#and of course on a more serious note i would not hold him accountable for starting anything when this was a clear case of systemic injustice

[queerticulate]

So to recap doing an open relationship went poorly for Loustat, so Louis started a race riot. All new plotlines, but I am so living for how this adaptation is so doing justice to how all of these characters are dramatic gay bitches who constantly create these bonkers troubling situations for themselves due to engaging in all these petty hair-brained schemes.

#this episode was almost armand level of pettiness though so now im really curious how they will adapt armand eventually #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #vampire chronicles #iwtv #loustat #i mean no offense btw i was with louis every step of the way and his rage was so just and seeing him kill racists is so fucking satisfying #and of course on a more serious note i would not hold him accountable for starting anything when this was a clear case of systemic injustice #when systemic injustice beats down marginalized people again and again and it is designed to deal severe punishment #to anyone who dares stand up for themselves... the person standing up for themselves is not accountable for the fall out #the agents of the system are

[bitchlessdino]

for you, always

Pairing: wonwoo X fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: smut with some plot, ex!seventeen member, pining, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, implicit consent, unprotected sex, phone calls

Summary: Heartbreak recovery requires patience, incentive, and Jeon Wonwoo.

author note: hello welcome back to horny hell. we have lemonade and abandon kittens to adopt, kittens being pussies, and pussies being my {redacted}. I have no real serious notes beside the fact that I feel like grown so many good relations being on here and I hope we continue to connect and reconnect for a long time.

It was initially a means of getting over your ex. He would call all the time, get back together with you, only to break up all over again. At some point, it had to stop. 

Wonwoo was sick of every little pity party you’d throw at his place and he was running low on his stock of monthly supply of snacks in a mere week. Of course, there was the matter of your emotions, which were unstable and unpredictable, the worst kind to manage. You would throw tantrums, cry excessively, and experience the ups and downs comparable to an amusement park ride.

That was when he proposed an idea. He’d check on you, and hold you accountable for every time you get too close to your ex. Originally, a flick on the forehead seemed enough, you then began to get insufferable, fighting back. Other times you’d scratch at him like a cat, trying to retrieve your phone that he’s stolen from your grasp. It was until finally, he found a strong enough method to hold you back.

Pinning your hands on either wall, unable to even twist your wrist to face your phone screen. His hands were stronger than you had anticipated, hardly moving an inch, while struggled, and then you stopped completely. Wonwoo’s eyes pierced into yours like a knife, salvia shooting down his throat, but having complete control over the situation.

“Wonwoo—”

“Can’t you just ignore him when you’re with me? What good is it keeping him around?”

“I’m not—”

“You haven’t looked up from your phone all afternoon, stay with me here!” He points out, shouting.

Your lips quiver. Unable to tear your eyes away from him. “I-it’s, it’s not easy!”

“Can’t you see I’m doing the best I can to help you forget about him?”

You feel tears brim your eyes, helpless and irrational, pounding the back of your fists at the plaster of the wall you’re still restricted to. “Can’t you see I’m trying? I can’t help but…miss him. Just…let me take the call, hmm? Hmm?”

He shut his eyes painfully, fingers tightening around your wrists in frustration, hearing you wince in pain. “…God, you’re so stupid.” 

He pulls himself forward, his head drawing closer, and soon his lips on your face. The way they moved against you was sweet and slow as if to let you know that everything is ok, and eventually, everything will be. He loosens the grip on your wrist, causing you to drop your phone to the ground, cracking its screen. Your eyes flutter in anticipation, melting in his open arms. His arms tighten around your torso and you grasp his neck. Your bodies gravitate to the bedroom and Wonwoo never leaves your side.

This single event would lead to several endless night of involved with your dearest friend. Many of those nights including hands in each other hair, lips on each other’s body, hours lost in space, and more than enough orgasms to tattoo Wonwoos name on your tongue, and he loves how you would say his name. How he’d worship your body in return like religion, never ceasing to give every inch of you his undivided attention.

And this went on for as long as you needed. Wonwoo gave you all the distraction you needed, to the point that this entanglement started to work and you wouldn’t even think about calling up your ex.

“Mmh, Wonwoo.”

Your fingers interlocked with his hair, capturing his dark locks before tugging, his soft grunts escaping before his lips tug at your folds and close around your entrance. The way his arms would encapsulate around your thighs and push your sopping cunt closer to his face was exhilarating. The gears in your stomach churn like they were shifted to overdrive, mesmerized by the owner of those same eyes that a week ago scooped you from your disgraceful state and ravished you until the following morning. You were eternally grateful.

It is then you hear a buzz in the background of your pleasure, to which Wonwoo urges you to check who it was. You palm over the sheets and barely clutch in your hand and your eyes perk up at the sight of the dreaded name. “It’s S-Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo scoffs, “Good. Pick it up.”

“B-but—”

“I know, but I think you’re ready. Go ahead.”

You hesitantly accept the call, holding up to your ear. “Hello?”

Wonwoo mouths the word, ‘speaker,’ and you follow suit. You both hear your ex-boyfriend's voice bright and clear on the other end, talking to you as if nothing has changed.

“Y/n! You’re finally accepting my call.”

You grumble imagining his face and the expression you’re so used to seeing. Nonetheless, there was a pang in your stubborn heart, a part of you that missed him at that moment. “What do you want?”

His voice was soft and tender. “Just like I’ve always wanted. To talk.”

“I have nothing to say to—You!”

