#the smiling just amplifies this i’ve been thinking about this all day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamjaemin · 5 months

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꒰ "Be brave, Angel" ꒱ 彡 ♡ ⋆｡˚ (m.l and h.l)

summary:you want your first tattoo. but are you ready to deal with who will do this to you?

Word count: 6k!

Pairing: tattooartist!mark × tattooartist!haechan × f!reader

Content: fuckboy!mark/haechan, slutty!reader, Praising, petnames(good girl, princess, ect), friends with benefits,teasing ,threesome, double penetration (pussy and ass), ass and pussy spanking, unprotected sex,creampie ,no mention of aftercare :( , lmk if i miss any.

A/n:This is based on the poll I posted before I know y’all voted the most for mark but some besties wants them both like I don't blame them bc I'm down bad for this two. I'm literally busy but yeah here it is I hope you like it, thanks for your time bestie, enjoy♡.

the soft tinkling of bells rang out as you opened the studio door, but your nerves were so sensitive that you flinched as if the sound had been amplified by large speakers. The frigid air inside the studio ruffled the hairs on your arms and you pulled your cardigan tighter around you, immediately recognizing the soft music playing in the background.

If this was a visit like one of the other times you’ve been here with your friends, for company and support in getting their tattoos and piercings, then you would have been able to once again admire the modern decor and beautiful artwork hangs on the walls - all strategically placed to catch the attention and arouse the interest of clients.

But this was no ordinary visit. For once you weren’t here for your friends. You were here for yourself.

No one but you and Johnny knew of your intention to get your first tattoo and you didn’t want to change that, wanting to surprise your friends since they had been encouraging you to get it for years.

That was weeks ago, and frankly, you’d almost forgotten that you’d expressed that wish to Johnny. At least until you got a message from him, asking you to come down to the studio as soon as possible to see the finished artwork that he would use as a base to finally get your tattoo done. You weren’t nervous until that moment.

But when the possibility of getting a tattoo stopped being a ‘possibility’ and became a matter of 'when’, you started to regret your own decision.

It’s been three days since you received the message and only today did you pluck up the courage to come to the studio.

But judging by the way your hands were cold and clammy you didn’t think you had mustered enough courage.

Swallowing down the nerves you took a deep breath and looked towards the reception desk, but there was no one there.

Oh.

You are completely alone.

That means there’s still time to turn around and walk out the same door you just came through, right? Yes right. It would be the perfect excuse.

“Well, at least I tried.” You said softly, already turning towards the exit.

“Y/N?” The melodious sound of Haechan’s voice interrupted your hurried steps, and you squeaked through your teeth, knowing it would be very difficult to escape now.

“Y/N! Wait, what are you doing here? Are you expecting one of your friends?” He asked already walking towards you, not noticing - or choosing to ignore - the tense expression on your face, choosing to hold his arms out to you in an invitation to hug.

“Hi, Hyuck. Uh, not really, not exactly…” You replied, accepting his warm hug. When he let go and looked at you questioningly, you sighed.

“I’m here because Johnny said he finished the artwork I asked him to create. I’ve been talking to him about getting a tattoo.” The last part you said in a whisper.

“Really?” He smiled brightly in response and added,“if that’s what you really want, you can bet it’ll all be worth it when the job is done.”You brightened up a bit, nodding slowly and offering him a gentle smile, silently grateful for his support.

The nervous knot in your stomach felt a little less dull thanks to hyuck's sweet words.“But I’m afraid unfortunately we can’t do that today, dear.” He said in an apologetic tone, looking disappointed in himself.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head in confusion, waiting for his next words.

“Johnny isn’t even here. Today he went to a family meeting, as we’re near to closing time for the studio, he’s already left.”

Closing time?You looked up at the clock on the wall, blushing and stuttering an embarrassed response when you saw that he was right, the hand almost reaching the closing time mark for the studio.

You squealed with your hands over your mouth.“Oh my God! I’m sorry. I didn’t even pay attention to the time. I should have checked the time before coming.”

Damn, it was just like you to be embarrassed like that.

“Hey, no need to apologize, if i know where's the artwork I would have done it myself. I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t mind staying after hours to see you, but he really can’t miss this meeting.”

“D-don’t worry about it, really. I’ll come back another day, it’s no problem to-”

“I’ll attend her.”

You both looked at the source of that voice, both of you surprised by the sudden appearance of someone else in the room.

There, casually leaning against the doorframe, taboo clutched between the long fingers of one hand, the other comfortably tucked into his pants pocket, was mark lee.

His body was covered in black clothes as usual. Combat boots and jeans, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the numerous tattoos on his arms.

“Oh, mark, this is Y/N, she’s the client of-”

“I know who she is. I said I’ll attend her, the art is in my office along with the others.”

The abrupt cut left your cheeks red and you looked away at the man beside you, leaving them to stare at each other in the tense silence afterwards.

You were about to say that you didn’t need him to attend to you, but Haechan spoke first.

“That would be amazing”

You heard Mark breathe a little bit heavily, the sound piquing your curiosity until you looked up at him, seeing that his gaze had now fallen on you – disturbingly bored and somehow still so intense.

He keeps looking at you like he’s sizing you up with that sleepy look; like he’s trying to understand you just by the way you’re standing there next to his friend and your friend bc you talked with hyuck comfortably so many times but mark...you didn’t have the chance.

The man before you doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that you’ll find his obvious inspection impolite.

No, instead he just stares you down from head to toe completely, undisguised and not saying a word as he does it twice. By God, twice!You always felt like there was a suffocating tension surrounding the two of you, even though you haven’t exchanged a single word with each other in the months you’ve been in the studio with your girls.

You always told yourself that it was all in your head, but when he looked at you like that it was almost impossible to control your own thoughts.

With a shudder you break your gaze and fix your attention on Haechan again.

“No, don’t worry about it. I can come back another day, I really don’t want to disturb anything.” You said pulling away, but Haechan’s grip on your hand didn’t allow you to go very far.

“Wait. Mark is an amazing professional and I don’t think there could be anyone better than him to get your first tattoo, not even Johnny.”You fought back the urge to say that you had serious doubts about that, especially given the look of sheer boredom on the man’s face and all that awkwardness surrounding the two of you.

He didn’t seem like someone capable of offering emotional support and allaying your fears.

“Fine. Lock the door when you leave.” He set the tone for the end of the conversation before you could argue, but you heard hyuck whispering to mark before he turn and head back inside "leave? take care of her until i comeback" giving him a playful wink.

“you, follow me.” You watched his broad back disappear from view, then turned your eyes to Haechan, smirking at you like he knows you were scared to get your first tattoo. His joy was so intense that you didn’t have the heart to say the things you were thinking, instead offering a forced smile and a gentle hug before walking away to follow his friend.

“see you” You waved at him stepping into the hallway that led to the tattoo and piercing procedures.

"I'll join you soon baby" haechan whispered to himself.

You didn’t know how to react around him and you were afraid it was obvious from the almost robotic way you followed him.

Even on your other visits to the studio, you hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in the man’s presence. Always mysterious and elusive, you noticed over the course of visits that he preferred to work in the back, creating fine art for inspiration and serving specific clients by appointment directly with him. And the few times you saw him it was always the same awkwardness as usual, the same disturbingly intense stares and a total of zero verbal interaction.

He just slowly cooked you up in an excess of visual intensity and then was gone.And now he said he would get your tattoo.God, you didn’t think you could be more nervous than you are right now.

Mark doesn’t say anything to you as he places the book on top of a small table in the corner, heading over to the alcohol spray bottle and disposable wipes, using both to sanitize the black leather high recliner chair you’ll be sitting in for the next few hours. You just watch him, nudging the toe of your sneakers into the other as a distraction as you wrap the cardigan more tightly around your body.

When he’s finished sanitizing the chair you understand it’s your cue and, sucking in a deep breath, you push your legs to move to the padded chair, your body feeling like heavy lead as you just imagine the pain that will come from shoving a needle in your skin. You settle into the chair, hands clasped on your thighs and body taut as a bow, staring at mark’s work like a frightened hawk. If he had noticed how nervous you were - and you really think it would be hard for anyone not to - he said nothing about it, opting to continue his preparation silently.

His moves are practiced, probably memorized after so much time working at it, and he barely looks at you, completely focused on his little world. The only time he stopped what he was doing and gave you any attention was to hand you a clipboard.

“Before we get started I need you to read and sign this if you agree to the terms.”You nod and he immediately goes back to what he was doing, leaving you alone to read through paragraph after paragraph of the studio’s consent and disclaimer if the job doesn’t turn out exactly the way you wanted it to.

You found it really hard not to approve the final work, given what you already knew about the team and their perfect artwork. But you found such terms understandable and necessary, as working with the public could be challenging at times.

You’ve read the document almost through when a sound of packages opening catches your attention and you look away to the man in front of you. None of your friends had done any procedures with mark, despite their many efforts and attempts to make an appointment, but here you were, waiting for him to finish preparing the materials to get your tattoo done. You couldn’t believe it.

He was attractive in a way that would make a woman swoon. His eyebrows were full and his ears were decorated with a variety of piercings and when he turns to grab something from the top shelf you find yourself fighting an appreciative sigh as you get a clear view of his profile, everything about him was appealing.the sight causes the already visible blush on your face to deepen to an even more embarrassing degree.

The sound of a new song starting up snaps you out of your reverie and you stare awkwardly at the clipboard in your hands, deciding that you definitely assent to all the terms and quickly signing your name at the bottom - your handwriting not as graceful as usual, due to the way your hand is slightly shaking.You hand him the clipboard and he places it on the table next to other documents, turning his attention to the materials.

You see him sort out alcohol, wipes, packets of disposable needles, and a small container of ink, all neatly arranged in a straight line on a tray that he brings over to the leather chair you’re sitting in. He sets it down on the side table, along with the pistol and stencil he would use as a base for your art, pulling a stool on wheels next to your chair.

“The tattoo will be in the rib area, right? Under the breast.” He asked quietly, sitting down on the stool. You looked at him curiously through your lashes, surprised that he already knew the location of your tattoo.

“Y-yes, how do you know?”

“johnny told me.” That’s all he told you about it and, surprisingly, that’s all you needed to understand. “Alright. I need you to take your shirt off.”

He says without looking you in the eye, unflappable and confident, putting the pair of black gloves on his hands with a final snap that only served to make you even more agitated.

While you logically knew that you would need to go topless for this particular tattoo, there was an extra nervousness about doing it in front of him. And you knew it was because it was him, because that self-conscious nervousness wasn’t there at the time when you thought johnny would be doing the procedure.

But there was no choice, and besides, he wasn’t being anything but professional with you. Surely he’s seen a lot more exposed skin than that during procedures.

With a sigh of courage and decidedly rosy cheeks, you pulled the cardigan from your body, quickly doing the same with the light shirt you wore underneath, tucking both into your backpack.

You bite your lip and rub your hands on your thighs, focusing on feeling the material of your skirt against your skin in an attempt to calm yourself down. But your efforts go down the drain when he looks up at you, that disinterested, half-lidded look opening for the briefest of seconds as he looks down at your black push-up bra hugging your breasts. You nearly choke on your saliva because, by God, for two seconds you’re sure a purely appreciative look danced across that bored expression of his.

But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

“Lie down please so I can sanitize the area.” He grumbled letting the disposable mask rest on his chin, and amidst your mental daze you wonder if he only has black items to use.

You comply, lying back on the soft leather, looking up at the ceiling. You almost jump at the feel of the icy liquid on your skin, instantly shivering at the sensation. The smell of antiseptic hits your nose and you try to breathe more slowly, feeling the circular movements of cotton on your sensitive skin.

“I’ll paste the stencil now.”

As you watched, his fingers smoothed over the stencil, the dark outline showing against your skin. He slowly removes the paper and your gaze strays momentarily to his mouth, his lush lips catching your attention as he nibbles on his lower lip in concentration. You blush and look away quickly, afraid of being caught. It takes a moment for you to realize he’s talking when you turn your attention and notice his lips moving.

“See if you like the position and design. Don’t hesitate to say if you don’t like something, the time for changes is now.” He says it more seriously than any of the times he’s addressed you tonight (which hasn’t been many), voice low and direct, wanting you to understand the importance of this moment.

You swallow and accept the round mirror he hands you, positioning it so you can see the art. Your lips part immediately.

“Oh.”

The delicate butterflies and hearts stretches across your rib cage, just below your breast, rising just a little up the side. The way the design undulates naturally, as if a particular breeze is constantly on your skin, gently shaking your tattoo. You find yourself smiling at the beauty and elegance of the art. It wasn’t a large or very ornate tattoo; you were absolutely sure that mark had already done tattoos infinite times more complex than this one. But it was beautiful. Beautiful in an undeniable way, an art made obviously by gentle and skilled hands.

“It’s…it’s beautiful. I love it.” You say quietly, still turning the mirror to observe the design from all angles, a soft smile on your lips.

Mark didn’t respond immediately and you looked away from the mirror to see the cause of the silence. You felt your smile lessen at the way he was looking at you, specifically at your lips. That realization brought butterflies to your stomach, your cheeks flushing again. He didn’t speak up when he realized you’d caught his gaze, eyes rising to look at your flushed cheeks, then locking into your slightly widened eyes.

“Hmm, can we get started then?” He questioned quietly, still looking at you in that disturbing way, pulling the mask to cover the lower half of the face.

“Y-yes, please.” You said, handing the mirror back to him with trembling fingers. Even with the mask on you heard the amused snort and couldn’t help but feel even more embarrassed. The laugh itself was low and silent, just above a rumbling, guttural breath. It made you feel silly and childish.

Great, now he thought you were an idiot.

“This is a pretty sensitive area, so it might be uncomfortable. I need you to take a deep breath for me. I’ll start with a simple line and you tell me how your pain tolerance is, okay?”

You stiffen but nod, doing as he asks. He grunts a little, satisfied with your compliance, but you barely hear it over the now-screeching sound of the pistol.

“Here we go.”

You bite your bottom lip hard with the initial sting. It hurts. It’s not uncomfortable as he mentioned earlier. It’s painful, really painful. Your small hands curl into fists on the chair and you struggle to breathe slowly, trying to focus on that instead of the stinging pain in your skin. He goes on with the simplest strokes for a few minutes and you’re rigid as a rock during the whole process.

“Hey, you’re okay?”

He pulls the needle away from your skin for a few seconds and you take the opportunity to sigh in relief, refusing to open your eyes because you know they’re teary and you definitely don’t want him to think you’re a crybaby.

“Y-yes, fine, you can continue.” You respond, praying your statement sounds confident enough for him to believe it and continue.

But he doesn’t continue.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head slightly, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/N, open your eyes for me.” He orders harder, the fingers that are still flat on your stomach pressing your skin a little to get your attention.

Having him say your name that way makes you gasp softly, obeying what he says after a deep breath.

As you knew, the act of opening your eyes causes the accumulated tears to fall, streaming down the sides of your face. You sniff and blush harder, feeling the weight of his gaze on you - so intensely dark, like the sky in a quite night.

“It’s okay to cry. This is a pretty sensitive area and, after all, it’s your first tattoo.” Despite the look of boredom, his words are spoken in a reassuring, deep tone that immediately works to quell the worst of your nervousness.

You nod and wipe the tears with your fingers. He waits for you to calm down as he draws slow circles on the skin of your stomach, and despite the fact that you’re pretty sure this gesture isn’t entirely professional, you still feel better about his patience. You’re honestly surprised by this, as his overall expression suggested nothing but utter disinterest. But you accepts the kindness with open arms.

Suddenly the door opened slowly and it's hyuck, his gaze never leaving your face as he start clicking his tongue teasingly before he said “my little girl crying?”

“Can we try again?” mark said looking back at you.

This time you nod more confidently, a small smile on your tearful face and it’s convincing enough that he accepts with a satisfied grunt.

Hyuck gets closer to you and brush his hand softly on your cheek calming you down, neither his words or gestures seems just friendly but you didn't have time to focus on that when all you can feel is pain.

The pistol buzz returns and you make an effort to be more relaxed this time, humming softly to the music playing through the speakers.

“Do you like this song?” he asks casually and you jump an inch as you feel the needle again in your skin, the pain returning as before. But you try to focus on his question.

“Yes, very much.” You say with some difficulty, but glad you have something you can use as a distraction while he continues tracing the painful lines on your skin. The needle scratching your skin in a more sensitive part now, if that was possible, and you squeal a whimper. Mark looks up at you and you smile weakly, waving to say that everything was fine.

Haechan bite his lower lip softly at your words feeling his cock twitching from how hard he is seeing you like that but after some time he decided to complete tatting you to forget about it and that's how they exchanged roles.

He hums thoughtfully and then is silent, long enough for you to think he’s not going to say anything else. But then he speaks.

“Ready, princess?”

You blush at the nickname, but try not to imagine too much. "Yes I'm ready" you breathed.

“That’s my girl,” he turns to your ribs as you try your best not to feel dizzy - whether it was from the object currently stabbing your skin or the words that had just come out of hyuck’s mouth, you didn’t know.

He swallows thoughtfully, the movement making his Adam’s apple rise and fall, immediately drawing your attention to his neck.

You shyly bite your lip as you stare at the tattoos visible across his skin; the striking features of a butterfly right in the center of his throat, the lush wings spread out to either side. A single rose in the space just behind his studded ear. The top of a dragon’s head peeking through the collar of his black shirt, indicating a larger tattoo spread across his back and biceps.

You swallowed hard.

“Hm, do you like my tattoos that much?.” He asked after a while of silence, pulling back a little to look at your tattoo from a different angle, pulling you out of your thoughts. Long fingers gripping your ribcage area firmly, but gently massaging every now and then, making your mission to ignore the signals more difficult by the second.

And so you two go on for a little over one hour, the excruciatingly long time it takes for your tattoo to be done. You cry sometimes and wince at others, but haechan is patient and so as mark who was sitting across from him watching his work more likely watching you.

Of course, you try to remember that they are professionals and that they probably do this for his other clients. But it’s hard not to feel special when they're so nice.

Sometimes you feel hyuck's fingers caressing your skin in a way that you suspect is beyond what a professional needs to do, and yet you struggle to mask your emotions. It becomes particularly difficult when he asks you to pull up your lower bra line a bit so he can finish off the tattoo. Of course, you don’t lift the fabric completely or anything, but the bottom half of your breast is visible and that’s more than enough to make you hyper-aware. And it only gets worse when you feel his gentle touch on the side of your breast, a series of goosebumps erupt over the area, the length of your face down to your collarbone turning red with the embarrassing reaction. It’s absolutely mortifying and you try to cover your embarrassment with a strained laugh, saying the air conditioning was making you cold.

It sounds too ridiculous to be taken seriously, but haechan push it, his dark gaze is dancing with amusement and interest. "Oh i know you liked it, princess"

“i-...You finished?” You ask when he turns off the pistol buzz, placing the object on the tray, throwing the disposable items in the adjacent bin along with the gloves and mask. He stands with his hands up, stretching his muscles tired from being in the same position for so long. You try not to visibly drool at the sight of the muscles in his arms stretched out like that.

