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#Pretty sure there's another one that does too
serafilms · 2 days
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FIRST DATE, KINDA NERVOUS
part 2 of the golden quartet
art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader
summary: the story of your first kiss with art donaldson in a hotel room, and your first date in a diner. cute, fluffy, healthy, a tiny bit suggestive but not really. group polyamory dynamics hinted at. (play: so high school by taylor swift). wc: 3.5k
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“What do you think?”
You shrugged. “They’re cute, they seem nice, and your backhand is like, a million times stronger than theirs, so I reckon you could take them in a fight.”
“What, you wouldn’t help?”
“Please. I’m too weak for that,” you said, shaking your wrist limply in Tashi’s face.
She rolled her eyes at you and pushed it out of the way. “Whatever, fine. We’re going.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. After showering, the straight hair from the party had disappeared, giving way to her natural waves. You always thought she looked prettier this way. Softer, somehow.
“Yay,” you said simply. “But just remember that my parents placed my safety and care in your hands, so if we get, like, murdered or something—”
“Oh, shut up,” Tashi groaned, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth, “you were just endorsing them.”
“Yeah, well. I’m indecisive.”
The smile that slowly spread across Tashi’s face told you all you needed to know. Ten seconds later you had grabbed and shrugged on your jacket and the two of you were climbing your way out of her bedroom window.
Now, you’re sitting on the floor of a hotel room, Tashi on your left and Art on your right, Patrick laying comfortably across from you, propped up by his elbows.
The beer in your hand is pretty shitty, which is a fact you find odd considering you can only assume it was either stolen from one of their parents, or paid for using a bribe, and in both of those cases, wouldn’t the beer be better?
But maybe that’s not what you should be focusing on right now, you think, as Patrick leans forwards to take it from your hand. His fingers brush yours as the can crosses over. For the last hour or so, the four of you have gone through eleven cans of beer, each consumed one at a time, being passed around like a bong.
Your eyes linger on the way Patrick’s mouth engulfs the opening of the can, right where yours had just been, and the way he passes it right to Tashi, who does the same as she takes a sip. The flush of heat in your face and belly are hard to ignore, and you’re not too sure how much of it can be attributed to the alcohol.
There’s a stutter in your chest as Art nudges you with his elbow. “So what are you planning on majoring in?”
His cheeks and ears also look flushed, but you think that might just be a consequence of the story Patrick told earlier. It was a sweet story; you assured the boy next to you of that when he’d buried his face in his hands, but he still seemed a little perturbed.
It was a sweet story though, you muse. Tashi said that they seemed like brothers, but you thought they seemed like they were an old married couple.
You’re brought back out of your thoughts as Tashi hands you the beer. “Oh, um. I’m not too set on anything yet, but I think maybe journalism.”
Patrick lets out a whistle. “What, not physiotherapy or sports medicine?”
You shrug, and before you can stop yourself, you say, “Just because I was a tennis player doesn’t mean it’s my whole personality.”
Immediately, you wince. Wrong place, wrong time. You steal a quick glance at Tashi, but she seems unaffected. Right. It’s Tashi. The last thing she feels is insecure. She simply looks at you.
But for good measure, you add, “I mean, I can still do sports news, or something.”
Against the better judgement of your burning stomach and your sluggish thoughts, you take another swig and then pass the can to Art.
“Journalism suits you,” he comments quietly as he takes it. You give him a small smile. He takes a small sip of the beer, and you can’t help but watch the way his Adam’s apple shifts when he swallows.
“I need some ice,” announces Tashi. She rises from her position on the floor.
Patrick wastes no time in scrambling up too. “I’ll come with!”
Tashi gives you a look like she’s exasperated, but you know better from the way she waits for Patrick to grab his key and open the door for her. She doesn’t look back as she walks out, but Patrick calls out a teasing, “See you guys later,” before the door closes fully.
When you turn your head towards Art, you see that he’s looking right at you.
“You sure do that a lot,” you mumble.
He smiles in a way that seems endeared and a little confused. “What?”
“Stare.”
“Sorry, I just—”
“No, no, it’s fine. It’s nice. I- I, uh.” Your thoughts are racing, everywhere and nowhere all at once, as you struggle to find the words. The way Art looks at you sends a buzz of something in your abdomen, and your mind becomes all the more scrambled. “I need to stand up.”
You stand quickly, maybe too quickly, and immediately stumble.
“Whoa, you okay?” Art’s quick to jump to his feet. His hands find their place on either side of your waist to steady you. Now you really can’t focus.
“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “I think I should sit down instead.”
You’re very aware of the fact that his hand stays on your waist as you bumble over to the edge of the bed and take a seat.
There’s a pang of disappointment when his hand leaves your waist, and another when he stands unsurely in front of you. You pat the spot next to you.
“Sit. Please.”
He complies. Perched on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, he’s much closer than when you were sitting on the floor together. You fiddle with your hands and steal glances at him every now and then.
“I wanted to ask you,” Art breaks the silence, “do you ever miss it?”
You don’t need to ask what he means by ‘it.’
There’s a moment where you gaze off, eyes wandering towards the door, before they return to the boy next to you and you shake your head.
“I don’t, not really.” You bite the inside of your cheek in thought. “It was fun for a while, and I liked being good at something, but I think I just fell out of love with it after a while. Like my whole life became just tennis, and thinking about a future in tennis. If I’m being honest, the injury was like a miracle to me.”
Art looks thoughtful at that. “What’s so wrong with a life of tennis?”
“Well. I mean, nothing, I guess. It just took a lot more time and effort than I would’ve liked. And there’s all the things I had to give up for it.”
He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue, so you do. “Cheeseburgers, sleeping in. Love.”
The bed dips closer to you as he shuffles a little closer. It prompts you to look back up at him.
The curls on his forehead hang low, just over his eyes. His hand rests just next to your thigh, and he rests his weight on it to lean just a bit closer. “You don’t think you can be in love and play tennis at the same time?”
Art’s presence has a magnetic effect on you. There’s a gravitational pull that has you angling your body towards him and moving ever so slightly closer to him.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
His eyes dart down to your lips. It’s an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards as you do the same. You can almost feel the warmth of his exhale as your faces draw closer and closer.
“Can I?” Art whispers.
“Please,” you respond.
His hand comes off the bed to rest on your cheek, and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft, gentle, but there’s an urgency in the way his tongue teases the entrance of your lips, and the way he moves even closer towards you, almost as if he’s chasing you.
Your hands find themselves at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand moves to rest on your waist. Then your thigh. You let out a hum as your stomach does a little leap. Then, he pulls away for a fraction of a second to take you in, before his lips are on yours again. It’s electric, when he tilts his head slightly to the other side, when the hand on your cheek slides down to your jaw to bring you closer, when you hear a low groan in the base of his throat as his hand slides to the inner part of your thigh.
Then you hear the key at the door, and you both jump apart.
Tashi has a cup of ice water in her hand when she surveys the scene in front of her.
Your bodies are still angled suspiciously towards each other and your hands both rest awkwardly in your laps. Little is left to the imagination. You can still feel the butterflies in your stomach and the racing of your heart when Patrick raises his eyebrows at the two of you, a grin on his face.
“So,” he begins, “what have you guys been up to?”
Art and you speak at the same time. “Oh, you know, nothing much.” “Just chilling.”
Tashi’s face is thoughtful, as she looks at you and her lips quirk up in a smile. She nods her head to the door behind her. “Well, it’s late. We should go.”
Your eyes dart back and forth between the three people in the room. Slowly, you stand, giving Art an awkward kind of smile as you brush past him.
“Wait,” Patrick exclaims, “can I get your phone number?”
She shrugs back at him, holding the door open. “Play some real tennis tomorrow, and then I’ll give you my number.”
“So like, if I win?”
“You don’t have to win to play well.”
You’re not sure where this leaves you and Art in the mix, but Tashi is looking at you expectantly from the doorway, and you fear you don’t have the time to decide now. With an apologetic look and a wave, you mutter, “See you guys,” and then you’re out the door.
In the end, Patrick does win. He gives a flourishing bow as Tashi shrugs and applauds him. She turns to whisper something in your ear, but the words make no contact with your thoughts. As Art looks dejectedly at his racket, then at his best friend across the court, you stand abruptly. Tashi looks at you, bewildered.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, I was—”
Whatever her next words are, they die in her throat as she sighs and watches you thread your way through the stands and go down the stairs to the side of the court.
“Hey!” you call out. Art’s head perks up and his eyes search for the source of the sound until they land on you. He jogs to meet you.
“Hi.”
“Um,” you say, feeling suddenly like your foot has been shoved into your mouth, “you did really well.”
Art looks at you deadpan, but a smile starts to show in his eyes. “I lost.”
“Still, you were really good.” Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you start to regret coming over so hastily without planning what to say.
“Well, thanks. Really. It means a lot coming from you.” Looking back up, you see him scratching the back of his head nervously. It’s an odd look, considering he’s also drenched in sweat, and his glistening skin makes him look even more nervous than he is. “Look, uh. I know we didn’t make a deal or anything, but do you think I could get your number?”
Maybe this wasn’t such a mistake. “Yeah, I think I could make that happen.”
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SIX WEEKS LATER.
God, you’re stressed right now. The hem of your top has fallen victim to your incessant fiddling as you tug at it, scrunch it up, release it and repeat.
“You’re acting like it’s your first date ever,” Tashi says, rolling her eyes. There’s a smile playing at her lips that tells you she isn’t trying to be as mean as she sounds.
“He’s cute, okay? I’m nervous.”
Tashi comes up behind you and you meet her eyes in the mirror. A shiver runs down your spine as she tugs at the collar of your jacket, knuckles brushing your neck in the process.
“You should take this off.”
“What? Why?” You stare at her reflection. “I know it’s still summer, but it’s nighttime, so­ like…” Her deadpan expression has you trailing off. “What?”
“You can wear his jacket instead.”
There’s a hollow silence as your mouth forms an ‘o’. Your fingers move to tug at the sleeves of the jacket, gaze averted from hers for a moment.
“You think he’ll offer?”
Another eye roll. “The guy’s like, obsessed with you. Of course he’ll offer. Doesn’t hurt to throw in a little shiver either.”
“What if he’s not wearing a jacket?”
“Oh, he’s wearing a jacket.” She waves her cell phone in your face. “Patrick texted me an update.”
You grin and shrug off the jacket as you turn to face her. “Who knew Tashi Duncan was such a sucker for clichés?”
“I’m just trying to make sure your date goes well,” Tashi scoffs as she snatches the jacket from your hands. “You’re the one who swoons every time you watch a romcom.”
She’s right about that one.
Tashi smacks her lips as she hangs your jacket back up in your closet. “I still don’t get why you’re so nervous. I thought we broke all the ice at the hotel.”
“Well, I can still be nervous. Just because you and Patrick had sex two weeks ago doesn’t mean I have to be as confident.”
She sighs because you’re right. Tonight is your first date. With Art. Not your first date ever. But you sure do feel nervous enough to pretend it is.
You and Art have been texting nonstop for the last six weeks, but between the odd part time jobs you’ve picked up over the summer and his tennis training, you haven’t had any time to hang out, unless your best friends who managed to squeeze in their first date, first time and first sleepover together all in one go. But Tashi and Patrick are much more go getter than you.
Tashi didn’t give you shit for your lack of fervour in pursuing whatever relationship you and Art had, but you still felt a little perturbed when she called you the day after her night with Patrick, and told you that he’d asked about you guys.
(“Does he not talk to Art about it?” you asked.
“He said Art’s happy, but he wanted to know how things were going on your end. Since you guys have only been texting.”)
So now you feel pressured. Like somehow your relationship is linked to Patrick and Tashi. Like they’re waiting for you guys to catch up.
But you don’t say any of that. Because you want things to go at your own pace, you keep quiet. Because you don’t want to speak it into existence, even if Tashi will roll her eyes and call you ridiculous for it because she knows your life is yours and hers is hers, despite the way she keeps trying to push you in certain directions.
When the doorbell inevitably rings, you and Tashi exchange looks. She gives you a nod. It’s more firm than comforting, like she’s sending you off to play at Wimbledon and she knows you’re going to win.
Your parents aren’t home for the next few days, which is why you strategically planned your date for tonight, because God forbid they use their last few weeks with you living under their roof to embarrass you in front of a guy. You almost expect Tashi to answer the door for you as if she’s your mother, but instead, she shoves your bag in your chest, says, “I’m using your shampoo and eating all your snacks,” and pushes you out of the bedroom door, then closes it.
One last check in the nearest reflective surface, and you’re ready.
Art is dressed casually, like you, in jeans and a polo. Tashi was right in saying that he would wear a jacket. In the light of your front porch, he looks especially gentle, the warm light threading through his hair like a halo.
The smile that lights up his face when you open the door has the potential to end your whole bloodline, you swear. The way your heart rate picks up feels like some kind of fight or flight response, but you’re willing to ignore it all for him.
“Hey,” he says. His voice has a comforting cadence, you think. It’s been six weeks since you’ve last heard it, since you were always too scared to call him. But it’s a sound like coming home.
“Hi,” you speak softly.
There’s a bouquet in his hands, which he holds out to you, one hand tucked in his jeans. “I brought these for you.”
You take them gingerly, trying to fight the grin that threatens to split your face in half. He’s so cute. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
You put them on the table just inside. Tashi will eventually make her way downstairs and put them in some water for you. Closing the door, you turn back to Art, who holds his hand out to you. It’s such a strangely innocent gesture that you almost catch yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Shall we?”
You take it, grinning like a madman. “We shall.”
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“I never got to hear what you want to major in.” The fry in your hand is currently being waved around as though you’re conducting an orchestra.
“Oh. I don’t know,” Art averts his eyes to his plate. “I haven’t thought about it much.”
“I won’t judge,” you prompt gently.
He looks contemplative, and wets his bottom lip with his tongue briefly before looking up at you. “Okay.”
“Okay…” You gesture your fry towards him.
“You promise you won’t judge?” He asks, bobbing his head questioningly at you
You lean towards the table with your hand over your heart. “I swear it.”
“Physics. Or engineering.”
Sitting back in your seat, you survey him.
“That suits you,” you say genuinely. After you’ve said the words, you’re reminded all too well of the night in the hotel room again, and your cheeks warm.
“Thanks,” Art says, gazing at you. “Patrick says that too, before he calls me a loser.”
“I’m guessing you’re more studious than he is.”
“You’d be right.”
Another sip of your milkshake. “I think it’s cool. Maybe we’ll even have some classes together.”
Art smiles his eye-crinkling smile across the table. “Yeah, maybe we will.”
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You don’t even need to pretend to shiver. The second you’ve stepped out of the restaurant, Art’s jacket is slipped onto your shoulders. It’s warm, and smells faintly like sandalwood mixed with laundry detergent. You resist the urge to inhale the collar. Instead you smile shyly, and take his hand. There’s a knot forming in your chest at the thought of the night being over, but when the two of you reach his car, Art doesn’t take out his keys. He turns and leans against the side of his car, hand still entwined with your own.
“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says simply.
Your lips quirk up in amusement. “So did I.”
He hums. Your hands are swung from side to side as he looks down at them. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you step closer.
“What are you thinking about?” you whisper. You know what he’s thinking about.
He looks down at you, and does a one shoulder shrug. “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”
Your heart stops and gets jumpstarted again in the span of about six milliseconds. God. You knew it was coming, but you still couldn’t prepare yourself.
“Not asking anymore, are we?” You grin, chest thumping like crazy.
“Oh, come on.” With a tug on your hand, you’re pulled flush against him, chest to chest.
Art leans in to your ear, and whispers as if divulging a well-kept secret. “May I please kiss you?”
