out. Beautiful crafted gold bracelets with these tiny jasmine flowers made of opal decorating it with matching anklets.

He’s looking up at you with these hooded eyes, and a cheeky grin. While the original pose is cute, Kalim is taking a more arching back shot for you~! Enjoy his cute ass!

Keep clicking away, this is hot stuff going on!

Take as many photos as you want, he’s not gonna stop you. He’ll ask if you have any other requests

“My precious treasure, did I fill your heart's desire? Haha, now come here and help me slip these off. I still have more for you to see~”

Vil Schoenheit: YES (surprised? Me too)

FIRST OFF WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THE CONFIDENCE TO ASK THIS. You actually begged him for an hour.

He would actually do this.

Demands you hand over your phone first, before turning it off and keeping it in a drawer for now.

You want him to do that ridiculous babygirl pose? Fine, he will then. He’s Vil Schoenheit, one of the best actors out there, and still rising in the ranks, this is nothing to him.

This man! This man on his sheets, slipping into a beautiful plum colored silk robe embroidered with silver tree branches, loosely tied and the hem cut short, so please I begging here appreciate this man’s thighs–

His pose has him leaning towards you, with a slow crawl of a predator, your hands are shaking and you’re wishing you had your phone because you sure as hell want a video of Vil swaying his hips as he comes towards you. Those half lidded eyes with a piercing look, his hair down and loose that brush over his collar bone that peaked out from his robe.

WELL TOO BAD HE TOOK IT.

You’ll have to burn this image into your brain, there’s no other way! (Except if you paid attention you can hear the zealous whimpering of a hunter trying hard not to let his excited cries escape.)

You’ll remember this no matter what. Cause this is the only time he’ll ever do this for you. If you ever asked why he did this, seeing as he shot down other trends, the babygirl pose would have been one of them. However, Vil would gracefully toss his hair back with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Well, no one will ever believe you.”

#twst headcanons #twst kalim #twst leona #twst vil #vil shoenheit x reader #twst kalim x reader #kalim al asim smut #twst riddle rosehearts #riddle roseheart smut #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #reader insert #crack twst

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absurdthirst · 2 years

Text

Kinktober 2022: October 6th

Day 6: Prostitution/Sex Work // Underwear // Tentacles

Mando x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Non-human/human sex, masturbation, anal penetration, tentacles, double penetration, pussy slapping

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You had assumed the Mandalorian was human. It was a mistake on your part.

In your defense, you never saw the skin beneath the beskar and duraweave. The thick layers that protected his skin and hid the secrets that you were now fully aware of. As a Mandalorian, he was forbidden from showing his face to most of the galaxy. At least that had been what he had told you. Now you wonder if it was that, or to hide the yellow cat eyes that had stared at you when you had walked into the cockpit, unaware of what you would be walking into.

Tentacles. He has tentacles. It’s either that or something had climbed aboard the Razor Crest and was doing things to your boss.

It is something that you had never imagined seeing. Bright blue arms with vivid yellow suckers and red ligulas. There were so many of them. Everywhere and you mean everywhere. You had never imagined to see so much of the Mandalorian. Especially not in this sense.

You had seen too much but then again, you hadn’t seen enough as you stared. It was gloriously dirty an erotic. So many arms and nearly all of them sprouting from his body and wrapping around him while you had apparently interrupted self pleasure time.

Shocked, you take in the sight of it. Mando was naked, obviously stripped bare to his skin. His human skin if it weren’t for the tentacles and the eyes. He had two hands, two legs and six tentacles.

Maybe it was the fact that one of the tentacles was firmly inserted in what you assumed was his ass, unless he had a pussy. Buried deep and it continued to move even as you stood there staring, pushing a moan out of Mando’s lips.

Another tentacle was wrapped around his cock. The aboral side facing you while you assume the yellow suckers were putting pressure on the impressive length. It was surprising that his dick wasn’t a tentacle itself. It could have been the way the long, girthy man meat seemed to tower up from his crotch.

Two more tentacles are furling around him, the ligulas flicking against the flat brown nipples on his scared chest. The other two are still moving, sliding up and down his body and through his hair. Caressing him almost lovingly. It was hypnotizing and lusty, no wonder Mando never seemed to crave the touch of another. Those tentacles could do everything he could want besides being a mouth around his cock. Unless the slickness of the arms would mimic that as well.

“Shit…” Your word is practically whimpered while you stand there frozen until you remember yourself. “Shit! Shit, I’m so sorry Mando!” Your body whirls around and you close your eyes too little, too late. You’ve seen him without his helmet, his face burned into your mind.

A fissure of fear curls in your stomach, unsure of what happens to people who see Mandalorians without their helmets. Does he have to kill you? Pluck out your eyes? Cut out your tongue so you couldn’t tell anyone what you had seen? You tremble as you wait for him to say something, anything but the small grunts that are still coming out of him and the slick sounds of the tentacle moving in and out of his ass.

“Come here.” He rasps out, his voice different now that he doesn’t have the modulator. You bite your lip to keep from whimpering. Shuffling backwards and stumbling slightly on the steel grates that made up the floor. He chuckles and you hate the way that it makes your cunt bottom out. “You didn’t have a problem staring just a moment ago.”

“I- I - I was sh-shocked.” You manage, jumping when you feel something warm, wet, touching your arm. You try to jerk away but you quickly figure out that it’s one of the tentacles, the suckers attaching to your skin and wrapping around to have you firm in its hold. You wonder if it was one of the free arms, or if it was one that was….tending to Mando.

“And now?” He asks, making your ears prick. He doesn’t sound angry, or upset like you had imagined he would have been if you had ever seen his face. Not that you thought of that often. Nope, not at all.

“I- I’m-”

“Disgusted?” His tone is curious, almost playful as he pants. You can still hear movement and feel it in the appendage that is touching you, constantly curling and flexing over your skin and you can’t help but imagine what it would feel like in other places.

“No.” You rush out quickly, shaking your head and you want to turn around to express that to him, but you can’t. Now when you’ve already violated his creed, or maybe it didn’t count because you hadn’t removed his helmet. “I’m n-not disgusted.”

He hums, sounding very interested in that fact. Another tentacle curls around you, but it doesn’t grab you, instead it explores your body, roaming over your curves as if it’s a hand. An extension of Mando’s body and you guess that it is. Making your heart speed up and your breathing come in short bursts.

“You’re interested.” It’s not a question, instead it’s stated as a fact.

You wouldn’t deny it. You’ve had too many fantasies about the beskar covered man to deny it. They didn’t quite involve tentacles when you were playing them out in your head, but you are nothing if not flexible.

“I’m interested.” You breathe out and immediately there are two more tentacles on your body, expertly tugging on your clothes and peeling them off of you as deftly as if you had fingers from multiple hands.

It makes you moan, closing your eyes and you wonder what he’s going to do to you.

****

It’s fucking amazing. You’re never having sex with a human again. Fuck just having a cock and fingers. Tentacles are where it’s at. You’re on his lap and his cock is buried deep inside your cunt. A tentacle in your ass and another’s suckers are attached to your clit, making your eyes roll back in your head.

His hands are on your breasts, cupping them and you moan out loudly when he pinches them with his fingers and rolls them hard enough that you clench down around both of his appendages.

“Fuck Mando.” You wail, unable to believe that it is this good. So much attention is being paid to your body but the arms. You can feel the tentacle moving inside him and butting against his prostate. “Dank ferik, it-it’s so good.”

He grunts in your ear, ragged and hot. “Th-thought about you in here.” He admits, making you whimper at that little fact. “When I- when I was alone. How you would feel.” He huffs and rocks his hips up.

It’s so fucking good you don’t know what you like more, his cock or the tentacle. But the one on your clit could stay there forever. Just flexing and squeezing the bundle of nerves like that for the rest of your life and you will go out with a smile on your face.

“H-how do-do you h-hide them?” You manage, the other two tentacles wrapping around your waist with a strength that makes it easy to see why he can throw around bounties three times his size, they lift and lower you at a quick pace on his cock. Maker, you want to be stuffed full of just the tentacles after this.

He grunts, twitching inside you and the multiple arms around your body, touching you, possessing you seem to tighten. “Wrap around my body.” He groans. “It’s not all beskar that makes- makes me that broad.”

You can’t help but giggle, followed by a long moan that is loud enough to echo through the Crest. His cock and tentacle pushing deep and managing to find the sweet spots inside you. A long, slithering arm caresses your cheek and you lean back as far as you can. You know that you will be held. He has plenty of ‘arms’ to spread your weight across - even if he wasn’t abnormally strong.