“Yes. Do you want help getting up?” he looked back at you, his smirk growing bigger just like what's between his legs.

Yes, you did. In fact, you wanted him to do more than just help you up. But of course you didn’t say that.

“No, that’s fine. I can do it, thanks.”

Despite this, you have trouble getting up. And the fact that he’s watching your every move like an eagle doesn’t help matters. Your tattoo area hurts like a bitch and your body looks like it took a beating, but now you couldn’t take back what you said, it was a matter of pride. Then with delicacy and patience you drag yourself across the chair, avoiding putting weight on the most painful areas. It takes longer than you’d like, but eventually you’re on your feet.

Mark has one eyebrow arched and a half smile on his lips, but mercifully doesn’t comment on what just happened.

“Here, want to take a look?” the younger one asks, nodding towards the full-length mirror on the wall.

“Yes yes!” You responded excitedly, looking forward to seeing the job done.

“Wow, it’s so…so beautiful!” You admire the artistry on your skin, now more vivid and expressive than before. Lips clamped between teeth, nearly jumping with glee at the result. The detailing is elegant and beautiful. It’s even better than the sketch they have drawn.

Your skin throbbed and burned, but you couldn’t be more pleased. The reflection in the mirror is just perfect. “Johnny is an amazing artist I swear, he’s amazing.”

Haechan seems to think about what you say, but the way his brows are slightly furrowed tells you he’s still confused. Hearts fluttering in your eyes as you look away from the mirror at the silent man beside you. But mark on the other side is quiet, deathly quiet.

You’re so nervous that you’ve offended them that you feel your body almost shaking where you’re standing. But then he slowly approaches, standing behind you in the mirror, staring intently at the overview of his work now permanently imprinted on your skin with a thoughtful hum.

“It looks really good on you, princess.” He says from behind you, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of cigarettes and mint gum, and something woody like sandalwood. A scent so intoxicatingly masculine it almost makes your head spin. He's literally behind you pressing on your ass and you’re still only in a bra and thigh-length pleated skirt.

Sweet hell.

You open your lips to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other in the mirror, neither of you knowing how to act.

God, he feels it too, right? That tension around the two of you?

It is haechan who breaks the silence, apparently more in tune with his feelings than you are.

“Okay, let me clean this up.“

You’re feeling shaky from your recent interaction, but you nod quickly, watching as he cleans your skin. The cold water soothing the tattoo burn.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do, now that mark is standing close to you too saying nothing, just staring at you in that disturbing way.

For a solid minute, maybe two, he still doesn’t say anything. The look he pinned you with made breathing very difficult but then he finally parts his lips to say something, and you allow yourself to exhale expectantly.

"It wasn’t Johnny who made the art.”

Mark’s deep tone rang like molten gold, clearly knowing he was too close for things to be considered platonic at this point – though it didn’t seem like he minded too much. No, whatever is going on between the three of you is coming to a head right now. You can feel it in your bones.

“E-excuse me?” You blink rapidly, feeling your senses go dangerously numb at his approach, he lied to you.

“I said…” He says more slowly, tilting his head letting the attraction that now seemed mutual run through your veins. “That it wasn’t Johnny who designed your tattoo art, princess.”

He keeps looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. Disturbingly intense. You try and can’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such obvious desire. The sexual tension rapidly rising.

His long fingers glide along your jaw, tracing the shape, caressing your cheekbones. You don’t entertain the illusion that he can’t hear the rapidity of your breathing, perhaps even the rapid pulse under your flushed skin.

You looked to your right and realize that haechan already cleaned everything and he's staring down at you smirking before he whispered in your ear "Every time you visit the studio I wonder what it would be like if we are more close. What it would be like to have friends with benefits...with a pretty little thing like you"

You swallow the choking lump in your throat, lips parted on a shuddering sigh. It’s palpable that something big is coming and you don’t know if you can handle the rest of what he has to say. Still, you want to hear him say it. You wants him to tell you the things that make your stomach flutter and your toes curl. You want it so bad.

“I want to ruin your pussy, fuck you until your throat hurts from screaming. I want to make you cum with my cock, my mouth and my fingers. I want to lick every damn inch of you.”

…

For a few seconds the world stops turning. Nothing but what he said occupies your mind. You were going to die. Right there, in their tattoo studio.

"I….” You try, although the options are so many that you don’t know exactly what to ask for, your tongue feeling heavy inside your dry mouth, “…please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” Mark's head dips to your exposed neck, wet lips pressing against the skin there. His breath is hot and your eyelashes flutter at the contact, then his tongue slides out to drag slowly against your skin.

you sighed and can't reject this offer ofc, as if your words had been forcibly punched out of your body. Desperate. “Just touch me, please.” you breathed, halfway between crying and begging.

“…Where?” He pulls away to look you in the eyes. His pupil is swollen, almost completely black with lust. A smile plays on his lips.

“Everywhere. Everywhere, I just need to—” You can’t pronounce the rest. Instead, your breath is interrupted by a sudden pressure against your lips, and it takes you several moments to realize exactly what’s happening. Mark is kissing you.

Haechan take the chance and grabbed your waist his fingers tracing up to your back unclasping your bra like a pro. “Been dying to see these tits,” he said, giving the one on his side a squeeze the one you tatted just under it but You hadn’t bothered the pain when all you feel is pleasure.

Mark sucked and kissed all over your lips, while hyuck focused on your nipple. His tongue flicked the peak before taking it in his hot, wet mouth.

Right behind the three of you there was a big couch facing the mirror where you saw the final result of the tattoo.

The older one doesn’t wait for to long before taking a few steps back, until he lands comfortably in the couch that you only now realized was there. “Come here, princess.” He ordered.

But haechan grabbed you hard from your wrist and pushed you against mark making you sit on his lap, god he look so turned on, just an hour ago he was smiling brightly and welcoming you.

With a movement of muscles he is pulling the black shirt over his head - he's shirtless, tattooed chest and neck, his bun was slowly coming undone after all the moving. "hold her legs up" He growled while his friend spread your legs lifting them up in the air.

Haechan kneeled down face only few inches away from your panties, the way your pussy was pulsing now watching his tattooed fingers rubbing on your wet underwear, he damn near moaned. “She’s fucking soaked.” The way he spoke about you made your pussy ache even more.

He pushed them to the side and you tried to close your legs but mark grip was stronger, his fingers digging into your soft skin. “Don’t you dare try to hide this pretty pussy from me” hyuck said giving your cunt a good slap making you gasp.

Getting closer then slip between your legs. He kissed your throbbing clit before licking up your arousal, your head feel back on mark's chest with a moan while hyuck devouring you mumbling and degrading your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit faster and harder. Before you could draw another breath, you were tipping over the edge.

Looking at mark with those needy eyes and squirming all over his lap making him throb as well, "shh- I know baby, I know". Haechan licked at you until you finished, then looked up you grinning “So sweet, fuck.”

Mark start hooking his fingers into his pants and yanking them down along with his boxers, his big veiny cock was in a light needy shade of red. He tugs on your skirt as you risen slightly from his lap carefully avoiding your tattoo, For a few seconds you just look at him, asking - begging - for him to guide you in what to do next, and he doesn’t let you down.

One large hand holding both of your wrist behind your back and the other one grabbing his cock guiding his tip on your folds, “Come on princess, let me have you…” He practically pleads against your skin huskily, his larger body slightly trembling in need beneath yours.

You lick your lips and nod shyly looking back at hyuck who is fully naked now standing in front of you not only watching your pretty face but rubbing circles on your clit and choking you softly squeezing on your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered into your ear as he reach down and slowly rub your folds back and forth with the tip of his cock harder, spreading your slick across the entire length of him. “You have no idea what you are doing to me, princess…”

Your pussy burns as you stretch around his cock. You whimper softly when you felt him inside you, he encourages you the whole time, murmured compliments between his tense jaw.

You close your eyes and sink an inch deeper.

The burning stretch and you biting your bottom lip. When you squeeze a little, mark lets out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like this. Good girl. You’re going so well, princess,” he says through a pent-up groan as you lower until the plump tip of him is inside you, the praise coursing through your veins like liquid fire. “Come on, I know you can take my cock.”

“Does it feel good, baby?” Haechan asks hoarsely, pinching your nipple, as he smiled seeing you coming undone.

“S-so good! It’s so good!” You almost cry, He runs his tongue across your bottom lip and you let him in to explore your mouth, your tongues gliding over each other.

A loud moan is shared between you and mark as you sinking fully into his cock. You swear you can feel him in you chest as he opens you, pulsing and writhing wildly where you spasm along the length.

Bouncing on his cock while choking on another is how you ended up, both of them taking turns on fucking you.

“Gonna be a good girl and take us both, right?” hyuck asked. Your lip went between your teeth at the thought of having both of them inside you. You’d never done something like that, but fuck it sounded good. The second you nodded, haechan was lifting your hips and sinking you on to him. You let out a his as your soft walls opened for him. “Fuck she's so tight,” He groaned.

“mmh that ass is even tighter,” mark said from somewhere behind you giving it a spank. You instinctively rolled your hips, letting your body adjust to hyuck. He rocked his hips up slightly, admiring the moans it pulled from your lips. Mark tried to be as patient as he could so you could adjust to his friend, but his patience feared very thing watching his cock disappear inside you. He did not like feeling left out.

You felt mark press up behind you, He pushed you down so your chest was flush against hyuck’s, allowing himself to spread your ass cheeks rubbing your juices all over it. He used his thumb to spread it over your hole before lined himself up to you. His cock head pressed against you, slowly pushing through the ring of your ass.

“Aahh fuck mark!” you whined as he slowly filled you up. You gripped haechan’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin

“You can take it, be brave, angel” mark insisted, continuing to press inside. He bottomed out with a deep satisfied sigh. “See? Taking two cocks like no problem, that's it baby.”

They began to move inside you. It was such a strange, full sensation, but fuck you couldn’t deny it felt so good. They moved slowly at first, making sure you were enjoying it. With each moan that left your lips the moved more freely.

Both men continued to thrust into you more faster. Hyuck’s moans were lighter, on the precipice of a whine, while mark’s were deeper and raspier. It was music to your ears. “Fuck gonna cum? Let it out princess,” mark moaned.

You nearly screamed as the pleasure in your lower stomach completely snapped. Your whole body shuddered as your orgasm flamed through you, your body shaking and twitching, tears falling down your cheeks as you collapsed on top of haechan.

#nct fic #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct hard hours #mark lee x reader #mark lee smut

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dreamingofep · 3 months

Text

Sinned Awakening pt. 22 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin! Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Hello everyone happy Sunday! I’m having a lot of fun writing about not one, but two vampires now🤭 Reader is a really challenging vampire so Elvis has his hands full with you🤭 Hope you like this little part. More to come shortly! Please comment, message, and reblog if you feel so inclined

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3 I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

One.

We’re one.

That word left you breathless and never thought it would be completely true. He made you his and you did the same. You feel like you’re on a cloud, floating aimlessly around him and this new world you had to discover. You continue to study every detail of him, some that you’ve never realized he had before. Like the way his sideburns curl at the ends by his ears. Or how his eyebrows had this fluffiness to them and perfectly framed his eyes. And the way his neck has this perfectly carved musculature to it that makes you want to lick all the way up to the part of his neck you bit before.

The feeling of his touch zaps you back to reality and you look back into his eyes. You’re still taken aback by the beautiful golden sparkling eyes that look back into yours.

“How do you feel baby?” He coos.

You had to pause and think about it. You weren’t accustomed to any of this and weren’t exactly sure what you should be feeling.

“I think I’m okay, everything feels a little different but I feel perfectly fine so far,” you smile.

“I know honey, you’ll need some getting used to it all but it’s okay. I’ll help you through it all,” he assures.

Your thumb rubs against his smooth, flawless face. “How long was I….sleeping? I don’t know exactly what the right word is,” You ask.

“Eight days. I-I-I don’t know why…I’ve never been so scared. I thought I did something wrong.” His voice trembles, pulling you tighter in his arms.

You could feel this impending dread and anxiety in the pit of your stomach and consumed every ounce of your energy. But it wasn’t coming from you, you weren’t feeling like that at all. It was like being fed to you and amplified by a loudspeaker.

You take a step back and look at him bewildered.

“What the hell was that?” You ask in shock.

“What was what?” He looks at you concerned.

“That feeling of impending doom, but I wasn’t the one creating that feeling. It was almost like it was being shown to me or something,” you stutter.

He puts his hands on your arms to calm you and he gives a small smirk at you.

“I think that’s just our bond. Our senses are heightened and attuned to one another more than ever now that we’re bonded. Remember how I told you I could feel your pain when Raphael took you? In some way, that was a small preview of what would happen to us after we were one. I didn’t know it would feel that intense to you I’m sorry about that,” he says sheepishly.

“No it’s okay, you don’t need to be sorry. It was just unexpected to feel an emotion that isn’t my own, you know?” You try to articulate.

“I get it, honey. I honestly am still trying to find more answers about what our new abilities hold,” he explains.

This was a world that even Elvis wasn’t accustomed to and that was a bit frightening. There was so much to discover.

“So you have no idea why I didn’t change right away?” You ask, rubbing circles with your thumb on his forearm, his skin feeling obsessional. The way it’s so soft and melted into yours without trying. You wanted to feel so much more of it. Starting with his back under this silk shirt he had on or feel those soft little hairs on his chest you loved so much.

Jesus focus.

“No, I haven’t yet. None of the legends go into the details of what Chosen mates go through because they are so rare. God, I was so scared, I had no idea what had gone wrong or if this was completely normal.”

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that alone honey. I can’t believe I changed like this.”

“I know, you changed very slowly. First, with your heart slowing to an immortal pace. It was strange, it didn’t have that normal symphonic sound that I was used to hearing so much. Then your scars on your body healed and started to be covered by this beautiful glowing skin,” he says dreamily, dragging his finger ever so slowly down your neck and along the top of your breast. Your body can’t help but arch into that touch that leaves your skin aflame. He takes a deep breath and recomposes himself.

“Then you were very still, with no signs that you’d be waking up from this hibernation any time soon. I was like a caged animal, pacing the room all day and night worried sick I somehow did something terribly wrong to you. I called some friends, vampires, if they had heard about anything like this happening when the change was occurring and every answer I got was the same. They’d never heard anything like this and didn’t know a bonded mate existed anymore. ”

“On the fourth day, I looked at myself in the mirror, ready to be faced by the monster who ruined his Chosen mate and isn’t waking up for whatever reason. For the last fourteen years, I have been used to staring at the red, glowing, soulless eyes that I have been cursed with for quite some time now. I was shocked by every fiber of my being when I saw these glowing youthful eyes stare back at me instead. I was in shock and didn’t know what was happening to me.”

“Sometimes, I tried to wake you, calling your name and have you open your eyes for me, but to my disappointment, you never did. But I could hear your heart flutter at the sound of my voice so I’d talk to you, coaxing you through this all hoping you’d wake up faster. It gave me hope that you were still in there and just needed the time to change. I’d caress your face, feeling how perfect your face felt in my hand.”

As he’s explaining this all, you feel the worry come off of him and it hits you like a tornado. You try to brace yourself for such emotions coming your way but it's almost impossible.

“And the strangest thing happened a few days after that…” he mumbles.

“What do you mean?” You prod.

You chuckle a bit before starting to speak again, “Well, I was changing, physically. I don’t know why but, I was changing into my twenty-four-year-old self without me even thinking about it. It just came so naturally to me because well, that is what I look like under all this in reality. But I’ve always controlled how I look, it doesn’t just get out of hand and I hardly need to think about staying that physical appearance.”

“So I was walking around here worried sick about you, trying to alter my appearance again so you wouldn’t be so startled when you woke up and not be able to recognize me from the last time you saw me,” he chuckles.

“Oh honey, that’s so strange… I really wonder why that is. But I wouldn’t have minded waking up to you like that. Nevertheless handsome, I could never forget this perfect face,” you quip.

He slyly smirks, “thanks little darlin’,” he says low, his eyes staring at your pink lips. He makes a small grumble in his chest as wraps his arms around you once more. “We’ll get some answers soon, let me just hold you.”

His warmth engulfs you and this sense of comfort and longing fills the pit of your stomach. You sigh into him, savoring every last feeling he’s giving you.

“You’re so warm,” you sigh into his chest. He hums delighted, squeezing you tighter before looking down at you.

“We’re the same body temperature now,” he murmurs.

“Oh… I didn’t even think of that,” you say embarrassed. “How do I feel? Any different than the last?” You ask cheekily.

“Hmm… I haven’t gotten to touch ya, let me see,” he coos.

He carefully unties the robe and slips his hands along the curve of your back. You let out a stifled breath and look up at him longingly. His hands travel down further til he fills his hands with your ass and squeezes it firmly. You claw at his biceps and you can’t help but want more from his talented hands. You feel all this desire come flowing out of him and barreling toward you. You feel like it's suffocating you and yet you can’t get enough of it. His hands move back up your back and squeeze at your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“You feel more perfect than ever,” he says as he stares at your breasts. He drags one of his hands up your torso til he can cup your breast and roll your nipple in between his fingers. A spark of electricity runs through you and you moan. You press your face into the crook of his neck and groan in agony. That delicious-smelling scent fills your head once again and makes you feel intoxicated. You groan heavily as you look at him, “what’s that smell?” You ask.

He places his hand back on your hip and throws you a confused look.

“Your senses are overwhelmed right now honey, it could be a number of things. What does it smell like to you baby?” He asks.

“It’s warm and sweet, almost like honey. But savory and delectable, like I can just take a bite out of it and be pleased beyond my wildest dreams,” you try to explain. He tries to hide his pompous smirk but you catch it anyway.

“What? What is that look for?” You press.

“Umm well darlin’, I think that’s me you’re smelling. That’s how you smell to me at least, all sweet and decadent. Like I could feed from that heavenly nectar and feel alive again,” he says low and sultry.

God yes, he makes you feel just like that without even trying. He runs a finger down your neck again and you see how much he wants you.

It’s not only him you’re attracted to, it’s the scent of his blood drawing you to him, this invisible bond attached to the lust for blood coursing through your veins. It all makes you feel for Elvis when you two first met. How he explained to you he thought you were beautiful and the scent of you only put him over the edge of wanting you. That’s how you felt at this moment. You already loved this man so much but now, what you would give for a taste of him. In a flash, this immense wave of hunger consumed you and you looked up at him frightened, unsure of what to do. Your throat started to burn and your mouth watered by just the mere idea of blood.

Especially Elvis’.

Your memory was very murky when you tried to remember how he tasted when you bit him to complete the change. You remember it not tasting very good at first, then it turned into something delicious.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, calm down. Let's get you something to drink alright?” He assures you, closing your robe up again, and ties it shut. He takes your hand to lead you downstairs to the kitchen but you stop him in his tracks by pulling slightly on his arm. You were a little shocked so little force actually stopped him. It was going to take some time to realize you’re just as strong as Elvis now. He looks at you a little surprised too and tries to lure you further out of the room by taking a few steps away.

“I want yours, right now,” you command, barely recognizing your voice right now with how demanding you sound. He lets out an intrigued grumble and feel him like that idea very much.