The tickle of his breath over your jaw sends a zap of electricity through every single nerve in your body. Your breath hitches. “You may.”
You’re not sure you’ll ever get sick of Art Donaldson’s smile. The curve of his mouth as he leans in, brushing his nose to yours before your lips meet.
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Your computer pings.
Patrick Zweig sent you a friend request.
You raise an eyebrow and hit ‘accept.’
A minute later, there’s another notification.
Patrick Zweig wrote on your wall. “Congratulations on a successful first date with @Art Donaldson! 😘”.
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dunmeshistash · 2 days
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Do you happen to know why the pupils of some elves are white instead of black? I thought it was another sign of being a half-elf with Marcille but it looks like a few of the Canaries have them too…?
Pretty sure it's just a design choice to show they have striking eyes? Apparently "unusual" eyes are common for elves, it's mentioned a few times like how Mithrun's family is known for silver eyes and hair, Thistle has 'Thistle Flower' colored eyes, and the queen has obsidian skin and Red eyes.
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Here's a page with lots of character's eyes
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Kui does a lot of variation like pupil. no pupil. shine. no shine. multiple shines etc, seems more for characterization than anything else. Fleki has the strangest ones if you ask me, with that ring light effect in the shine.
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lamourdelore · 1 day
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❝ THE NIGHT WE MET ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !
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it's here! the first installment of a series i've had the pleasure of creating with emi. thank you to my muse, the wonderfully brilliant @abbyscherry. we've put our blood, tears, and all of our queerness into this. happy to post and get this out there. in the future, there will be many parts to follow! enjoy <3
tags. eighteen+, nsfw themes, sexual innudenos, masc!reader.
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it’s typical. the basement fills with smoke in the air, nearly anyone is on something. the anxious feeling ties in her stomach, lacing a hint of restlessness in her nerves, making her more sick than she needed to be. too much, too fucking much. a moment needed to find her own heartbeat. she allows the smell of weed to fill her lungs when she steps in. she personally doesn’t really know anyone. 
except you. she’s too nervous to make any type of introduction. you’re not really friends. no. abby just knows of them and she’s almost positive you don’t know of her. these type of parties always occur on friday night in the warmth of spring? never white of her radar. 
but even she has to admit, it seems nice. 
everyone’s smoking, chilling, having a good time and abby comes down there for a hit but everyone is occupying any space to sit. anxiety wraps around her neck, an unsettling feeling, so she decides to head elsewhere until she hears an unfamiliar voice. their voice extends to her like sweet honey she’s dying to taste. “abby, do you wanna hit?” abby nearly starts hyperventilating because you know her name. she nods “i, um, i was just doing to head upstairs. nowhere to sit.” abby shrugs nonchalantly. “if you want to take me up on it, my thighs are available for you, baby.” 
fucking crimson red. abby knows her cheeks resemble the color. she’s done for. one conversation and she’s practically on the floor. you take another hit, the smoke filtering out of your irresistible lips into the foggy air. you slouch further as you open your thighs even more, abby’s gaze flickers to your crotch before meeting your eyes once again. she’s never seen anyone smirk so proudly. you’ve got her right where you want her, hardly having to move an inch to catch anyone’s attention. abby isn’t any different. 
“‘m too big. it’s fine, i’ll just go back up.” you’re frowning. eyebrows raised as if it’s a challenge. 
“well, maybe for some of the other girls who like to hang around with you,” abby’s confused. have you been watching her? oh god. “but certainly not for me. so, why don’t you be a good girl and take a seat.”
with caution, slowly, she’s making her way over to you. each sends a shiver up her spine. what the actual fuck are you doing to her? taking another hit from your blunt as your eyes never leave her. watching as she adorably walks up to you. when she’s close enough, standing right in front of you, you’re whispering softly and only she can hear “sit down on my lap, pretty girl. i got you.” the second she does, it’s heaven on earth. 
“are you sure i’m not too…heavy?” abby questions. she’s always been quite conscious of her size. tall, built, but you don’t seem to mind. “light as a feather, babygirl.” passing for a moment you ask her if she wants a hit. her eyebrows burrow at the small, the rolled blunt in your hands. “just weed baby, but don’t feel pressured.” abby nods in acceptance. you reassure her as you slide one of your huge hands on abby’s thigh, rubbing slowly as the other becomes occupied by holding the blunt up to her lips, and asking every few seconds if she was okay, and if she wants to keep smoking more or stop. 
abby’s hair is down, but it’s in the way of seeing her freckled face so you whisper in abby’s ear “baby, is it okay if i move your hair to the side? wanna see your pretty face when i talk to you.”  abby fumbles over her words like a lovestruck idiot. “yeah, um, you can move it.” she feels their fingertips graze her neck as her blonde locks are pushed to the side. she whines at the loss of your lips pressed against her ear, but oc isn’t going to comment on it. yet. “so much better, baby. now i can appreciate just how beautiful you are.”
abby’s noticing all the glances thrown your way the longer she sits practically on you and gets a sudden confidence boost and leans back into your chest— your hard, defined chest, that she can feel, and her cheeks redden if that’s even possible when you’re arm is tightening around her waist, holding her protectively as your eyes harden, glaring at everyone staring. “want another?” you mumbled, lips grazing the shell of her ear, the hotness of your breath sending shivers down her spine. 
“m’okay for now” she smiled shyly, fingers reaching out to fumble with the ones you had around her, playing with them for a few seconds before looking around, the buzz of smoking going to her head a little. “s’cool”
“hm?” you’re chuckling, moving your head at a better angle to see her. “what’s cool, pretty girl?”
“my head’s fuzzy” abby giggled, eyes fluttering closed as she slumped her head back against your shoulder. “s’good though. feels good. i like it” she smiled.
“yeah?” you chuckled against her ear, hand creeping up her shirt and you rubbed her skin gently. slowly. comfortingly. “s’that good, pretty girl? you want anymore or are you done?”
“don’t think i can handle anymore” she mumbled, tired all of a sudden. 
“s’okay” you smiled, leaning back, her body following and getting more comfortable. her cheeks are flushed again, glad she’s facing away from you so you can’t see how flustered she really is over your touches and words. “want me to get you a drink? beer? water—”
abby lifts her head and her blue eyes sparkle when she’s turning around in your lap to look at you, giving you a good view of her crimson cheeks and you can’t help but smirk down at her. “no, m’comfortable” she pouted.
“s’good, don’t want you to be uncomfortable” you’re talking to her, and abby swears she’s trying to pay attention to what you’re saying, but she’s more focused on your voice itself. At how raspy yet soft it is. how gentle it sounds against her ear. almost whining at the subtle touch of you pushing her hair to the side again, fingertips ghostly brushing against the skin of her neck. sending shivers down her spine. 
she hates the way she can’t control the little sound she let’s out when your nose runs up and down on the side of her neck, smiling smugly against her like you already know what you’re doing to her. “wanna do something?”
her eyebrows furrow, lips forming into a pout as she turns her head to look at you. “do what?”
abby’s cunt clenches around nothing when your face is suddenly so much closer to hers, a smirk forming on your lips at her confusion. “body shots” 
“b-body shots?” she’s stammering, unsure if you’re being serious or not. “with you?”
licking your lips, you finish smoking and chuckle at her, the smoke cloud showing just enough of your face for her to see. “yeah, baby. body shots, with me” 
“now?” 
her face flushes even more red, if that was possible when you chuckled, but nodded nonetheless. “yes now, if you want to, the choice is all yours but i’d like to”
why was she nervous all over again? was it the way you were looking at her? was it the way you were smiling, tucking strands of hair behind her ear? or the way your breath fanned against her lips and it made her want to suddenly to kiss you? it could be any of those reasons, or all.
“um—” she giggled, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, and nodded shyly at you. “yes, please”
with a pat on her side from your hand, abby stumbled off your lap, almost falling over her own feet in the process and couldn’t help but laugh loudly when you’re reaching out, wrapping your arm around her waist that she giggles uncontrollably into your chest. “m’sorry” she manages to get out amongst her small giggle fit.
her giggle had you laughing, holding her tightly in your arms. “are you okay?” you choked out, a few tears ran down your face as you slipped your hand up her shirt, and rubbed her back slowly. helping her calm down in a way you somehow knew would work. “you wanna get some air before?”
“no. i wanna do it with you”
“oh?” you smirked, chuckling under your breath.
“what? no! n-not like that!” abby shook her head with another stammer that made you laugh, lifting her head up, and blinking repeatedly under the lights. “wait that came out mean, i didn’t mean—”
“pretty girl, relax, s’okay”
abby felt her confidence grow as she walked away from the large crowd. your hand resting protectively on her lower back, making sure no one gets too close to her, and your eyes darted around, wanting her to have the best night possible and no get randomly bombarded with other people. 
she chose you to spend her night with. 
you weren’t going to let anyone ruin it. 
interlocking your fingers with hers, you cocked your head to the side, eyeing up the few that were in the kitchen. drinking and giggling away, probably high out their mind and not really sure what was going on anymore. too high to give a shit that you were both standing there, waiting for them to leave. which made a smirk appear on your lips when abby’s giggling again behind you, trying her hardest to stifle the sounds upon your sudden cough, a small hint for them to get out. “thank you” you bowed sarcastically as their quickly rushing out the kitchen, still laughing to themselves. “let’s get this party started, yeah, pretty girl?” you’re grinning, wiggling your eyebrows at her. 
wearing nothing but a white button down, no bra, cleavage on show with the three buttons undone minutes later. laying down on the countertop, abby’s sprinkling salt along their sternum. you smirk at her shaky hand. “you alright babygirl?” your raspy down flooding to her slippery cunt, as if every bone in her body wasn’t already nervous enough. she pauses as she grabs the lime on the countertop, placing it by the shot of tequila. 
mhm….you can’t just let this slide. the pretty girl you met tonight is just so shy, you feel your clit pulsating. the weed from earlier making your head feel lighter at the thought of her tongue licking your body. your tattooed hand with fingers decorated with rings grips her chin forcing abby’s gaze down to you. 
“grab the lime and shove it my mouth. want you to pull it out of mine with yours. how does that sound, babygirl? wanna feel my lips some more?” your drop your hand, letting it drop between her tits, until it reaches the waistband of her jeans. digging your fingers in, letting your skin kiss the skin of the v-line exposed. you pull her towards you even more forcing abby to bend over. her face impossibly close to yours. “be a good girl and stuff my mouth, angel. i’ll return the favor later…if you want.”
pale skin floods with crimson, she bites her lip, unable to say a damn thing. what the fuck is she supposed to say to this? with all her might, she stifles the giggle begging to be released, concentrating on the task at hand. the simple one you’re making incredibly difficult.
“i made it so easy for you. kicked everyone out, jus’ you and me, but you if you don’t want to do this, all you have to do is say the word. i’ll only get my feelings hurt a little bit.” you offer a small smile as abby lets her eyes drift to the salt perfectly laid across your sternum, fuck, you shouldn’t look this good. 
“i do—” abby pauses, collecting her next thoughts together before speaking. “i just, i’ve never done a body shot and you’re um very…” 
“what babygirl? i’m very what?” you’re eating it up now. practically getting off in the way abby fumbles with her words. grasping at straws as you watch her gawk at your toned chest. “stop.” the pretty blonde pouts. 
“you know you’re so—” god, why can’t she just fucking say it? “s’just a lot. you make me nervous. i kept getting looks. especially from the the girl in the white cropped top with your name on it.” 
“if you have something to ask, i’m all ears.” she’s cute, god. not even yours and she’s already jealous. it should turn you off, but it’s the most adorable thing in the world. plus, she’s being so sweet about it too. the itch for a taste if her only increases. “are you single?” you simply nod, letting the words soak in, gauging her reaction. 
“have been for months. just some don’t like getting left behind s’all. everyone with eyes can see i’m taking interest in someone new. i don’t let just anyone sit on me.” your hand grabbing onto her hip, thumb rubbing softly over the bone. “c’mon baby. i know you’re shy but don’t you wanna use me?”
she’s quite for a moment and it’s clear you have to take the lead. as much as the blonde is a bundle of joy, she’s an even brighter ball of shyness. either way, you’re itching to satisfy the craving. 
“do you want me to tell you what to do?” abby perks up at the question, desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. all of this, from the very beginning of her night with you, is completely new. with the roles reversed she feels backed into a corner. for the first time, she knows it can feel good like this. 
abby nods, but it’s not enough. “no babygirl, need to hear you say it. tell me you want to.” even in your haze, you wanted to make sure she was good with everything. abby’s heart doubles over, her heartbeat unable to rest. 
“i do, um, want to.” abby mumbles, scratching the back of her neck, a hint of smile hidden beneath her pink lips, swollen from all the insistent biting. “mhm, alright then. let me talk you through it, yeah?” 
oh. 
“first, you’re gonna lick the salt lined up on my chest. then take the shot like a good girl. and i’m going to put this lime in my mouth and you're going to take it out and get a taste.” you reach for the lime, sinking your teeth into the wedge, giving her a small nod telling her you’re ready. 
now or never, abby supposes. 
for far longer than necessary, she stares at your chest as if she’s inspecting each speckle of salt. the tattoo along your sternum doesn’t really calm any, only heightens them. painfully so, you’re patient. waiting for her to make the first move. 
her grip extended as she bends over, each arm on either side of you. giving her some room operate. the last thing she wants is to be awkward about it even if she feels she already has been. her head leans down, abby’s hair tickling your skin as she looks at you, blue eyes entranced as she flattens her tongue on your skin, licking one bold. 
you’re looking down at her in awe. truly, you half expected her to chicken out but she didn’t. welcoming the salty taste in her mouth, she looks at you with half-lidded eyes, tongue smoothing her lips as if she’s expecting there to be more of you. pushing herself off slightly, she takes the shot of tequila. 
she nearly gags on the burn in invading her throat. not one for drinking typically, and if she does it’s certainly not straight liquor. you find the innocence inviting. abby’s crimson cheeks flaring up in embarrassment, shaking her head violently as she tried to disguise her feelings, making you giggle. 
abby rolls her eyes playfully as she leans over once again, wet lips barely touch your own, before the lime is brought into her mouth, sucking on until the sour acid overflows and drips down her chin and onto your chest. 
but abby doesn’t think about what she will do next. suddenly, it’s a reflex. her tongue is licking up the excess of liquid on your chest, cleaning up the mess she made. a quiet whisper of abs, is let out as you feel her wet tongue. you want to laugh. you almost do, until she’s licking her way up to your neck, kissing your jaw softly before pulling off your body. 
“someone really wants a taste of me.” you tease, watching her blush but the need doesn’t fade. lost in the red of her gaze causing her to nibble on her lips.  you sit up with ease, now eye level with her. “you’re way too high tonight, feel like it’s my fault. i think i’m a bad influence.” you cradle her pretty face in your palm, thumb caressing her soft jaw. 
“was it too much?” abby questions, eyes pleading with acceptance. “no, not at all. if anything, just made me want more.” you talk a beat to look at her. it’s a privilege, getting to witness her up close, wide-eyed as she tries to figure you out. she won’t. not yet at least, not until you let her.  
“next time i can make it too much for you, if that’s what you like.” you tilt your head to the side. “not everyone likes it like that, but some girls do. i’m willing to bet you do.” your fingers reached up to her nose, following down the bridge and the bump in her nose. “you just give me a call and let me know, babygirl. alright?” 
“i don’t—” she paused, suddenly interested in the dribble of lime on your lip, and she can barely stop herself, again, when she’s using the pad of her thumb to wipe it away. the action quickly had you looking at her with wide eyes. not expecting her to do something so bold when the most of the night she’s been too shy to even look at you. but this makes you laugh, and flick your tongue out and catches her thumb. grinning at her abrupt squeak.