You’re gonna cum all over his lap, making a mess over all the body parts. “Let me do something.” Mando rasps in your ear, making you wonder what else he could possibly do.

“Anything.”

Your answer is immediately taken advantage of. That last, lonely little tentacle that had been caressing your face slides across your lips, pushing past them and into your mouth. You gasp and Mando moans again. “Breath through your nose, Mesh’la.” He warns, the arm moving deeper and pushing past any gag reflex you have.

You know that you are going to cum, spit sliding down your chin and your holes stuff full of cock and whatever his other talented fucking appendages are made of. Your clit pulsing when the suckers pull off and the bastard slaps your pussy with his tentacle. Mando squeezes your tits and his hips slap against your ass harder, bouncing you both in the pilot’s chair.

You would scream if you could. Stars bursting in a myriad of colors behind your eyes. But its muffled, the feeling of the tentacle makes you think that it’s reaching your stomach, and all you can do is vibrate around it.

Squelching loudly, Mando furiously pumps both cock and tentacle into your abused little holes, making you squeal when they punch deep and you feel light headed, like you are about to pass out from the pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, they don’t stop. Continuing to work in and out of you, even when Mando’s hips stutter and his cock pulses inside you, coating your walls with the sticky heat of his seed, the other parts of him attached and inside you continue to move. The arm in your throat pulsing in sync with the one in your ass and that glorious little arm on your clit was going to get so many kisses when you can move again.

Pushing you to the point of tears streaming down your face and your body bucking, you know that you are going to cum again and again until the tentacles that have you in their grip relax and from the way that Mando is whining and moaning behind you, you don’t think that’s happening anytime soon. Fuck, you love tentacles.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #the mandalorian #mando #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x f!reader #mando smut #mando imagine #mando fanfic #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x you

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thomasisaslut · 6 months

Text

Severus Snape x F!Reader

Delayed Gratification — KTober

Word Count: 1k

Includes: Delayed Gratification, Oral (M), Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51008719

On Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1391144066-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑-𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝-𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧-𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬-𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐞

You've had a crush on your Potion's Master for years now, more specifically, since your sixth year. You are now in your eighth, meaning you're nineteen.

But currently, you were hiding away in his supply closest, pleasuring yourself. You've yet to cum, your body trembling as you continue to finger yourself.

"S-Severus..." You moan out, you insert another finger, now scissoring yourself with your index, middle, and ring finger.

Luckily, it was late at night so no one should be up. That was what you thought until the door handle begins to move. You quickly withdraw your fingers, sliding back up your panties but it was too late.

"Ms. [Last Name]...?" Your professor calls out, his tone a mix of confusion and anger. "What do you think you're doing?"

Your cheeks flush a deep crimson red, you look away from his gaze. "Nothing..." You mutter.

"Nothing?" You swear you heard him laugh. His calloused hand finds your jaw, he cups it in his hand and forces you to look up at him. "That didn't sound like nothing."

"I-I don't even know what you mean! I was..." You look around as if trying to find a lie to come up with. "trying to take ingredients... obviously."

"Mhm..." He inches closer, Severus' forehead on your own. "How about you tell me the truth?"

"I was..." You hesitate, you know that he will find out one way or the other. No need to lie. "Pleasuring myself..."

"Mm..." His hand on your jaw tightens it grip. "To who?"

"You." You blurt out, before you can say anything else he connects your lips in a rough kiss. Your back hit's the ladder in the small storage closet.

You instantly kiss back, you bite his bottom lip which causes him to gasp—you instantly take that opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Severus pulls back before his hand moves from your jaw to your neck, squeezing it—but not hard enough to make you lose your air.

"You were touching yourself think of me, hm?" Severus smirks.

"Y-Yes, Professor..."

His other hand moves to your wet panties, he applies pressure over your clothed clit, making your breath hitch.

"So wet..." Severus kisses your neck, nose tickling your nape. "All for me?"

You moan in reply, a confirmation. His smirk only grows from your reactions.

"Tell me, Ms. [Last Name], how many times have you done this before?" His fingers slip past your waistband and begin to rub circles on your clit.

"So many times..." You moan, his hand fingers twitch around your esophagus. His breath coasting along your nape before he sucks a deep, dark love bite onto your neck. "C-Countless."

"Countless? How long has this been going on?" He whispers before sucking another hickey into your flesh.

"Since.. mm.. sixth year." You admit, embarrassed.

"Two years then? And you've never showed it..." His fingers tease the entrance of your soaked core. "I'm impressed by how well you've hid it." Severus' index and middle finger enter you, halting for a few moments before sliding in and out. "My best student lusting after me, and I haven't even noticed." You feel his smirk form against your neck.

"Didn't want you to know..." You gasp as he inserts a third finger, the three begin to scissor open your aching cunt.

"Yet you pleasure yourself in my supply closet?"

"It smelled like you..." You feel your nipples harden as he hits that sweet, soft spot inside of you. "Made me feel close to you."

A deep chuckle escapes his throat. "Well, it turned out to be a lucky occasion to you." He moves his hand from your throat which causes your to whine, well, until you heard his belt clink against the stone floor, his black pants fallen to the floor. "Knees." Severus demands as he withdraws his fingers from your core.

You instantly sink to your knees before him, you shuck down his boxers and your eyes go wide at the sight of him—you were purely in shock, you've given a blow job before but not to someone so... large. His cock has to be at least seven whole inches, it twitches as it hits the cold air of the confined space.

"It's large.." You murmur, Severus grips your hair while his other hand—wet with your slick—lubes his cock.

"Yes, now suck." He demands.

You instantly scoot closer, your hands go to his hips before you take the pink tip into your mouth, you lick in the small slit before taking in the first few inches. Severus remains silent which only causes you to work harder. You move his cock further down your throat, his grip tightens in your hair.

"Fuck..." He grunts, you smirk satisfied which causes him to slam his cock to the back of your throat. You choke around it but that doesn't stop you, in fact it makes your arousal grow.

You move one of your hands from his hip, sliding it to his balls. You begin to squeeze and tease them, you feel them tighten in your hand and that signs he is close.

"Take it... oh, fuck!" Severus moans before shooting his release down your throat. You drink every bit of his load, some of it leaks onto your hand, when you slide him out of your mouth—you nearly moan at the sight of his cock slick with your saliva—and slick up the cum that fell to your hand. You smirk as you see his cock grow hard again.

"Minx." He mutters, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

"You... enjoyed it though." You chuckle, voice hoarse.

"Yes..." He admits after a moment. "I did."

Your position only makes your wetness worse, the way he looks from this angle...

"Such a shame..." Severus begins. "Detention on Monday." He smirks.

"But-"

"Bad girls don't get rewarded, Ms. [Last Name]." Severus slides back up his boxers then his pants, fixing his belt.

You stand up, knees aching in protest as you do so, you step closer to Severus. "I look forward to it." You smirk back before kissing him, he instantly kisses back.

"As do I... I hope you're good up until then..." His fingers graze against your clit before leaving the storage room.

Leaving you alone and aching, well, until Monday.

#severus snape x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #severus snape #severus x reader #severus x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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zyafics · 22 days

Note

idk if it’s just me but I find it weird that a ton of people like make readers childlike (?)

In a lot of rafe fics I’ve seen on here recently, they ALL make the reader have no sense of like fucking anything???

Or they like over sexual both rafe and the reader in a ton of fics I also see. If I brang up how many fanfic apps/sites over sexual many male characters it’d be soo controversial.

Also I came across this one page where it had dark content and I was like okay normal but then I was reading one of the fics posted and they had rafe SA the reader and I stopped reading bc wtf?? then I checked her other fics she posted and she had rafe AGAIN SA the reader. im honestly so so concerned.

theres this phenomenon where, when you’re in a relationship (often with a man), you tend to age-regress in the way you talk and act. i didn’t believe it until i saw my college-aged friends end up acting like babies (for a lack of a better word?) to their boyfriends. they would always speak in a high-pitched voice, want to be coddled and treated like they don’t know anything and let their man take care of them. and their man DO enjoy it.

personally, i cannot see myself be in that role because i think i’m too hyper-independent (hahaha) but i understand where they’re coming from, psychologically. additionally, fiction is meant to be an expression of what the writers want to navigate and explore for themselves and if they want to write that type of reader insert, it’s their thing. when i come upon it and it gets too much, i just click off because i know it’s just not for me.