“Not right now honey, you have zero control and I’m almost sure you’d try to suck me dry,” he quips smartly. “For the first time, I’m the one with the great control, and not you. We have blood in the kitchen, come on honey,” he coaxes.

Your blood boiled not getting your way. It was very irrational, yes, but this new lust for blood made you feel very differently than you ever have. Your throat continued to burn and you huffed at Elvis and reluctantly followed him down to the kitchen. There was no one here and you could hear the waves crash on the shore from below. The wind whirled through the palm tree leaves and you could hear people playing on the shore of the beach.

He lets go of your hand and goes to the refrigerator. The middle shelf was stacked with blood bags and Elvis grabbed one off the top. Something about the notion of drinking blood this way for the first time made you feel queasy. Maybe the human part of you was still inside of you holding on for dear life.

You look up at Elvis with the bag in his hand and going to grab a glass out of the cabinet.

“Okay, baby we can do this one of two ways. Either I can pour this in a glass for you or, you can learn how to use your fangs. Which one do you prefer?” He taunts.

Your fangs.

Oh my God, how could you have forgotten you have fangs now? You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how to use them or even get them to descend.

“Teach me how to use my fangs,” you say promptly.

“Hmm, good girl,” he praises, “okay come here,” he says leading you to the table. He takes a seat on one of the chairs and has you stand in front of him.

“You need to focus on your fangs and your fangs alone. Everyone is a little different but visualize them, picture your teeth becoming sharp and strong. Let that hunger you have drive them out,” he explains.

You swallow and feel the thirst in your throat grow greater. You huff slightly in frustration and try to focus like he’s saying. You’ve never actually seen your fangs so it’s hard for you to visualize what they might look like. But you can only assume they look like Elvis’, long and sharp.

You look at the blood bag in his hand and try to imagine how it’ll taste when you finally taste that blood. Your mouth waters just thinking about it and you think that’s a good sign your body is responding to it in a good way.

“Breathe in through your nose, smell it. That helps a lot,” he says.

You do just that and take a deep breath, trying to get the scent of the blood in your nose and get your newfound senses to work. You lick your lips and take more deep breaths, trying to pick up the scent.

Warm and rich honey swirls in your head and you know what that smell is.

You look up at him with hunger-filled eyes, grab onto his wrist, and try to pull him in but he anticipates the move.

“I just smell you. Baby I want you,” you plead, every breath creating more hunger inside you.

He smirks at you amused and shakes his head at you.

“I know you do, but you don’t get to have mine just yet. You need to learn how to focus and use your senses properly,” he says smugly.

You groan in protest, hating you're not getting your way.

“Please, please let me honey. I’m starving,” you continue to plead. He presses his lips together to stop the laugh about to come out.

“Is this how I sounded to you? So needy and hungry all the time? I’m so sorry darling to put you through that when you were human, that must have been awful to hear all the time,” he winks.

“You fucking little tease,” you grumble, swallowing back the pain in your throat.

“Oh come now honey, I’m just trying to help you. You need to focus or you’ll never get to drink my blood,” he pesters.

You grumble, so annoyed with him and how he’s not letting you do what you want. You try to refocus on the bag and make your entire senses focus on what’s in there. You huff and groan at your thirst and take a deep breath in, closing your eyes to try and get your mind to focus on the bag.

A delicious little whiff hits your nose that smells completely different from Elvis and you pop your eyes back to him.

“I smell it,” you say hurriedly.

“Good, now keep taking deep breaths and let your fangs descend. You can do it, honey,” he coaxes.

You hiss as the burning in your throat worsens and the smell of the blood overwhelms you. You feel no change happening in your mouth and you’re beginning to get extremely frustrated. You were so hungry and this wasn’t easy like you thought.

“Goddamn it this is impossible. I can’t do this. Just cut open the bag,” you growl at him.

Elvis lets out a small chuckle and sees how frustrated you’ve become.

“Okay baby, seems like I need to give you a little more motivation hmm?” He smiles and brings his other wrist to his mouth.

You watch as he nips at his skin and the whiff of his delectable scent consumes you and makes your eyes roll back. You watch as his blood slides down his arm in a small pebble.

“Fucking hell are you kidding me?! You fucking tease! Please honey, please let me,” you beg, about to grab his wrist but he’s much quicker than you and pulls it away from you in time. You hate his crass behavior and growl, baring your teeth at him in anger. His mouth forms into a pleased smile watching you.

“There’s my girl,” he whispers. Your brows furrow and don’t understand what he’s saying and are about to snap at him but your tongue grazes along your teeth. There you feel your razor-sharp fangs bared and ready to bite. You can’t help but be a little surprised by the feeling of them and look back at Elvis, then back to his arm.

“Focus,” he snaps. “Focus on the bag,” he adds.

You groan and shoot your eyes back at the bag in his hand and try your best to avoid looking at his blood rolling down his arm.

You grab his hand with the bag in it and bring it closer to your face and can pinpoint the smell again.

“Gently, take a bite on the bag. Not too harsh or you’ll make the bag burst open. I don’t want you to spill a drop,” he teases.

You glare at him before looking back down and gently biting the bag. Your fangs are so sharp it didn’t take much pressure to make holes in it and the crimson fluid hit your tongue. You swallow it quickly and feel that burning in your throat reside slowly. It tasted good, not at all the same delectable smell Elvis had, but it would do. You start to squeeze the bag to let the blood flow quicker in your mouth and fill this hunger inside you. You can feel some of it dribble out of your mouth and onto your chin.

Shit. He’s not going to like that.

But you were too hungry to care about the mess you’d make. You suck the last few drops out of the bag and do feel much better. Your throat wasn’t on fire anymore and you didn’t have this unquenchable thirst. But lord, Elvis’ blood still called out to you menacingly.

You carefully take your teeth off the bag and look up at Elvis to see if he’d give you some of his.

“How do you feel baby?” He asks quietly.

“Better,” you say breathlessly, still eyeing his wrist. He looks down at his wrist too and looks back up at you with a glint of mischief in his eye.

“Oh, you think you can have some of this now? Well, you didn’t exactly listen to my instructions,” he quips, motioning to your mouth and your chest.

You look down and see you spilled more than you thought you did. You see a stream of it running down your chest and in between your breasts.

You let out a frustrated sigh, “you’re no fun to make deals with!” You snap.

“Too bad. You’ll learn to not make a mess eventually,” he teases, “as far as this mess, I’ll clean this up,” he says slowly.

He pulls you in by your hips and makes you stand in between his legs. You hiss at his forceful touch, on absolute edge right now with his bleeding arm. He opens your robe slightly and looks up at you with a big grin on his face. In one long swipe, he licks the dribbling blood from your breasts to your chin. His tongue ignites something dangerous inside you and you groan in agony as every part of you feels hyper-sensitive. Your heart pounded away as he did this and made it all feel more erotic than he might have intended. You thought you liked his tongue before but nothing compares to how it feels now. You want so much more of him and it makes you feel insatiable.

He reaches your mouth and puts the most delicate kiss on your lips. You want to collapse in his arms as he grabs onto your hips tighter. You softly tug at his hair, moaning into his mouth, “more,” you whimper.

He pulls away, “Still such a bad, bad girl. I don’t know how I’m going to handle all this newfound neediness,” he taunts.

“Oh I’m sure you have a fucking list of things of how you’ll manage it,” you say annoyed, rolling your eyes at him.

He chuckles softly, “Mhmm, you know me so well.”

•

Tagging: @powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

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@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051

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#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis fic #vampire Elvis #70s Elvis #sinned awakening

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thebadgerclan · 11 months

Text

Amplifier

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: Aleksander has yet to touch you...

A/N: Guess who got an 83% on her pharm final??? I’ve been cooking this idea of touch starved Aleksander for a few days, so voila!

Also 4,000 followers???? Thank you all! The semester ends this week, so I might post a celebration then!

Aleksander had not known the touch of another for nearly 400 years. Not since he was almost murdered for the power he possessed, not since he was almost drowned, his skull bashed in with a rock. He had to protect himself, and so he never allowed anyone to touch his skin, to feel the amplification he carried, and for 400 years, it had worked. Until he met you, that is.

You had come into Aleksander’s life and changed it entirely. He was in love, so desperately and completely in love with you, but he was terrified. Terrified to let his walls down, terrified to let you touch him. What if you only wanted him for his power, what if you turned on him, what if you tried to kill him, just as Annika had. So as hard as it was, as much as he wanted to, Aleksander didn’t let himself touch you.

It was something you’d noticed about 5 months into your budding relationship with Aleksander; how he never touched your bare skin. Yes, he would link his arm with yours as you walked, he would rest his hand on the small of your back, but he would seldom do more. If Aleksander was wearing gloves, then he might take your hand, or if you were at a ball and you were wearing silk gloves he might kiss your hand–a gesture you had swooned over before. He had never kissed you, you’d never felt the touch of his skin on yours.

It wasn’t something that was too bothersome, but you did wonder why. Was it an attempt to be proper? Would he lose control of himself if he touched you? Your opportunity for answers came far sooner than you thought it would: you and Aleksander were walking through the gardens when he paused, unhooking his arm from yours. “I’m afraid I have some reports to look over, my dear,” he said, giving you a warm smile. He turned to go, and as he did, you remembered something you’d wanted to tell him.

So you reached out for his hand, your fingers encircling his wrist. And as soon as they did, the most beautiful feeling filled you; a feeling of certainty, warmth, surety. You felt your power surging through you, and it was wonderful. Then, you looked at Aleksander, seeing the shock on his face. And then it hit you. “You’re an–” “Please,” he said, stepping closer to you and taking your hand. “Not here.” Aleksander led you back to the Little Palace and into his rooms.

When the doors were shut, you spoke. “You’re an amplifier?” Aleksander had crossed the room, dragging his hands over his face as he turned to face you. “Yes,” was all he said, and you pressed on. “Why didn’t you tell me? Aleksander, did you…were you ever going to tell me?” “Y/N, please, I…” “Was this to be my life? Never having you touch me? I’ve noticed, Aleksander, that you never touch my bare hands, that you never kiss me.”

“Do you think that’s easy?” he quipped, irritation creeping into his voice. “All I want is to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you, it is hell keeping my distance!” “Then why do you? Why distance yourself? I want you, Aleksander, I love you!” “Because the last time someone knew I was an amplifier, I almost died!” You fell silent, and Aleksander continued. You knew that he was an amplifier, he may as well rip off the bandage…

He told you everything: how he and his mother were forced to travel from camp to camp in his youth, how he knew he was different from a very young age, how at only 13, a Tidemaker named Annika froze the pond they were swimming in and tried to murder him for his bones. “I had to protect myself,” Aleksander said. “So for 400 years, no one has touched me. Not until now.” Your heart broke for him, and you wanted to pull him into your arms and never let him go.

“Aleksander, I…I would never…” “I know that,” he said. “But I’ve lived with that fear for so long, it’s hard to let go of.” You stepped closer to him, holding out your hands to him. “May I?” Aleksander nodded, and you took his hands in yours. You gasped at the feeling of his amplification, and Aleksander gasped at the feeling of your touch. “Y/N,” he whispered, and you stepped closer, sliding your hands up his arms and to his shoulders, where you paused for a moment before cupping his face.

Aleksander’s breathing turned shaky, and when you went up on your toes to kiss him, he broke. Your lover sobbed, crumpling in on himself, overwhelmed by the feeling of you touching him. When his knees buckled, you lowered him to the ground, pulling him into your lap. “Y/N, please,” he cried, and somehow, you knew what he was asking. Now that he’d had a taste of your touch, he was starving, unable to get enough of you. He wanted to claw at your kefta, crawl beneath it, press his skin to yours, feel your heart beating beneath your chest.

“It’s alright, my love,” you soothed, coaxing his head to rest against your chest, wrapping your arms snugly around him. “You never have to be alone again. I love you, Aleksander, I love you so much.” “I love you, Y/N, Saints, please tell me this isn’t a cruel joke. That you won’t hurt me, try to kill me…” You shook your head, kissing his forehead and carding a hand through his hair.

“Never, Aleksander. I will never hurt you.” You tipped his chin up, seeing the naked, raw love and affection in his eyes, and kissed him. Finally, after months of yearning and pining, you truly kissed him. Aleksander whimpered against your lips, clutching the front of your kefta like you’d disappear “Y/N?” “Yes, my darling?” “Will you stay?” You cupped his cheek again, feeling him shudder. “What do you mean, Sasha?”

“Stay here, stay with me. Spend the night with me, spend every night with me? Please?” It was jarring to see the Black General, normally so cool and composed, sweetly asking for you to stay. “Of course I will, Aleksander. Will you let me go get some clothes? Just until I can move all my things here.” Reluctantly, Aleksander nodded, climbing from your lap and letting you stand.

You weren’t gone for more than 10 minutes, but when you returned, he clutched you to him like he hadn’t seen you in a month. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” he said, chin resting on your head. “Me either,” you replied. Aleksander was unwilling to be parted from you, the mere moments it took for the two of you to change into nightclothes was agony. When you fell into bed, he pulled you into his embrace, kissing you greedily.

His heart was racing, yet he’d never felt so content. 400 years without touching another person made your proximity intoxicating, and Aleksander knew you were a drug he would use for the rest of his life. “I love you,” he said. “My sweet Y/N, I love you so much. Thank you.” “I love you too, Aleksander,” you replied. “And you don’t have to thank me. I would love you whether you’re an amplifier or not. And I’ll lay down my life if someone tries to kill you for your power.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, my sweetling,” Aleksander said, tugging you closer and kissing your temple. You snuggled into his embrace, relishing in his touch just as Aleksander relished in yours. Sleep found him easier than it ever had, and when you woke, your lover was curled around you like a vine, tightening his hold when you shifted.

From that day on, you and Aleksander were inseparable. He was always touching you in some way, his hand in yours, his arm around your shoulders, a hand on your thigh, kissing your forehead, your temple, your lips. Aleksander would sweep you into his arms and kiss you deeply as random, drawing a surprised squeak from your lips when he dipped you.

Your nights were spent wrapped in your lover’s arms, trading lazy kisses and whispering sweet nothings against the other’s skin. Aleksander had fallen even deeper in love with you, wanting to be with you all the time. He’d spent so long forcing himself to be alone in order to protect himself, but now, he couldn’t imagine a single day without your touch, without your kiss, without you.

#aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone reader insert

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anincompletelist · 4 months

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wip wednesday :D

okay I am super late to the game today but THANK YOU @kiwiana-writes @theprinceandagcd @suseagull04 @nocoastposts @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @littlemisskittentoes @getmehighonmagic @cricketnationrise @zwiazdziarka @ninzied @eusuntgratie @happiness-of-the-pursuit @inekepp @heybuddy-drabbles FOR THE LOVELY TAGS! I really appreciate y'all being patient with me these past couple of weeks with the responses, I have not had the mental capacity to be as on top of things as I usually am but it warms my heart to see y'all pop up in my notifs and to read through your amazing words, even if it's a few days after the fact! hope you guys are all doing well! <333 xx

introducing yet another little guy that was not supposed to make his way onto the wip list but has weaseled his way in nonetheless (I wholeheartedly blame @bigassbowlingballhead and @firenati0n and @affectionatelyrs for the inspiration and enabling, thanks)

back to regularly scheduled programming next week but for now, I present to you the crack treated seriously (beautiful) nightmare of Jeff (bottoms) x Shane (minx) au --

“Sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong timeline, y’know?” Shane murmurs, one arm folded beneath his head as he stares up at the stars after practice.

The empty football field makes Jeff feel like they’re under a spotlight, the only two left on the stage. The only two in the world, for these few fleeting seconds. Shane’s words are amplified here in the silence, and Jeff clings on to every one of them.

“What d’you mean?”

He rolls onto his stomach and lays his cheek on his own arm, content to look at Shane instead of the field or the sky, the unspoken pressure of their teammates in one and the weight of his parent’s memories in the other.

And then Shane, who’s never once pushed him to be anything more than himself.

“Like. I like the simple stuff, I think. Old fashioned, I guess. I’d much rather get all dressed up and take somebody out on a date instead of just, like, meeting through an app and having a one night stand,” he says slowly, thoughtfully, before his eyes widen. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that either. That’s also totally cool. Just— I think I’d want to take my time and I’ve just never met anyone who didn’t just immediately want to jump on me.” He sighs and then winces, shaking his head at himself. “I’m sorry. That sounds really stupid, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not,” Jeff tells him. He pictures Shane, buttoned up and cologned and maybe with some flowers or cheap wine, and rubs his cheek against his sleeve a bit to hide the way he flushes. Tries not to think too hard about wishing it was him on the other side of the door in that scenario. “It’s not stupid. I like simple.”

Shane’s hand that’d been draped over his own stomach moves down to his side, settling in between them. His pinky grazes Jeff’s elbow, just featherlight, but Jeff shivers nonetheless. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jeff smiles.

since this isn't *technically* rwrb (and brain not wanting to brain at the moment), I'm going to leave this as an open tag!!!!!! please please mention me if you take it so that I can come and scream at you (affectionately!) <3333

see y'all for another bridesmaids update on the 19th! :D

#wips

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sugusatosluut · 6 months

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Your first time meeting Satoru Gojo..

Warnings: Flirting, smut, dirty talk, gojo being curious about you, mating press || please notify me of other warnings I missed!

Satoru gojo knew all of his fellow professors in Jujutsu High school, but he wasn’t well informed about you. To be fair you were brand new, only starting a month ago. He would linger by your classroom as he was taking a stroll for the third time to the restroom. He was curious after all. His students seemed to be enjoying themselves in your presence and it sparked his interest when he saw that you succeeded in making Megumi smile a couple times. Something he hasn’t seen in a while. The day was going by so slow, but it was planning period. The kids were on lunch, you could eat lunch and grade. It was the perfect time to introduce himself. “Good afternoon Mr. Satoru.” You said never once lifting your eyes from Nobara’s Essay.

“Good afternoon. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet but I’m honored you know my name already.” He smirked leaning on the doorframe.

“The students talk so much about you. All good things, so don’t chew them out for it. I’m Y/n. So good to meet the best of the best.” You smiled at him.

He walked in and pulled a chair up in front of your desk. He didn’t have to use his powers to sense your intentions. You were oozing with joy and positivity, it reeked but in a good way. To gojo, you smelled like what he would assume sunshine and flowers smelled like if they were put into a physical form. “Can you see through that thing or are you blind?” You asked suddenly. You didn’t mean it to be rude, but honestly you didn’t know anyone who could wear a blindfold and find themselves doing whatever they pleased. Usually people with blindfolds or eye patches struggled to see.

“I can see everything.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair.

“Can I see your face or is that something sacred?”

“Well I like your honesty and straightforwardness so I guess I can show you, but you’ll have to show me something in return y/n.” He smirked. The way his plump lips curled up into a suggestive smile made your heart flutter. “Satoru, do you usually flirt with the other female teachers this way or is it just me?” You questioned him.

“Just you. I don’t really make it a point to get to know everyone else really well, but you peaked my interest when you made Fushiguro smile. Tell me, what did you do to work that miracle?” He asked.