“you don’t what, babygirl?”
“have your number” she breathes out, almost breathlessly. her body tingling at the feeling of just your tongue against a part of her body. even if it was just her fucking thumb. it was something. “so i can’t, you know, call you”
nervous and shy abby was one you needed to meet again.
“do you want it?” you’ve got that stupid fucking smirk on your face again. a smirk that abby wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss it off you or smack it off your handsome face. either way, she’s nodding shyly and absentmindedly fumbling with the ring on your thumb. oblivious to your smile at her nervous habit. “words, use them, yeah?”
abby pouts, hating or loving, she hasn’t really decided yet, on how you can make her do things that she wouldn’t normally do. especially shutting her up by using certain words. you cocked your head to the side when she’s nodding again, lips parted before her baby blue eyes connect with yours. “yes” she clears her throat, “i would like your number”
“and i’d like yours so find me a pen, pretty girl” 
moving away from you, abby missed the sudden safeness you gave her. tonight was the only conversation she had with you, but she already felt safe. the comfort of just your hand on her lower back, she missed. “does this house even have a pen? i don’t even see a trash can anywhere” she grumbled, pushing her hair over to her other shoulder. the action not going missed by you.
“pretty girl, are you good?”
“no” she sighed, rummaging around in several of the draws, opening the cabinets, and finding no pen in sight. rolling her eyes dramatically as she slams shut the final draw again. admitting sudden defeat to an inanimate object. really mature abs.
you cleared your throat, eyebrow raising when abby turns around, looking at you like she just got caught stealing something from one of her friends to find you smirking, your right hand in the air, holding a pen. “if you spent less time being bratty, you would be able to find a pen” you chuckled, shaking your head. 
abby makes her way back towards you, slightly more confident once she’s in reach to steal the pen from you before you had chance to do anything, and holds it with a grin. “m’not a brat” she mumbled, tilting her head to the side in thought.
“sure you aren’t. what are you doing?”
“m’trying to think where i wanna put my number”
“on me?”
“on you” she nodded, tutting under her breath and trailing her finger up your chest. giggling when you’re sucking in a deep breath “can i put it here?” she asked softly, those eyes locking with yours again.
“uh huh” you nodded, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “you can put it wherever you want, pretty girl. as long as i walk out of this house with your number, then m’fine with it”
abby didn’t need to be told twice. placing her free hand on your other arm, using the other than was holding the pen to slowly, teasingly you thought, to write her number on your skin. the coldness of the tip of the pen had you sucking in another breath, her fingertips brushing against you had goosebumps rising on your skin afterwards. “there” she smiled, leaning back slightly and passing you the pen. “done”
shakily taking the pen from her, you laughed a little breathlessly and shook your head. “where do you want my number?”
“wherever you want” she’s using your words against you and it makes you laugh once more. 
a shiver runs down abby’s spine when you’re picking up her arm in your hand gently, stroking her skin with your thumb slowly and leaning a little closer, into her space, to press the pen, and ink against her arm. your breath tinkling her as you write each number slower than she wrote hers. teasing her back, aware of how much you’ve already got an affect on her. 
a crimson blush coats her cheeks when you’re pressing your lips right at the end, gasping softly when you bite down on her skin gently. “think that’ll be a good reminder of me until we meet again, sweetheart?” you asked, voice slightly deeper than it has been all night. 
she nodded dumbly with a shy smile. “yes” came her quiet reply. 
her eyes widen when you practically jump off the counter and wrap your arm around her waist, tugging her into your chest. her lips parting when you press yours against the corner of her mouth, and you can’t help but smirk when you’re stepping away from her, no longer in her space, a space she refused to let others into, but loved you being that close and pouted. “i look forward to seeing you again real soon, yeah, pretty girl?”
she’s watching you stumble out the kitchen like a lost puppy. heart thumping in her chest and music ringing through her ears when you turn your head a final time and blow her a fucking kiss. how is she going to go on about her day when you’re already the only thing in her head?
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hope all my masc gays feel feed ... hehe <3
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koolades-world · 2 days
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Hiya! Hoping you’re having a good day :)
Can I ask for the Obey me! Brothers and the side characters for how they’d react to a low iron MC who just faints in front of them?
For example Beel would give MC more snacks which are rich in iron along side all of his snacks, just making sure they’re getting their iron.
Thank you! <3
hello! yes, of course :)
enjoy <3
Mc with low iron who faints in front of the brother + side characters
Lucifer
he looks calm but he's so freaking out inside haha
he does know what he's doing though and he stays by your side until you come to again
he makes a rule for the house that every dinner cooked must have at least one iron rich food in it so you get some daily
Mammon
he's for sure panicked, because you're his human after all
he uses his own lap as a pillow for you while he waits for you to come back
after this, he's ten times more protective and practically never leaves your side. he's holding your hand a lot more with some vague excuse of protecting you haha
Levi
he's full on panicking
he does need someone to quickly snap him out of it so he can help you
past you knew this might happen, so you told him what to do, and once you're awake again, he thanks you and sends you lots of tips he found online for low iron
Satan
he actually catches you but he wasn't actually expecting you to have passed out
he's very put together and makes sure you're breathing before setting you down, head on his jacket so it doesn't have to be on the floor
once you're awake again, he's not pestering you, but he does ask you and make sure you're meeting your iron requirements. if not, he'll help make sure you do :)
Asmo
he's the type to scream and cause a scene
but, it gets you the help you need and when you wake back up, he's crying happy tears and hugging you
he makes sure you add irons pills to your supplement routine and that you won't be getting too much iron now thanks to that
Beel
he's concerned but he's oddly silent the entire time
he totally forgets about his food and watches over you carefully
when you're back, he digs through his snacks and finds one high in iron and actually saves all of those for you in the future <3
Belphie
he seems pretty calm, and he is, but a small part of him is panicking
but, he knows how to help you and he knows freaking out won't do you any good
once you're awake again, he helps to soothe any injuries you may have gotten and puts in more effort to ensure you're getting your needed iron intake
Diavolo
he really wished he was calmer throughout the entire ordeal, but he was very worried
he lets barbatos care for you and when you wake back up, he's by your side
he's already arranged an appointment with his doctor to make sure this doesn't happen again
Barbatos
he's very collected and knows exactly what to do
he elevates your legs and makes sure you're breathing until you wake up
after this, every time you come over for dinner, he makes sure all the food is iron rich and that it's something you'll be sure to ask seconds of <3
Simeon
another one who's very calm and knows how to help you
after you wake he, he makes sure you're not hurt after your fall
he has you rest for the remainder of the day so he can monitor your condition and feed you dinner
Luke
he's so so worried about you
he'll be right next to you the entire time, very close to crying
once you wake back up, he's hugging you so tightly and is finding ways to sneak more iron into your diet through the desserts he gifts you
Solomon
he's quick to use a spell to wake you back up
he arranges for someone to craft a quick bowl of fruits high in iron for you to snack on while he checks your vitals
you notice him keeping a much closer eye on you from then on, but you're not opposed to it
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mcondance · 2 days
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patrick likes nasty shit aka patrick pushes your face into his balls. blowjob-ish. black reader. MDNI 18+
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“c’mere,” patrick beckons, ordering you closer to his dick until you’re almost face-to-face with it. he sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide enough for you to fit between them. he’s a bitch and he likes to make you wait, to cue you move by move until he finally lets you do as you please with him. you sit patiently, a pillow under you knees because he’s not that mean, and wait for him to tell you what next.
he nods, a silent “yeah, exactly,” that cocky fucking smile on his face, and tilts his head at your obedience. he’s pretty, unfortunately, strong nose and smooth skin and obsidian curls. he watches your eyes flit between his face and his dick, how obviously you’re ogling the inches in front of you.
he brings a hand to your cheek, caressing your face like a prize. you breathe in, and lean into his hand. his touch always does this to you. finally, he gives you the go-ahead, a simple “taste it” before he’s leaning back on one hand and watching you work. you don’t falter or hesitate, your hand wraps around his base and your tongue lolls out of your mouth to meet his tip in a nasty little touch.
“that’s it,” he praises, eyebrows raising as you slap him against your tongue, looking up at him all wide-eyed. “keep that fuckin’ tongue out— yeaaah, like that.”
he’s heavy in your hand and on your tongue, heady and salty as he runs off at the mouth above you. but you don’t really get all that long to taste him before he’s moving you farther down. his hand tangles in your braids and he’s pushing you down and forcing your face into his balls. you grapple at his thighs but make no move to pull away, and he chuckles again when he hears you breathe in through your nose, drawing in his scent like you never learned respect for yourself a day in your life.
he hums as you nuzzle into him, the same little movement you gave his hand earlier. he smells like him, and his cock is hot on the side of your face and you’re sure you’ll have pre turning white in your hair later, but that makes it better. it’s gross, everything with him is fucking gross, but there’s no other way that exists. you can feel his arousal wetting your face as it smears all over your skin. you wiggle closer to him on the pillow beneath you, fuck shame and fuck not getting everything you want out of this.
a tight grip and another push is what he gives you. looking down at you as he smooshes your face into his ballsack in the most degrading, disgusting way possible. affection is hidden in his body, though. you’re nasty for him, and it swells his chest and makes him feel sickly content. your moaning and huffing makes something terrible flare up in him.
when he pulls you off after he’s had his fill, and sights the mess he’s made of you and how you suck in big gulps of air, that hazed little look in your eyes like you’ve been fucked, his lips turn up in a smile. you’re almost too good to be true.
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velvetchrry · 2 days
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━━━━ THE COLLAPSE
pairing: captain john price x f!reader
2k. you move to the mountains of montana and meet your new neighbor. *tw: kidnapping
Your next door neighbor was admittedly a little weird.
You were pretty positive he was one of those doomsday prepper types that you heard of when you moved to the area — but you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his 'bunker’ yet. You know some of them are pretty well hidden, and you’re a bit embarrassed to admit when he invited you over for a fish fry dinner after you first moved in, you totally went snooping around for it.
As strange as he might be, he seems like a nice guy. Genuine type of neighbor and you don’t want to piss him off, considering he’s your only neighbor. There’s nothing around the two of you for miles. That, and he’s actually been a pretty neighborly neighbor.
He always seems to know where you are but you figure it’s probably just because he’s clearly ex-military. When you catch yourself drinking coffee and staring at him from your porch as he fishes on the lake you share — he waves at you. When you’re trying to fix the fence on your small garden — he’s over right away with tools. When you’re struggling to carry your groceries inside — he’s around the corner, lifting over half of them out of your arms. Telling you that ‘you should really buy in bulk, love.’
And honestly, he’s right, you should. It’s been such a pain in the ass to get and haul groceries considering you moved to bum-fuck Montana — but oh is it ever beautiful. You get an absolutely breathtaking view every single day… but it takes away almost a full day from you in order to drive into the nearest town, load up, and then drive back home and unload them. By the time you’re done, you’re so tired you don’t have any energy to do anything else.
The power goes out one night. You’re not a child anymore, but it really is dark out here without any lights on. Eerie. You’re not from here. You don’t know what could be lurking out there, in the dead of night.
He comes by — of course he does. He’s got flashlights, candles, blankets and whiskey. Says the first two are to see with, the last two are to keep you warm. You let him inside just as the rain turns into a downpour.
You stay up most of the night together, talking. He tells you about his past in the military, you tell him about your writing, how you moved out here to focus and get out of the city. He pours you another drink and you have half a mind to refuse, but really you can’t let him leave yet. You’re a little scared to be by yourself out here tonight. He leaves when the power finally comes back on, only an hour before sunrise.
Loneliness seeps into your soul after a few months. You decide to invite some friends from college for a long weekend. You let him know of course. The plan is to do some hiking, but you’re sure you’ll end every night rowdy in your house. You tell him not to hesitate to show up if you’re all being too noisy.
He comes by that Friday morning, after everyone has arrived the evening before. Offers to be your hiking guide. You think, why not? You honestly aren’t much of an outdoor girly and can’t say you’ve ventured very far out here before. Might as well let the expert do it. He seems happy to — chatting it up easily with everyone, showing them little things in nature here and there.
When you get back to the house, everyone is so impressed by him they insist he comes by tonight for dinner. You almost can’t believe how easily he meshes into your group when he’s at least 12-15 years older than all of you. If you didn’t know better you would have swore he graduated with the rest of you.
He’s always on your team for any of the games you play and he's fucking good at all of them. Almost maddeningly so. You win flippy cup and pong easily. You team up in drunk Jenga and he makes you feel like he’s moonlights as an architect with how quickly you both become champions.
There’s no way he’d join you all skinny dipping in the lake — or so you’d thought. But as the rest of you tear your clothes off at the edge of the docks and jump in one by one, he’s there. Stripping down into nothing. Winking at you before he hightails it into a cannon ball. You hope what little moonlight there is doesn’t allow him to see the blush creeping up your cheeks. Doesn't allow him to track how your eyes move up his body — strong, sturdy, rugged.
One of the guys suggests playing chicken and he’s diving under and lifting you on his shoulders before you can fully register what’s happening. The soft, sensitive flesh of your pussy rubs against him with each movement and it takes every last ounce of your willpower not to grind against him like some sick fucking pervert. He’s your neighbor after all.
Winning was almost a guarantee with the two of you, even with you on top, because of how absolutely solid he is. Hands digging into your thighs, keeping you flush against him. It doesn’t matter who you’re up against because no one can push you off your perch on his shoulders. Your nipples perk, exposed to the chill of the night.
You’re fucking drenched and leaking onto him, you can tell. You just hope he’s distracted enough that he can’t feel your warm juices running down his back. You feel the prickles of his beard hair rub against your inner thigh and you have to bite down on your tongue to suppress a moan from escaping you. When he drops you back down into the lake after your undefeated streak and hits you with a whispered “that’s my good girl”, you almost try to hop back onto him then and there.
Fuck, you need to get laid.
Your friends leave once the weekend is up and it really hits you how well and truly alone you are here. Nothing can beat the beauty and serenity of Montana living — it wraps around your lungs like a creeping vine to take your breath away — but it makes you almost long for the hustle and bustle of the city you left behind. The trips to a girlfriend’s place for a glass (or bottle) of wine after a shitty day. Going out to bars and dancing the night away on a weekend. Hell, even just getting takeout when you don’t feel like cooking. All of it — the price to be paid for living here.
You can’t even begin to think about the detriment it is to your dating life. Sometimes — on the nights where you let your mind spiral — you imagine what it’ll be like living out here alone for the rest of your life.
Shockingly, you do meet a guy without even trying. Jake. Run into him. Literally in fact — you accidently trample over his foot at the grocery store with your cart. You feel so bad about it, when trying to make it up to him you find out he only lives a few miles away from you. He’s cute; outdoorsy type. Avid hiker, knows the area around your place. You invite him over for dinner tomorrow as an apology.
You go simple, not wanting to overdo it. Steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare, and baked potatoes. The two of you sit on your patio and chat until the stars come out and it’s too cold to sit any longer with soft breeze coming from the lake. Jake gets a fire roaring in your cozy little living room and you both curl up to it on the floor with a glass of wine.
He spends the night. You wonder — are you being too easy? Honestly… yeah, probably. But to be fair to yourself, you needed this… badly. You’re in quite literally the longest dry spell of your life. Living in the mountains hasn't helped that.
You jolt, waking up in a sweaty sheen that coats your skin. All night you’ve had the feeling that you’re being watched. It’s probably due to the fact that Jake, who is snoring lightly in your bed next to you, told you a few ghost stories about the mountain being haunted. That, and it’s easy to be paranoid living way out here.