(but i also believe it’s good to have criticism because there can be unintentional consequences for those types of fics to go on without being critiqued)

lastly, i think dark!rafe is a thing? it comes down to trigger warning and framework. if they’re framing it as romantic and sexual-gratifying to be raped, then yes, obviously very problematic. but a lot of dark!rafe content sometimes have non-con/dub-con that explores a darker nature of rafe’s character. i don’t have much thought other than proper trigger warnings, don’t romanticize sexual abuse / rape, and understanding what type of fanfic you’re reading

#ask #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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miscfandomgifimagines · 1 year

Text

Random Lyle HCs

These are purely selfish sfw headcanons of my favorite blue boy. I’m not personally really familiar with the Avatar lore so I’m just going off my own imagination on some stuff. Also not sure how I want to go about my smut hc/fic for him so I’m stalling by writing this lol. I’m hoping to have some free time later this week to sit down and write some more, but I can’t make any promises. I’m really torn because all of my writing so far is done with my human oc as the base of my headcanons and I’m not sure if people would read my stuff if I used my oc and not reader inserts. Let me know if you have a preference one way or the other, maybe it’ll help me figure out what to do.

* Lyle is the type of person who would carry around a picture of someone close to him wherever he goes. The specific picture of you that he carries around? It’s a mirror selfie where you and Lyle are standing in front of the mirror flexing your biceps with a huge grin on both of your faces. Every time he looks at the picture he feels comforted. I don’t feel like the other recoms would make fun of pictures like this because everyone has someone special in their life that they would want by their side during rough moments.

* I feel like Lyle would be the type of person who wouldn’t mind reading, maybe not college textbooks or romance novels. But magazines about cars, fitness, guns, or anything similar? Loves them and reading them is one of his favorite low-energy hobbies.

* Lyle actually thinks most of Pandora’s wildlife is pretty cool. Back on Earth a lot of animals had died out so there really wasn’t anything aside from the occasional house pets. (*Not super familiar with the lore of Avatar’s Earth so idk if this is even accurate but just roll with it*) Obviously has a very healthy fear of most of the things crawling around in the jungle but every time he sees a cool lizard or even those monkeys he always stares for a bit. His favorite animal on Pandora? Ikran, his specifically. He thinks they are dope as hell and loves how vibrant the patterns are. Flying is just an added bonus.

* Still dedicated to his mission but finds his mind wandering about other possibilities such as what would happen if they fail again. He’s weirded out by being in an Avatar body the way it is now and the idea that all his memories are on a data stick in someone’s lab somewhere makes him uneasy. He doesn’t want to die but has the sinking feeling that the RDA would keep bringing everyone back as many times as it would take to finish business so to speak.

* Not one to believe in happy endings, especially after everything he’s been through but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be a nice change. Your presence through the readjustment period was a godsend and he’s crossing his fingers that you’ll get to keep in touch even as the mission progresses. Sometimes in the morning, he’ll just stare at you in the kitchen while you make yourself breakfast almost like if he moved his eyes from your frame you would disappear. When you catch him staring you make fun of him a little bit. “I’m not going to share if you keep staring like that.” Or “Why don’t you make yourself useful and start washing some of the dishes if you’re just going to sit there ogling.”

* Doesn’t like sharing even with the other recoms, but he makes an exception for Z-Dog simply because she’s the only one he trusts not to break his stuff. Quaritch is usually a no too surprisingly unless it’s necessary for the mission or to maintain a decent relationship. Gets kind of possessive over his stuff just because he hates when people take his stuff and don’t put it back.

* Lyle likes to listen to music when he’s at home base during his downtime. Whether that’s just by himself in his room, out in the common quarters with the gang, or in the science loft with you while you play your own music. I feel like he’d be the type to like mainly rock music personally, but he doesn’t make too much of a fuss about what other people are playing as long as it’s disrupting the quiet. I could totally see him branching out to metal music when he’s in the gym cuz it hypes him up.

* He’s surprisingly decent at braiding his own hair but insists that you do it when he gets out of the shower. He’ll sit on the floor crisscrossed in front of the couch and nestles between your legs, enjoying the warmth that comes from your skin. Sometimes after a stressful day, you spend a little bit of time massaging the back of his neck and the area around his queue gently and he just about melts every time. Also loves it when you sing to him while you comb and braid his hair.

* Sometimes if he doesn’t want your bonding session to end he’ll purposely make it harder for you by moving or swiveling his head around (to your annoyance). “Seriously, sit still! You are such a toddler. You want your shit fixed or what?” You smack him on the side of his head and he lets out a snort. “I thought we agreed to no hitting outside of the bedroom?” You let out a huff and tug his queue a bit. “I never agreed to that, especially not with how annoying you can be.”

* Hates going up into the science loft since the ceilings are shorter than the main level and he smacks his head into the lights and stuff but does it anyway to spend time with you. He’s a pretty selfish person and prefers to have his time with you be just the two of you. He’ll sit on the floor next to your desk and make small talk with you while you work on your projects. When he thinks you’ve been sitting for too long he makes you get up and go down to the kitchen where he’ll make you a snack and have you do some stretching.

* After a long day of you at your desk he loves to go into your room and stretch out (as best he can) on your bed. You like to complain that he messes up your pillows but you really don’t mind it. Lyle likes to pull you onto the bed with him and squishes you against his chest. When it’s just the two of you he doesn’t bother holding back his purrs because he knows you like them, but in front of the group he does his best to quiet it. You’ll usually stay cuddled up together until it’s dinner time or someone calls for him.

* I also think Avatars have scent glands just like normal kitties so when he rubs up against your belongings like your bed or your clothes he’s literally marking you as yours. As a “scientist,” you already knew about this, but you were a bit surprised to catch Lyle marking up the stuff in your room. He was a bit embarrassed when you caught him the first time, but continues to do it to the annoyance of the other recoms.

* I feel like Lyle wouldn’t mind cooking because it’s a necessary life skill to have and he’s pretty good at it. Hunting on Pandora would be a breeze for him. The fresh meat coupled with the veggies growing from your aquaponics would make a damn good meal. I feel like there are also a lot of weird recipes he follows, kinda like what broke college kids/ prison inmates would do (Ramen noodle burritos anybody?). Loves being able to “provide” for you which sounds silly but is always happy to cook for you, especially when you’re busy doing other things.

* Keeps his belongings and room pretty tidy. He’s not one to leave his stuff lying out which makes rooming with him preferable to the others, as you tend to trip on their stuff when they drop it all over the shack. Lyle catches wind of your annoyance and starts shoving stuff into the recom’s rooms so you have a clean living space to walk through.

* Likes helping you out in the gardens, whether it’s the native Pandoran patch outside the shack or the Earth one inside the outbuilding. You and your friend grow a variety of food found on Earth since you were still learning how to adapt to the foods on this planet. You head out each afternoon to check the crops and scribble notes down about the progress and Lyle likes to sneak strawberries when he thinks you aren’t looking.

* Lyle likes to make himself useful however he can whether that’s doing the heavy lifting, reaching for high objects, or fixing stuff around the shack. Does chores without being told to which was a pleasant surprise when you caught him outside fixing the rainwater basin. Loves helping out even more when you reward him with kisses and praise afterward even if he gets teased for kissing ass from the others.

* Hates when he has to leave for extended periods of time as he’s always worried about your safety out in the wilds. He knows he can’t get out of it so he does what he can to prepare you. “Okay so don’t go outside after dark, if you have to you both leave. One of you needs a gun and keep your-“ “Head on a swivel for any hostiles.” You give a small smile and grab his hand. “I know you’re worried, but we’re gonna be okay. You on the other hand need to promise me you’re going to come back. In one piece.” He squeezes your small hand and does his best to look sincere. “I’m always going to come back to you, no matter what happens.”

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vaya-writes · 8 months

Text

Plus Two

So this is more than a bit indulgent, and I don't know how well it would be received, and I totally had to create some new characters just to make this scenario work but!!! If you're looking for something to read here is a reader insert fic of you attending a gala with the worlds (@eldritch-spouse's) most emotionally constipated demon (don't worry it's by design). You scheme against said demon's entitled and rude ex to make her look bad in front of everyone, attend a gala with Mervin, and then fuck nasty with him in a semi public place afterwards. Enjoy <3

M demon x F reader. 8500 words. Context required? Not really. Just that he's like that on purpose. Divider by firefly-graphics.

Mervin is visiting his mother.

It’s... frustrating, to say the least.

You’re sitting in the kitchen, watching Obie cook. He wanted you as a taste tester, but honestly, you’re not very helpful. Many of the small tweaks he’s making to his dishes go above your head.