“Oh gosh, Megumi is one of my most passionate students. Always asking questions right alongside Itadori. I don’t know who raised those two but they definitely are the stars in the room. Itadori learns a lot from Fushiguro. He was interested in my lesson on amplifying cursed energy and focused domain expansions and was able to make his dog about eight inches larger. It was such a sight to see and he’s only been in my class a month. Anyways he was excited and told me about how you taught him a similar technique once before but he couldn’t understand it until today. The boy learns incredibly fast.” You complimented.

“He’s one of a kind.” He smiled.

“So, you really wanna see my face?” He smirked.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t like to chase things so you’re really losing me here Satoru.” You chuckled.

“How about if I show you my eyes, you show me your sacred space- huh? It’s only fair I get to see something beautiful with these orbs of mine.” He hummed.

“Is my face not beautiful enough for you?” You joked.

“Your face is the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen. Your personality is pretty great too.” He smirked at you

Satoru had you bent over in the teacher’s lounge. Your knees were propped up on the seats of the couch, and your arms grabbed onto the top part of the comfortable sofa. Your uniformed teaching dress was pushed up over your ass as he pulled your underwear down as was eating you out from the back for quite sometime.

“You’re really- mmm, so good at this..” You sighed with a moan.

His lips sucked harder and slower, his fingers pushing into you at a quick pace as you groaned in pleasure. Your groans got louder and louder. He stopped licking your wet hole with a small pop as his face rose up, slowly taking his fingers out of you. Satoru flipped you onto the couch long ways so that you were lying down on your back.

“Aren’t you a loud one?” He teased you.

“S-Satoru- I was so close, why’d you stop?” You pouted.

“I wanna get there with you, pretty girl.” He smiled and traced your jaw with his hand, then shoved to two fingers he had in your walls, into your mouth. “Just gotta quiet down some. I locked the door but who knows who could be out there.. don’t wanna get caught.” He kissed your forehead as you sucked his fingers. Satoru opened your legs wider, just for himself. He lined himself up with your hole and slid himself up and down with your slick and spit from earlier when he had you on your knees.

“You ready angel?” He asked peppering kisses all over your breasts. He worked his way up to your chin, then kissed your lips passionately.

“Mhm” you moaned.

He slowly pushed every inch of himself into you, moaning at the feeling. After a few slow thrusts, he couldn’t take it anymore, letting himself thrust into you faster and harder with every small moan as he covered your mouth with his own. Your tongues slid over eachother as he picked your legs up and pushed them onto your stomach. You gasped at the feeling.

“I need you to tell me this is what you want.” He panted, his snowy hair sticking to his forehead as he worked so hard to please you. He removed his hand from your mouth as you nodded quickly and moaned all your yes’s and released all your pleasure through groans.

“Then I’m gonna give it you, I’m giving it all to you.” He panted. He was so pussy drunk and lost in you. You warned him that you were close by gripping his arms tightly. “Me too princess. You ready?” He smirked at you. His thrusts became sloppier as he caressed you tightly. He let out a loud groan as he painted your walls white.

He sighed and planted his body on top of yours for a minute until he had the strength to get up. You played with his hair a little and he closed his eyes.

“Tell me Satoru, you this passionate with all your one time affairs?” You held his hand as he stroked your face.

“Who says it only has to be one time?” He pouted. You both giggled about it, then got up from your places on the couch fixing yourselves in your work attire neatly. As you exited the teacher’s lounge you both bumped into Megumi and Itadori.

“Oh hey- it’s gojo-sensei and Y/N-san!” Yuuji called out excited. Megumi looked up from his phone at the two of you.

“I texted you.” Megumi said.

“Oh is that so? Sorry kid, been kinda busy showing Miss y/n here the ropes. She tells me you’re doing great in her class.” Satoru smiled at him.

Megumi motioned towards his phone with a sort of side glance towards gojo, who took note of it to check his own phone.

Megumi: Hey, wanted to run it by you, think we should invite y/n over for dinner, I also want to see if she’ll train me on weekends when you have special grade missions to go on. That cool with you?

Gojo looked as you chatted with them.

“Hey y/n.. Itadori. Why don’t you guys join Megumi and I for dinner tonight? It’s on me.” He smiled

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satorugojo #gojou satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #jjk itadori #itadori yuuji #megumi x reader #yuji itadori #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk drabbles #help im going insane

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 2 years

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Can’t Help Falling In Love Chapter 4: Butterflies

Synopsis: Wanda and Y/N share a tender moment together minutes before their wedding

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Y/N

Characters: Y/N, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark

Warnings: It’s so fluffy I’m gonna die

Word Count: 2.0K

Part 3 | Part 2 | Part 1 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: This is one of my favorite chapters in this series. So much fluff, so much emotion. Hope y’all enjoy!

Y/N was anxiously pacing back and forth in the backyard. He was supposed to meet Wanda by this huge old oak tree, the same one where Clint would set up his archery targets. He’d barely been there five minutes but it felt like an eternity. The anticipation of seeing Wanda in her wedding dress was killing him.

“Yo Hemingway! Keep walking like that and you’re gonna wear a hole in the ground!”

Y/N whipped around. It was Pietro. He was standing by the back porch, hand cupped around his mouth to help amplify his teasing. He knew that Hemingway was Wanda’s nickname for Y/N and of course he teased him relentlessly for it. Seeing Pietro break out into his signature mischievous grin, he rolled his eyes in return.

“And when it’s done, Wanda and I are gonna bury you in it!” he yelled back.

“That’s a good one!” Pietro chuckled as he shouted back. “But you’re kidding, right?” He shoved his hands in his pockets nonchalantly and began to stroll towards Y/N. Y/N raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Right?”

Y/N shrugged. “Try me and we’ll find out,” he grinned. The banter between the two was always playful, never malicious. He wasn’t just Wanda’s brother. He was one of Y/N’s closest friends as well. Y/N had helped Pietro out of many sticky situations on missions. Nearly getting blown up created a bond of shared trauma (and laughs). But the two really bonded over one thing in particular: video games. Many nights and quinjet flights were spent playing Mario Kart or Smash Bros. While Wanda had hoped Y/N and Pietro would at least get along, she’d never anticipated they’d be so close.

Pietro shook his head. “How ya feeling?” he asked.

“Ehh?” He looked down and kicked a rock across the hard ground.

“You’re less than an hour away from getting married and all you can say is ‘ehh’?!”

“I just wanna see her, man. I’m so nervous.” Y/N pulled at his shirt collar. It suddenly felt too tight around his neck and his bowtie wasn’t helping.

“She looks great, don’t worry about that!” Pietro lovingly punched him on the shoulder.

“I’m not worried about that. I dunno, I guess it’s the anticipation about all this,” he replied, gesturing vaguely to everything around him.

“Well I’ve never been married so I can’t give you any advice there,” laughed Pietro. “But if it makes you feel any better Wanda’s already cried today. She’s nervous, too.”

Y/N smiled. It made him feel better knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling butterflies. They had talked about their feelings in the days leading up to the wedding, but talking about your wedding day and living it were two very different experiences.

“I’m excited for you guys. I mean I can’t think of a better guy to marry my sister.”

“Thanks, Piet.”

“And now I get to pester you about when I’m gonna be an uncle!”

“Let’s, umm, yeah…let’s not rush things,” Y/N weakly choked out. He and Wanda just wanted to get through today and here Pietro was pestering them about babies.

Suddenly a voice interrupted the quasi-awkward silence that enveloped the air around the two men.

“Hate to break up the gossip session fellas, but I’ve got a bride-to-be who is anxious to see her future husband,” called Natasha, working her way towards the duo.

Pietro jumped into action. He threw himself behind Y/N and wrapped his hands around his head. “I’ve got him, Nat! He won’t look too soon!”

Natasha roared with laughter as Y/N tried to wriggle himself free of Pietro’s grasp. “It’s okay, she’s still inside. You can let him go.” He slackened his grip as Y/N pushed himself off the speedster, who had raced his way over to Nat.

“How’s she doing?” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“She’s good,” she whispered back. The duo was watching Y/N readjust his suit after Pietro’s assault. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s nervous, but good.”

“Good, good…alright, let’s go inside and grab Wanda. We’ll send her out and we’ll stay inside and give them some privacy.”

“Do we have to?” Pietro whined. Nat smacked the back of his head. “Right. Got it.”

“Okay Y/N turn around and face the tree!” Nat yelled as Pietro rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head. “We’ll go get Wanda and send her out!” Y/n shot her a thumbs up behind his back as he turned towards the tree.

He stared at the tree intently, studying it’s every feature. He could feel his heart racing, his palms grew sweaty, and it felt like he was trying to swallow a handful of cotton balls. Yet through the nerves he felt a flutter of excitement. He’d been waiting for this moment all day. He didn’t know anything about the dress or how she was doing her hair and makeup. Anything she did would be wonderful. She was just beautiful. Period. Wanda Maximoff was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on and he was the lucky one who would get to spend the rest of his life with her. He smiled as he thought of his favorite moments with her: the day they met, their first date, that one mission where they ended up hijacking a fishing boat and docking it in the river by the compound, the endless Great British Baking Show marathons, early mornings snuggled together in bed, the first time she said ‘I love you’, the moment he realized he was going to marry her, their first kiss, the amazing day they spent together before he surprised her by proposing, the time they-

Hi honey, Wanda spoke to him in his mind. Why don’t you turn around now?

Y/N froze. “How long were you in my mind?” he asked, failing miserably at hiding the grin that was spreading across his face.

Long enough, she responded. She, too, was failing to keep a smile from forming on her lips. Y/N exhaled, rubbing his hands on the sides of his pants. Are you ready? He nodded. Me too. The tension in the air was palpable. He slowly turned and laid eyes on his bride for the first time.

Y/N felt the air leave his lungs as he saw Wanda for the first time. She was a vision in white. Her white gown was stunning. It had long sleeves that provided the slightest bit of warmth against the cool fall air. The body of the dress was fitted to her figure with a long billowing skirt and train. Her hair was done up and she was wearing a flower crown that Yelena and Kate had made for her. He couldn’t see her shoes but he knew that May Parker and Pepper had taken her out shoe shopping as her bridal shower present. She wore the necklace he’d given her for their first anniversary, the one with the entwined hearts, around her neck. And the late afternoon sun caught the emerald of her engagement ring just right, casting a green reflection onto the tree as she fidgeted with her hands. She, too, was fighting the butterflies that were fluttering in her stomach.

“Oh wow,” he managed to whisper after he felt himself come down from the initial high of seeing his ethereal bride-to-be. “Wands, you look incredible.” He couldn’t help but look her up and down, drinking in every ounce of her beauty.

“You don’t look too bad yourself either,” she grinned. It was true. Y/N looked extremely dashing in his three-piece charcoal grey suit, crisp white shirt, and deep maroon bow tie. His hair was freshly cropped and he’d trimmed his beard down to a notch above stubble the way Wanda liked it.

As he looked at her, Y/N felt his throat constrict and his face grow hot. He looked down at the ground and covered his eyes with his hand as he began to cry. Wanda was the only person in the world he could be truly vulnerable around. Yet at this moment he didn’t want her to see him cry. It didn’t matter that they were tears of joy or that they were the only two people in the universe at that moment. Wanda had held his hand every step of the way through getting him to open up, but there were moments he still struggled. This was one of them.

As he cried, his sobs muffled by his hands, he felt a pair of arms envelope him and tenderly pull him close.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You’re okay, Hemingway,” Wanda soothed. She ran her hand up and down his back as he continued to cry into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated between sobs.

“What are you sorry for?” Wanda asked. She had moved her hand up from his back to his head, running her fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know,” he sniffled. He pulled his head up from Wanda’s shoulder. “God you’re beautiful.”

Wanda laughed as she wiped the tears from his face. “So these are happy tears then I take it?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Yeah,” he mumbled sheepishly. He moved his hands, which were pressed up to his chest, down to Wanda’s waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her close.

“Hi,” she whispered

“Hi,” he whispered back as he rested his forehead against hers.

“We’re getting married today.”

“Mmhmm.”

“In less than an hour.”

“Mmhmm”

“Are you excited?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Me too.”

“You look beautiful in that dress.”

“So you’ve said.”

“But I think you’ll look even more beautiful when I peel you out of it later.” A devilish grin grew on his face as he looked down at Wanda.

Wanda blushed a deep shade of crimson. “Behave,” she scolded, kissing the tip of his nose.

“For now, darling,” he responded. “But I can’t make any guarantees for tonight.” As he spoke his hands slunk down from her waist to her hips. Wanda giggled at his touch. She gazed into his eyes with all the care and admiration in the world for her beloved.

“Kiss me,” she coaxed.

Y/N felt her arms pull him closer to her. He leaned in, closing his eyes as he kissed her softly. He kissed her with all the love and affection in the world. As they broke away he noticed tears had started to run down her face.

“Hey, hey, hey, let’s not start this again,” he murmured.

“I’m okay,” choked Wanda. She reached into her pocket to retrieve the tissue Nat had given her.

“Wait, it has POCKETS?!” Y/N exclaimed at this latest discovery.

“Duh!” She carefully dabbed at her face.

“That’s so cool,” Y/N’s face lit up as he took note of the pockets on either side of Wanda’s dress.

She smiled. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah…you?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiled down at her. It was almost impossible to think that in less than an hour Tony would pronounce them husband and wife. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

“I’ve got butterflies in my stomach,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he confessed. They both giggled, staring at each other for what simultaneously felt like an eternity and no time at all.

“Earth to lovebirds!” Tony yelled from the back porch. “We gonna get this show on the road or what?”

Y/N groaned. “Remind me again why he’s officiating our wedding…”

“Because it was either him or Thor,” Wanda reminded him.

“Right. Yeah. Good call.”

“Well, I guess I should go,” sighed Wanda. “See you at the other end of the aisle!”

As she walked back towards the house, Y/N noticed her flick her wrist. Suddenly something caught the corner of his eye. Turning his head he saw that Wanda had conjured a flight of monarch butterflies around him. He chuckled to himself as a butterfly landed on his outstretched hand.

“I’ll be waiting.”

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acourtofthought · 8 months

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One of the reasons I can never ship elriel is bc I clocked that Az the darker, quieter version of Rhys, and Elain the lighter, quieter version of feyre. There have been so many times I’ve seen feysand artwork and initially mistook it for elriel fanart and vice versa. Like Rhys’s whole thing is darkness shadows and night. Az is that but amplified. Likewise, feyre is light and was initially the bride of spring in pink gowns and flowers, as is Elain. Also sjm clearly wrote a Persephone Hades retelling in their story, not only in Rhys taking her away from spring but there are also crumbs like how one of feyre’s takes UTM was picking lint out of a fireplace and other things that are present in the original Persephone myth. It just confuses me how people ship elriel when the whole aesthetic has already been flushed out entirely in Feyre and Rhys lol I just think it’s redundant to look for it again in the quieter versions of those characters. I don’t judge anyone for who they ship and admittedly there’s beauty in the whole dark/light, corrupted/salvation, death/life type pairings, but they’re literally already there in feysand LOL. Alas have a good day

You're on the right track but I don't even seen Elain as the lighter, quieter version of Feyre.

Feyre and Elain are almost nothing alike.

Feyre and Nesta were the ones who were completely over the ball in the human lands, barely wanting to interact with the people. Feyre was the one at the party in Spring wanting nothing to do with anyone. She was the one on Tarquins ship standing off by herself.

Elain was the one closing down the house, party still going until 2 in the morning as she was "flushed and brilliant, laughing among a circle of friends". The one who made it a point to dance with all the important lords sons. The one who can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles. Elain is not like that in the NC because Elain is not really happy in the NC.

And yes, Feyre was the "bride of Spring" stolen away for a certain period of time by the "dark lord" (which is where the Hades / Persephone thing comes in) but that's not who she was. She never really belonged there and belonged in a place with darkness and a bit of deception.

Feyre and Nesta were always a bit pessimistic while Elain was optimistic (a difference Feyre notes in ACOTAR).

It's not like Feyre loves cruelty but she's not all that bothered by it when she thinks it's deserved (look at what she did to Ianthe) whereas we're specifically told cruelty bothers Elain.

Feyre's got a good heart but the only light about her is that she was given Helion's power. She says she could never be a fit for Tarquin because of her darkness, that he was too light and good for her.

Feyre and Rhys have light and dark powers together but their personalities are pretty similar. They're both willing to do whatever is needed to protect their loved ones and that includes being the monster if necessary. They are both kind of dark inside.

But I agree, Az is an even darker, quiet but deadlier version of Rhys. And that means his perfect match needs to be a lot more like Feyre is though even Feyre struggled with Az's torture session considering the soldiers weren't in their right minds, therefore she considered them blameless. And that is not Elain. Those two are at such opposite ends of the spectrum, it's basically the Grand Canyon. Like SJM said "the only bridge of connection...that knife." SJM told us she's blooming Spring, she is life and he is Death and they have nothing in common except for the knife in that moment.

If SJM liked the complete opposites attract trope then why did she have Feyre turn into "when you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begins to stare back". She could have made Feyre the quintessential bride of Spring, full of light and happiness and flowers. But instead she laid the clues as to how that wasn't ever going to be Feyre and showed us Feyre's transformation into a "monster" like Rhys. "And then, curled up trembling at every horrific and cruel and selfish thing I'd beheld within that monster- within me."

So really, the problem comes from them thinking SJM likes the light / dark aesthetic and that's why she'll like E/riel. SJM likes the imagery of light and dark (Rhys's shadows with Feyre's white light) but that aesthetic is only a surface level thing in these books. When you get to the important stuff, Feyre and Rhys are good but both dark. Nesta and Cassian are good but both dark in their own ways (Lady of Death / Lord of Bloodshed). Elain is good and light and Az is good and dark and that's not SJMs preference. Based on what she writes, Elain would need someone also good and light (like Lucien or Tarquin. Not that I think she'd end up with Tarquin, but that is the type of character I believe Sarah would pair her with if her own mate wasn't an option).

#elucien #anti e/riel #feysand

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so-much-for-subtlety · 4 months

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cw: neurotic rambling/dysmorphia

Sooooo like many of us gays I have intense insecurities about how I look. I know I’m not totally u-g-l-y but I know that I’m also particularly attractive either, and I think those insecurities are amplified living in a big city when you open the apps™️ and see a grid of ridiculously handsome stylish people (or if it’s sniffles, dozens of 8” dicks and/or perky peach bubble butts) in a 20-minute radius.

There’s also some anxiety around misrepresentation. I’ve had a couple of experiences where guys don’t look like how they represent themselves online. Of course we curate our profiles to be flattering, but I hate hate hate the possibility of meeting up with someone and they feel like they have been deceived.

Bigger picture, popular culture has increasingly yassified itself over the last few decades. In the past you could be a successful actor or musician or author by being great at your craft, now you have to be great at your craft AND top percentile of attraction too.