Jake hangs around more and more. You go hiking, fishing, stargazing. Strangely, the more you see of Jake, the less you see of your neighbor. He’s not out on his boat on the lake anymore; you don’t see him grilling in his backyard or hiking the trails around your place’s. It’s… weird. He was such a solid fixture in your life when you first moved here.
It’s been over a month since you last saw him. The ghost of him lingers everywhere and it's starting to drive you crazy. When you’re tending your garden and you notice the part of the fence he helped to fix, you think of him. When you grill fish with Jake for dinner, your mind wanders back to him. Your mind plays tricks on you too — the back of your neck prickles and you think he’s going to be there when you turn around. But he’s not, he just… disappeared into thin air.
You decide you’re gonna go check on him today. It’s Saturday, and it’s a beautiful and sunny day. Typically a day you’d see him outside around the house. Jake’s coming over later tonight and you would like to introduce them to one another, especially after talking him up to Jake. Maybe he’ll come over for dinner?
When you get to his place and knock on the door, there’s no response. The door creaks open a bit from the force of your small hand. The house is dark and silent. You gingerly cross the threshold into his house, taking one tiny step into the foyer as you call out to him. It’s been a while since you last stepped foot in here.
You don’t want to intrude on him or his privacy but you’re honestly starting to get very worried at this point. What if he’s hurt? You push the door open a bit further and take another few steps in, again calling for him.
The house is just as neat as you remember from last time — nothing looks to be out of place. The dishwasher is running so that’s a good sign that he’s okay. You open your mouth to call out his name again when suddenly someone comes up to you from behind and presses a cloth to your face. You panic, limbs flailing wildly and inhale more of the slightly sweet, acetone-reminiscent scent. Your screams are muffled by the hand covering your mouth, and you scratch at it, feeling the hairy arm of whoever is behind you until the world becomes black.
When you come to, you feel a little foggy. You’re in… a basement? There are no windows, just industrial style lights. A bed resides in the center of the room — a bed that you are currently tied to — with each limb belonging to its own post.
Holy fuck… holy fucking fuck. Sheer terror spreads like poison through your body. This can’t be real. It can’t be. You’re too old to be kidnapped. You think you’re probably too old to sex trafficked… maybe? The rational part of your brain tells you to slow down and formulate a plan, but the other side of your brain — the one that’s currently reacting to the situation at hand — is kicking and screaming and gouging into your skin. The handcuffs on your wrists and ankles dig deep, biting hard into your skin.
You scream when you notice a shadowy figure hulking just out of eyesight. It moves slowly, so slowly. You throw yourself as far as you can to the other side of the bed, trying to get away from it.
When the figure steps into the light, your blood turns to ice. Sweat glides down your back in swift rivulets even as a chill seeps into your bones.
“…John?”
“Yes, love?”
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Tom Ryder x fem!reader
Summary: You're Tom's makeup artist for a movie he's shooting and you absolutely hate him. However, one round of karaoke later, your feelings temporarily shift.
Genre: Fluff, smidge of angst, Enemies to Lovers (very one-sided lmao)
Warnings: Tom is a stupid asshole (but he's also just a mess), swearing, light misogyny, slapping, alcohol, being drunk/high.
The bar is dimly lit and the loud music resounds in your ear as your knee bounces. You stir the straw around your drink, sighing as you turn to Vanessa, your co-worker. "He left me another post-it note on the desk yesterday telling me he wants a new lip oil because his now tastes weird!? His last one is only from last week and it's the same brand he always uses! I'm so sick of his bullshit, V," you drop your head in your arms and then peek up at Vanessa again, "He's such a dick."
Vanessa laughs, sipping on her margarita, as she shrugs, "Didn't you know that when you took the job, honey?"
"I mean, sure. But those could have been rumors," you pout and sit up, moving some hair behind your ear as you look around the room, where other crew members have gathered around the karaoke machine.
"Listen, don't think about Tom Ryder. You're off the clock and everyone knows he's a world-class asshole—a pretty world-class asshole, I will let him have that," Vanessa hums and also turns her attention to the rest of your friends and co-workers as she claps her hands. 
You look down at your drink, your cheeks feeling warmer than usual. Not thinking about Tom Ryder was easier said than done when you had to work on his face 5 days a week. He was so infuriating most times, either talking down to you when you worked or wouldn't cooperate with anything you told him to do because he was on his phone. Sometimes he really makes you want to stab the mascara stick into his eye. 
Still, you can't deny he's extremely handsome and that just annoys you more. 
Suddenly, you hear a bunch of cheers and hoots from outside, directly accompanied by the sound of the door slamming open. When you hear an all too familiar voice, your eyes widen and you snap around to make sure you hadn't just imagined it. 
Tom Ryder coming to one of the crew parties? No fucking way. Obviously, he's always invited to them but in a very arrogant fashion he never shows up—which is one of the reasons you do, because he never does. 
Only this time he did and he's not alone. 
Tom is dressed in another one of his boisterous outfits, his shirt loosely unbuttoned to reveal his chest and a peak of his toned abs. Pink-tinted sunglasses sit on his nose and his dirty blond hair curls messily around his face.
He looks drunk, or high, when he walks in and you can't tell which one it is because he's constantly moving and laughing. He's accompanied by a few other low A-list actor friends he has and a pretty blond model hangs on his arm, her giggles instantly infuriating you. 
How can she stand to be near him for more than a minute? Even less hold his arm and be his eye-candy? 
You turn back around, desperately attempting to calm the bile rising in your throat. God, you hate him. You feel even worse when he leans beside you at the bar and orders a drink from the bartender, snapping his fingers as he does. He doesn't even address your presence beside him and your blood boils. 
Your anger immediately turns to disgust when you hear the man hosting the karaoke scream out Tom Ryder's name.
"Tom Ryder everyone! I loved your new movie, man, it was awesome! How about a song?" the man asks, eyebrows wiggling as the crew clap (mostly out of politeness) and his friends make loud, drunken noises like a bunch of animals. 
"C'mon! One song—for all the pretty ladies in the crowd!"
Tom seems intrigued when the man mentions the girls. You roll your eyes and your hand tightens around your glass as he walks up to the host, raising his hands in surrender and feigning humbleness. "Alright, alright, I have to give the ladies what they want, don't I?" Tom boasts, winking at one of the camera girls he never looks at otherwise. 
Someone put you out of your misery now.
The host seems ecstatic to have someone this famous next to him and asks Tom for a quick photo, which Tom obviously doesn't turn down. You pretend to gag when Vanessa turns to look at you and smirks at Tom's behavior.. 
"How about a duet, Ryder?" The host asks as he hands him the mic. 
"Nah, I usually sing solo," Tom says, his words slightly slurred, and then he leans in to whisper something in the host's ear—which probably goes something like, "Unless she's got a nice rack, then by all means invite her up here." 
You lean in and whisper into Vanessa's ear, "Ten bucks he takes home the girl he ends up singing with," you say with a frown, your voice a little strained. Vanessa laughs and then the worst thing happens.
"You," the host shouts and you look up alarmed. Your eyes are wide when you realize everyone, including Tom, is staring at you. "The angry-looking girl in the back. Why don't you come up and join him? I doubt he'd bite." 
Laughter, including some nervous ones from your friends, resounds around the room as Tom's smirk widens. You'd be surprised, you think. You find your voice again and say, "Um, can't you ask one of them?" you point to the group of eager fangirls swarming around the small stage as they ogle Tom. 
"C'mon, sweetheart," Tom slurs, squinting at you, "One song won't kill you." 
But you might just kill him.
Vanessa, the traitor, nudges you again and you stumble from the stool. You glare at her but when all your friends, including Tom's more obnoxious friends, chant encouragements you feel completely trapped. 
The walk to the small stage feels eerily similar to a walk of shame as you look to your co-workers in hopes someone will save you. No one does and you ignore the stares from all the girls who wish they could take your place. 
You're blinded by the lights as you step on the stage and approach the host. "Atta girl," the man smirks patronizingly as he hands you the second mic. You scrunch your nose at him and then look up at Tom, expecting him to be ignoring you like he usually is, but instead, he's staring. 
His cheeks are pink from being intoxicated and he tilts his head, watching you clutch the mic nervously. 
The host doesn't warn you when the song begins to play and he walks away. You realize too late you and Tom are now alone and everyone is watching you as dread slowly fills your stomach. 
You don't even know how to sing! This is so humiliating. 
 The familiar melody of, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart," fills the air and you feel the heat rise in your chest and up to your ears. Your heart is pounding so loudly you can only faintly hear Tom start to sing the song. He sounds fairly good and you aren't surprised considering he's an actor. 
Your voice catches in your throat and you feel tears rise. You don't sing when it's your turn and the crowd is silent. 
Suddenly, you jump when you feel a strong hand on your hip and you snap your head around to look at him. Your hand finds Tom's hand immediately, gripping it, and just as you're about to pull it away, he leans in and whispers, hot against your ear, "Baby doll, you're making me look bad," he states, his tone as condescending as it always is, and your heart does a somersault in your chest.
He looks down at you this time, his blue eyes lock with yours for a moment and his hand falters on your hip. For an actor, Tom Ryder has surprisingly no poker face because when he sees your distressed state, his demeanor shifts, and instead of frustration, he takes on a different approach.   
He takes your hand, suddenly twirling you around and you make a small sound as you stumble. It's been a few seconds since anyone has sung the song, so he sings again and this time, his eyes stay on yours as he sings your lyrics.
"You know this," he mouths, encouraging you as he does this weird, clearly drunk-induced shimmy that makes you laugh despite your better judgment. He points to the small screen where the lyrics are displayed.
You take a breath and then sing, focusing on him instead of the crowd and your head feels light. You would have never guessed there would be a day when you'd find comfort in Tom Ryder. Your friends clap with amusement and laughter swirls around the bar as you both continue to sing and dance. 
Occasionally, Tom will pull you in closer but you'll move away, flustered, and when the song finally ends, you move back and almost trip on the mic's cord. 
With a gasp, you expect to fall flat on your ass but instead, Tom wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as your palms press on his chest. You're breathing heavily and so is he, his hand is still on your back as his eyes roam over all your features until you push him away and walk down the small stairs and back to the ground where all your friends are whispering and clapping. 
You feel like you can't breathe, your heart beating so quickly. You mumble a quick "excuse me" to Vanessa, snatch your purse from the bar counter, and open the door to outside. The cool air calms your burning skin and you lean against the building. 
What the fuck was that? Why was he looking at you like that? 
"You know, it's normal to be nervous around someone like me," Tom's voice interrupts your panic and you spin around, not expecting to see him. "But running from me? Now, darling, that's truly a first," he finishes with a chuckle and an obnoxious smirk. 
"You're so full of yourself," you whisper automatically but then your eyes round as if you've realized what you'd said. 
Tom looks surprised but he also remains cool as he strokes a hand down his jaw and puts it on his hip. "Mm, I assume you're not a fan then." 
You cross your arms and look anywhere but directly at him because fuck, why did someone so incredibly stupid and pretentious have to be so darn hot? "You could say that, sure," you shrug. "Not everyone likes you, Tom Ryder." You shut yourself up as soon as the words leave your mouth. This isn't exactly something you should say to someone who you work with.
However, Tom's expression sours and he lifts his eyebrow. "You don't like me?"
You turn to him, eyes locking with him this time. "That isn't what I said."
Tom's eyebrows crease and he squints at you, removing his stupid sunglasses and they push back his blond hair. "You're confusing me." He sounds genuine. 
You can't help but chuckle at his idiocy and surprisingly for you, your laughter makes him smile. He leans in and you lean away, eyes round when you realize how close he's becoming. "You have such a sexy laugh," he says cockily, "Bet I can make you do it again."
You hate to admit this but your heart does flutter at his words. Can anyone really blame you? It's Tom. Fucking. Ryder. You try to remind yourself how much of a dick he is—and always has been—but as you look into the blue of his eyes, his reassuring touch burns imprints on your skin and you feel dizzy. 
Shit. 
"You look familiar," Tom straightens himself, "Have I seen you somewhere? You been in any magazines? You certainly have the look."
You ignore the so-called complement and stare at him. He has to be kidding. You've been doing his makeup for over six months now and he supposedly sees you almost every day. You worked on his face every single day—how could he not recognize you? You open your mouth to ask if this is a joke but he interrupts you.
"Seriously, I must know you from somewhere. Gimme a hint, baby,"
Your stomach sinks and you feel so so stupid. Tom doesn't sense your shift as he's still focused on whatever fleeting emotion may have been between you before as his hand finds your hip. 
Instantly, your palm connects with his cheek, and the sound cracks into the air. "Don't touch me," you say harshly, ignoring how shaky your voice is.
Tom looks at you, his hand over his bruised cheek, "You hit me?!" he says in disbelief, "What the fu—" 
You don't stick around to hear his whining as you turn around and run from him. 
Again. 
"Hey–wait!" you hear Tom's shout but why would you turn around now? Tears of frustration brim your eyes as you hastily walk down the empty sidewalk.
There is no way you're fucking crying over Tom fucking Ryder right now, you tell yourself and pinch the inside of your eyes. 
No way. 
You ignore Vanessa's incessant calling and her worried texts when you arrive at your apartment. You scream in frustration, throwing your heels across the room and scaring your poor cat, Pumpkin, as she sprints into the living room, her claws against the floorboards.
Quickly, you follow her and scoop her into your arms, "'M sorry, baby," you coo and nuzzle your nose into her fur. "I'm sorry Mommy scared you."
You hear Vanessa's fifth call from your purse but you're too exhausted to deal with her and the fallout from what had happened tonight, so instead you sit on the couch and cuddle with Pumpkin, scratching behind her ears. 
* * * 
When you pull into the parking lot of the new set the next morning, you haven't slept well and you feel like shit—it doesn't help that they're filming outside today, in the summer heat, and grainy sand infiltrates into your Converse. 
You groan as you walk over to the makeup trailer and see Vanessa waiting for you. You almost called in sick this morning until you realized how guilty that would make you look, so you sucked it up. 
"Y/n?!" Vanessa shrieks and pulls you behind the trailer. "Where have you been?! I've called you a hundred times, why haven't you answered any of them? I was worried Ryder somehow took you home and that I'd lost 10 bucks—" 
"Gross, why would you think that?" you say with disgust as if you weren't surprised to hear that after you left Tom hadn't returned to the bar. 
"I mean, for one, Ryder was missing and no one knew where he went. And second, are you shitting me? Girl, the tension was more than palpable! You were practically dry-humping Tom Ryder in front of everyone!" 
You feel like someone has just punched you in the stomach and your voice comes out high and nervous when you exclaim, "I was not! It wasn't like that, V! Is that what everyone thinks?" Vanessa nods as an answer and you want to scream. 
"I swear, I- nothing happened—even outside—I- funny story I slapped him because he's a jerk and I- I don't like him!" you ramble and your heart thumps quicker when Vanessa looks behind you and her mouth curls into a devious smirk.
"Don't look now, sweetie, but your boyfriend just arrived," she pauses and checks her watch, "An hour late. As usual." Vanessa looks you dead in the eyes and then she teases, "Chop chop, time to put makeup on your man." 
Your eyes widen and you pull Vanessa further behind the trailer so Tom won't see you or her. You hold her shoulders. "Please switch with me for today. He won't even notice the difference, and Allie doesn't need to have her makeup done until noon so that way I don't have to see him! Please, V, I'll do anything!" 
Vanessa crosses her arms, "Nothing happened with him, hm?"
You look at her, your eyes round and pleading, "Please."