Katia is asleep upstairs. Ludwig is elsewhere. It makes you wonder why the pride demon is pacing around the kitchen, obviously getting in his brother’s way. You get the sense he’s waiting for somebody to ask what’s wrong.

Thankfully, Obie picks up on the mood. “So, why the stick?”

Mervin stops, drawn from his thoughts. “What?”

“The stick up your ass. Who put it there?”

Mervin scowls and resumes his pacing. Then lets out a huff and joins you at the table. He crosses his arms. Mutters under his breath. You think you catch the name he says.

“Stasia.”

Obie snorts. “Should have guessed.”

You glance at Mervin. “Who’s that?”

He grits his teeth. “Not your business, human.”

You shrug, but Obie turns with a smirk. “His girlfriend.”

“Not my girlfriend, corkscrew.” He’s just as scathing towards his brother.

Obie turns back to the stove. “You might not guess it, but my dearest brother doesn’t have many friends.”

“No?” You feign shock.

Obie grins. “No. But he does have one. Kind of. Stasia. So, whenever Merv is pressured into attending some event or gala, or whatever they do over in Pride, he has to take a date or risk looking like a dolt.”

“And he takes Stasia.”

“And he takes Stasia. Well, he invites her. And she says yes. And then, always the night before, she says no. And then sometimes she says yes again. It’s hard to keep track. Regardless, Merv always works himself into a tizzy when she says she won’t attend, and then shows up anyway.”

You glance at Mervin. He’s fuming at the explanation but doesn’t dispute any of it.

“She sounds like a piece of work.”

“She is.”

You turn to Mervin, who looks more miserable than usual. “So, what do you usually do?”

He rests his head on the table and doesn’t reply.

“Sometimes he cancels. Can’t do that too often though, or risk looking like a recluse. One time he found another date.” Obie frowns. “Somehow. But then Stasia showed up and embarrassed the fuck out of her.”

You wince.

“He usually goes alone. Sometimes Stasia swoops in like nothing is wrong and they’re meant to be together. Other times she doesn’t show, and my dearest brother is left to roam the event by himself.”

“Why do we even have these parties,” Mervin mutters.

“Here, here,” you can’t help but agree. “Even working at them was boring.”

Mervin turns his face towards you, raises his brow. “You’ve been to a gala before? I refuse to believe it.”

Your nose crinkles. “I did security for a few. They were human events, mind you.”

Mervin grunts, turning his face back down.

You kind of pity him. The demon doesn’t even bother sitting up straight – the event must weigh heavily on him. “So, are these parties exclusive?”

He shrugs. “This one’s for mid-ranked Pride. The especially wealthy demons. Might be some others there as plus ones.”

You raise your brow. “I thought you lot grew up in the common rings.”

“We did.”

“Without a lot of wealth.”

Mervin curls his lip at the perceived dig, and sits up. “They started inviting me after they recognised my exceptional skills. I’ve worked for many influential demons in Pride, thank you very much, and as such have a very robust income.”

You appease him with a gentle smile. “I don’t doubt you deserve to be there, Mervin. I was just curious as to how it came about.”

He lifts his chin. “Good. I suppose even a human can recognise talent such as mine.”

“How would everyone react if you brought a human as your date?”

He grimaces, “you mean to imply I should bring you?”

“I mean to offer my company if you don’t want to turn up alone. I could even help you get some petty catharsis over Stasia, if you’d like.”

He looks at you, more sharply. But considers. “I don’t know. You’d be a bit of a novelty, I imagine.”

You feign indignance. “I’m famous, you know.”

He doesn’t look impressed. “Infamous. Topside. Nobody in Perdition knows who you are.”

“Ah, yes, precisely why I’m hiding at your mum’s house.”

His expression sours for a moment. But the longer he considers, the lighter it becomes. “It might be interesting. Taking a human to a gala,” he mutters to himself, “if a little demeaning.”

“Not too demeaning, I hope. I’ll be there to make you look good. Being polite to Stasia, using lovely manners, mindlessly rambling about how amazing you are to anyone I pass. Easy.”

He has to try to keep the scowl on his face, but you can tell he’s seriously considering the offer.

“You’re vastly underestimating the danger of this evening.”

He’s right. But you can’t help but straighten. Rise to the challenge. “And you’re underestimating my ability to turn on the charm.” You give him a sweet little smile. “Besides, you’ll be there to protect me.”

He sneers. “You’re just bored.”

“I'm having a pleasant afternoon with Obie.” You lower your chin. “But, yes, I haven’t left the house for days. It’d be incredibly charitable of you to take me as your plus one.” You blast him with another pretty smile and lighten your tone. “It’s a shame your date had a last-minute emergency and had to cancel, but I’m so very fortunate you were generous enough to bring me along. A truly serendipitous turn of events.”

He keeps his face blank as he mulls over your excuse. Weighs the pros and cons. Before, ultimately, shrugging. “Let’s see how you clean up, first. I doubt your clothes will be of high enough calibre.”

He plays it cool, but you know you’ve won.

Mervin is right, and you don’t bother disputing it. You have a bag of stage clothes that are marginally prettier than your casual wear, but none of them are formal. Some of your accessories might be of use – the lingerie, or perhaps the stockings – and you have multiple pairs of sandals and boots. But what you wear will ultimately be decided by your escort.

“You don’t have anything black tie. These might pass as black tie optional,” he mutters to himself, rifling through your clothes in a way that would probably offend most women. “We should head to Pride. I’ve a place you can dress at. Your makeup supplies are passable, but I’m going to have to take you shopping for a decent dress.”

You don’t complain. It’s been a while since anyone bought you nice clothes. You wave goodbye to Obie as Mervin whisks you away. And before long you’re in another ring entirely.

You hadn’t been to Pride yet. You’d worked in multiple rings, sure, but standards in this one tended to sit a little higher than you could provide. It’s affluent, with the streets laid out in a way that demonic urban planners no doubt agonised over. Mervin leads you straight to a commerce district, dragging you by the wrist in and out of boutiques and dress shops.

He barks orders at imps and attendants, listing off dress styles and materials. Very few meet his standards, though several he does make you try on. You almost get a headache listening to store owners bragging about their stock; the quality of their goods. Even if hearing other demons sound so similar to Mervin makes you want to laugh at first.

“What are you wearing tonight,” you ask him.

He pulls out his phone and shows you a photo. The suit is high end, in his usual colours. You’re not surprised.

He listens to your input over the dresses, for which you’re grateful. You choose the colour you think will match Mervin’s outfit best; a purple so dark it appears black.

Then finally, you’re heading back to his place, three new dresses in tow. You’re not sure how you managed to pick not one but three (three!) gala dresses in the space of one afternoon, but Mervin had insisted on purchasing them all, some excuse about their iffy quality and you needing alternative options.

Once at his place, you let him fuss over the dresses and dig through your accessories again, while you look at your other equipment. A glance at Mervin reveals he’s still in his casual wear, sai crossed over his back. “So, is this an open carry event, or..?”

His gaze cuts to you, where you’re looking over your weapon holsters. His lip curls. “No. It’s not.”

A thigh sheath it is, then.

“You really think that’s going to help you here? You should let me worry about safety. I doubt you’ll be able to take care of yourself.”

You give the demon a too bright smile. “I don't go anywhere without my family jewels. Have you picked a dress yet?”

Conversation successfully redirected, Mervin ushes you to his bathroom, pushing you the dress of his choosing. It’s certainly elegant, with slits up the thighs, a cinched waist, and most the skin above your cleavage on display. The fabric is silky, and feels nice against your skin.

When you step out to show him the fit, Mervin is silent. You wait for him to voice an opinion.

The dress looks good. You look good. You know it.

Mervin only scoffs. “I need to get ready. I assume you can finish dressing without any hand holding.” He turns for his room, almost slamming the door behind him.

You assume his weird behaviour has something to do with his prideful nature. He hadn’t disparaged your appearance, so it probably passes.

You spend the next half hour applying the finishing touches. Braiding your hair into an updo. Masterfully applying makeup. Pulling on a garter belt and stockings and choosing which of your knives to holster. You’re lacing up your sandals when Mervin emerges from his room again, dressed in a suit.

He pushes a box towards you. “Put it on. I don’t want people thinking my plus-one looks plain.”

It’s a jewellery box. Inside lies an intricate necklace of silver, dotted with indigo gems. A discrete glance reveals they match the rings Mervin wears.