Obviously a lot of this is subjective, and I think that there are very few ‘ugly’ people in the world, but out of hundreds of people I see during a day, if I were assessing their looks I think it would be a rare case that I consider someone unattractive, and if that did happen then I know my unattractive wouldn’t be the same as other people’s (I know lots of people get funny over larger or uncommonly shaped noses but I think that’s a great feature).

Unfortunately for me this is not just a psychological problem, but when I look in a mirror or try and smile for a photo these neuroses come to the surface and manifest in my physical posture, my expression etc. the photos I like of myself are definitely candid moments a friend has captured while I didn’t know a photo was being taken.

With all that said, I took a dick pic this week and shared with a couple guys (both who I consider way out of my league) and they’re into it. So like St. Moira says: take those noods! We’re all just crazy whores. Get into it!

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starsfic · 8 months

Text

Shadow singer //lmk one shot//

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50339251

Macaque is alone in his house. He’s cleaning it up. He never could quite live in a dirty house like Monkey King. Mac preferred organization and cleanliness. Something Wukong could never truly appreciate. He grows tired of the quiet sweeping though. He taps his tail on a CD player. His hips sway as the song picks up from where it left off last time he turned the player on. “Hey. I just wanna say ‘hey’. To let you know you blow, and all you did was-” He alters his voice to auto tune it as he sings. “Feed my ego.” He changes it back and sounds bitter as he dances while sweeping. “And baby even in the end, I tried to make amends. I guess till then I got myself a,” He smiles. Getting lost in the groove. “It’s funny how the tables have turned. I know it’s crazy, but I love it. So for now in return, I guess I got myself a-” He jumps on a table. “FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN! IT’S FAAAAAAAAAAAN BEHAVIOUR!” “Woaaaaaaaah!” Macaque falls off the table as he hears the amazed boy’s exclamation.

“Ah- Kid- Didn’t expect you here today. How about you join the club, and help me clean up?” He tries to slide past him singing. “You can sing!? That’s amazing!” MK is bouncing around excitedly. “Ugh. Yes. I can sing. I just don’t do it often since…” He trails off. Thinking about Wukong mocking his singing. It was just some light words, but with DBK, Azure Lion, and Peng joining in it hurt all the more. “I just don’t enjoy it.” Mk frowns. “Can I hear some more? Pweaaaaaaaase?” Mk’s eyes glitter as he begs. “No. What are you here for, kid?” Macaque glares. “OH! Here.” He holds out a bowl of ramen. “I know you haven’t been eating right, mister.” Macaque sighs at Mk’s words. “For a kid. You’re quite an intuitive boy.” Mk blinks. “I’m quite what?” Macaque laughs, and takes the bowl.

Later, Mk is fighting a new villain. He is a strange creature. Tall and slender. With long, dark gray hair. His skin is a pale peach color with golden markings around his face, arms, and down his back. He wore an open backed robe that seemed to be similar to those in the Celestial Realm. His eyes glowed with a shining a silvery gray that seems almost hypnotizing. “I grow tired of this charade boy,” He hisses between gritted, fanged teeth. “I do not have time for games such as these. You are as annoying as your predecessor.” Mk breathes hard, but smiles. “I can keep this going aaaaaall day if I have to!” The creature smiles. “You don’t even understand what this is, do you?” He motions to the strange object he attempted to steal. “Uuuuuuuuuuh a trophy?” Mk blinks. They’re at a singing competition’s backroom. “No. It’s a scroll that holds the secret to amplifying one’s power to the point of being more powerful than Buddha himself.” Mk’s eyes widened. “And I, Gēr Zhànshì, shall use it to raise my kingdom back from the depths! From whence Sun Wukong destroyed.” Mk groans. Of courrrrrse he’s another person his teacher ticked off. Maybe he should have a long talk with him.

Before he can react, Gēr lets out a super sonic scream that sends Mk flying into a wall. “I guess I'll just win it ‘legally’.” He laughs as he vanishes. Mk starts to panic. He runs home. “PIGSY! WE NEED YOU TO SING IN A-” A cough resounds through the shop. “No can do MK.” Tang says with the pale, sickly Pigsy shaking and coughing. “Pigsy lost his voice after getting sick. I won’t be singing much of anything right now.” Mk grows pale. Pigsy was his major shot. He tries to think who could win that contest. Tang sounds like a dying cat when he sings, Sandy is too old school, Mei hates singing in front of people- Wait a minute. “MEIIIIIIIIIIIII! WE NEED TO GO FIND MACAAAAAAAAAAAAAAQUE!” He runs out.

Cut to Macaque in front of Mk and Mei with arms crossed. “No.” He says plainly. “THE FATE OF THE WORLD DEPENDS ON IT!” Mei says, panicking. “I’ll move to the underworld.” Macaque jokes. “I’ve been there before.” Mk blinks. “What?” Macaque pats his head. “Uh. Don’t worry about it.” He mutters. “Please Macaque!” Mei and Mk say with puppy dog eyes. Macaque sighs. “Fine. But. I have one condition.” “Anything!” Mk says excitedly. “Wukong has to be there.” Mei and Mk are shocked. “You WANT him there?” Macaque nods. “I want him to learn. I’ll meet you there later tonight. I’ll even take a human form for you.” He goes into his shadows. “Wait, they can take human forms?” Mk asks, shocked. “Well I guess you can so…” Mei makes a “I guess it makes sense” motion.

Skip to Monkey King staring down a peach cobbler. “You. Are made of peaches. And I love peaches. But you also look funny which I don’t like. But peaches. But-” Mk zooms in. “MONKEY KING!” Monkey King screams, and sends the tray flying into the sky. He blinks slowly. “Chang’e probably is going to enjoy that.” He turns to Mk, and sighs. “Kid I was in the middle of-” Mk starts rapidly shaking Wukong. “WE NEED YOU TO COME TO A CONCERT TONIGHT! THE FATE OF THE WORLD DEPENDS ON IT!” Mei stops Mk. “Calm down Mk. We gotta do this slowly.” She clears her throat and starts shaking Wukong. “YOU BETTER COME TO THE CONCERT OR I WILL PERSONALLY RIP YOUR TAIL OFF AND-” Wukong picks up Mei. “Mk did you lose a small dragon pup?” He has an annoyed look. “SMALL!?” Mei says angrily. Mk explains what’s going on.

Wukong was a bit shocked. He sighs. “I guess I can come. I’ll go in human form as well. Won’t let him show me up.” Mk blinks. “YOU HAVE A HUMAN FORM!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?” Wukong sighs. Feeling a bit of embarrassment. “I tend to look like a middle aged dad. Which is less than flattering.” He sighs, and closes his eyes. In a second, he turns into his human form. He has fluffy, blonde hair with golden eyes. His smile is less sharp, and a bit of a peach fuzz beard covers his chin. He has a bit of hair on his arms and legs. The funniest part though, is his beer belly. To see the very fit, very strong Monkey King with a beer belly just makes Mei and Mk giggle.

“The human form reflects our eating habits and such. And… I like peaches okay!? Don’t judge me.” Wukong pouts a bit. “You actually kinda look like Mk’s dad.” Mei squishes his face. “He’s not my dad,” “He’s not my son.” The two say at the same time. “Pigsy’s the one who raised me, and he’s my dad.” Mk explains. “And I'm nowhere near ready to have children. Maybe in a few more centuries, but not now.” Monkey King says while shaking his hands in front of him. Mei rolls her eyes. “Alrighty.” Wukong starts to look in his clothes. “I need to look good for this. If I'm going out in… this… form I'm going to look good.” He pulls out the hoodie he wore in Lantern City. He brushes his hair out, and smiles. “Alrighty.” Finger guns. “Let’s go.”

The three are soon in the front row of the contest. Wukong is annoyed how everyone is saying how cute it is that he’s taking out his two kids. “I’m not that old.” He mutters. Mk and Mei give him a “are you serious?” look. “Who even is the villain Mac is going up against?” Wukong leans back. “Gēr Zhànshì.” Mk says plainly. Wukong springs up. “HIM!? WHY DIDN’T YOU-” Suddenly music spreads through the area. Mei suddenly leans forward. Very interested. Mk is confused. Gēr Zhànshì walks on stage. He’s wearing a black vest, gray slacks, and spiked boots. “Ladies and gentlemen, please. Would you bring your attention to me?~” He smiles. The only ones not affected by the music is Wukong and Mk due to the golden vision allowing them to see what he truly is. A siren beast. “For a feast for your eyes to see. An explosion of catastrophe.” He moves his hips rhythmically. Walking across the stage with a wild grin. “Like nothing you've ever seen before. Watch closely as I open this door.” He flips his hair back. Causing the crowd to go wild. “Your jaws will be on the floor. After this you'll be begging for more.”

“Monkey King what’s happening?” Mk tries to shake Mei who seems to have abandoned wanting to cheer for Macaque, and instead is screaming Zhànshì’s name. “He has the ability to sing and hypnotize people. We’re immune mostly due to our golden vision.” Zhànshì smirks, and dances. “Welcome to the show. Please come inside. Ladies and gentlemen!” He starts throwing his head down causing his hair to fly violently on every boom. “Boom! Do you want it? Boom! Do you need it? Boom! Let me hear it! Ladies and gentlemen!” He repeats it a couple times. A pair of purple eyes watch from the shadows. Macaque scowls. He’s never really liked Zhànshì. He actually took pleasure in watching Zhànshì’s kingdom fall when Wukong destroyed it. He hated the man in front of him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, good evening.” Zhànshì gently runs his hand under a girl’s chin. She starts to cough up blood. Mk freaks out. “You've seen, and seeing is believing. Your ears and your eyes will be bleeding. Please check to see if you're still breathing.” Wukong knows if he intervenes, everyone listening will be very very hurt. They have to listen to the entire song otherwise they will end up like that girl. “Hold tight 'cause the show is not over. If you will please move in closer. You're about to be bowled over.” Mk tries to touch Mei, but Wukong stops him. ‘By the wonders you're about to behold here. Welcome to the show. Welcome to the show! Please come inside. Ladies and gentlemen!” Zhànshì repeats what he did on the chorus. “His spell makes it so if you interrupt the song everyone will be hurt. We have to let it go. Otherwise Mei…” He trails off. Mk feels red hot anger, but he numbs it. Tears pierce his eyes. “Okay.” He says quietly.

After the song is over, Zhànshì bows, and blows a kiss to the crowd. The crowd goes wild. He walks past Macaque, and shoulder checks him. “Beat that monkey boy.” Macaque glares. The announcer comes on stage. “After that dazzling performance. Welcome Mac Shadowheart!” Wukong rolls his eyes at the name. Macaque walks on stage. He has tanned skin, black hair, a beard, and deep purple eyes. He’s wearing a black jacket with a popped collar. His shirt is a crop top, dark purple shirt. Exposing his abs to the crowd. His black jeans were ripped, and he wore black combat boots. Mei’s jaw dropped. She is staring with hearts in her eyes. “Oh my god who is that!?” She giggles like a schoolgirl. “Yeah he looks awesome!” Mk says with stars in his eyes. “Macaque.” Wukong says with a sting of jealousy and annoyance. Mei and Mk stare at Wukong shocked. “WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THAT AND YOU LOOK LIKE- THIS!?” they say. “HEY I DON’T LOOK THAT BAD!” He snaps back. Macaque gently grabs the mic as the music starts. “I owe this as a tribute to an old friend of mine. Peaches.” Wukong freezes at the old nickname.

“This… is for me?” Wukong is surprised. Macaque leans back as he sings. “I try to make it through my life. In my way there's you… I try to make it through these lies. That's all I do.” Macaque meets his eyes with Wukong. “Just don't deny it. Just don't deny it. And deal with it. Yeah, deal with it.” Wukong crosses his arms, and pouts. Macaque smirks. “You tried to break me. You wanna break me.” Wukong pauses, and stares back up. He shakes his head quietly. “Bit by bit. That's just part of it.” Macaque shrugs. Letting his shadows dance in the background. “If you were dead or still alive! I don't care! I don't care!” Wukong feels his heart break a bit. Does Macaque really care so little for him? “And all the things you left behind! I don't care! I don't care!” Mk frowns. He feels almost bad for dragging his teacher here to be dragged across the stage by Macaque’s words.

“I try to make you see my side. Always try to stay in line. But your eyes see right through! That's all they do!” Macaque is getting more into the song. Struggling to keep his emotions at bay. The crowd cheers at him showing his emotions. “I'm getting tired of this. I've got no room when it's like this. What you want of me, just deal with it!” Wukong has a tear trail down his face. “Macaque. I didn’t. It wasn’t my fault.” Mei pauses, and looks at him. “Not your fault? Is NOTHING your fault?!” Mk silently looks away. “You’ve caused SO MUCH pain. Just as much pain as good in my opinion. I used to think so highly of you. But as i’ve gotten to know you. I see you’re nothing.” Mei says angrily. She’s sick of his attitude. “You deserve this.” Mei says. Macaque sings as they talk. “So… If you were dead or still alive! I don't care! I don't care! And all the things you left behind! I don't care! I don't care!” Zhànshì starts to worry about losing this.

“Nothing can care about. I'm taking care of it! You won't be there for me! YOU WON’T BE THERE FOR ME!” He screams out the last part. Tears falling down Macaque’s face. During the bridge, Macaque takes gasps of breaks to calm down a bit to finish the song. Wukong grips his fists tightly. “If you were dead or still alive. I don't care! I don't care! And all the things you left behind! I don't care! I DON’T CARE!” Wukong grits his teeth, but then… his body relaxes and he slumps in his seat. Burying his head in his hands. Feeling a bit ashamed. “If you were dead or still alive! I don't care. Nothing can care about. I don't care... I'm taking care of it. And all the things you've left behind. I don't care. you won't be there for me. I don't care... at all.” Macaque drops the mic, and leaves. The crowd going wild.

Macaque felt a bit better. He was able to get all those pent up emotions out. Zhànshì pinned him against a wall. Growling. “You’re going to forfeit the competition.” He says angrily. Macaque laughs. “Scared, are we Zhànshì? That’s what you always were. A coward. You couldn’t even save your people from one. Little. Monkey.” Zhànshì moves to hurt Macaque, but Wukong tackles him and starts pounding his fist into Zhànshì’s face. Tears flow down his face as he repeatedly beats Zhànshì over and over in the face. Macaque eventually pulls him off. “Why…” Wukong asks. “Why what?” Macaque says. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!” Wukong snaps. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU THOUGHT OF ME LIKE THAT!? THAT I HURT YOU!” Macaque stares at him dumb founded. “You cannot be serious.” Wukong growls. Showing he is very much serious. “Buddha. You’re stupider than I thought. I did everything to comfort you when you were trapped. Yet, you treated me as your enemy. I betrayed the brotherhood for you. It left me alone, and broken when even you didn’t wanna see me anymore. Finally, you made new friends. Forgot all about me. I admit I was… I was jealous. I wanted to BE you Wukong. Then… our fight and…” His hand drifts to his eye.

“My death.” He could still feel the phantom pain from when he was killed. The betrayal he felt in his last moments. Wukong looks away. “You could have talked to me.” That ticked Macaque off. “Talk to you? And you say I'm overreacting? Or that I'm stupid for having feelings? That I'm WEAK!? Even after you traveled with that ‘master’ of yours, you grew no more intelligent Wukong.” He starts to walk towards the awards ceremony. Monkey King glances back at Macaque as he leaves. He didn’t want to leave it like this. An idea hits his head. A bit of bile rises up in his throat as he thinks about it. “Oh boy.” He feels sick as he rushes up on stage, and grabs the mic. “I HAVE A SONG I WANT TO SING FOR MY FRIEND MAC!” Macaque is shocked. What in the rings of hell is Wukong doing? Wukong stares out at the crowd. They all seem confused. He swallows the vomit gathering in his throat. He picks up a guitar. Starting to strum. Ignoring the eyes. “Empty home, no trace of you. Can't say that I'm surprised. All the Hell I put you through. Was showing in your eyes.” His voice shakes slightly.

“Can't say I blame you at all. I hate myself for what I've done. I swore that I'd never call. But I just need you to know…” Macaque watches Wukong unimpressed. He then hears Mk and Mei talking. “Isn’t he afraid of performing?” Mk says surprised. “Maybe he finally wants to do something right by Macaque?” Mei says with a huff. “That I'm so sorry! That I had to be the one! The one to break you! And let you come undone!” Wukong is closing his eyes tight to try to avoid the fear and nausea over taking him. “I know I let you down. You deserve much more than me. Just leave me here for dead, I'm begging, please! Kill my memory!” Macaque glances at him. Is he trying to apologize? “6 a.m, I'm getting weaker. Keep reaching for the phone. I tell myself it's wasted time, 'cause you're not coming home.” Wukong thinks of all the 6 a.m. regrets with peach schnapps and broken memories. “I left you so many scars. I don't deserve a second chance. You gave me all that you are. I let you slip through my hands…” Macaque stares in shock and amusement.

Does he really think Mac would forgive him with a silly song? “That I'm so sorry! That I had to be the one! The one to break you! And let you come undone!” Macaque pauses, and realizes. Wukong isn’t asking for forgiveness. No. He’s asking to not be forgiven and to be forgotten. “I know I let you down! You deserve much more than me… Just leave me here for dead, I'm begging, please. Kill my memory.” Oh if only the crowd knew the great Monkey King was begging for his memory to be forgotten and killed off. One of the most beloved and revered legends. Begging to finally be forgotten. “It's keeping me awake, every chance I had! Now it's just too late, there's no going back. You are better off without a trace of my memory. Can you just erase me?!” Macaque snickers that Wukong in all his pride is begging to have his transgressions forgotten. Things that will not be forgotten even after he is long gone as proven by the five hundred years away.

“That I'm so sorry! That I had to be the one! The one to break you! And let you come undone!” Macaque feels his smug smile soften a bit. To be forgotten… as he had been… A tear escapes his eyes. “I know I let you down. You deserve much more than me. Just leave me here for dead, I'm begging, please! Kill my memory…” Wukong places the guitar down softly, and runs off. Violently vomiting into a trash can. Throwing up repeatedly. Shaking. Macaque claims his prize since the other main competitor is… incapacitated. He goes, and gently pats Wukong’s back. “Get it all out moron.” Wukong throws up once again.

Later, Mei, Mk, Wukong, and Macaque are together with the scroll. Mk smiles. “Maybe we should read it! It’ll give us ultimate power so we can use it in the future.” Mei glares. “If anyone’s gonna read it, it’s gonna be me. I handled the Samadhi Fire! I can handle this!” Wukong scoffs. “That was nothing kid. If anyone should read the scroll, it should be me!” “YOU!?” Mei says annoyed. It causes a three way argument. While they fight, Macaque grabs a lighter, and lights the scroll on fire. It burns to ashes. “Wait- NO!” Mk says in shock. “There. Now no one can read the scroll.” Macaque dusts his hands off. “Why did you do that!?” Wukong says shocked. “Wukong. You don’t deserve any more power. Mei would go crazy with that much power. And Mk can’t control that much power yet as a kid.” Mei pouts. “I guess you’re right.” Mk perks up. “Wanna go get ice cream, and then go to the arcade?” Mei lights up. “DOI! LET’S GO!” The two run off. Wukong moves to go after them, but Macaque grabs his shoulder. “You aren’t forgiven yet. But… I guess we can start anew. Just as long as you don’t keep acting like a jerk.” Wukong pauses, but then chuckles. “Deal Mango.” The two walk off. The ashes of the scroll blowing in the breeze.