"Fine, but you're paying for my lunch later," she says and taps your nose, "and giving me a detailed rundown on what happened with Ryder."
You nod reluctantly, whispering a small thank you under your breath as she turns to walk into the makeup trailer behind Tom. You let out a breath, leaning against the trailer. You know you'll have to face him at some point—just not now.
The day drags on and on as the heat is becoming almost unbearable. You stand to the side, your makeup kit secured to your hip as you watch the scene from under a tent. It's another action sequence and it's very obvious Tom's makeup is fading from the warmth and his sweat. 
Shit, you realize, he needs a touch-up. Vanessa didn't use the correct primer. 
You look around, hoping to see Vanessa and tell her Ryder needs a touch but the director's voice cuts in and you tense, "Cut! Someone come to fix his face!" Jody turns to you, her eyes kind as her voice becomes a little less stressed when she sees you're prepared for this, "Can you fix his makeup?" 
Shit, shit, shit. 
This is your job, you can't say no so you walk out onto the set where Tom is leaning against a prop rock. He straightens himself and when he turns, he doesn't have the chance to process your presence as you guide him down and fumble with your kit. 
He's taller than you so he's leaning down so you can fix him up properly. You put your hand on his jaw, near his ear, to steady him as you touch up under his eyes and near his cheekbones. 
He's staring at you and you know he recognizes you this time, his blue eyes wide and puppy-like. 
Silently, you add some powder on his cheeks and nose so the product sticks better this time and when you let him go, Tom opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head no, and then you turn your head and hurry back behind the camera. 
Your ears are burning from embarrassment as you walk directly to the makeup trailer, without looking back at anyone. 
You've barely closed the door when it slams open and you scream. You spin around just as someone tries to hold onto your arm and on instinct you grab the hairspray that's in your kit and spray it directly into… Tom's eyes. 
He screams too, his voice high-pitched and very un-sexy, as he clutches his eyes. Seeing him only causes you to scream again. "Ryder?!" you exclaim and immediately take his arm, pulling him inside the trailer as he wails like a child and rubs at his eyes. 
You slap his hands away and push him down under the faucet, pouring water into his eyes and in the process drenching his blond hair and ruining his mascara. 
"Fuck," he groans as he sputters out water as he jerks away from you. You move closer to him and without thinking hold both of his cheeks in your hands, looking directly into his, now slightly irritated, eyes. 
"Does it hurt?" you whisper, clearly concerned. 
Tom rests his hands on yours and pulls them away, "What do you think?" he groans and blinks a few times. "You're the girl—" he mutters and pinches his nose, "at karaoke. I remember you now."
You realize how close you are to him now and, overwhelmed, you step back. "Lucky me," you mumble sarcastically and take his arm, pulling him to one of the seats. "I have to fix your face again or someone is gonna fire me." 
He's weirdly docile as he looks at your work as you dry his hair. Once you're done, he speaks up, "Why'd you run from me? I mean, c'mon, the way you looked at me with those fuck-me eyes—" 
Tom has no shame and of course, he wouldn't. He's probably never really been rejected in his entire life and women have most likely let him speak to them like this. You pause and pull his chin harder so he's looking at you as you continue with his mascara. 
"Tell me honestly Ryder, do you even hear yourself when you speak?" you ask, your voice strained. 
"What?" Tom asks, sounding genuinely confused. 
"You're an asshole. That's why I ran from you." You drop his chin and your word vomit comes out without you being able to help it as you cross your arms, "I mean—I have been doing your makeup for months! And you've only ever left me your stupid post-it notes when you have a demand! No "Hi," "Good morning," "How are you?" No. Nothing like that. And I tried! I really tried in the beginning because like everyone else on this fucked up planet I thought you were awesome."
Tom opens his mouth to make a snide comment but you instantly press your finger to his lips. 
"I really thought, "I'm so lucky to be Tom Ryder's makeup artist!" and then I found out Tom Ryder is a shit person that doesn't—"  
"I'm not a shit person," Tom deadpans and stares at you as if your words have hurt him. 
You tilt your head and drop your arms to your side. You don't even know what to say to him anymore. 
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I made you feel shitty, okay?" Tom defends and his cheeks are pink, "I just—I am really bad with faces—and I-I was completely shit-faced and high on–" 
He pauses, stands, and wraps his hand around your jaw, his thumb stroking your bare cheek as your eyes widen and you tense. Something about his charm makes it impossible for you to move and because his touch is gentle, you aren't too worried. For now. "'M sorry. I am. Can't we call it even since you hit me and sprayed me in the face with whatever that fucking was?!"
He continues, "—listen, I liked karaoke with you and I was shit-faced so I know I must have been a dick."
"You're always a dick, Ryder," you comment, your tone less mad than earlier.   
"Then, you don't know me very well," Tom shrugs, "or like at all." 
"So—you're saying all this dick-ishness is a persona?" You sound very skeptical and Tom just shrugs as his thumb strokes over your skin once more and then he drops his hand, putting some distance between you and him. 
"No. Not entirely. But, you know, that doesn't mean I'm incapable of genuine feelings, Y/n."
You're surprised when you hear your name fall from his lips. Tom sees your expression and another one of his smirks curls at his lips, "As I said, I remember you now. Always did—my hot makeup artist—ask anyone—ask Gail, I mention you a lot. I was just hammered, you know? High out my mind—and it heightened all my fucking senses that I couldn't get your laugh out my head for hours." 
"If you're joking," you say and glare at him, "it isn't funny." 
Tom puts a hand on his heart dramatically, "'M not. Scouts fucking honor." 
You look at him and for once, you can't read him. "Well, either way, that doesn't change how much of an asshole you've been to me. You never said "hi" but you told Gail about me? Sorry, but that doesn't impress me."
You walk up to him and tilt his head using his chin, examining his make-up once more, and then you take his arm and try to pull him out of the trailer, "Now, c'mon, you have a job to do—go do it," you hiss.
"But—" 
"No," you start but he won't move. He turns around and stares at you. Fuck, he's strong. "Why won't you leave?" you ask, breathless as you step away from him. 
"Do you hate me so much that you won't even consider that I genuinely find you interesting?" he asks with a hint of insecurity in his voice again. "That I liked spending time with you and I think you're pretty."  
Your chest tightens and you sigh, "I- I don't know," you admit and you look up at him. You can't deny that your feelings have shifted and a little voice in your head screams that this is a trap and he'll eventually break your heart. 
"Here," Tom fumbles with the pants of his costume and pulls out a pen and a post-it note. 
"You seriously just carry those on you?" you crack a smile, finding that weirdly endearing. 
Idiot. 
"Yeah," Tom says like it's the most normal thing ever and then he writes down something on the paper. When he hands it to you it's the name of a restaurant. You frown, it's your favorite restaurant. He'd written a time beside the name. 
"How do you know this is my favorite restaurant?" you ask. 
Tom looks up, his smirk turning into a smile. "I didn't—it's mine."
Your frown deepens, "Hm, I didn't take you for a low-priced family-run Chinese restaurant kinda guy—don't you have a personal chef or something," you say and look at the time he's written down, "What is this anyway?" 
Tom shrugs and adjusts his hair. "I do but I like this place. The family who owns it never tells anyone I've been there, it gives me some privacy," he sounds serious and he walks closer to you, "Don't tell anyone, it might ruin my reputation and then your favorite restaurant might be swarmed by a bunch of fangirls," he smirks, pleased with himself. 
You can't help but chuckle. 
"And this," he points to the time, "is where I'll be tomorrow evening if you'd like to join me," he says nonchalantly and then opens the trailer door. Just as he does, he takes his phone and takes a picture of the time so he remembers it and he sends you a wink. "I won't wait long but if you do come, it's on me." 
You stare at the paper and realize Tom Ryder has just asked you on a date. You look up but he's gone and your heart does about ten thousand summersaults as your brain screams in agony. Your cheeks feel warm as you fold the paper up and put it in the pocket of your jeans. 
You're so very screwed.
You hear a ding and then a text from Vanessa saying, "Ryder's mic was on—crew heard absolutely everything—we didn't wanna interrupt your moment," she adds a mocking winking emoji but you don't care. 
That's the least of your worries now that you have a date with Tom Ryder.
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mammonsrockstargf · 7 hours
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Your pretty baby. Your beautiful demon. Your lovely white-haired, money-gambling idiot. Your first man. He’s so cute that it makes you just wanna reach out and grab his cheeks and—
“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for?”
You blink out of your trance. Mammon looks suspicious, with furrowed brows and a tiny pout on his lips. You smile. “I was just thinking about how pretty you look,” you say, and Mammon’s cheeks instantly turn bright red. He covers the lower half of his face with his hands while his eyes dart around the room.
“Why you gotta be so blunt about it?” He murmurs, embarrassed by his own body's reaction. It’s never betrayed him as much as it does when he’s with you. It reacts so easily to your adoration, your touch, your attention. Mammon knows he's pretty. Yet it's so different when you say it, voice laced with such fondness that it makes his heart beat so loud, he's afraid you might hear it.
You get up from where you’re sitting by your desk to where he’s sitting on your bed, his back propped against the headboard. His lap looks so spacey, so comfortable. Surely he wouldn't mind if you were to sit there, right?
You plop down, easily making yourself comfortable. “H-hey!” Mammon stutters, and you grin up at him while settling against him, bodies easily fitting together as you straddle him and wrap your arms around his torso. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” you ask, perhaps a little too late, and Mammon sighs but wraps his arms around you nevertheless, somehow pulling you closer.
“I guess it’s fine, but it’s not free, ya know,” Mammon says, and you raise a brow while a little grin forms on your lips. Mammon grins back, and his eyes flicker to your lips for a second. “I take credit or cash,” he states, and you roll your eyes. “I guess I’ll just go find a free seat instead then,” you say, and you begin to untangle your limbs from Mammons, pretending to get out of his lap. “I don’t think Levi charges anything,” you tease, and Mammon gasps in dismay as he pulls you closer, not letting you get away. You giggle as Mammon furrows his brows. “You can’t joke about that kind of thing!” he whines, and you reach up to flick his forehead lightly. “Then don’t be an idiot,” you say, and Mammon uses one hand to rub his forehead while the other is still tightly wrapped around your waist.
“Auch,” he complains, and you coo. "Oh, my little demon, I’m sorry,” you say, and Mammon glares at you. “Want me to kiss it better?” you ask, and the glare melts as you cup his face with your hands and bring his forehead to your lips. You feel the demon underneath you somehow melt even further into you as he rests his head in the crook of your neck while you run your fingers through his white hair.
“You don’t mean any of that, right?” Mammon asks after a couple of minutes of silence. You feel his breath against your collarbone, and he presses a light kiss to your skin. “Hm?” you ask, and he gives you another kiss before pulling back to look at you. You move your hands to settle on his shoulders. “You’re not gonna leave me, right?” he asks, and you feel your heart swell as he pouts slightly, a light blush still grazing his cheeks. You press a quick kiss to his lips. “Oh, Mams, you sweet, sweet idiot,” you say, and give him another quick kiss. “I promise you’re never getting rid of me,” you say, and Mammon's grip on your waist slightly tightens, as if he's making sure you're still there.
"Good," he says, and you run your hands up and down his shoulders. Mammon grins and shamelessly lets his eyes roam, taking in every detail of your smile, your nose, your eyes. 
"You're pretty too," he says eventually and you smile and rest your head on his chest. "Thank you, Mams," you say and listen to the sound of his heart beating. You suppose it would be calming if it didn't sound like it was on its way out of his chest. 
"Why is your heart beating so fast?" 
"Ahhh, uhhmm, no reason it just does that sometimes." 
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a/n: it’s me, i’m reader, reader is me find my masterlist here
divider by @/cafekitsune
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raineandsky · 2 days
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teasing villain and stoic hero? :0
hell yea i love this :O thank you for the request!!
tw: suggestive
“My favourite hero!” the villain cries delightedly. “Tell me, what’s the plan tonight, hm? Bare hands? A blade to the throat? Whips and chains?”
“The plan for you,” the hero says shortly, “is jail.”
The villain gasps excitedly. “Ooh, does that mean you’re gonna put me in cuffs?” They laugh brightly. “Classy.”
The hero steps into a swing. The villain flits back and the hero’s fist meets thin air.
“You missed, darling.” The villain grins, their hand running through their hair. “Don’t go for the face, though. You know I like to look good in my mug shots.”
“I’ll go for whatever means you lose,” the hero says coldly.
“That doesn’t mean you win though, does it?”
“You losing means I win.”
The hero moves in for another attack. The villain reels back and retaliates with a knife in their hand. The hero just pulls away as the blade drags a thwip! through the air in front of them.
“Come on, [Hero].” The villain twists the knife in their hand, their head cocked to the side. “Play nice and I might let you pin me to a wall somewhere.”
A slight sneer pulls at the hero’s lip. “If you don’t mind,” they say sharply, “I’m concentrating.”
“Oh, my apologies.” A smirk works its way onto the villain’s face. “Am I showing too much ankle? Are you wasting away looking at a criminal this beautiful?”
“You got one thing right,” the hero retorts, “criminal.”
They snap forward for a strike. The villain barely sidesteps to avoid them, the hero’s fist bypassing their face and instead burying into their shoulder.
The villain stumbles, their face scrunched up in pain. “Is that why you want me in jail, [Hero] dearest?” They manage a grin, though it's pulled a little tight now. “You want me all to yourself, don’t you?”
The hero shifts to prepare for another attack. The villain does the same. “I want you off the streets.”
The villain’s grin widens. “You still want me all the same.”
The villain darts in for a strike first. The hero pulls away from their swipe too late and feels it burn a crimson line into their chest. A flare of rage engulfs them and they move in for their own swing. The villain ducks under their fist but moves straight into the second one.
The force is enough to send the villain staggering back. The hero pounces on them and shoves them back into a wall, one arm across the criminal’s chest and the other hand carefully pointing their knife away.
“[Hero],” the villain whines, though the smirk is audible in their voice, “I haven’t even given you my safe word yet.”
The hero opts to ignore them. They concentrate on the knife in the other’s grip, carefully tightening their hold on their hand. The villain heaves a heavy breath, trying to resist the force closing in on their fist, but eventually they give under the pressure and drop the knife. It clatters to the floor with a mocking laugh.
“Ooh, such a big strong hero,” the villain whispers softly. “This is the part where you kiss me, I think.”
The hero’s gaze snaps to theirs. The villain’s eyes are scrunched up delightedly, expectant. “This is the part,” the hero whispers back, equally gentle, “where I arrest you.”
The villain rolls their eyes, though one hand is sitting at the inevitable throbbing pain of the hero’s fists. Another loss for the villain, another win for the hero.
“Make sure you come visit me in your dungeon,” the villain says as the hero pulls a pair of cuffs out. “You’re the only one who knows how to treat me right.”
“I’ll see you for your interrogation.”
“Perfect.” The villain sighs dreamily as the hero snaps the cuffs over their wrists. “Then all your little friends can see the tension between us.”
The hero is pretty sure, though, that the only person who can see that tension is the villain.
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thinemoonshine · 22 hours
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⋆ ˚。𝒯𝐻𝒰𝑀𝒫! 𝒯𝐻𝒰𝑀𝒫! 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓂𝓅𝓈! ୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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enhypen 8th fem!member x hyung line content(s): angst(for heeseung’s but (y/n) puts him in his place), fluff, (y/n) rizzing the hyung line(unintentionally), cutesy members type: oneshot word count: 1842 (avg. of 461 words for each member)
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ synopsis: in which the hyung line’s hearts go THUMP! THUMP! in a fluttery way when (y/n) does a certain something ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
maknae line version (coming soon!!)
when she’s confident (l.hs)
this one can be general but to be exact, it’s when she acts like a complete girlboss—slaying the day and all that stuff. the type of confidence that’s sassy and teasing that contends with his own pride and tough facade. or in other simpler terms: putting him in his place.