You can’t hold back your smile. Regardless of meaning, the gesture is sweet. “Thank you, Mervin. It’s beautiful. You have good taste.”

“Naturally.”

You struggle with the necklace until Mervin ‘tsks’ and steps behind you to help with the clasp.

“You’re a sweetheart,” you grin up at him.

He shakes his head, before looking away quickly. “And you’re useless. Honestly. Who can’t put on a simple necklace?”

You pick up on the deflection. It’s almost cute. You decide to needle at him some more. “Me, apparently. Thank you for helping. I’m sure this would take ages without you.”

He looks down his nose at you. Perhaps you overdid it.

“Whatever.”

Finally you two stand, dressed and ready to go. Looking down at yourself and back at Mervin leaves you satisfied: you match.

“So, do I clean up well enough?”

He looks you over. “You won’t be winning best dressed.”

You raise your brows. He was the one who chose the outfit.

But something almost akin to a smile crosses his face. “But I guess, you’re only human.”

Mervin hires a driver to take you to the gala. You’re honestly impressed, having never ridden in the back of a stretch limo before. You quiz Mervin on the way there, asking after etiquette, who to chat up, who to avoid. How much dancing is expected. What is the schedule for the evening. Everything you should know to avoid making any faux passes. Because while you’d visited high society before – in various service industries – you'd never participated in it. It’s daunting. Exciting. Terrifying.

You make plans for the evening. Scheming; laying contingencies. Because while this night is supposed to be social, you know you’re honestly just here to show up Mervin’s ‘friend’. He paints the picture of a conniving demoness. One who dominated in certain social circles. One who will be dismissive and icy towards you, and increasingly aggressive the longer you stick around.

Mervin dictates how you’re to behave. How you’re to react to her insults. You interject here and there, swapping ideas until you have a seamless blend or characteristics to take into the night. A fleshed out character you’ll be playing before the surrounding audience.

All too soon, you’re arriving.

Mervin opens your door. It had been pre-negotiated, and he’d fussed about it (if anyone deserved the door opened for them, it was him, he should be served all night, he was only doing this because it was polite, because he needed to look like a gentleman). You brace yourself before stepping into the light.

In the moment before you straighten there’s enough time for trepidation to rush through you. You remember how exhausting it can be, meeting new people. Playing pretend.

But then you’re giving Mervin a starry eyed smile, and linking arms. It’s too late to back out.

You’ve settled on a bubbly personality. Too demure and you risk fading into the background. Too assertive and it leaves you open to social mistakes. You’ll go with friendly. Lively. Sweet. Not quite arm-candy, not quite Mervin’s equal.

It’ll be tiring, but you might manage to have some fun. Pry a dance or two out of Mervin. Or try some expensive wine. Somehow Mervin hasn't yet learned how you’d caught his brothers’ eyes (an incident involving too much alcohol, and a bar fight), so you haven't been forbidden from indulging. Yet.

Mervin doesn’t let you wander. You mingle in the foyer, where most of the crowd lingers. Shaking hands, trading introductions, smiling. There’re a few surprised exclamations at your appearance - “A human! Where in Perdition did you find her, Mervin?” - and a few too many pinches and gropes. But you bear it all with a smile, playful indignance, and charming redirection.

You’re just settling into your role when Mervin stiffens, almost imperceptivity.

“There you are, sugar plum. I’ve been looking for you all night.”

Stasia has arrived.

---

Stasia is an envy demon, graced with a classic sort of beauty that would do well on Earth. She has a wide and elegant set of horns, curling back from her temples, and her long tail swishes with confidence behind her as she crosses the room. She’s wearing a floor length evening gown in a bright scarlet, and a lipstick that matches.

Mervin is silent beside you.

You slide into action, another starry eyed, bubbly smile fixed onto your face. “Oh wow, you look gorgeous. You must be Stasia, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Her arms had been open, clearly about to embrace the demon by your side, but you intercept, shaking one of her hands with enthusiasm.

You crinkle your brow and look up at the demoness with concern. “Your schedule cleared then? That’s such a relief. Mervin was worried when you had to cancel on him so suddenly.”

Several sets of eyes land on you. Stasia narrows her own at you, but you’ve already outed her as a flake to the crowd. Somebody nearby laughs.

She pulls her hand from yours. “Mervin, who is this?”

Your companion relaxes. “Stasia, this is an acquaintance of mine,” he tells her your name. “Pet, this is Stasia.” No honorific, you notice. You imagine anyone looking on also notices.

You beam up at the envy demon, “Mervin was generous enough to bring me as his plus-one. I’ve been stuck at home for weeks, it was really too kind of him. I should thank you too, Stasia. You’ve indirectly brought me here.”

The smile frozen on her face slips, just a little.

You’re kept from formulating any further praise – or jabs – when the host announces the doors open. The crowd dissipates, making their way towards what appears to be a genuine ballroom.

Stasia walks lockstep with Mervin, almost shouldering you aside. You’d be offended if you weren’t expecting the treatment. Instead, you trail shyly after them, a step behind Mervin’s other side.

Stasia is already chattering to your date, linking her arm through his.

“You two should catch up! I’ll get drinks while you do.” You lean up to kiss Mervin on the cheek.

Even though you’d discussed and planned PDA with him (that part of the drive had been like pulling nails), he still stiffens at the gesture, blanching a little.

You give him a smile, “Your regular?”

“Fine. And something for yourself.”

You don’t catch the glare Stasia sends you, but others do.

You hasten towards the bar. Nobody stops you, but you suspect it might get harder to navigate the crowd as the night goes on and the guests get more inebriated. Even now you’re subject to stares, and the occasional frown.

The bartender takes your order, thankfully.

You’re watching as it’s made when a demon you don’t recognise sidles up beside you.

“Watch yourself, girl. Last time somebody got between Stasia and her prey it wasn’t pretty.”

You take in the demon (purple hue and the pronged horns) with a glance, before choosing a sympathetic expression. “I appreciate the concern, sir. I can’t help but feel for her, though. Scheduling conflicts are such a pain. Imagine making time for an event, only to find you’re no longer invited.”

The demon watches you critically. You don’t mind. You’ll either come off as naive or conniving, and both are acceptable.

He shrugs. “You’ve been warned.”

“Again,” you say, taking your drinks from the bartender, “thank you.”

Mervin is wearing a strained smile when you return, locked in a conversation with Stasia and two other demons.

He accepts his drink with a nod, and when the conversation next lulls, he introduces you to his companions.

The night continues like this, with Mervin introducing you around, and Stasia growing tense each time he stops to draw attention to you.

She positively writhes if the conversation so much as turns your way, stink eyeing anyone who deigns to ask you where you’re from, what you’re doing in Perdition, what you do for a living.

Over and over you repeat yourself. You’ve been indoors for weeks. You were feeling stir crazy. Mervin was so generous to show you around. Mervin was charitable. Mervin was kind. Stasia was too; you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her actions.

Until she’s red in the face, and not in a pleasant way. You decide to back off, before she erupts like a tea kettle.

The music has since started, and more and more demons are flocking to the dance floor. You look wistfully after them. “It’s a shame I don’t know any of the dances in Pride. Why don’t you two take the first? I could watch and learn.”

The demoness jumps on the opportunity, though conveniently ignoring you. “Come on, Mervin. It’s been months since we danced together. You remember that one time on Earth-” you don’t catch the rest of her reminiscing as she leads Mervin away.

One of the demons you’d been standing with gives you a sympathetic coo. “You’ve been neglected all night, little bird. Why don’t you dance with me?”

You give them an amicable smile. The excuse falls smoothly from your lips. “I’d love to, but I think it’d be rude to my date if I gave my first dance to somebody else. Maybe later?”

The demon tuts. “Why should you be polite to him when he’s having a good time with his ex over there?”

You manage to keep your face relaxed. Obie had called Stasia Mervin’s girlfriend. Had there been some truth to the jest? Still, you manage to shrug, looking towards the dancing pair. They’re locked in a stuffy waltz of some sort.

“Does he look like he’s having a good time?”

The demon blinks, before following your gaze. True to your implications, Mervin is tense. His smile is strained. He looks slightly bored, or even resentful at the way Stasia chatters.

They huff, conceding to your point.

You nail it in anyway. “He can spend the whole gala with her if it pleases him. He’ll still do me the honour of taking me home afterwards.”

Stasia keeps Mervin for not one, but three dances, before he manages to escape her grip and find you. You pass his drink back to him, giving him an amused smile. “Having fun?”

He scowls.