#submission

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k--havok · 3 months

Note

🖊️ for the ask game, for any oc you'd like!

🖊️Body writing? What would they write on their partner(s)? What would they want written on them?

Okay so! This is actually an idea that was floating around for Waking into Divinity! I even wrote a oneshot about it, so I'll go ahead and share that here! It's not writing per se, but demons in Waking into Divinity have special paints they can use on their bodies to amplify or nullify certain feelings and such. There are shapes and specific things they write on themselves in their demonic language, but usually it's related to poetry, sayings, or wishes for good luck.

The oneshot below is a little old in terms of lore, so there are some terms or some worldbuilding that is no longer relevant to the story.

Word count: 6,291 Warnings: Mentions of sex, mentions of violence, old writing Rating: 18+

Rylie sighed, smiling to themselves as they scrolled through old pictures on their phone. They leaned back against the couch, lost in their own thoughts.

“Dinner,” Casrath said as he set a plate down in front of them. “Baked salmon sitting on a bed of asparagus with a glass of chardonnay.”

Rylie glanced up from their phone. “That looks amazing, Casrath. Thank you.”

Casrath grinned at them. “Anything for you, Rylie. I hope my skills have continuously improved for you.”

Rylie flushed. Keeping their phone balanced on one of their knees, they dug into the meal. Their eyes shone as soon as they took a bite of the fish.

“This is amazing. Like… really amazing.” They greedily dug their fork in for another bite.

Casrath chuckled, his own blush gracing the tops of his ears. “Thank you, Rylie. That means a lot to me.”

As the two ate, Rylie continued to glance at their phone, still smiling, and continuously swiping through pictures.

“Everything alright? You’re usually not this quiet.”

“Just enjoying the meal. And-- well, looking at some old pictures is all.”

Casrath tilted his head to the side. “Old pictures?”

“Yeah. When me and my parents went to DisneyLand when I was younger. See?”

Rylie passed over the phone to him. “Um, don’t mind my clear awkwardness and growing pains, okay? I was 16 at the time.”

“You were precious,” Casrath said, flipping through the pictures as well. In all of them, Rylie wore one of the biggest grins he’d ever seen. A pair of mouse ears sat atop their head in most of them.

Younger Rylie had the same beautiful jade eyes, the same cute nose, and that same dazzling smile. Their hair may have been much longer, and their clothes a little ill-fitting, but that didn’t matter to Casrath.

“I loved the Tower of Terror. It was my favorite ride there,” Rylie said. “Everything was amazing, actually. One day I’ll go again.”

Casrath chuckled. “I would take you there, then. If that is what you wish.”

Rylie shook their head, but their grin never fell. “Thank you, Casrath. I honestly miss it… even though I’ve only ever been there once.”

“I understand all too well, trust me.”

Rylie nodded slowly, finishing their food and their wine. They swirled the last dregs of chardonnay around the bottom of the wine glass.

“Hey, Casrath? Do you ever miss Hell?”

“Why, of course. You, and Earth, are most welcoming. But Hell is my home.”

A small tinge of red spread across Rylie’s cheeks. They pointedly looked away from Casrath, and swiped through their phone without really seeing the pictures to give their eyes and hands something to do.

“So-- so I’m guessing… bedding me… isn’t the only reason why you want to take me, right? Or-- or is it?”

Casrath snorted. “That is merely one of many, many reasons, Rylie.” Scooting closer to them, he tapped his knee against theirs. “I would love to show you the lands I’ve conquered, the beauty of my keep, as well as some of the more mystical places. It is not all fire and brimstone, as you put it. There is much beauty there, and is as diverse as Earth, if not moreso.”

“I don’t think I can even imagine all that, but I’d like to try.”

“One day, you won’t have to even imagine,” Casrath murmured. He pressed a tender kiss right above Rylie’s ear.

A shiver of delight raced down Rylie’s spine, but they tried to ignore it.

“What do you miss most?” Rylie asked instead.

Casrath rubbed his chin between two fingers. He relaxed back on the couch. “That… is a difficult question to answer. I miss many things, none more than another.” He wrapped an arm around Rylie’s waist, pulling them closer to him.

Rylie could fight against his kisses, but not his touch. Never his touch. They sunk into his warm side, sighing softly. Casrath felt sturdy, strong, and simply comfortable. Although hard muscle covered every inch of his body, when relaxed, he made for the best of pillows.

“Well, what are some of the things you miss right now? Like… I dunno. On your average Hellish day--” Rylie bit back a small laugh at their own joke, “--what would you be doing after dinner?”

“After dinner? Hm… let me see….” Casrath fell back into his thoughts. He idly rubbed circles with his palm across Rylie’s small love handles.

“I suppose, after dinnertime, I would see to it that everything is as it should be. No incoming attacks, no major or sudden calls from Court, and I would retire and find whatever entertainment I seek in that moment.”

“What sort of entertainment is that?”

“Sometimes blood sports--”

Casrath paused at Rylie’s horrified look.

“--I would not be participating, merely watching. It is a common and popular pastime in Hell.”

“Do, uh, demons actually, you know, die?”

“Well… yes. Of course.”

Rylie blinked slowly. “You know, I’m not ready to unpack that right now or process it. I’ll do so later. Uh, what other entertainment is there? That’s, um, not violent?”

“Well, of course there is popping some bottles of wine open and inviting some friends to the keep for a round of drinks. Sometimes I fly across my land, see whatever sights interest me most. Other times, I wish for more…” Casrath paused, and even his hand halted against them. “I suppose carnal pleasures is a fine descriptor.”

“Ah, sex. Of course.” Rylie rolled their eyes.

“It is not always sex, Rylie. Sometimes I merely like watching--”

“Wait, so you’re a voyeur?”

“Hm? No, no, you misunderstand me.” Casrath chuckled at that. “Why would I watch what I can have for myself?”

“Some people are into it,” Rylie said with a shrug.

“And that is fine for them, but no. I prefer… watching dancers.”

Rylie blinked. Then blinked some more. They sat up and away from Casrath, turning in their seat to peer at him.

“Wait, there are strippers in Hell?”

“Dancers,” Casrath corrected, “is our term, but yes I suppose so. There are many dances that are performed. Some are separate from myself, and I merely watch. Other times… there is a more active role.”

Rylie debated with themselves whether or not they wanted to pursue the conversation. Did they really want to know Casrath’s preferences when it comes to inhumanly beautiful demonic dancers?

Unfortunately for Rylie, their curiosity was one hell of a drug.

“Um, how so?”

“Sometimes I have my concubines dance atop me. Other times, I dance with them. It is… a sensual experience.”

For a full second, Rylie’s brain short-circuited. Concubines. Dancing. On me. With them. Sensual.

Casrath frowned. “Is everything alright? Are-- are you overwhelmed?” Casrath scooted away from Rylie, giving them their distance and personal space back.

“A-- a little bit,” Rylie admitted softly. “I don’t know whether to focus on the dancing aspect, you joining in, or the fact that you have concubines.”

“Well, what would you be the most comfortable talking about?”

“Um, the dancing. Definitely the dancing. Is there, like, poles?”

Casrath chuckled. “No, not exactly. There are many forms of dancing, and all have different requirements. However, no matter the form of dancing, we utilize different paints.”

“Paints? Like on your body?”

“Yes.” Casrath closed his eyes and leaned on his fist. “The paints are usually imbued with magicks. Or, other times, laced with special berries or dyes with… other properties.”

“What sort of properties?”

“Usually the paints enhance pleasure. But other times there are more functional uses, such as giving better stamina, cooling effects, and the like. Some grant enhanced swiftness, and others speed.”

“Sounds like a better use would be for, like, fighting then.”

“They can be used for battle, yes. Our paints--fa’loth is the term--have many, many uses.”

Casrath’s expression--so serene and graceful--pierced Rylie’s chest. Sometimes, they forgot just how far away home was, and how many amenities he was used to having were simply not available.

Rylie couldn’t quite imagine Hell. They couldn’t imagine the scope of his land, the size of his castle, nor much at all. Everytime they tried, Lord of the Rings inevitably popped into their mind.

But Rylie was certain Hell was no New Zealand.

“Yes,” Casrath murmured, more to himself than Rylie. “That is most likely what I would be doing right now.” After stretching his arms out to the ceiling, Casrath climbed to his feet and gathered their empty plates and wine glasses. “But, for now, it is time to do the dishes.”

“Here, let me. Since you cooked,” Rylie said. And before Casrath could object, they took the plates from his hands. “How about you go… and I dunno. You could always go to the club if you want to dance.”

Casrath tilted his head to the side. “Are you certain? I thought you preferred my stay here, rather than out with others.”

Rylie blushed a little at that. “Well, it sounds like you still have some energy left. And you know me, I’m always tired.” Rylie bumped their forehead against his shoulder. Casrath towered so tall above them, that his shoulder was all Rylie could reach with their hands full.

“If you insist. But I shall not be gone all night long. I shall return before dawn, and before you wake.”

Rylie smiled at Casrath. “That’s no problem. Now, go and get ready.”

Casrath chuckled at their impatience. “Perhaps you are simply wanting some quiet, alone time inside. In either case, I do not mind.”

Rylie smiled at Casrath, but didn’t respond.

It was true that sometimes, they did indeed want their quiet time alone. But tonight?

Tonight, Rylie had a plan tumble its way through their thoughts.

As soon as the dishes were washed, Casrath gone, and Beepers settled in for the night, Rylie curled on top of their bed with their laptop.

They didn’t mention it to, well, anyone really, but they had taken pole dancing classes before. Only a handful, before the cost outweighed their food budget. Their curiosity had taken hold of them during that time, and since their parents had already moved by then and weren’t watching their every move, Rylie thought it would be a fun activity they could try.

Fun was the best descriptor for their time pole dancing. The second was exhausting. The last, expensive. But all of it was totally worth it.

They didn’t have a pole in their apartment to dance on. And besides the basics, they didn’t know too much. But with the slight knowledge of exotic dancing as a backbone, Rylie figured it wouldn’t be too hard to google around for some tips on lap dancing.

Rylie didn’t bother to pretend it was the wine causing them to think in such a way. Living for so long with someone so incredibly handsome, who had the best kisses and touches, and who always knew what to say to make their knees weak left Rylie reeling.

Their stomach twisted with a mess of butterflies and nerves as Rylie fought to keep their focus on the task at hand. They didn’t have long, but they wanted to do this impromptu… dance routine right the first time.

Getting up from their laptop, Rylie dug through their dresser before finding, stashed at the very bottom, a set of Victoria's Secret lingerie with tags still attached. With it in hand, they meandered into their bathroom. They didn’t keep much makeup on hand--they barely had a use for the stuff. However, after digging through one of the many messy bathroom drawers, Rylie dug out an old set of Halloween makeup hidden beneath cotton swabs they did indeed use inside their ears along with the extra free toothbrushes as given by their dentist.

Rylie barely glanced at the date as they tore into the red, orange, green, and black body paints and glitter. Glitter held no interest for them, but they greedily grabbed the red, orange, and black.

Rylie avoided looking at themselves in the mirror as they undressed. They couldn’t afford losing their courage and confidence now. Not after tasting phantom kisses on their lips and with heat already pooling in the lowest pit of their stomach.

Keeping their head down, Rylie cut the tags off the unused lingerie. An impulse buy with the aid of Jess whispering terrible decisions into their ears as well as a sale, Rylie regretted it as soon as they had gotten home with the little lacy number. Black on black, the bra had not just loops of lace and frills, but an underwire with plenty of padding. Unlike their sports or even balconette bras, this one had a deep plunge in the center. The underwear matched, of course, with high-waisted black straps separate from the lacy piece. As the only thong in their closet, Rylie found themselves more than a bit mystified as they slipped it on over their rear.

A deep sigh worked its way between their lips. They wiggled and squirmed as they fought to get the unrelenting bra over their head without having to undo the strap in the back.

Rylie hated the “swing it around” method. It always rubbed rough against their skin and nipples.

Still keeping their head down, Rylie bit their lip. Did they dare look up into the mirror?

They already know what they would see. A fat slob. Unproportionate, with a belly that hung just a little too over the hem of the panties. Their breasts already felt off in the plunge bra as well. It felt like every movement would cause them to pop out in the front. And already, the tops of their breasts were spilling out.

Rylie sighed through their nose slowly before peering up at themselves.

Flush with heat and wine, Rylie froze as they stared at themselves.

Indeed, their hair sat messy atop their head. Their skin remained blotchy. But the underwear didn’t hide in their chub rub or thick thighs. The high bands accented their hips, while simultaneously the black color slimmed their ass and breasts down.

The bra was ill-fitting, but for once was too tight, not way too big. Victoria’s Secret was always weird in its sizing, Rylie supposed. They turned around, and bit their lip at the sight of their entire exposed butt.

They had to admit, it did make their ass look good. And although the bra shoved their breasts up an uncomfortable amount that Rylie was not used to, they found that they didn’t… hate the set as they so vehemently thought they would.

In fact, although the bra was ill-fitting, the thong remained surprisingly comfortable. They already didn’t feel the string, and it reminded them of not wearing any underwear at all, almost.

Rylie smiled softly at themselves in the mirror. “Who knew,” they murmured to themselves.

Grabbing the black Halloween makeup first, Rylie tilted their head in thought as they squirted a little of the paint onto the tip of their finger. Not dry, but definitely getting up there in age. Best to use it now then later, they supposed.

In a way its saving money. Rylie chuckled.

After debilitating a little too long at themselves in the mirror, Rylie decided to use the black on their eyelids in a mockery of eyeshadow. Afterwards, they grabbed their cheap eyeliner and slapped it on as well.

The green of their eyes popped against the black background of their eyes and… outfit. They hesitated before adding any more. What else could they do that wouldn’t look too stupid and costume-y?

They stood alone in the bathroom for several minutes on end, going back and forth as to what to do. A quick Google search also brought nothing useful to the table, either. Rylie couldn’t quite understand what Casrath wanted and would look for.

Furthermore, they didn’t want to assume. It was his culture, not theirs, after all.

After a short and quick two-step pace in the bathroom, Rylie gathered up the costume makeup and instead left to the living room to put them on the coffee table.

Digging out a packet of tea lights Casrath bought just in case the power went out again, Rylie set them up around the apartment. Checking the clock, Rylie waited another ten minutes before lighting all of them.

Several sat on the bar guarding the kitchen, four boxed in the line of costume makeup they left on the table for Casrath to use as he wished on them, and several more on the windowsill and next to the TV. After flicking the lights off, a hazy glow rose from the little candles, bathing the room in small and smokey clouds of light yellow. The flames flickered and danced, casting soft and playful shadows against the walls and furniture.

Rylie bit their lip as their heart thudded in their chest. It had taken them nearly three hours. It was almost time.

Their hands shook as they sat on the couch, curling one leg under another and leaning back. Rylie couldn’t quite fight the urge to bounce their leg. Biting their lower lip, a sudden small wave of nausea grew as the minutes stretched on.

Perhaps they had too much wine to drink. Way too much. Or perhaps it was somehow laced with something. Casrath would never do something so devious. Or would he?

No, Rylie shook themselves, he would never.

A tide of gooseflesh rose across their arms. They shivered. The candles brought barely any heat, and Rylie never liked sitting in practically no clothes at all. No insulation meant no heat.

As a child, Rylie never thought through their decisions. They would always act before thinking, and would sometimes act through several steps of a process before realizing how wrong they were. Such as in science class, when they measured their baking soda and vinegar wrong to the point where the mixture bubbled over and across their table. Or, even worse, when they thought Maxwell Grant liked them since he kept pulling on their ponytail. Just the idea of a boy liking them, at that time, caused them to have a crush.

The fallout of their confession of that elementary school crush still sometimes popped up in their nightmares.

Now, Rylie found themselves sitting on a precipice. If they didn’t stop now, didn’t blow out all the candles, run into their room, change, and clean up quickly, the point of no return would come and go without them. And they would fall.

Muscles tensed, Rylie sat up. All too soon, however, that familiar creak of the front door echoed through their apartment.

Panic surged through them. Gripping the edge of the couch, Rylie’s eyes darted around. Grabbing a blanket off the end of the couch, they flung it around themselves, blocking the sight of their body as Casrath poked into the apartment.

He blinked slowly, looking around at the candles before his eyes settled on Rylie. A soft smile tugged at his lips.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

Tongue-tied and still vibrating with anxiety, Rylie shrugged, unable to form words. They tugged the blanket tighter around themselves.

Casrath moved smoothly over to their side, gliding across the carpet. He took off his leather jacket and hung it next to theirs on the wall.

Rylie couldn’t stop their eyes from drifting to how his plain orange tee-shirt hugged his biceps all too tightly. Their body, already heated, flushed further. The fact that he wore his jeans way too low on his sculpted hips also didn’t help. As Casrath sat besides them, Rylie caught the whiff of alcohol on his breath.

But no musk. No sweat. No stench of sex clung to his body like a second skin. No lipstick stains covered swollen lips. Besides a soft blush and his easy smile, nothing else seemed out of place.

Casrath eyed them and the costume makeup on the table. He shifted closer to Rylie, wrapping an arm around them.

“Your eyes are mesmerizing in this light,” he whispered to them, his voice dark and husky. “And you painted them.” His fingers caressed their cheek, leaving ghostly trails of heat.

That damned frog remained in Rylie’s throat. They nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

Casrath hummed to himself. His fingers traveled lower to their neck, and he traced circles all the way down to the soft spot between their throat and their clavicle.

Rylie tensed as Casrath thumbed the erogenous zone. A shiver danced up their spine.

His eyes, heavy-lidded and dark with desire, flashed. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Rylie finally said. Their voice came out cracked from disuse and nerves.

Casrath leaned in, dusted his lips over theirs, before dipping his head down and kissing at that small spot he just thumbed.

Shocks of desire raced through Rylie’s body. A small sigh escaped and they tilted their head to the side, allowing Casrath further access to their throat as he bathed them in small kisses. His tongue darted out, swirling against every particular sensitive spot, leaving Rylie wanton.

Their speechlessness finally broke, Rylie licked their lips with their dry tongue. “Cas?”

“Hmm?” he murmured against their throat as he nuzzled them.

“R- Remember our conversation from- from earlier? Today? Before you- Before you left?”

“Of course. I remember all our conversations, Ree.”

Rylie’s brain short circuited again briefly. Mentally shaking themselves, they continued, “well… I know you miss your home and- and such and- well- you see. You see, I wanted to- wanted to do something nice for you. And you know, I thought. I thought, um--”

Casrath leaned in and silenced them with a long kiss. His tongue darted against their lower lip.

Rylie moaned, and Casrath swallowed it gleefully. He nipped their tongue as Rylie tried to return the previous gesture.

They pulled back with a small gasp, their face glowing pink, and peered up at him shyly.