“all i asked for was just a little help here and there because i’m exhausted. is that too much to ask for?” heeseung scoffs with a deep, discontented frown.
“is a ‘thank you’ too much to ask for?” (y/n) snaps back and the other’s gears seem to halt momentarily, not expecting her to talk back—with his own words, at that—considering how she’s always so patient.
he clears his throat but he’s not one to back down so easily. “that’s it? that’s the reason why you’re acting like a brat?”
his words cut her deeper than she thought it would and even for him, it’s harsh—coming out more abrasive than he meant it to be.
(y/n)’s glare sharpens and she slides the mug across the table to him. “make your own drink. i’ve had enough of you bossing me around.”
with that, her arms fall to her side before she turns to leave—until heeseung stops her. of course.
“HEY! don’t walk away from me! you think i’m gonna let you talk to me like that?? i’m older than you!”
(y/n) whips her head to him before stalking towards him instead. the same grim look on her face even when she stands close, chin almost touching his chest from their proximity. “so what? you’re older so it’s okay that you’re rude? you’re older therefore you deserve respect? nah… you gotta earn it. i figured you’d know this by now because you’re the wise old man.”
astonishment fills him at her mockery and heeseung resists from taking a step back at her bold confrontation, wanting to be as unyielding and fierce as she is—and yet another part of him wants to simply surrender and let her have her victory because dang, her temper is hot.
hot in which way? heeseung struggles with that too.
“oh, now you’re quiet,” she scoffs haughtily with a tilt of her head and her lips pulled to a scornful smirk. oh, how the expression makes him stagger ever so subtly. “you know, as much as i love your pretty voice, you’re better of like this if you’re just gonna use it to boss me around like a jerk.”
he knows she means it to taunt him. he knows that her ‘compliment’ is meant more of demeaning than it is praising—so why does he want to hear her say it again?
she takes another step closer, bodies almost touching and panic imbues more when his back presses against the wall.
her stare is intense, digging into his own so viciously, relentlessly, that he feels as if he’s laid bare upon her—secrets uncovered and he’s sure that she can see his vulnerability shining through. that is, if his palms tight against the white partition behind him and the occasional nervous licks of his bottom lip are not dead giveaways.
“seeing as you’re old enough as it is, i don’t think you’d need a babysitter to make your drink for you, hm?” she taunts with her voice light and airy, much too soft for the venom that drips through and the knowledge of that does something to him—ridding him of air.
he doesn’t remember thinking much, all he remembers is him automatically shaking his head and (y/n) shoving the mug to his chest before she strides away, followed by a slam of a door and now, a deafening silence.
heeseung leans limply as his chest rises dramatically at the deep inhale he takes before exhaling it just as thoroughly. putting his hand on the left side, his jaw tightens at the vehement beats of his heart and at the sudden recollection of (y/n)’s frigid, commanding tone and slicing glare he feels it skip a beat before it accelerates.
he shakes his head as his a rosy shade mantles his face, turning him as red as a tomato and it reaches the tips of his ears.
“crazy…” he mumbles to himself as the urge to make her mad at him once more occupies his head. it’s clear who prevails this time—and yet, he feels like he’s won something much better than what he bargained for.
spending time with him even during the mundanity (p.js)
jongseong absolutely adores and appreciates every moment he and (y/n) spend together. but what really gets to him is when she wants to spend her time together even for the most mundane of things—cooking, cleaning, having tea and crackers—all that everyday routine. there’s just something so heartwarming and touching about being domestic together.
“jayyy~” (y/n) sings as she skips through the corridor. jay smiles just from hearing her and turns to the girl—without losing focus on folding the last of their laundry—when she emerges.
“finished playing your game?” jay asks and slides the basket of neatly folded clothes to the side of the couch, smiling at (y/n).
the girl nods. “yup,” she casually says with a pop of the ‘p.’ her eyes glance at him who’s following her with his warm gaze before noticing the basket on the floor.
jay pulls his eyes away when she slips into the kitchen and starts playing his phone only to look back up just moments later when a hot drink gets quietly placed in front of him. his brows raise with surprise and confusion at (y/n) who wears a a small smile. “for me?”
“mhm. thought you’d want some,” she says and takes the space beside him. “biscuits?”
a warm, fuzzy sensation imbues and spreads from his chest to his limbs, like a drop of ink on plain fabric—colouring the dull, chalky cloth with bright hues. jay can’t stop the smile that spreads in his face, small dimple surfacing.
“thank you,” he bashfully says as he takes a cookie from her and lifts the mug to his cute, teeny lips—sneaking a side glance at the girl who sits while holding her mug on her knee, legs crossed and all.
despite his external silence, his head is loud with hopeful thinking of doing this again with (y/n). he’s already planning on making a hot drink for her first tomorrow, on buying more biscuits and crackers and cream buns—whatever it is to make her have this little tea time with him again. and again. and again and again and—basically what 2pm said.
when he’s her priority (s.jy)
jake absolutely adores it when (y/n) gives him her undivided attention. there are a lot of them in the group after all and it’s hard for her to focus on one when everyone’s talking, singing, dancing or pulling off whatever life-risking stunt there is.
so whenever he gets to have her all to himself, it makes him feel just a little bit smug and victorious.
“(y/n)~ play with my hair?” jake asks with a pout and bats his pretty eyes at her as he walks up to the girl who’s sitting criss-crossed on their living room as she watches the TV.
she chuckles and nods before going back to looking at the screen as he breaks out into a wide, happy grin—sitting down on the floor in front of her and melting instantly when he feels her fingers raking through his dark locks.
her motions are instinctive yet endearing—braiding and twirling his hair without so much as a glance—and her tenderness seeps through him. the soft tugs on his scalp is soothing, like a gentle massage and his eyes shut as they grow heavy.
“(y/n)~ can you help me with choosing a toy for maeum?” jungwon comes by and jake’s instantly alarmed. the apple in his throat bobs nervously as he dreads the idea of (y/n) leaving him—
“sorry, jungwon. i promised jake to do his hair so maybe, later?” (y/n) apologizes and wonnie looks down to his hyung. a small pout forms as he sees him getting pampered, suddenly wishing he grew out his hair so (y/n) will play with it.
but still, the leader digresses and flashes an assuring smile before leaving the two.
jake’s wide awake now. (y/n)’s rejection onto jungwon to stay with him, one and only sim jaeyun, being the main cause and he’s unable to stop the smile that stretches on his face—criss-crossed legs flapping up and down like the wings of the butterflies in his stomach as his heart knocks and gnaws violently against its cage.
“stop moving so much,” (y/n) chides playfully and jake giggles with a drawn out, chirpy “okay~”
the goofiest, cutest grin on his silly, gleeful face.
when she thinks of him even when he’s not around (p.sh)
“ooh! hoon would suit this!” (y/n) exclaims when she sees a keychain reminding her of sunghoon while out shopping in an en-o’clock episode. the said male member isn’t there since it’s her solo mission but once they watch it together, you better believe he’ll have a grin forming on his face.
a ticklish feeling occurs inside his chest like feathers have clogged up his lungs and are brushing his heart and he’ll turn to the girl who sits adjacent from him—though, separated by ni-ki and sunoo who sit between them. his smile broadens when he sees her looking at him as well.
one of his luxuriant dark brows raises at her, questioning or more exactly, endearingly teasing the girl for her little gesture that makes his chest tighten in a strangely enjoyable way and she’ll shrug with a cheeky smile. his lips part slightly, amused by her response before he turns back to the screen.
later on when the others aren’t around, he’ll bring it up again and even throws silly little jokes of “you missed me a lot, huh?” “can’t stop thinking about me, can you?” as he circles her in a controlled chaotic manner—like a little pup blocking her path.
or a cat who keeps brushing against your leg and will only stop either when they’re given a treat, or you trip and fall on your face.
“stop it!” she then giggles and he feels his joy doubling at hers, finally standing still as she fishes something out of her pocket. “here.”
dangling from her fingers is the keychain she mentioned in the en-o’clock episode they watched and sunghoon’s brows raise, eyes turn rounder and lips gaping slightly.
she actually got it for him.
“here you go. one and only for you,” (y/n) says and drops it onto his open palm.
“just me…” sunghoon mumbles much too quietly for her to discern and once again, he feels that same fluttery, sickeningly sweet feeling that both frees and squeezes his chest—if not stronger.
‘she thought of me,’ he thinks and lifts his gaze from the chain to her—ruffling her hair intensely and almost making a bird’s nest on her crown.
his fangs are showcased proudly as he beams, eyes upturning and charming chuckles rumbling.
ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙
𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog— they give me some motivation, ya know? X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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into-crazy · 3 days
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hot tub surprise
Negan Smith x Female Reader one shot
Non-apocalyptic AU // The Walking Dead AU
Summary: You sneak over to your older next door neighbor's house and use his hot tub. Hoping that he'll come out and catch you.
Warnings- mature language, alcohol consumption, age gap(reader's over 18, Negan's in his 40s), breaking and entering, NSFW, SMUT, slight masochism, masturbation, degradation, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, ages 18+
Author's Note: There were a few times where I had to stop and take a deep breath to calm down because it got pretty hot lol. But I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you guys like it♡
💕divider by @saradika-graphics
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There was something you always liked about your next door neighbor, Negan Smith.
Maybe it was because you were into older men. It could be his cocky, devil-may-care personality. Or perhaps it was that deep husk in his voice that always made your pussy throb. But ever since he's moved here you've had your eyes on him.
You are under the impression that perhaps Negan was attracted you too. As he showers you with compliments every time you see him. There have also been a few times where you've caught him staring at you a little too long. And he's always searching for a reason to be able to "accidentally" touch you in some way.
However, he's never actually told you or made some sort of move. Though neither have you.
The reason being that you are still currently living with your parents. One of them is always around which makes it difficult for you to try and flirt with him. You don't want your parents to know that you're attracted to your older neighbor. What would they think if they found out? Certainly they would disapprove. What makes the matter even worse is that Negan is really good friends with your father. So.. double yikes.
Still, you're always looking for the perfect opportunity to make a move on him.
Luckily for you, your parents are going out of town this weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Your father took another day off from work so that they can come back on Monday. That way they have more time to spend alone together. So there had never been a better opportunity for you than now.
Negan's got a hot tub in his backyard. He had it installed last year. On cool, windy nights he's often in there. In nothing but his black swim trunks, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. You know this all too well because you have a perfect view of it from your bedroom window. It would be embarrassing to admit how many times you've looked out of your window to see if he was out there. Not that you're a total stalker. Only staring at him for no more than a few seconds before carrying on with your day. But man, seeing his wet body sure does make everything better. That broad, hairy chest and those toned, tattooed arms glistening from the water. You've certainly fantasized about being with him in that spa plenty of times. Straddling his lap and making out with him until one of you takes it further.
Negan had said that your parents or even the three of you could go over to use it anytime you wanted. Your parents had went together a couple times. You didn't want to feel like a third wheel, so you didn't go when they invited you. There wasn't any way you would go by yourself, as it doesn't seem appropriate. However, now that your parents are going out of town for a while.. perhaps you could make something work with that.
//
Thursday evening.
Your father and Negan are sitting on the patio, having a couple of beers. When Negan asks about weekend plans, your father tells him about their anniversary getaway. How this is their 25th year together and they wanted to do something special. They are going to be staying at a luxury, spa hotel next to the lake. Spending the entirety of their time there relaxing by the water, drinking expensive wine, and getting full body massages.
"That sounds very nice, the two of you will have a great time." Negan offers his thoughts on the matter. "Twenty five years? That's fucking remarkable."
"Yeah, thanks. We're really looking forward to it." Your father replies before downing the rest of his bottle. "Hey, y/n!" He calls for you from outside.
You poke your head out, briefly locking eyes with Negan and giving him a nod before looking at your father. "Yeah?"
"Could you grab me another beer, sweetheart?"
Negan leans forward, holding his bottle up. "Make that two, would you?"
You go to retrieve them and your father asks Negan if he has anything going on this weekend.
Negan takes the last sip of his beer, taking a second to ponder on it. "Do I have something to do? Uh no, not much." You come back outside with two beers in your hands. Walking over to them you hand your father his beer first as he was closer. "Think I'm gonna spend the weekend drinking and relaxing, myself." You go to give the other bottle to Negan. His hand reaches out to grab it as he keeps talking, "maybe take a dip in the hot tub." His fingers brush over yours as he takes the beverage. You look at him and he gives you a half smirk, "thank you darlin'."
"You're welcome." You smile back at him before turning around to go back inside. God, the tension you've just felt. Also, that pet name definitely made you blush.
Good thing your father was focused on popping opening his bottle and didn't notice the exchange. Because you were certainly burning up after that. Why does Negan keep doing that to you? Surely he must know the effect he has on you. And that mention about his hot tub was certainly a jab at you. Yeah.. he knows. He fucking knows!
//
Friday arrives.
You had work/studies the whole morning. But your parents spent the time getting everything ready for their trip. Making sure that they had their bags packed, and checking to see that things at home will be in order while they're gone. Once the afternoon rolls around, you are in the driveway waving your parents goodbye.
"Have a great time- and drive safe!" You call out just before they drive away.
Finally, you will be home alone for the next few days. Which means you'll have Negan all to yourself.
You've come up with a bold plan. Something risky. You are going to make the first move. Show him how very interested you are in him.
Negan had left his house shortly after the sun had went down. Which wasn't an issue for you, since that would make it much easier for you to carry out your plan.
You picked out the hottest, most revealing bikini that you own and booked it over to Negan's house. Making sure that none of the other neighbors see you before letting yourself in through the backyard gate. It wasn't new to you as you've already been here quite a few times for casual hangouts and such with your parents. But it's now the first time you been over here by yourself. It brings on a surge of adrenaline.
Taking the time you have to set the mood, you start up the spa. Turning on his radio and setting it on low to your local station that plays all the best love songs. After everything seems to be set, you take off your clothes and climb into the large tub. Settling into the water with a sigh. The water is hot and the jets feel amazing on your back. Now you know why Negan loves this thing so much, it's incredible!
Some time goes by before you ultimately hear the sound of a car pulling up front. You get up out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub. On the farthest one, that way you are facing the back door in which you anticipate Negan will come out from. There are lights being turned on inside, confirming that he's home. Your heart pounds faster in your chest when you realize they're getting closer. Then the light above you comes on, the door swings open, and out steps Negan.
The instant his eyes land on you he is visibly shocked. "What the hell- y/n? What are you doing here?"
His eyes travel down your entire body then snap back up to your face. You're wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he's ever seen, it's barely covering anything!
You bite your lip, looking him up and down. He's got on a fitted tshirt with some dark jeans, and his leather jacket folded over his arm. You grin at him before reply, "hi Negan. I hope you don't mind that I came over for a dip, since you said I could anytime." Using one hand to brace yourself on the tub, you lean back and spread your legs. Running the other hand teasing up your thigh. "I'd really like it if you'd join me."
He speaks to you with a mixture of anger and urgency, "damn it y/n, this seriously isn't the-" Something cuts him off.
"Hey, there you are." A woman suddenly steps out of the house looking for Negan. You quickly close your legs, startled by this new woman's presence. Her gaze immediately widens at you before turning towards him, "I'm sorry, who's this?"
This is one of the most embarrassing things that could have ever happened to you. Clearly she saw you flirting lewdly with Negan. You search around desperately for something to cover up, but there's nothing nearby. The lower half of your body is frozen in place and refuses to move. So you sit there awkwardly. Managing to get out, "shit, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't realize you had company."