You give your empty glass to a passing staff member before looking back up at Mervin. You’re pretty sure he’s never going to ask you to dance. Not directly. Not even if he wanted to (a surprising number of wallflowers stand testament to Pride’s inability to simply ask for a dance).

You take the initiative instead. “Dance with me?”

He looks almost grateful but doesn’t manage a response other than a mute nod.

He leads you to the floor, and you take his shoulder and hand. The weight of his own at your waist is pleasant. You don’t remember the last time you danced a waltz, but it’s easy enough to slip into, and Mervin leads well.

You want to ask him how you’re doing (you know you’re doing well, and he won’t be able to tell you honestly). You want to ask him how he’s doing (he’s clearly tired and frustrated, and likely won’t take kindly to your prying). You want to ask about Stasia (is she really his ex?). Instead, you dance wordlessly for the next few minutes.

He starts to relax towards the end of the dance, and on a whim, he lifts you during your next turn.

You inhale sharply, before letting out a laugh. He gives a begrudging smile back.

The exchange wheedles some words out of you. “You know, if I’d known the dances were going to be this simple, I might have asked to dance first.”

He raises his brow. “And go against your careful manipulations? How stupid.”

You grin. “Maybe. But I’d still consider it.”

He huffs. “There’ll be a few traditional dances after dinner. I doubt you’ll be able to keep up.”

“Speaking of dinner-” You’re glad you’d questioned Mervin on the drive here. Because of it, you can easily guess what will happen when the dining hall opens. “She’s going to be in my seat.”

He purses his lips. “We’ll get there first.”

You’d discussed the possibility but hadn’t made any explicit plans to deal with it.

“No.”

He cocks a brow. “No?”

“If I sit first, there’s no telling what she’ll do.”

“You have something better in mind?”

You give him a smile, this one less bubbly, and more genuine. “I think we should renegotiate your terms regarding public displays of affection.”

His face scrunches with displeasure. “You think you deserve to touch me without express permission?”

“No. Never,” you butter him up. “But I think she’d hate it if you allowed it.”

He chews his lip, appearing to consider.

You inch closer, intent on enjoying what’s left of your dance. “Don’t worry your pretty head so much, my prince.”

He blinks and opens his mouth to reply. Undoubtedly still wanting to know your solution. Then the rest of what you’d said catches up to him, and he shuts it. He straightens, chest puffing a little.

You try not to smirk. He’s cute sometimes.

The waltz finishes. You give him your last words before parting. “And please don’t push me off.”

Mervin almost stumbles as he understands your request. But before he can protest, the doors to the dining hall are opening, and dinner is due to start. You gesture for Mervin to lead the way.

After a beat he does, and you trail after him. He pauses several times, greeting aquaintances and stopping to chat. Numerous demons still mill about, not quite ready to take their seats.

It’s almost suspicious how Stasia doesn’t intercept you. You’d be worried if you weren’t almost certain of where she was.

Sure enough, when you reach your reserved table, Stasia is seated in your place. She smiles at you, in a way that’s just a little too condescending, but does not otherwise acknowledge you.

“You kept me waiting, sugar plumb.”

You pull out the chair for Mervin, inclining your head respectfully as he takes his seat. Then, without missing a beat, you follow him down, settling on his lap.

He stiffens, but Stasia's expression makes it worth it.

You cover his surprise with a sweet smile. “Sorry to keep him from you, Stasia. I just thought it might be rude if I danced with somebody else before him.”

She stares, face now blank.

After a beat, Mervin’s arm wraps around your side. His claws dig into you, giving away his discomfort. “At any rate, I’m back. Where did we leave off...”

Stasia resumes her chatter, and Mervin makes an effort to engage. The three of you aren’t alone; there are other pairs seated around the circular table, speaking amongst themselves, and occasionally interacting with Mervin and Stasia. You receive several glances, most of which are accompanied by amused grins. Stasia receives a handful of smirks too. You’re not sure who they favour, but at least you’re cause for humour. None of the pride demons are forward enough to ask Mervin why he apparently has two dates.

Nobody looks your way when entrees are brought out. Stasia gets your food. It smells delicious, and your stomach rumbles with envy.

Mervin frowns. “Did my brother not feed you enough?”

You pout up at him. “Humans typically eat three times a day.”

He stares down at you. It’s hard to tell, but you think he’s looking at your lips. Eventually he sighs, and passes you his spoon. “I don’t share with just anyone, pet.”

You beam up at him, placing a kiss on his cheek before he can react. “Thanks babe. You’re literally the best.”

A muscle in his leg twitches, and he has to work to hide his surprise. It almost has you smirking. The fingers digging harder into your side betray his growing tension. You wonder if he’s flustered at the compliment, or irritated at your relaxed demeanour. Perhaps he’s just been touched too much tonight.

There’s a glare fixed on you when you take a sip of the first course. It’s a particularly fragrant soup, served with bread. Unimaginative, but damn if it doesn’t taste amazing.

You lock eyes with Stasia, and smile. “It’s good, right?”

For a moment she doesn’t reply. But after a beat she sneers. “Bland, actually. The chef must have messed up my order.”

“Actually, the order was changed, Stasia,” Mervin interrupts. “We’re being served human safe variants of the menu.”

You blink at the new information. You didn’t realise Mervin had gone to such lengths to accommodate you. It leaves you feeling... nice.

Mervin notices your stare and scowls.

“Of course, Stasia is right. It’s terribly bland compared to the usual fare. But I doubt you could handle our food. Your stomach is far too weak. Pathetic, really.”

You smile at his disparagment. You’re honestly genuine when you praise him next: “You’re too kind, Mervin. I appreciate it.”

He turns his face away with a sneer, ignoring you as you finish the entrée.

You insist that Mervin eats the main course. You assume a greed demon would appreciate your excuses more – you wouldn’t dare take the food from his plate, he’s already been kind enough to you, it’s his meal, he should get to taste it, it’d be rude of you to even think of touching the food before he does – but they do the trick, and Mervin still looks a bit pleased at your fussing.

Dessert passes without incident, and you’re ready to stand and go for a wander. Mervin’s lap isn’t the most comfortable – not while he’s at a dining chair, at the least. The food is cleared and you’re about to get up when another demon at the table ropes Mervin into conversation.

You can’t help but fidget, not sure whether it’d be acceptable if you stood right now. You think you’re being discrete, shifting your weight just a little, but Mervin grabs your thigh and squeezes it, pointedly.

You blush and look down in apology, reigning in your wiggles and acting the picture of relaxed and demure once more.

Instead of releasing you, his hand creeps upwards, along your thigh.

You force yourself not to fidget again at the touch. It had to be unintentional. You hadn’t discussed anything like this ahead of time. Perhaps he didn’t realise how high his fingers were trailing.

You hazard a glance over your shoulder, desperate to see his expression, to gleam his mood.

He grabs your jaw instead, and turns your face forward, before leaning down to murmur at your ear. “Stay there, pet.”

You hadn’t really considered the possibility of Mervin being dominant before. It was always too much fun flustering him with compliments, or making fun of his stunted emotional responses. But you forget that for a moment, enjoying the firmness of his tone.

To your immense frustration, he doesn’t do anything more. Just stroking your thigh, claws tracing the slit upthe side of your dress. It’s almost impossible to keep from squirming, and you watch the crowd critically. You’d be mortified if a concubi wandered by just now.

There’s a cold touch at your wrist. The interruption frustrates you, before you notice Stasia leant forwards. The smile she gives you is unnerving. “Would you mind getting that drink for me now, pet?”

Mervin’s hand stills.

You manage a pleasant expression and a nod. “Of course. And anything for you, Mervin?”

He grimaces. “No. One is enough for me.”

Stasia gives you her order and you remove yourself from the table. With the distance, you’re almost grateful for the interruption. Mervin would be tempting fate, starting something with an audience so close. No doubt Stasia had noticed. You’re just lucky she’d been calm in her redirection.

Your second trip to the bar is a little more perilous. The number of stares you receive is doubled, and one demon has the gall to actually slap you on the ass as you pass.

A glance reveals his reddish hue, and you’d gamble he has wrathful origins. As such, you have no compunction about grabbing the hand that had touched you and twisting his fingers painfully out of place, dodging any further grabs from him.

“Bitch,” he accuses.

You roll your eyes, moving on before he can drag you into a fight, or inspire too much anger in you.

You’re breathless by the time you make it to the bar, and it’s an exercise in your evasive skills to make it back to your table without spilling either of the drinks.