His voice, deeper than before, resonated with a dark timbre. “Will you be dancing for me, Rylie?”

Rylie nodded, unable to find their words yet again.

Casrath released them, and stood up to push the coffee table away from the couch to allow Rylie plenty of space. As he did so, he picked up the costume makeup.

“I- I didn’t quite know what- what you wanted so… I know its not the same and the makeup is old but….”

Casrath held out a hand for them.

Rylie hesitated. If they stood up, the blanket would fall away. They gulped.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“It’s not a matter of trust.”

Rylie hesitated again.

“It’s a matter of tempered expectations.”

Casrath sighed through his nose. “What do you think my expectations are?”

Rylie looked away, frowning. “Whatever beautiful men, women, and enbies you had in Hell. Stronger, faster, with more stamina than any human.” Rylie scrunched up their nose. “Probably fitter and more flexible too.”

Casrath’s hand remained hovering in the air.

“And yet,” he said, “I have never had the pleasure of my tal’rith dancing for me. Nor the pleasure of a human doing so much to accommodate my needs and understand my culture.

Rylie shrugged again. “That’s… that’s just the bare minimum, though.”

“Not to me,” Casrath said.

Rylie stared at his proffered hand, their heart thumping hard in their chest, and a bead of sweat rolling down the side of their temple. A burst of energy coursed through them, tensing their leg muscles. Far from the type to run, Rylie knew that, in that moment, they could have sprinted with ease.

Rylie slid their hand into Casrath’s.

No more running.

Rylie pulled themselves to their feet with Casrath’s assistance. The blanket fell away, revealing every inch of skin. Immediately, Rylie looked down at their bare feet, their entire face glowing in another blush as a second bead of sweat traced down the back of their neck.

“Rylie.” Casrath’s fingers tilted their chin up. His eyes bore into their own.

They bit their lip, gulping again, shivering and sweating at the same time.

For once, Casrath struggled to speak. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then breathed their name a second time. His eyes roamed over their face before dropping to the rest of their body. Rylie tensed, curling their shoulders in on themselves, and crossing their arms over their pelvis.

Breasts were breasts. But any further….

Casrath gathered them in his arms, pulling them close to his body before diving down to press a kiss against their lips.

This kiss-- oh.

Rylie gasped, parting their lips for him to explore their mouth. They moaned again, pressing their own tongue against him to taste him back. This kiss-- this kiss had heat. It had teeth, as Rylie took the initiative for the first time, and nibbled on Casrath’s lower lip.

This time, it was Casrath who gasped. And as he pulled away slightly, Rylie pressed onward. A surge of confidence filled them as they pressed their tongue into his mouth.

Casrath’s mouth ran hotter than their own. The tips of his fangs brushed against them as they tasted alcohol on his breath, the scent of ash, and something woody and natural beneath. Almost like pine, but just off enough to give them pause. Casrath did not proceed in the opening Rylie gave him, but continued to allow them to explore his mouth just as fervently.

All the while, his hands traveled down their back. He stroked their hips, running his hand from the top of that second black band, down the flesh it pinched outward and accented, and further down to their lower hip and leg. His hands circled back around, and ghosted up the round hill of their ass.

Rylie tensed for a squeeze that didn’t happen.

Pulling away, Rylie gasped as the need of air overcame their own desires. They panted, staring up at Casrath with wide and wild eyes.

The strange and sudden confidence didn’t diminish. It still worked its way through them, touching every nerve. For once, Rylie didn’t allow their brain to run freely ahead of them. They acted before thinking, grabbing Casrath’s hands and spinning the two of them around as to switch their positions.

Casrath fell back against the couch, sinking into it. He spread his legs out and stared up at Rylie. They recognized that look of lust and hunger, with his lip partially curled, exposing a bit of his fangs.

Perhaps the wine from earlier had been a good idea, Rylie mused for just half a second before realizing, with one last thought, that they had almost forgotten the music.

“Casrath,” Rylie murmured, and the voice which came from their mouth was unrecognizable to them; dark, heavy with want, and smooth. “Would you mind putting some music of your choice on? Something… slow.” They tossed their phone to him.

Casrath easily caught the phone mid-air. After a bit of fiddling, a low, sultry tune slunk its way out of the tiny speakers. Piano-based, but with a hint of string and a saxophone. He set the phone down to the side.

“Perfect,” Rylie said, and they proceeded to shut the rest of their thoughts out.

They placed their hands on Casrath’s knees, and slid their body between them. Shifting their weight from foot-to-foot, they shook their hips back and forth.

A long sigh escaped from Casrath’s nose as Rylie used their fingers to walk their hands up his legs, bobbing their head and shaking their hips in-time to the slow, waltzing music. Before their hands reached his crotch, they let go, standing back up to instead drag their own fingers down the side of their face, and then further down the side of their breast.

Rylie allowed their eyes to fall shut and submitted themselves to the will of the music. They continued to dance, following altered steps of their previous pole-dancing class. The steps remained small as they danced closer and closer to Casrath, trailing their own hands down their body, across their face, chest, and hips.

As they opened their eyes, Rylie reminded themselves that they were not the flexible type before trying to fling their leg over his shoulder. Instead, they slid their leg against the outside of Casrath’s, leaning forwards, and planting their knee next to his hip.

Rylie sighed softly against Casrath’s lips, which now were only a few inches away.

Casrath fidgeted. His eyes continued to roam over their entire body. His chest rose and fell in his own hard pants as he sat, tensed as a bow string.

Rylie shot him a cheeky grin.

That broke Casrath. He lunged forward, hooking his fingers around their hips, and dragging them onto his lap and into another dizzying kiss. A growl mingled with a purr rumbled in his chest, nearly drowning out the music. He ravaged Rylie’s lips, but rather than submitting, Rylie’s own deluge of an attack met him.

They bit back harder, rubbed their tongue just as hard against his, and kissed his lips just as swollen as theirs. Rylie locked their fingers behind his neck, leveraging themselves to better position themselves on his lap.

Casrath shifted beneath them as well, pulling them ever closer into his chest. Rylie’s knees sat outside Casrath’s upper thighs and their clothed crotch sat right above his own.

With their heart still beating hard in their throat, Rylie pulled away from Casrath to gasp for air. Their hands and body no longer shook with unwarranted shivers.

Casrath’s purr remained, and he rubbed circles into their hips with his warm palms. The touch was neither soft nor too rough.

They sat back, peering down at Casrath with their head cocked to the side, barely a thought sparking in their mind.

Casrath stared up at them with ever darker eyes. That demonic orange flame within raged, but for now, remained contained.

The music, that soft piano, teasing string, and playful sax, still swirled around the both of them.

Rylie smirked. Catching the beat of the music, they shifted their weight back and forth, a slow start to build to a full gyration.

Casrath released a long, low moan at Rylie’s machinations. As Rylie rocked their hips back and forth along Casrath’s crotch, they trailed their fingers across his clothed chest, tracing nonsense shapes into the fabric. They watched, enraptured, as his eyes fluttered close and his lips parted yet again as another moan escaped from him.

Heat pooled in their lower belly, and Rylie felt something unfamiliar, but all too knowable, shift beneath them as he hardened. It brought yet another smirk to Rylie’s lips, but this one a little more uncertain.

When Casrath’s eyes flashed open, Rylie braced themself to be flipped around, for those lips to crash into theirs and for him to seize and conquer them. But instead, Casrath leaned in, and traced his nose against their own. His hands left their hips as he picked up the fallen costume makeup from the couch, and popped the lid open.

“May... I- I paint you?” Casrath breathed against their lips. His words bled into his heavy pants.

Rylie merely nodded.

Casrath squirted orange paint onto his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together, smoothing and thinning out the paint, before reaching up to brush his fingers along Rylie’s neck.

Rylie shivered as the cold paint met their heated flesh.

Rylie couldn’t see what Casrath was doing, but they could feel his fingers as he painted long, jagged lines down either side of their throat. He curled those lines toward their clavicles, before lifting his fingers, and then painting an unrecognizable, geometrical symbol.

Casrath continued his own machinations, trailing his fingers to continue similar symbols on Rylie’s shoulders and down their arms. Rylie glanced down, watching as Casrath curled the paint around their biceps before drawing the same symbol on the back of their hands.

The symbol was a simple one; a polygon with 6 sides, and yet in a shape similar to that of a Valentine heart. A dot between the sqggggggggggggguncertainty hitting them like a freight train. Up to this point, without a mirror, Rylie easily ignored the presence of their stomach. They didn’t have to look and see how it hung over the hem of their panties. Nor did they have to pay attention to how it already pressed forward and into Casrath’s own muscular front before even their breasts did.

Not that they wanted that. A flatter stomach by itself would have been fine.

Slowly, Rylie squeezed their eyes and shook their head back and forth. No. Not right now. Not when they had been on top for so long--

“Okay,” Casrath murmured, and his lips ghosted against Rylie’s once more in a tender kiss. The cold touch of his painted fingers brushed along their hips and thighs. “Is this better then?”

Rylie nodded. They leaned their forehead against Casrath’s. Carefully, with Casrath guiding their hips as he painted them, Rylie started to gyrate their hips once more.

It was hard not to brush against his erection. Contained by thick denim against the side of his leg, everytime Rylie found themselves accidentally brushing their wet panties against it, Casrath shuddered. Using his shoulders as leverage, Rylie once again caught the wave of the looping music, and dove back into their wicked dance.

Rylie played with Casrath’s hair as he decorated their body further with the red costume makeup. This time, he added details to the orange markings, crossing over the previous orange lines in twisted and detailed filigree. Casrath traced a line of red following their temples down to their jaw, curving beneath and connecting it to the orange alongside the sides of their neck.

His heavy breathing continued to billow against their face with every shared touch.

And as Rylie found themself lost within the sensation of his hands and the music, a soft moan slipped past their lips as they continuously ground against Casrath’s need.

Then, he started to grind back. He snapped his hips upwards, rubbing himself back against them.

God.

Heat pooled in their own core, winding it tighter and tighter.

And as Casrath reached around to grab a massive handful of their ass, squeezing hard and pushing them down against him harder, Rylie found themselves whimpering softly at their own need.

Their eyes flashed open. They were not the fittest, and as such, already their hips and knees were beginning to hurt with the effort of keeping themselves upward.

Casrath didn’t close his eyes, nor did they leave Rylie’s form. He raked his sight up and down their body as he continued to squeeze and fondle their ass, pressing them further down into him. He leaned in, but rather than kiss their lips, he instead nipped their clavicle before moving downwards to press the flat of his tongue against the tops of their breasts.

He dragged his tongue in a long, sizzling lick across the top of their chest. He pressed another kiss between their breasts, right where their cleavage began.

Rylie threw their head back as Casrath dragged another moan out of them.

“We- we need to stop. I- I mean. I don’t want to but--” Rylie panted.

A growl rumbled in Casrath’s chest, but with a long sigh, he pulled back. His eyes remained dark, his eyebrows drawn in, and his mouth parted in heavy breaths.

“Yes. Yes, I-- if we do not….”

Casrath wrapped his arms around Rylie. He shifted their weight, tucking them into his chest. He buried his face into the top of their head, breathing deeply.

“...If we do not, I will not be able to stop myself any longer from taking you right here,” Casrath murmured.

Rylie flushed, but they nodded. “Oh.” They bit back their words, their begs for Casrath to give in for once. For him to flip them around, pull off his pants, and for him to fuck them right into the couch.

No, Rylie told themself. We can’t. Not yet. It’s not time yet.

“You-- you are a devious one, Rylie Hill,” Casrath said with a small chuckle underlining his words. He easily picked Rylie up off his lap to instead tuck them into his side rather than on his noticeable erection.

“Only sometimes,” Rylie said. The smirk didn’t drop from their lips. “I- I don’t know if I did anything right. I’ve never really given anyone a, uh, lapdance before. But- but I wanted to do something nice for you. I don’t know.” They looked away as their senses came trickling back, and with it, embarrassment. “Sorry if I was heavy.”

“Rylie….” Casrath leaned his cheek on the top of their head. Picking the blanket up off the ground, he draped it over the both of them before turning the music off and hugging Rylie close.

“You were wonderful. I do not have words in this language to explain how much what you did means to me. Nor do I have words to express just how much I enjoyed you.”

Rylie flushed. “Um, I don’t think you need words….” they glanced down at Casrath’s now covered lap.

Casrath chuckled. “Indeed. But no, you are not heavy to me at all, Rylie. I am much stronger than I look.” He nuzzled the top of their head. “I- I know you will want to wash up soon, but- but do you mind staying here, with me, for a little longer?”

Rylie smiled softly. “Oh, Cas….” They turned, and pressed the smallest of kisses against his lips. “I don’t want to leave yet either. I can wash up in a little bit.”

Casrath’s purr grew louder. He picked Rylie up to put them back in his lap, but this time he held them almost bridal-style -- settling their head against his shoulder.

“Perfect.”

#writeblr #writeblr community #my writing #lanx writes #am writing #writers on tumblr #wid #waking into divinity #casrath #rylie #old writing

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brighteststar707 · 2 years

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Hi Faye! (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+ Congrats on finally being free for the summer, I hope you'll enjoy your break to your heart's content ♡

Kissing the RFA event sounds super fun, can't wait to read about our favorite gang getting the smooches they deserve lolol

Anyways, may I request the ''neither of us know what we're doing'' kisses for Ray? This promt is so cute, and it made me think of him instantly 🥺

Hi Mia! I hope you’re doing well! I’ve definitely been enjoying my break, it was needed 😅

Thank you for the request! I really liked this combination, it was super fun to write! I hope you enjoy <3

Ray - "Neither of us know what we're doing" kisses

Ray knows a lot. He taught himself everything he knows (everything that the Saviour didn’t, at least). He studied tirelessly until his skills rivalled his brother’s. He’s incredibly smart, though he wouldn’t often admit it. He was used to living his life under the belief that nothing was more powerful than his devotion to Mint Eye. To the Saviour.

That was until he saw you for the first time. Being led to him, blindfolded, reaching one hand out to the sound of his voice. That’s all it took for his entire world to shift.

He quickly brought you inside, into your room. The faster you were inside, the faster he could take off your blindfold. He wanted you to see him too, to fall the same way he was falling now. He needed you to feel it too, so that he wouldn’t be alone.

Ray knows a lot. Yet, when you look at him for the first time, eyes wide and earnest, he finds that all his knowledge fails him. He can’t find the words to tell you how you make him feel, can’t make his body move the way he wants it to. All his movements are a bit jerky, his words stilted. He says too much, not enough.

It doesn’t seem to matter, though. As the days go on, you never stop greeting him with that warm smile, never stop telling him that you were thinking about him, never stop worrying for him.

He’s seeing you off at your room again, heart aching at the idea of having to leave you, when you reach for his hand. You intertwine your fingers with his and pull him back to you, a determined look on your face.

“Ray, before you go...just one thing...”

Your hand against the back of his neck, his breath coming in quick gasps. You’re suddenly closer to him than you have ever been, and his knees go weak. You look into his eyes, trying to find any hesitation. You won’t find any there, his whole body is begging you to come closer.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” he says, barely a whisper.

He expects you to be disappointed, but your smile doesn’t waver. “It’s okay. Neither have I.”

He should already know this. He knows everything about you. Yet, the confession makes him giddy.

You kiss him for the first time and it’s soft, your tentative lips pressed against his.

And oh, he knows nothing at all.

When he takes the elixir, he feels like his senses are amplified. He becomes more sensitive to sounds, lights, colours. The saviour always told him that it was the true beauty of the world being revealed to him.

It can’t be true. The world has never been brighter than it is now, even with his eyes closed. His skin has never burned like this. Your scent envelops him, and the world spins under his feet. Nothing could be more beautiful than you in this moment, kissing him so tenderly that he might melt.

It’s over too fast. You pull away to gauge his reaction, cheeks flushed and giggling, but he doesn’t let you go far. He moves his hand to mirror yours, his fingertips against the back of your neck, his thumb resting against your cheekbone. Your skin is soft against his and he’s thrilled to see the blush on your cheeks.

He may not know much, but he’s a fast learner. He pulls you back to him with a newfound confidence, his free hand cupping the other side of your face. Your hand slips up the back of his head and tangles into his hair as he kisses you again, deeper this time.

For you, he’s willing to learn everything again.

#kissing the rfa #mystic messenger #mystic messenger ray #mysme ray #mystic messenger saeran choi #mysme saeran choi #saeran choi #my writing

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

Note

Hi🙋🏾‍♀️ umm I like to request a Team Bucciarati x black!reader (she/her pronouns) where they react to hearing reader singing for the very first time😚.

The reader would sing like a Whitney Houston or a Mariah Carey song🙏🏽😩

It can be a fluff ☁️💓

Honey — Team Bucciarati x Black!fem reader

I was coming out the womb singing all of whitney’s discography but i’ve been listening to Honey recently so I guess I went for that instead!! enjoy 🫶🏾

“All we’ve got left to do for the upcoming week is to collect the protection money from the local groceries, Mama Verdo.”

Bucciarati ticked off a few names in his notepad before tapping the one right at the bottom. The rest of the team sat round the table, attentively listening to him.

“Maria said her son will be passing it on to us this time so be aware that the giver will be someone we don’t know. I trust her, but we don’t want a fast one being pulled on us either so be on your guard.” He finished.

“Do you suggest we do it three-maned?” Abbacchio queried, his arm draped over the back of Mista’s chair in a lazy fashion.

Nodding in agreement, Bucciarati confirmed his initial statement.

“I was thinking to do that, yes. Leone, would you mind taking Naranchia and Fugo with you?”

Abbacchio squinted his eyes in Bucciarati’s direction per his suggestion.

According to him, Bucciarati was well aware of the bickering nature the two younger boys shared, and even more so how it was amplified when they were out of the leader’s eyes. Abbacchio found it mildly annoying that he’d have to practically chaperone them whilst on a job but anything for Bruno, right?

Briefly glancing upwards, Abbacchio made a silent prayer for strength before looking back at his leader and grudgingly approving.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Bucciarati gave him a small smile, one Abbacchio knew was of grateful nature. Till this day, he wonders why he does so much for the man.

“Now that that’s sorted—”

Just then, the restaurant door bumped and then opened as you entered in with your face completely covered by boxes.

“Can someone help me with these?!” You muffled behind the several high towering packages.

Instantly, Giorno and Mista had gotten up to assist you with the boxes you had, unloading a few of them from you. As all three of you approached the table, Bucciarati placed his pen down to turn around and welcome your arrival.

“Welcome back, bella amor.”

“Hey, hey.” You replied as you placed the boxes on top of the table.

“What’s all this?” Fugo asked, his eyes already analytical inspecting the various packagings.

The others looked on with expressions that asked the same question. With a triumphant stance, you folded your arms over your chest before gesturing to yourself.

“This, is the type of treatment you get when you collect protection money with precision and care.”

“And what ‘treatment’ would that be?” Abbacchio quipped, his eyebrows frowning. With a snide smile, you mocked back at him.

“Appreciation, Leone, but I know you’re not too clued up about that stuff.”

“Oh, you’re so full of shit.” He grumbled.