The woman still stares at Negan, expecting an answer. He sighs, "this is my neighbor. She lives right next door. Look I swear, I didn't know she would come over like this. But I know her parents and we'll find a way to deal with this."
He looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, which crushes you even more. You wish you could just go back to prevent this from happening.
The woman still appears uneasy about the whole situation, and rightfully so. You've just completely interrupted their evening. She motions towards the door, "yeah I think I'm going to go. You obviously have something here you need to take care of and I really don't want to stay for that."
Negan swears under his breath, shaking his head before replying. "Yeah, I understand."
He opens the door so she can go inside and grab her things. As she goes in, he directs his attention towards you. "Stay right there. Don't you go anywhere, young lady."
You give him an apologetic nod and he steps in after the woman. Sinking back into the water as it gives you some form of coverage. This sucks. It seriously does. Now you're worried that he's going to tell your parents about this, fuck! You use the time to come up with something, to beg him not to tell on you.
A minute or so goes by before the opening of the door catches your attention. Negan steps outside. He takes a few steps towards you, then plants his feet and crosses his arms. He looks beyond pissed. "Well then, would you mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing?"
You tense up, unable to make or hold eye contact with him. Instead choosing to stare down at the water in front of you. "I-I'm really sorry, Negan. I shouldn't have come over like this."
"No you shouldn't have, this is highly inappropriate." He berates you more. "And you know that. What the hell were you thinking?"
Tears start to form in your eyes. You feel like a dog that's being scorned for peeing on the carpet. "I know it is, and I'm so sorry.. But I promise to never do it again. I'll just go home okay. P-Please don't tell my parents about this."
Negan clicks his tongue sharply at that. "Shit I don't know. There's a lot you did that I can't just let go. Breaking into my backyard, using my stuff without asking, wearing practically nothing and then opening your legs in front of me like a fucking slut."
You miss the way his tone changes towards the end of that last sentence. "I sincerely apologize, and especially for ruining your date. I didn't mean to do that. I won't do it ever again."
He exhales heavily. "Look at me."
You muster up enough courage to bring your gaze up towards him. He looks hot when he's mad. And you hate to admit it, but his scolding gives your core a pleasant sensation. It's a strange feeling, you're unsure how to describe it. Your thighs squeeze together as a result of that. Negan seems to have caught on to that as well.
"I guess I don't have to tell your folks about any of this," he starts. "And I won't tell them, if you get back up that ledge and spread those legs again."
"I'm- you want me to do what?" You reply shakily. Not sure whether you heard him correctly or not. But that heavy look in his eyes tell you that he was dead serious.
"I said get back on that Goddamn ledge and spread those pretty fucking legs for me. You want me to keep my mouth shut, don't you?"
A shiver rattles your spine at his words. You nod, "mhm."
He gives a hum. "What are you waiting for, then? Get your ass up there."
You emerge from the water and sit right back where you were before. Doing as you're told and opening your legs. Shame and arousal mix together pleasantly throughout your body when you notice his gaze trailing over every part of your body.
Negan gives a wolf whistle, "Hot damn that is a wonderful sight to see." He is at the other side of the tub now, leaning against it to get a better view. "Now do me a favor and undo those straps, sweetheart. I wanna see it all."
Using your hand you release every strap of your bikini. Starting first with the top, then the bottoms. Letting the articles fall onto the floor behind you. You are now completely naked, your plush breasts and warm cunt on full display before Negan.
He licks his lips, "shit baby, you look absolutely fucking gorgeous." There is a tent at the front of his pants, indicating that he's getting hard from the sight of you. He removes his own clothing, stripping down to his boxers. Then he climbs into the tub, sitting at the opposite end of you. "Go on and touch yourself."
Your fingers move to your clit, drawing circles at a teasing- yet pleasurable pace. Inserting them into your aching hole then bringing them back to smear your wetness around your bud. Releasing moans and whimpers that are music to Negan's ears.
He runs his own hand over his bulge. His breath is getting heavier, "is this how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?"
"Yes," you nod, admitting that you do.
"Yeah, I bet you think about me every time huh? Thinking about my fingers instead of your own inside you. Sitting that pretty ass on my face while I eat that pussy. Or my cock slamming in and out of you as I fuck you dumb. Is that right baby?"
Your hips stutter as you listen to every filthy word that left his mouth. "God, yes.. I think about you all the time Negan. I want you s-so bad."
A chuckle leaves his lips. "I know you do." He leaves the wall and comes closer to you. His hazel eyes filled with lust. "And you wanna know something? I want you too." Standing directly before you, he places his large palms on your thighs. Gliding them up to your stomach. "I've wanted you for so long, you have no fucking idea how crazy it drove me." He brings his face closer to where his lips are almost touching yours. "And now that I've got you all to myself I'm gonna take my time and enjoy every second of it."
He leans in, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. Slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth, you can taste the whiskey that he'd been drinking. The roughness of his beard scratches pleasantly against your soft skin while he devours you. One of his hands caresses your breasts as he trails wet kisses and marks down your neck. Pulling back slightly to look at your breast when he rubs and pinches at your peaked nipple. "You've got some nice tits." He states, taking it into his mouth to suck on the bud.
Your fingers run through his hair while he sucks marks on to your chest. Meanwhile your core is aching for some attention, your hips press against him. "Negan, please."
He chuckles at your neediness. "Look at you squirming for me. Don't worry, I'm gonna give you what you need." Sliding further down your body, he brings his face to your pelvis. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, wasting no more time as he buries his face in your eager cunt. He licks a long strip up your slit towards your clit, letting out a deep groan. "Fuck, your pussy tastes amazing." He laps at you a few more times before his tongue travels upward to lick and suck on your clit. Inserting two of his thick fingers into your dripping entrance, he begins pumping them in and out of you. Skillfully curling them against that spot that immediately gets you closer and closer to your orgasm.
"Oh f-fuck, right there- please." You moan, right on the verge of sweet release. Trying hard not to be too loud as to not alert any of the neighbors.
He can feel by the tightening of your walls that you are about to cum. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my face."
His approval was everything you needed. Your orgasm gushes out of you while you let go with a strained cry. Negan laps it up with a satisfied hum. There's a shift in his eyes when he looks up at you, they're darker. Hungrier. Once you come back down from the high you bring your focus to his cock, straining to get out of his drenched boxers. The article sticking to his skin, giving a gorgeous outline of his manhood. You reach down, palming it. The action making him hiss.
"Want something, darlin'?"
You reach under the waistband to fully grasp his hardened member. Stroking it while whispering, "I want this.. want you."
"Good, because I need to feel that pussy around my dick now." He snatches you off from the edge, turning you around and bending you over it. Tugging down the rest of his boxers, he pulls out his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance and slides right in, the intrusion making both of you groan. The water sloshes around more violently as he pounds into you. "Shit you're so fucking tight. Keep sucking me right in" He pants while thrusting into you. You moan in ecstasy, not able to do much but lay there and take his cock. He leans over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head to the side so he can talk in your ear. "Such a dirty fucking girl you are. I wonder what your old man would think if he found out, hm? That you snuck over here and let me fuck you like the horny little slut that you are."
You let out a loud cry in response, your spongy walls clamping tighter down on him. "I.. I don't know." Was all you manage to mutter out.
A deep chuckle leaves his lips, brushing past your sensitive skin. "Oh you don't? Maybe I should ask him then."
"No!" You nearly scream out loud. "Don't tell him, please!"
His brutal thrusting doesn't falter, slamming into you balls deep every thrust. "I won't if you promise to be a good girl and cum on my cock."
"God yes- yes! I promise to cum all over your cock."
His hand snakes in front of you to rub firmly on your clit. The extra stimulation making your body tremble uncontrollably under him. You are so close to cumming and so is he, but he needs you to let go first. He urges you on, "that's it baby, cum for me."
"Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your eyes roll back and you finally cum. Cunt squeezing down hard on his cock and milking him of his own orgasm. He pulls out of you just in time to shoot his load all over your back. Releasing a deep groan as he paints your skin with his warm, milky seed.
"Holy shit," Negan laughs breathlessly. The two of you stay there for a few seconds to catch your breaths. He is the first to move, "alright stay right here. I'm gonna get something to clean you up." He exits the spa, going to collect a towel from the towel rack. Stepping back in he uses the article to wipe your pussy and the cum from your back. Making sure you are nice and clear before tossing the soiled cloth on to the floor. He taps you lightly, "all done."
"Thank you," you return coming off the edge and settling down next to him in the relaxing water. Both naked and satisfied.
He wraps his arm around your shoulders, giving you a sweet peck on your lips. "That was fucking incredible."
"Mm, sure was." You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his chest.
His thumb brushes affectionately against your arm. "It looks like I've got you all to myself for the next couple of days."
"What happens after that?"
He gives a half smirk. "We'll figure that out later. But you are mine and I'm not giving you up, that's for damn sure."
You grin widely at his answer.
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Also kind of like another request (I think from your old blog??)can I request having Nikolai split himself half like in the hostage incident and toying with his bottom half while him and his torso can do nothing about it? He can't even hold on to reader to ground himself :((
I don’t know if I should be turned on or scared. On one hand it sounds hot as fuck, on the other hand it’s a little.. nevermind, it’s interesting. I’ll see what I can do (sorry it’s a bit short)
Dom!reader x sub!nikolai
Warning: magical tricks - Nikolai is split in two (sounds familiar huh), teasing, handjob, edging
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Nikolai was so exited when you finally came over to his place. He promised he’d show you his newest magic trick, but it took ages until you made time for him, causing him to rush you the moment you set foot inside the room. Your little puppy was basically crawling at your sleeves, eyes sparkling as he kept repeating the words, “you will love it! I’m sure it will be fun!” Can you say no when he’s looking at you all excited?
You let him drag you to his living room. He made you sit on the couch and sat down next to you, covering his body with his coat. All he did was grin at you with a smug look. After waiting for a few more minutes, you asked him, “…so?” Was he really going to do nothing after making such a big deal out of it? Seems unlikely. Could he perhaps be shy? No way.. or?
“Why don’t you count to three~? I’ll show you then!” The white haired man said, then he got really close to you, his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Sure, one, two, three?” You replied, confused as to what his plan was. Suddenly he disappeared- no, only his torso did. His lower body was still there, sitting next to you. A yellow, golden ring was around the end of his abdomen, so his stomach area. Sure, you knew a few things about how he is an ability user, and can teleport a little, but what is this? Why the hell was he split in two?
“Nikolai?! Are you alright?” That was your first instinct. If his torso just vanishes like this, what about his organs? Does his legs still get blood, or air or whatever? “I’m fine!” You heard him say, the voice came from the seat across you. His hands formed a heart shape. It looked weird, how his body just stops so suddenly. No blood got onto the furniture neither, only his body was somehow cut in the middle. God he scared you, you already broke out in a cold sweat due to him. Seeing someone dying was not on your schedule for today after all.
Instead of looking even the slightest bit concerned, Nikolai just laughed. “Hahaha! Your face! Were you shocked?” At that you only rolled your eyes, “At least someone is enjoying themself.” While he kept having fun over there, you were still a little sceptical with what was placed next to you. So, how does that ability work? Can you touch that shining ring? Or will your finger get teleported too? Curiosity took over, which is why you poked his hips, causing him to wriggle a little. “Ha-hah? Hey- that tickles.” Now this surprised him, he didn’t think you’d touch him so suddenly.
That was cute, was what you thought, when a pretty crazy idea crossed your mind. “You are right, Nikolai, this is quite fun.” Before he got the change to try a nod understand what you meant, you started groping his thighs, squeezing the softer inner side. “Mhm.?! Y/n! Are you r-really gonna?” A slight tremble was in his voice, but it was due to the excitement he felt. What a freak you were, touching him under such circumstances. “Don’t you dare teleport back, Nikolai, stay like this for a bit.” You ordered, then pulled his pants down.
Nikolai’s face flushed a little, lust was clouding his head. He wanted you to be bolder, to do more. Those pretty eyes of his were half lidded, staring intensely at your hand. His own ones were gripping his coat tightly, to the point they shock a little. “Be patient, you are so needy already.” You mocked him with a gentle under tone, while teasingly rubbing and patting his bulge through his wet underwear. The humid spot was getting bigger, as well as his dick, slowly getting erect as your actions. “HnnGh… more, pretty please?”
All he could do was beg, while watching you pleasure his lower half as if that wasn’t him. It was such a strange feeling, watching you play with he himself. Yet he could feel every of your touch so clearly, so much that he began to drool. “Y/n… don’t ignore me- mhMm fuck, don’t teaseeeee.” He complained, eyes staring at how your thumb rubbed his slit. Oh he felt that, he definitely felt it, it coursed through him like electricity. “Nope, I’ll take as long as I want, you just stay put and wait, alright?” You answered as you rubbed his tip with your palm, yearning a loud moan from the male. “AaahHh..! Da-damn it.. y/n~!!” His whines were so adorable. This is kind of entertaining, his magic show was pretty fun in the end, wasn’t it? You were definitely going to enjoy it.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
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dragonpyre · 3 days
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Touch starvation is a very real thing.
The post where you asked about it felt pretty flowery/easy to interpret as exaggeration and I thought giving you some entirely factual examples might help convey what it's like without that ambiguity. Gonna try not to make this into me venting in your inbox, I know how unpleasant that shit is, and I'm doing better now so please don't feel like you've got to comfort the anon stranger here! I promise I am fine and will continue to be okay, I have better life circumstances now *pretend I could put a thumbs up thingy here lol*
So anyhow here's the description part: There was no one to touch me and prove that I existed, so I dissociated a lot. Extreme pressure and/or light impact overlapped with what I actually needed just enough that I could kinda get by on that sometimes. I used to wake up every day to my whole body aching because I'd been unconsciously seeking touch in my sleep by pushing myself against the wall and my pillows over and over again. There was a deep desire to be violently ripped apart, because gentle touch was out of reach and I was overwhelmed by constant unfulfilled need.
Like the post says, actual touch becomes very overwhelming. The one time I actually got to hold someone to sleep, I couldn't actually sleep, it was just too much, something like a positive version of fear, a kind of emotional adrenaline-shivering, good but utterly exhausting and with that same sense of being emotionally high strung like a wire tensed to the point of snapping.
That might be called excitement?? My autistic ass does not have the ability to identify emotions that well lmao, but it was for sure a whole heck of a lot of something or other, and the only possibility of sleep would have been moving away to another room.
It's worth keeping in mind that most people won't ever experience it this intensely. Plenty of people get hungry, fewer have experienced actual starvation, and there's always some people who don't feel hunger much at all no matter the circumstances. So it goes for the desire to be touched too.
All this to say that yes, for many people skin to skin contact is a need like sleep is a need and if we go without it for long enough (months, years, decades) we fall apart.
I legit thought people were just exaggerating this stuff. I’m touch averse 24/7 and have never desired physical touch in my life so it’s strange (for me) to see that this is smth that actually legit affects people
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brucewaynehater101 · 3 days
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All of this is just so. Chefs kiss. I do have another layer of angst and a layer of comedy. After all, the angst stops hitting as hard if you don't have something light hearted to compare it to. After all, how can you know what darkness is if you have never seen light?
I said at the start that Tim gives discounts for secrets. He always seems to be able to tell when people lie and those that do tell him lies well. Bad things happen to them. Nothing can be directly traced back to Jane Doe, but everyone knows. Of course this does lead to some rouges and GCPD pigs trying to intimidate Jane into telling them what she knows. Everytime, Jane offers to play a game with them. 5 rounds, whoever does the rounds gets to ask the questions and no one else but others can listen. Should the challenger win a round, they get to ask one question and Jane promises to answer truthfully. If they win two, he will answer two and so on. They only get a 30 second break between each round and the Playlist is set to shuffle.