Mervin and Stasia are gone. You’re irritated, but not surprised.

You catch a glance of them dancing in the thick of things. Mervin wasn’t wrong; the music upbeat and fast paced. You don’t know your ballroom music particularly well, but based on their movements, you assume it’s a quicktime dance of some sort. You sit at the table and take the opportunity to watch carefully. You’d love to be able to replicate it by the end of the night.

You’re so focused on analysing your date’s distant footwork that you miss your name being called.

You start at the touch on your shoulder.

Another wrath demon chuckles at you (did everyone bring one as their plus one?).

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You blink. “Not at all.” Then blink again. “Have we met?”

The demon grins, revealing some of his chipped teeth. “Sure have. I probably went to all your shows when you were touring Wrath.”

You raise your brow. You’d never done any meet and greets. So when had-

“We met after your show at the Splatterfest.”

You wince at the memory. Some imps had tried to protest the inclusion of a human at the music festival, and dumped a bucket of blood over your band, ‘Carrie’ style. You’d kept performing and probably given every demon in the audience a boner (you were in Wrath, what did they expect?).

Even so, you grin. “You tried to give me your shirt afterwards. Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

He holds out his hand. “Friends call me Bean.”

You try not to laugh at the name. “Nice to meet you, Bean.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you staring daggers at your date.”

You huff. “I was actually watching the dance. If I’d had any time to prepare for tonight, I’d have bothered to learn some of the dances.”

His face lightens. “I could teach you?”

“Do you know these dances?”

“Too well. My mum is from Pride.”

You’d already danced with Mervin. It might reflect poorly on him if his date looked too antisocial. So you shrug. “Sounds like fun.”

It is fun. You stumble a lot at first, tripping over your own feet in an effort to copy Bean’s step pattern, but he grips you by the elbows, keeping you upright even as he laughs at you. You have stamina, at least, and manage to keep up with the punishing pace. By the time the first dance ends, you’re covered in sweat and panting, but you have some of the footwork down.

Bean grins. “You’re not terrible.”

You crinkle your nose. “You’re sufficient too.”

Bean has his head cocked, listening to the opening of the next song. “Ah. This next one’s fun. It’s got a lot of lifts though.”

“That doesn’t bother me.”

His chipped grin reappears. “We take turns raising each other.”

Oh. You bite back a frown. “How much do you weigh?”

Bean isn’t that big. His horns and tail are on the small side, and he’s only an inch or so taller than you. Still, the number he tells you does not fill you with confidence.

He laughs at your expression. “Scared? Or just weak?”

You scowl. “Weak, unfortunately. May I?” You ask before touching him.

He lifts his arms enough for you to grab him by the waist. You brace yourself and lift.

His heels leave the ground.

He laughs at you again. “Cute. But mostly pathetic.”

You scowl harder. “Whatever. If you want to keep dancing, you’ll have to jump a little.”

His laughing quiets to a chuckle. He takes your hand and pulls you in to dance. “It’s alright. We’ll manage. This one is... well I’m not sure of the translation. It’s a genre unique to Perdition. I guess you could liken it to a quick waltz? There are several lifts in each of the refrains. Then towards the end we start spinning, taking turns with the elevations. It’s easier with the momentum, but you’ve gotta watch your surroundings too, or you’ll crash into another couple.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. You’re not too worried about bumping into anyone. Your spatial awareness is decent enough. “I feel like this dance is just so everyone can flex at each other.”

Bean laughs again, though not at you this time. “No, you’re completely right. It's how this genre was started. It’s a competition of strength and stamina. It’s not actually that common in Pride, since it usually tends to lack finesse or grace.”

“Hmm,” you appreciate the history lesson.

You ease into this dance smoothly; despite the lifts it’s easier than the last. Bean is a good teacher, and he warns you ahead of any changes. You brace yourself for the first rise, and when your feet leave the ground by almost a foot, you can’t help but grin.

“Show off.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees.

His feet actually leave the ground when it’s your turn to lift. Bean springs up a few inches, turning the elevation into something closer to an assisted jump. Regardless of the terminology, you’re grateful for the assistance. It sets the tone for the rest of the dance, and you find yourself having a pleasant time.

Your dress flairs when you’re next lifted, and Bean gives you a grin. “Is that a knife, or are you happy to see me?”

You’re breathless, but manage to reply. “A knife, actually.”

He eyes your legs appreciatively. “Expecting trouble?”

“Most of my weapon belts would clash with this dress,” you joke.

“Nonsense. You’d look good with any weapon,” he argues.

You can’t help but smile. “You sure know how to lay on the charm.”

“Pfft, this is nothing. You should see me when I’m actually trying.”

You’d laugh but there’s another series of spins coming up, and you have to brace yourself of them. The recapitulation begins, and you know the dance is nearing its end.

“Steady now,” Bean encourages, before raising you again.

You’re able to keep spinning. To avoid any collisions. To lift him the first few times. But your arms quickly tire, and Bean doesn’t do much more than bob his knees instead of completing any jumps. He still manages to send you upwards on each of your turns though, and you have to reign in your laughter.

Especially as you make eye contact with Mervin, dancing with Stasia beside you.

It jars you enough that your grin fades, and you remember to school your expression into something a little more dignified. Slightly less carefree.

The song ends and you and Bean nearly collapse against each other, panting and laughing once more, even if you’re feeling subdued.

You realise your face is only inches from his, at the same time he does.

He glances down at your lips. “Do you... want to take this elsewhere?”

Any other night and you’d take him up on the offer. But-

“I think that’d give my date a conniption.”

His smile shrinks. Bean pulls back. But he maintains that relaxed demeanour. “It’d serve him right for leaving you here alone.”

You shrug and give him an apologetic smile. “Another time?”

He sighs. Ruffles your hair.

You scowl and duck out of his grasp.

“Can you imagine his face though?”

You bite back your grin. “I can.”

Bean steps away. “Thanks for the dance, love.”

You wave him off. Take a breath to compose yourself. Then turn back to the gala.

---

It doesn’t take long for you to find your date. Not with the way he’s striding towards you, shoulders squared and a scowl on his face. He grabs you by the wrist and leads you out a nearby door, practically dragging you down some unpopulated corridors.

“Where’s Stasia?” You ask.

“I cut her off when she started trying to make me jealous of that shit-for-brains dance partner of yours.”

You’d only danced with Bean twice. Was Mervin really so bothered?

“Key word ‘trying’?” You ask, tentative this time.

He doesn’t reply, but it’s obvious he’s not happy.

You wince. Stasia’s meddling or not, this one was genuinely your fault. “I’m sorry, Mervin. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way.”

“I know,” he grumbles, before practically flinging you at a wall. “But you still need to deal with the consequences, human.”

Then his hand is on your jaw, holding you still as he crushes his lips against yours.

You freeze, more surprised than upset.

His other hand rests against the wall, caging you in. He doesn’t meet your eyes when he pulls back, still scowling. “How dare you ask a stranger to teach you to dance. You should have gone to me.”

You’re still processing the kiss. Part of you is indignant – you never thought he’d work up the nerve to kiss you first. The other part of you struggles to stay grounded. To listen to his complaint. “I’m sorry, I-”

He cuts you off with another kiss. Bites down hard on your lip this time. You think you taste blood.

“You should consider yourself lucky that I’m still willing to associate with you. That I’m willing to do this.”

Your head spins when he pushes your face sideways, gaining access to your throat. He kisses his way down your neck, across your shoulder. Not shy about using his teeth to punish you.

His other hand slips below your dress. He grips the hem of your underwear and your breath hitches. As much as you enjoy leading him along, you could get used to this. Mervin's display of dominance is doing things for you.

“I’m lowering my standards so much just to do this with you. So, you’d better hold fucking still.”

Your mouth waters at his words. You’re somehow both burning with tension and turning into putty under his hands. And you know just what to say to make things worse.

“Yes sir.”

He stiffens. “What was that?”

You have to bite back your grin, to force yourself to appear contrite. “Yes sir?”

“Fuck,” he mutters before grabbing you bodily and turning you around. Your hands splay against the wall, bracing yourself. Mervin presses between your shoulder blades, bending you over while his other hand drags your dress up.

The position sends nerves and excitement through you in equal measures. “Somebody could see.”

He ignores your half-hearted protest, dragging your underwear down and palming your ass. “You didn’t care if somebody saw you flirting with that meathead.”

Facing away, you can let your grin creep out. He sounds angry.

His knee spreads your legs and your heart speeds up. Then there’re fingers at your folds. You can practically hear his sneer when they come away wet.