“Is this all from one business or a group of them?” Giorno placed his pile of the boxes down onto the table while addressing the question to you.

“Yeah, it was a few of ‘em.”

“Bet you shook them down for this stuff, huh?”

The snickering comment came from the other side of the table, a shit-eating grin lacing the perpetrator’s face.

“No, Naranchia, I did not.” You emphasised as your eyes squinted accusingly in the boy’s direction.

Rather than stand down, Naranchia only squinted back at you, challenging you on your stance. Electrical fizzes may have fired between the two of you concerning how long you held each other’s eye contact.

Not being the biggest fan of inner-circle conflict, Bucciarati stood up from his seat as he proceeded to take a look at what was in the various boxes.

“Either way—” The leader stated firmly, his tone causing both you and Naranchia to look away from each other. “It was very kind of these various companies to offer us these amenities. Bella, make sure you take note of who gave what.”

With your attention now on Bucciarati, you nodded with assertion.

“Already have. I made a list of all the companies who passed on a gift so I’ve just to open things up and write them down.” You pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from your back pocket.

Bucciarati made a sound of approval. You hadn’t been with the team long but it was times like these where the mobster leader knew he made a good call in recruiting you.

“Good. Then let’s start opening these up.”

There was a joyous buzz within the restaurant space as the other members began to join in opening the gifts. Raising an already opened package, Mista pulled out a large assortment of Baci treats.

“This one?” He pointed it in your direction.

“From Il fornello, across the road.” You replied.

“What about these?” Giorno showed you the long tube of raw homemade spaghetti.

“Roma!”

The faces of the mobsters continued to widen with glee as they opened another gift. It was an assortment of different coloured jars but this time, Naranchia used little to no self control as he swiftly opened one of the bow wrapped jars, dipped his finger in it and tasted the substance.

“Oh! It tastes just like honey.” He garbled as he smacked his lips and went for more.

“That’s because it is honey.” Fugo could only scoff back.

Snapping your finger in Naranchia’s direction, you pointed at the man in sudden excitement.

“There’s a song that goes like that!”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Like honey something. Aw, man, I used to love that song. How it go?”

You pondered thoughtfully to yourself. No one was actively trying to guess the song you were thinking of — they doubt they’d have a clue to whatever you were referencing so they only passively kept an ear open for when you did remember.

After several seconds, you remembered.

“Okay, yeah! It goes And it’s just~ Like~ Honey! When your love~ comes~ over me.”

As soon as the sweet melody came out of your mouth, the other mobsters looked at you in disbelief. Seeing their rather blank and shocked expressions, you figured they weren't familiar with the song. Pouting, you gave them all a despondent look.

“You guys don’t know it?”

Several silent blinking eyes looked back at you all at one time but it was Bucciarati who spoke up first.

“I personally don’t know the song but…I never knew you sung, bella.”

With a changed face, you gave the leader a confused look. Everyone could sing to some extent so why did he see it as such a big deal?

“Well, of course not.” You made a pfft sound with your mouth. “Not like I’d go round preaching it, why would I do that?”

“I think what Bucciarati is trying to say is that you have a very angelic voice. He hadn’t expected it to be so beautiful.” Giorno soundly reiterated Bucciarati’s point for you, a few other heads nodding in agreement.

“Me neither, no offence.” Naranchia chirped in, honey residue riddled around his mouth.

With your heart warmly swelling and your skin starting to feel hot with pride, you bashfully shook your head at the statement.

“Oh, well thank you for that. I guess I didn’t say anything because I didn’t really think my voice was special enough to gloat over.” You muttered as you scratched the back of your neck.

“It’s definitely a gift. It’s not just anyone who can sing a Mariah song so effortlessly.” Abbacchio’s words surprised you and your face definitely showed it. Not only did he dish you a free compliment but he also recognised the song! Who knew he’d have such good taste?!

“Damn—I…thanks guys, really.”

A wide grin decorated Mista’s face as he nodded in your direction.

“You should definitely sing some more for us. I wanna hear what else you have in your roaster!”

The rest of the table agreed in a rumble of words, their encouragement causing your cheeks to bulge in excitement. Folding your arms over your chest, you gave them a speculative look.

“Alright! What you wanna hear next?”

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jojo x black reader #bruno buccerati #abbacchio leone #mista jjba #jojo narancia #fugo pannacotta #jjba giorno #jojo part 5

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musette22 · 2 years

Note

OMG I’m late to this fandom so I’ve never seen ‘the suspicious white stain’ pics 😂 please give me your headcanon on what went down that morning ?

And Happy Weekend !!

Oh nonnie, first of all, welcome to the fandom! 💗 And second of all, I’m so glad you asked because I actually do have a headcanon for that day…

I’ll put most of this under the cut, because it’s a little long and there are gifs and pics, too!

I’m thinking this was around the time in their relationship when Chris and Sebastian first started exploring some things, such as Sebastian’s desire to be to be good and to be praised, and Chris’s need to be in control. So, I think that after they’d done their photoshoot together at the venue where SDCC was held, and just before they started their autograph session, Chris had taken Sebastian aside and told him that if he behaved during the signing, if he was good until their lunch break, then he would get a reward...

Chris didn’t tell him at the time what that reward was going to be, but he assured Sebastian he’d like it, and Sebastian had never been let down by Chris before, so that was enough for him.

So Sebastian was on his best behavior during the autograph session, smiling and chatting with fans, (but not flirting, like he otherwise might have naturally done), sitting up straight, keeping his hands clasped and above the table, paying close attention to what Chris was doing so he wouldn’t miss any cues – and, of course, politely waiting his turn when signing the poster Chris signed before him.

Gif credit @petropascal

Chris was delighted by how perfectly Sebastian was behaving, so at one point, he grabbed him and pulled him closer, saying into Sebastian’s ear, “Oh, you are so getting your reward later.”

Gif credit @ditchthevillian-blog

When the session ended and they were all led backstage again for their lunch break, before the panel started, Chris led the way to one of the more remote, lesser used bathrooms that he’d scoped out earlier for this exact purpose, Sebastian following behind him, trying not to get his hopes up about his reward. And then, once Chris had locked the bathroom door behind them and turned to Sebastian, he raised an eyebrow and went, “On your knees, sweetheart.”

Sebastian, of course, immediately dropped to the floor, because a) he couldn’t deny an order like that, and b) he really didn’t want to because this was exactly what he’d been hoping for. They didn’t have much time, so they were quick and hungry about it, Sebastian giving it his all until Chris took over, fucking Sebastian’s throat til Seb’s eyes watered and he was about to come in his pants just from the way Chris controlled Sebastian’s movements, his taste and the heavy weight of him on his tongue which he'd come to love so much, not to mention the way Chris kept talking to him, telling him how good and how fucking perfect he was.

And then when Chris did come, he came hard, everything amplified by the illicitness and dirtiness of the situation, and even though Sebastian did his best to swallow it all, he didn't quite manage, some of it spilling down his chin and dripping onto his jeans (they thought they got that spot when they got cleaned up after, but unbeknownst to them, once it dried, it became visible again)

Before they left the bathrooms, Chris kissed Sebastian thoroughly, and promised that if Seb could just make it through the panel without letting on that anything had happened during their lunch break, Chris would return the favor once they were back at their hotel that evening, and he would do anything Sebastian wanted him to do. Anything. So, Sebastian suppressed the urge to protest, and instead focused all his energy on willing down his hard-on, because he was literally about to go on stage before hundreds of people and was expected to answer questions about the movie and his acting and all sorts of stuff he couldn't even wrap his muddled, fucked-out brain around right then.

Later on, Sebastian took his seat and the panel first, and when Chris came on a few moments later, despite the fact that Seb knew he was supposed to be all cool and normal, he couldn’t help proudly watch Chris as he walked by. Chris, for his part, couldn’t help but look back at Seb, reaching out and touch Sebastian’s back as he passed behind him, just because they both needed that moment of contact.

Gif credit @petropascal

And even though Scarlett was seated between them during the panel, Chris and Sebastian kept shooting furtive glances at each other, both of them eager for the moment this event would be over and they could go back to their hotel and finally be alone together…

Gif credit @bowie28

And there you have it, my headcanon for what happened at SDCC 2013! I have no idea in which order the events of that day actually happened, and if anyone does and it’s not like I’m describing here then please do not let me know, because I like this version of events thank you :p

Bonus:

Sebastian coyly tucking his hair behind his ear while talking to Chris...

Gif credit @bowie28

...and the two of them taking this adorable couple's pic together 🥰

The End.

#evanstan #rpf #sdcc #I also love that Seb was dressed like a bad boy that day #and Chris like a Head boy #and yet you know their dynamic is something entirely different…#minnie answers

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b-ritney · 2 years

Text

ECSTASY

I love a good sober love sesh (not that id know ive never done it) but I’ve been toying with the idea of Eddie suggesting you guys try taking ecstasy before sex he wants you to feel the heightened sensations but you worry something might go wrong so he offers to stay sober while you trip so he can help you if something goes wrong. This is between two consenting adults in an established relationship. (I in no way encourage this behavior, you should never leave yourself at the mercy of someone else no matter how well you know them. Stay safe out there lovelies.)

This is inspired by 2 other fics, one was taking ecstasy with Axl Rose which is on Wattpad, and another one with Eddie on this platform which I will put link here, https://at.tumblr.com/ohcaptains/take-the-edge-off/5s275rhehnp9. It's called "Take The Edge Off" If you like my fic, you'll like theirs better guaranteed, it's AMAZING.

Warnings: drug use, spit, fingering, slight choking, slight spanking, P in V, sub naïve reader, experienced Eddie, mentions of anxiety.

Side note: (I will NEVER EVER sexualize being taken advantage of, my characters will always be informed and consciously aware of what to expect in encounters like this.)

Summary: I- I got nothing it’s fucking Monday and I’m out here writing filth like I don’t have 2 exams this week.

#############################################

After a long week at school, there is nothing you wanted more than for your boyfriend to ravage you and work out all of your aggression with his own, but instead, you and Eddie took a drive after school, just to feel the fresh fall breeze; he knows how much it calms your anxiety. Once you got to his trailer Wayne had already left for the night, leaving you to yourselves for the evening. You threw down your bag and huffed as the pressure released from your shoulders; " I swear that thing gets heavier every day." you say rubbing your neck. Eddie wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder; " I'm sure it does considering you have my homework in there too!" He laughs kissing you on the cheek. You giggle as his hair tickles you, he begins poking your sides making you double over in laughter. "Ahhh Eddie!!" You shriek, you sprint down the hallway, shamefully realizing you've cornered yourself in his room.

He tackled you onto his bed, careful not to crush you with his full body weight. "UNCLE UNCLE!" you yell.

"I don't think so." he laughs pinning your arms above your head. The mood shifts a little and you can't help but feel this is a little cliche but kind of sexy. He must feel it too because he kisses you.

"I love you." he says against your lips.

"I love you too, Eddie."

He lays off to your side on one elbow tracing your body with his eyes; "What's up babe?" His eyes snap up to meet yours.

" I've just been thinking about trying something with you but I wasn't sure if you'd be cool with it." You sit up and he follows.

"Oh, well, I'm all ears, this is always interesting." you snickered.

" I'm serious babe," he said tucking your hair behind your ear, "a while back I tried taking ecstasy while I was umm.. thinking about you; and it made me wonder if you'd want to try it while we were uh well you know." You tilt your head, "

"I'm lost."

"I want to get high and fuck you." his crass words made you swallow.

"Uhh I mean, if you've done it before then I'm ok with it."

He smiled, " Are you sure? I know the drugs throw you off sometimes."

"Wha- what are the effects?" you inquired, Eddie could sense your apprehensiveness and pulled your back flush with his chest against the headboard, stroking up and down your sides, his breath warm against your neck.

"You'll take less than half of a pill, and it will make you all warm and fuzzy, and everything will feel... more."

"More?"

"Yeah, every touch, every kiss, every word even, will feel amplified by like 50 times."

"That doesn't sound too scary." you say nuzzling into his chest.

"I want to make sure you're sure, because with your anxiety it may twist differently than it does with me."

"Well, what if something goes wrong? How can we fix it if both of us are loaded?"

"How about this, since I've already done it a few times, why don't you take it and I'll stay grounded just in case."

"You'll miss out though?

"Don't worry about me sweetheart, if it goes well we can try again."

"Ok."

"You're one hundred percent sure?"

"YES! Eddie come on, please just do something," you say turning over in his lap, straddling him.

"Relax baby, you've gotta take the magic meds." He reached over to his bedside table and with one hand opened the drawer, pulling out a small baggie labeled MDMA he reached inside and pulled out a fourth of a single pill; setting the bag on the table. "You ready?"

You nodded excitedly, he looked you in the eyes, raising the drug to his mouth and placing it on his tongue. He laced his hand around the back of your neck bringing you to meet his lips. Pushing the sliver of Ecstasy in your mouth with a deep and slow french kiss.

You involuntarily rocked your hips into his, the anticipation for what was to come made your heart race.

"Slow down," he snickered while he sucked bruises into the soft flesh of your neck, "give it a few minutes to kick in."

You held each other for what felt like hours, slowly undressing until you were both down to your underwear. Eddie worshiped you, kissing every inch of skin he could reach, extending your arms to peck from your fingertips to your shoulders. Holding your ankle to kiss from the top of your foot all the way to your hips. When he got to your belly you started to giggle uncontrollably. When Eddie looked up you were staring at the ceiling laughing at nothing. He crawled above you to hover over your face. "Sweetheart, you still with me?," he tilted his head laughing himself at your giddiness.

"Depends, what plane of existence are you on?"

"Leave it to you to ask existential questions when you're fucked up." he laughed leaning down to capture your lips again.

"Eddie please don't stop,... every time you touch me it feels electric."

"I'm copyrighting that as a song lyric," he said while he picked up again at your panty line.

"You better give me credit"

"Princess, the song will be about you." he said through gritted teeth as he pulled the waistband of your underwear, making you jump when it snapped back into place.

"Eddiiiie" you whined, "please do something I need you."

"Now that it's in your system you've gotta remember to use your words in case it gets to be too much, understand."

You nod. He pops your thigh lightly.

"What did I just say?"

"To use my words."

"Good girl." He stands above you, wrapping his hands behind your knees to violently yank you forward to the edge of the bed. He slowly pulled your blue lace panties down your legs. You felt every trace of the fabric moving across your skin, brushing the fine invisible hairs covering your body as if you were running your hand through blades of grass. The feeling made goosebumps in their wake causing you to shiver with eagerness. Eddie tossed the garment, and bent your knees together up to your chest, leaning forward to place gentle kisses on each of them, "you still doin' ok?"

"Y-yes," you let out shakily, "I love you."

"I love you more."

He parted your legs, staying eye level with you, to try and relax your racing heart. "You're so beautiful." he kissed your nose.

He reached down and started rubbing tight circles on your clit, causing you to arch your chest into Eddie's from the overwhelming sensation.

"Ahhh E-Eddie"

"Shh I know, I know, just breathe."

The feeling was like nothing you have ever experienced, even the lightest touch made you see stars. He brought his hand back up to your mouth. "Open." he rested his middle and ring fingers on your bottom lip, he slid his fingers in as you swirled your tongue around them. He left them there a few seconds until he was satisfied, then put them back at your soaked core. Slowly he ran his digits up and down between your folds before pushing inside to his knuckles, muffling your elated moans with a searing kiss.

"More, please," you begged, "It feels so good."

"Needy little thing."

He started pumping them in and out all the way, rubbing your clit with his thumb. He had to get to the floor and hold your thigh to keep you from retreating. Without warning, he replaced his thumb with his lips, sucking harshly. You cried out, feeling tears prick your eyes. "Aww baby already?"

"Eddie please- please." He didn't respond he just laughed with his lips around your sensitive bud, the vibrations making you tremble. You feel like your fucking soul escaped you for a brief second. Every movement of his fingers felt incredible, an indescribable bliss. He withdrew them, much to your frustration, just to aggressively lap at you with his tongue, reaching up your body to expertly shove your bra up above your tits. With one hand he began kneading your right breast, twisting your nipple in between his fingers. You began grinding on his face. "God it feels so good." you whimpered shaking. Eddie could barely contain himself you were so adorably agitated, he needed to be inside of you. He stood up undoing his belt, "Why'd you stop?" You cried in a drawn-out whine.

"Aren't you ready for my cock?" you nodded again, Eddie only had to raise an eyebrow before you realized your mistake.

"Yes- Yes please."

"Atta girl," he reached into the same drawer and opened a small foil package, holding it in his teeth as he pulled his pants the rest of the way down, he rolled the condom down his shaft, dropping his head from the feeling. He looked up to realize you were covering your face, "You nervous?" he said peeling your arms from eyes.

"Yes"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No-No.. just please go slow."

"I'll be so gentle baby, I promise."

"Okay" you managed to whisper. Eddie ducked down and sucked on your nipples, giving proper attention to each one as you writhed underneath him. He kissed you on the lips one more time before going back down to spit on your pussy, the sound of it making you shudder with anticipation, licking his fingers he spread it thoroughly through your folds. Then he positioned himself at your entrance, running his cock up and down a few times. He rested his forehead against yours, keeping eye contact as he pushed in, deeper and deeper until his hips connected with yours. You tried to keep your eyes locked on his but it was just so much, you could feel every ridge every vein, every beat of his heart it was so intoxicating. You threw your head back in a silent scream, he picked up the pace slightly, burying his head in your neck, whispering praises.

"Eddieeee, fuckkk!, harder please- please." you wail. He happily complies, lifting one of your legs to rest on his hip, as he leaned forward resting his free hand on the mattress beside you. Driving deeper and deeper. The pressure in the pit of your stomach began to build quickly. "I- I'm so close," you whimper, reaching out to cup his face in a yearning kiss.

"Me too, can you hold it baby?"

You can't respond, the pleasure overcoming you, you forget your name, you forget everything except him and the way he feels. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you twist away from him. he keeps you in place with a light grip on your throat. Tears roll down your cheeks, Eddie kisses them away, "Come on pretty girl, cum for me."

It hit you like a FUCKING title wave. You felt frozen yet your body was convulsing, as Eddie's hips faltered, finishing in the condom. He fucked you through it, when your body stilled he pulled out, and threw out the rubber. "Don't go Eddie please, don't go." You cried curling into yourself, the intensity of your orgasm making your brain foggy.

"I'm right here sweetheart, it's ok, I'm not going anywhere." he brushed your sweaty hair away from your face. Rubbing your side, laying next to you. You wrapped around him, and he clung to you just as tight, rolling over, firmly rubbing up and down your back. "Let's get you showered and sobered up."

"How do you do that?" you asked tilting your head up to face him.

"Step one, we order pizza,"

"and step two?" you coax

"We cuddle for the rest of the night until you fall asleep safely in my arms." He smiled down at you. You giggled happily as you both stood walking hand in hand to the much-needed shower.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMFG this is honestly so refreshing from writing college essays... hope this holds you over until I finish the Billy fic. Stay freaky, B. <3

#eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie stranger things #rocknroll #smut #eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie my love #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things season 4 #st 4

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