Tim lays out these rules and once the person agrees, thinking it's either a fight or sex, only then does Tim reveal they will be playing Dance Dance Revolution that Tim "upgraded" so it has the four diagonal pads too instead of the usual just 4 pads. He sets it to max difficulty for Rouges, second highest for everyone else. The most anyone has ever gotten is when Harley managed to ask Jane to questions.
Of course there are rules about the questions, like you can't ask Jane for any of their own personal details, and if Jane doesn't know the answer to a question you get one do over question. Joker has never threatened to hurt Jane over the way they sell secrets back with DDR because he thinks it's the funniest possible way to humiliate people who demand answers. Sometimes he has his henchmen challenge Jane knowing they'll lose just to laugh at them as they fail.
But on the flip side. Do you think any of the Rouges, before they knew Jane was Robin ever hired Jane? Tim would *hate* it but... those he goes on dates with are often very loose lipped about things and one time he got paid to just hang off a drug dealer's arm all night and look pretty while the guy drank. The guy was a *very* talkative drunk and after he passed out Tim was able to look through his shit with the potential excuse of "im just looking for the bathroom sweetheart~" of course none of the Rouges would ever hire Jane if they knew how old he was but Tim doesn't advertise that. Especially if he's been on the street for a few years at that point and has a reputation. He has to be at least 20, right? Right? Plus the mask and the fact it has a filter to obscure his voice he's just... there was no way for them to know, right? They can justify it to themselves all they want but if a Rouge did, they would definitely feel Really Gross.
Yeah! You've got to have some light-hearted or happy moments to really drive in that angst.
For Jane's age, it definitely depends on the Rogue and their characterization. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure Black Mask was a bit creepy to Steph when he was torturing here. So, whether or not they would feel gross/horrified depends on who it was.
I can see how they wouldn't have known (especially if Jane refused to answer questions about themself including age).
As far as the Dance Dance Revolution? That's a brilliant idea. I wonder if he's ever practiced that with YJ or Dick. I could definitely see then doing that. It would be a cute bonding activity (until they learn he used it as a form of protection).
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I Promise | Seo Changbin
-> Pairing: Seo Changbin x Journalist!Reader ft. Sibling!Yeonjun -> Request: from @kayleefriedchicken -> Synopsis: Changbin goes to stop Reader from doing something that could get her hurt. -> Warnings: Mentions of life threatening situations and almost dying. -> Word Count: 1,020 -> Requests: Open.
Changbin Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines
©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you.
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“Why are you here?” Y/N asks Changbin as he pushes past her into her hotel room. She watches as his eyes scan the small room with a single double bed, a kitchenette and a bathroom off to the side. It looks as shady on the inside as it does on the outside. 
“Why do you think?” he answers her question with his own as he turns to look at her. “You leave a vague message and then I... no-one hears from you in three days!” he begins to scold her. “Yeonjun was about to file a missing person’s report. The only reason he didn’t was because I reminded him how often you do this and that I would talk to my detective friend. I would have thought after last time you’d know better. How wrong was I?” he finishes with a scoff.  
All through his rant, Y/N has the decency to look guilty. The last time she pulled a stunt like this as she chased a story, she was hurt badly and almost died. All her family and friends concern for her tripled. They weren't going to sit by and let her get hurt again. 
Y/N nods, her eyes showing regret for not confiding in anyone. "I understand, Binnie. I made a mistake, and I apologize. I didn't mean to worry anyone. It's just... This story I’m working on is huge. It will expose some really corrupt people."   
"I know my words won't change your mind, but please think about it," he pleads with her, his voice filled with desperation.   
“I’ll be as careful as I can be. I can’t just give it up,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, you’ll just have to deal with it.”  
“Do you seriously hear yourself right now?”   
Changbin's voice rises in frustration. "You're risking yourself for a story once more. Think about the repercussions, Y/N. Your safety matters more than some awful person. I can't go through you being hurt again!" 
"I promise you, Changbin, I'll be careful," she says, her voice filled with determination. "I won't take unnecessary risks, and I'll make sure to have a plan in place. But I can't abandon this story. It's too important." 
He is about to retaliate when there’s a knock on the door. Y/N freezes unsure of who it would be. Changbin rolls his eyes and moves past her to open the door, revealing Yeonjun.  
“It’s your brother,” he tells her. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her,” he adds, speaking to his best friend this time before leaving the shady hotel room. 
“You couldn’t find a less shady hotel to hide out in?” Yeonjun cracks a joke, trying to ease the tension that had been left behind.  
“Have you come to lecture me too?” She scoffs and moves to sit on the corner of the flimsy bed. It squeaks under her weight.  
“Look, Bin’s not just your friend, he’s mine too. I know better than anyone that man protects everyone he loves. He’s just as protective over you as I am,” he tells her. 
“Because he sees me as another sister? An annoying younger sister,” she scoffs and then realises she said it out loud. She looks wide eyed at her brother. “Please pretend you unheard that.” 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “For someone as observant as you, you’re pretty blind at times.” 
“Am not!” she shouts offended. 
“Are too!” he shouts back. “You’re the only one who can’t see how in love with you he is! His protectiveness isn’t because he sees you as a sister,” he continues as he grows frustrated with his sister. “You almost dying last time you chased a story broke me in a way I didn’t think was possible. For Changbin, it completely shattered him seeing the woman he loves more than anyone else that broken and beaten. That is why he can’t sit back and watch it happen all over again. He loves you and I know you love him too, so please just hear him out, think about what we’ve both said,” he finishes more calmly. “No one wants to see you hurt again, especially me and especially Changbin.” 
With that, Yeonjun leaves the room, leaving Y/N to her thoughts.  
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It took Y/N a full hour to organize her thoughts after Yeonjun shared new information with her. Her mind began connecting the dots, from Changbin's protective nature to the subtle touches. Yeonjun was right – she's been in love with their best friend all along. Since the day Yeonjun introduced Changbin to her, she knew he was different, more special than anyone else she’s ever met. 
As she sat there, replaying memories in her mind, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. She remembered all the times Changbin had made her laugh, wiped away her tears, and stood by her side through thick and thin.  
Now she stands in front of his door, hoping he's home as she knocks. Her heart races as she waits for him to answer the door. She can't shake the memories of their time together, the late-night conversations, the talks about their hopes and dreams, and the unspoken connection that has always been between them.  
As the door swings open, her breath catches in her throat. Changbin stands there, a look of surprise on his handsome face. Without a word, she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly as tears well up in her eyes.  
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," she apologizes. "You've always been my voice of reason and your right. After last time, I should have learned from it." 
"Did something happen?" he asks, pulling away. He begins to look her over with worry. "Are you hurt?" 
The look in his eyes turns to one of relief when she shakes her head and looks back at him. 
"I love you," she declares without hesitation. "I love you more than anything." 
Tears of joy stream down Y/N's face as she holds onto him tightly. “There will be no more putting my life at risk,” her says, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “I promise.” 
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@staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups
@tinyelfperson - @laylasbunbunny - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @everythingboutkpop
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maleyanderecafe · 2 days
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Pretty Boy Panic (Visual Novel)
Created by: Bingzi
Genre: Horror/Otome
This game, as many, is still in it's demo state and it's actually created by the same person who made Pocket Lover. Currently, there is only one route available, which is Li, one of the MC's neighbors, thought there is a bit of another boy Tao, who is currently still in the development that's in the game. There are three ending so far and a guide. It's not too long of a game, but it does bring up yandere elements.
The story starts out with the Tan Xin waking up and being annoyed because of their neighbors who are being loud. They haven't slept well in a while because of them and the sounds range from lewd to suspiciously like murder. Tan Xin works in marketing with their friend/neighbor Kelly. Their boss (who just got a promotion) has been very tough on Tan Xin, making them pick up his extra work, much to their dismay. While going home, Tan Xin is extremely tired and has the option to kick one of the neighbor's doors in frustration and out comes Li, a surprisingly handsome neighbor. Tan Xin vents about how loud the neighbors are, and though most of it seems to be a different neighbor's fault, Li promises not only to talk about keeping the noise down but also buying the Tan Xin's food. After going to sleep, Tan Xin notes that it feels as if someone is watching them sleep. Tan Xin wakes up the next day to hang out with Li and while talking sees a beat up neighbor come out. It turns out he had quite a stern "talking" to by Li. Li and Tan Xin go to someplace sweet to buy food and the two talk about themselves- like Li's job and hobbies. After a while Tan Xin develops a crush on Li and sees him bringing boxes into his room. If you offer to help carry them, he snaps at Tan Xin before apologizing- as it seems there are some important computers in there. Tan Xin gets sleepier and sleepier as the days go by and even starts to lose things. One particular day, Kelly has to wake Tan Xin up before they oversleep and they head to work. Kelly asks Tan Xin to write James up for workplace harassment and the two go back. Li sees both of them coming back and asks the MC if they could start dating since they like each other. He says yes on the condition that Tan Xin stop talking to Kelly. The next day Kelly seems to have moved or gone on vacation (sure, that's what happened lol) and Li invites them into his house. There, Tan Xin notes a weird smell and while looking around, finds the dead body of Kelly. After finding out, Tan Xin finds out just how yandere Li is (stealing the MC's teeth and getting jealous). There's an option to tackle him, but either way the MC gets tased and taken into Li's home. There are a couple of other endings, one where Li breaks up (?) with Tan Xin because they don't have much in common and one where Tan Xin doesn't even confess and gets tased anyways.
If Tan Xin decides to not kick on the door, they will wake up the next day to find Tao as he gets slapped by another woman. As Tao cries, Tan Xin tries to comfort him and they start talking. Upon going to bed, Tan Xin ends up getting a call from James about the fact that they need some work done, promising to get them a good word so that they can get a promotion. The passing week is a big pain for Tan Xin, either having to work extra because of the project that James gives them, or are being forced to do extra work for refusing James. To take a break, Kelly brings Tan Xin to a bar, and ends up having to talk to one of her friends there, leaving Tan Xin alone. There, she interacts with the lady that slaps Tao, which can result in her letting it pass or flipping her off. Either way, Tan Xin ends up drinking a lot, leading to them talking to Kelly and Tao as he seems to be at the bar as well. There is a decision on whether or not Tao should bring Tan Xin home or if Kelly should, with the two compromising and both bringing them home. Tao ends up giving Tan Xin a piggy back ride and they end up sleeping at Tao's place, which slowly builds Tao and their relationship together. Later on though, Tan Xin learns that both Games and Kelly have died, with someone leaving their body parts all over the place. While going home, Tan Xin walks in on Tao and the lady from before hugging. Tan Xin runs off, devastated, but Tao runs after them, reassuring them and talking to them about how much they mean to him.
In the good ending, Tao and Tan Xin end up living together as a couple, but Tao ends up suggesting that the two of them move after learning about Kelly and Jame's death as he wants them to be safe from the serial killer.
In the normal (?) ending, Tan Xin notices a strange smell in Tao's place and looks around, only to find the lady amputated and dying. They try to help her, but Tao ends up knocking them out, only to wake up to having lost limbs just like the other lady.
In the bad ending, Tao ends up knocking Tan Xin out after the talk at the end and wakes up to Tao cutting off their arm. He mentions that now that they've lost an arm, they can be with him, unlike another girl that he seemed to be projecting onto them.
If Tan Xin goes back to their room and wakes up much later, they will end up meeting Hu, a college student that is working at tech, though he wishes to do something else. Hu apologizes for making noise and talks about his hobbies about pictures, and later offers to buy them lunch in response to them making noise. They end up going to eat at the same place that Li goes in his route and the two of them get a parfait. We find out that Li and Hu are actually brothers, catching the two talking to each other in the hallway. While at work, Tan Xin has to make James a coffee, which ends up with James eating glass and bleeding to death. Hu ends up following Tan Xin around, taking pictures of them while they sleep.
The two endings that are a bit similar are Hu and Tan Xin meeting under the cherry blossoms (after hiking for a bit, I believe), though in one ending if their affection is lower, Tan Xin will tell him that he doesn't want to have a relationship with him, while the other they simply just hike together.
In the bad ending, Tan Xin and Li talk for a bit, but Hu ends up catching them and kidnapping him. He ends up chaining them when they go out for classes, feeding them sweets to sustain them.
This game has a bit of spelling errors, but other than that it's a pretty good start. While I do think that I currently like Pocket Boyfriend a bit more since it has more elements of horror, I do think that Li himself has some good potential as a yandere. I think it's pretty neat seeing Li slowly cause Tan Xin to drift deeper and deeper into sleep as well as steal Tab Xin's molar (which is... a weird thing to steal and shrug off to be honest). We also see that he's pretty jealous, not only killing Kelly but also beating up our other neighbor for being too loud. It's very likely a lot of his "computer" hobbies are more of a cover up, considering how he reacts when Tan Xin asks to help carry boxes for him. It makes me wonder if he will get rid of James as well if Tan Xin asks him too considering that he is the source of a lot of the Tan Xin's problems. It's weird to me that there's a "bad ending" where Li doesn't see Tan Xin as someone datable and yet still tasers them in the end. It's actually comedic in a strange way, and it makes me wonder when Li started falling for Tan Xin in the first place.
Tao I feel like I have mixed feelings of as well, considering that he is a playboy but he also cries a lot. I generally am not as big of a fan of playboy characters in games, but I do really like crying. This is such a pain. In any case, Tao seems to be a projecting yandere, where he is trying to replace Tan Xin with another girl (as I remember), though we don't actually get to see who she is or what she even looks like. He also murders both James and Kelly, presumably for getting too close to the MC as well as the lady he was seeing at first. Still I don't really understand or know why he ended up meeting her again near the end since it's not really explained what they were doing together, which kind of put me off with his character. Still having a playboy type yandere is a pretty bold move regardless, so I think that it does deserve some props. Really wish we knew about his previous obsession though since I think it would really shine more into his backstory.
Hu despite being the youngest and most harmless of the yanderes actually probably has the worst ending out of all of them considering he basically kidnaps and keeps them in his studio. I do like the description on how Tan Xin struggles when they are captured by Hu though since you can really feel the hopelessness of it. I think it's also cool that Hu mimics a lot of things from Li's route since they both go to the same sweets shop and both stalk Tan Xin for a bit, though in different ways. It makes a lot more sense when you know that the two of them are brothers and that Li is actually helping Hu with getting along with Tan Xin. I think it adds a bit more of a layer to it considering that we kind of understand where Hu is getting a lot of his advice from. I think for that reason, I quite like Hu's route.
I played this first when it originally was just Li's route, so some of the opinions here might be a bit dated. I think that it's impressive they were able to finish a game with three different yandere love interests, since that's not a common thing nowadays, with all the demos. Still I think while it is great that it's a finished game with multiple routes, there could be some polishing done as well. I feel like since Li's was the first route made, he's actually one of the more weaker writing characters, where I feel like Hu is probably one of the better ones because he's more recent, so if the creator ever goes back to rewrite the other routes, I think that Li's route could probably be more expanded on. I also think that Tan Xin's name is kind of funny because it basically means like greedy in Chinese (assuming I'm using the right characters), which kind of is how you can view them considering they have like three yanderes after them. Kelly is the best character though, she stays by our side through thick and thin.
Overall, not bad for a full game, especially since it had a bit of development time. It's often rare to see a full game for yanderes now a days since currently most of them are currently in a demo state. I am curious to see if this creator will make anymore yandere games in the future that I'd like to cover.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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