“Pathetic. Is this really all it takes to get you going?”

“Mhm,” you hum agreement, throat tight. Coherency is starting to leave you when all you can focus on is the cold air against your nethers. You wish he would touch you again.

He scoffs. “You really are just a slut.”

You think you get wetter at the insult.

There’s the sound of a belt buckle, then a zipper. You can’t help but clench in anticipation.

But Mervin doesn’t touch you.

You try to look over your shoulder, to give Mervin your most I’m-pathetic-please-fuck-me stare, but he just pushes your face against the wall.

You let out a whimper and squirm. If he keeps drawing this out, somebody really could see you.

You push the thought down. As enticing as it is, things could quickly turn dangerous if a third party got involved.

“-you think I’ll do this with anyone? What makes you think you deserve me, huh?” he starts.

Honestly, you thought he’d start talking himself up sooner. He’d barely insulted you yet.

“-don’t deserve a single piece of pleasure until you earn it-”

You try rubbing your thighs together, but you only succeed on clamping around Mervin’s knee.

“-should be singing my praise, I shouldn’t have to touch you until you’ve begged for me-”

You let out a groan. If you were still facing him, you’d snog him just to make him stop talking. “Ughh, shut up and fuck me.”

He grips you by the hair, his voice raised in pitch, “The nerve of you, human, the utter disrespect-”

You cut him off with a whine, “Pleeease Mervin. I need you to fuck me.”

His breathing stutters.

“Please touch me, please, I can’t wait any more, pleasepleaseplease,” you squirm around his knee.

He grabs your ass again. Squeezes. “You’ve been so casual with my name tonight. I don’t think you deserve to use it.”

You want to groan again. You barely restrain yourself. “Please, sir, I bet you’ll feel so good, please, I need this so badly-”

His breathing is even more laboured, but he still manages to slap your ass.

“Needy.”

You flinch away, and end up grinding down against his knee – fuck. It’s not fair how good that feels. You decide that if he doesn’t fuck you soon, you’ll just have to rub off against his leg. Though you might leave a wet patch so noticable that concubi wouldn’t be the only ones turning heads.

You bite down on your lip. You just want to get dicked down. Picking your words is hard when you’re this horny.

“Needy,” you huff. “Yes. For you.” You grind against him. “Please help me, sir. Please fix it.”

He shudders. The hand at your shoulders pushes harder, and you have no choice but to stick your ass out, curving your back as far as it will go, or topple over.

“Fine,” he says, and you could die from relief when you feel his erection against your ass. “But only because I feel sorry for you.”

He hilts himself in one rough movement and you moan, practically high at the sensation. There’s possibly a bit of drool escaping from your lips.

Mervin’s not unaffected himself, one hand braced against the wall, the other digging into your waist. The groan he levels at your ear is delightful, stretching on into a softly pitched rumble that’s almost like a purr.

Interesting. A disembodied part of yourself definitely notes that for later.

He doesn’t move.

You let out a whimper, trying to grind back against him. He swats you on the ass, tuting. “Ask nicely, pet.”

Having him speared inside you feels so good. But it’s not enough. You need him to move.

“Please,” you whisper, “please fucking fuck me, please-”

You’re rewarded with a single thrust. “Why should I?”

You groan; a whiney, needy sound. “You’re making it so hard to think right now- I can’t-” You want to bang your head against wall. “Nngh, Mervin-”

He takes pity on you. Or maybe you’ve convinced him. He’s probably barely pretending to be composed right now - you don’t care about the reasoning, you’re just relieved when he starts to fuck you. He’s fast, and rough, and the ridged texture of his cock serves as a pleasant reminder that he’s in no part human.

It doesn’t take long for him to come, practically crushing you against him when he does. One arm wraps around your throat, and the other around your waist; he bites down on your shoulder to keep from making too much noise. It hurts, but that only adds to the experience.

You close your eyes, panting, trying to savour the way his dick twitches inside of you. But as soon as he’s finished he straightens, practically shoving you away.

Your brain is hazy, and it takes you a few moments before you can stand, fixing your underwear, then your dress. You clamp your thighs together, to keep from dripping spend everywhere.

By the time you turn around, Mervin has composed himself – cock receeded back into his slit, clothing fixed. You feel incredibly raw in contrast.

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

You open your mouth to reply, but your thoughts stall. Forming words is somehow harder.

His face goes blank as he takes in your details. Processes what’s wrong. The seconds that pass feel incredibly long, and you’re tense, wondering how he’s going to react. You know that biology literally compels him to be an ass, but you’re not sure how much derision you can take right now.

You can’t describe how grateful you are that he only shakes his head, and cages you in again. “Like I said before. This is only because I feel sorry for you.”

He slips his hand under your dress, back into your underwear. You’re slick; a mess of your own juices and his cum. There’s no resistance when he sinks two fingers inside of you. Hardly any friction when he rubs his thumb against your clit.

You shudder, grabbing his lapels and pressing your face against his shoulder. “Fuckkk,” the word is barely muffled.

His free hand cups your jaw, dragging your face upwards. “Don’t get makeup on my jacket, idiot.”

“S-sorry,” you reply, eyes glazed and mouth agape.

He doesn’t seem to process your apology, watching intently, instead, as you come apart on his fingers. You can barely stand, fighting the impulse to sieze and crumple, clinging to your date like he’s a lifeline.

“Go on then, pet,” he murmurs, pushing hard against a sensitive spot inside of you. “You can come.”

And you do. Head lolling back, whole body arching, gripping Mervin’s arm like a vice. You don’t care what kind of noises you’re making, but perhaps he does, because he covers your mouth with his own in another messy kiss.

His fingers don’t stop moving until you’re limp against the wall, almost turning into a puddle in his arms. Your head buzzes. You feel high.

Fuck, that was incredible.

Your eyes are closed. You’re listening to Mervin’s panting; almost as loud as your own, when he pulls you upright suddenly.

“Someone’s coming.”

Your eyes spring open.

“Come on,” he practically drags you away, down another corridor and into what appears to be a coat room.

You’re still breathless, and it takes you a moment to compose yourself. Mervin has his ear against the door, tense. It almost makes you laugh.

“If I’d known how much fun pity sex can be, I’d have doubled down on my efforts to be pathetic.”

Mervin scowls. “Clean yourself up. You look like a whore.”

You give him a coy smile. “Your whore, though.”

He turns away, masking his expression.

Still, you do the best you can to clean the fluids from your thighs, shamelessly using the sleeve of a stranger’s coat.

Mervin is examining you when you turn back. Wordlessly he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. “Your lipstick is everywhere.”

You smirk, taking in his own features. “It certainly is.” You wipe it from your face, wishing you had a mirror, but Mervin doesn’t say anything so you assume you got it all. Then you stand on tip toes, cleaning the lipstick from his own face. He stiffens, but allows the treatment.

Your eyes catch on a smear across his throat. You don’t even remember kissing him there. Feeling mischevious, you leave the mark. You consider it a parting gift. He’ll notice it later, you’re sure.

“Your hair is a rat’s nest.”

You’re sure he’s exaggerating, but you roll your eyes and attempt to fix it anyway. “You’re the one who was pulling on it.”

Soon enough you’re both presentable again, bracing yourselves before returning to the fray. Nobody has noticed your absence, you think.

You glance towards the dance floor. “So, are you going to teach me this next dance?”

He manages to keep his expression level as he considers.

“Not here. Having you trip and stumble in front of everyone is too painful to contemplate. You’re going to take private lessons with me. That way you won’t look like a fool next time.”

“Next time?” You ask.

He winces, unable to meet your eyes.

You want to make fun of him. You want to poke at him so badly. You barely restrain yourself.

“How generous of you, to invite me not once, but twice. I should be honoured.”

He relaxes minutely at your acceptance. Then crinkles his nose. “Obviously.”

“But this was simultaneously the most stressful and most boring event I’ve attended all year. You’re really going to have to make it worth my while.”

He grits his teeth. Tries his best to look calm. “Did you have something in mind, human?”

You can only grin. “I don’t know. I’ll be sure to think of an especially pitiful request.”

#vaya writes #oh my god this was something #this was so so so fun to write and then horrifying to edit #can you believe editing the smut took me #checks watch #like half an hour #but editing the dance scenes took me like a day and a half #can you tell that i know more about one than the other #fuckkk never again writing a dance scene #anyway #monsterfucking #monster boyfriend #standard tag despite them not actually dating #this is a prequel to movie night in case somebody was wondering #monster romance

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