Wonwoo reattaches his lips to your core, adamant about finishing the job. You feel his tongue run laps around your entrance, quenching his thirst for your arousal. You clench on his tongue, your legs entangling around his neck, softly pant. Your cheeks grow the familiar red and tried holding back your violent moans from escaping.

“Y/n? Hello?”

You shake your head. “J-just stop. Soonyoung—oh god!”

Wonwoo manages to fit his fat tongue inside, thrusting into you as his fingers make an appearance. You loosen the grip on your phone and drop it to your side, rubbing yourself into his face until you see stars. He chuckles inside your heat, losing his breath, but never feeling more alive.

“Y/n. Please. Are you busy? What am I hearing in the background?” Soonyoung persists.

“Mmh, Wonwoo, like that. Please…”

You could hear the initial confusion in your ex’s voice even through Wonwoo's efforts, “Wonwoo? Are you fucking someone while talking to me on the phone?!”

“Just hang–Fuck!”

Wonwoo sucks his fingers in a hygienic manner before lifting your legs over his shoulders, gathering his strength to take your lower body up from the surface. His exploration angry and filled with pride, ready to prove to the man on the other end it was over between you and them. Your legs cross behind his head. Your mumbling spoke louder than any other words he could think of, your moans concise and pure of ecstasy.

“Y/n. You can’t do this to me. Think of all the time we’ve spent together—”

Wonwoo grunts, rapidly moving his tongue at the speed of light and you interrupt Soonyoung with a loud gasp, “Wonwoo. You’re so good with your mouth…”

“STOP FUCKING ALREADY.”

Both lovers could hear the panic ins the man’s tone, paying it almost no mind. In a hasty attempt, you take the initiative and end the call. Wonwoo chuckles, awarding you with a kiss on your clit. “Told you you were ready. That was so sexy of you calling my name knowing he’d hear.”

“I was hoping you’d like that.” You say exasperated.

“You know me so well.” 

Smiling, he pulls himself up from his plank position and kisses you, licking the bottom of your lips for entry, and your taste still on his tongue. You hold him by the nape of his neck, reeling him towards you as either of his legs barricades your sides.

He lowers down on your body until you are completely beneath him, struggling to peel off his pants and his full length in your readied entrance. You ache for it inside you, disregarding any and all other distractions, and were soon gratified by the fullness of his rubber-covered cock plunging in you.

He rocks back into you, his hips rolling back into you at the perfect pace, kissing down your jaw in desperation. He guides your hips to follow him, your sweet voice slowly draining his sanity and patience.

“You’re so good to me. You feel so fucking amazing,” he confesses dreamily.

His body holds you greedily, showing no signs of letting go, and grasps your face to level with his. His half-open eyes can hardly look at you straight. He drowns in your praises, memorizing how your lips move saying his name, pleased with how you contract around him until you're close to your climax.

“I’m gonn—ugh—cum…please…”

“You’re so pretty when you beg,” he sighs, “Cum for me. I want to see how your face looks when you cum."

Your face contorts to an unreadable mess, stretching your cheeks and rapidly blinking until you let out a loud and long moan, twitching underneath him. Wonwoo's hands grasp your quaking frame, cumming soon after, filling your insides to the brim with his desire. Your cheeks always got rosy when you meet your climax and he's always quick to leave soft repeated kisses. He looks at you like you're his. An undeniable love in his eyes that seems never-ending, but you failed to notice, soon to already drift off into dreamland.

You lay restlessly by each other's side when Wonwoo finds you unresponsive. Your head lays comfortably on top of his exposed chest, snuggling up to his torso. His arms hug your figure, training his fingers against your flushed skin. He glances down at you dozing away, pushing stray hands away from your face, and kissing the top of your head. Your soft sighs leave your kiss swollen lips, urging a smile on the man's face.

“As long as you need. I’ll be there.”

#jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen x you #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo fanfic #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo scenarios

[el-buzz]

Too much work!! :c

A Cg! Clay x Agere! Reader fic

This was sort of self-indulgent because I’m sort of in a spot where I seriously have to focus on schoolwork which obviously can be really draining so I tried to scrap this together whenever I had free time :D

(^such a lie I did all this when I should’ve been doing work or sleeping dinwhdjsjdh)

it’s not the best but I wanted to feed myself and anyone else interested in cg! Clay

Again it’s mostly kiddo at start but then goes into more toddler/babyish reader at the end

3.1k+ words :D!! (Yeah I traded quality for quantity 😭😭)

Cross posted on Ao3 at Soft_Buzz!!

Let's just say you haven't been having the best month. Seriously, it hasn't been easy to stay happy, but you really do try your best! It's not your fault that everything just seems like too much. You wanted to help Clay with his tasks. You know, help a loved one out! Unfortunately, the paperwork and amount of tasks you had were overwhelming. Checking the safety of the old gold courses, the amount of food left before needing to send another party out for scavenging, and even the functionality of the new security that had been set up was draaaaaaaining.

Sure you did have Clay to help you out with the accounting, buuuut by the time you were done with everything, you were just too tired to even function!! At least the praise he would give you provided you with some energy and motivation. You genuinely have no idea how Clay seems to find joy in any of this and even has the energy to participate in other activities like his sad book club. You weren't barely even able to spare time to read for funsies or scrapbook at all!

Currently, you were doing the most simple of reports in the admin building, but your brain just will not budge. You just can't concentrate or recall any information at all. You read parts of paperwork, but gosh it all just seems like mumbo jumbo to you. Poor you, staring at the paper desperately hoping for things to align and make sense, but you were just so tired and irritated too!!

All this serious business was genuinely so not your forte, but you wanted to impress Clay by helping him out. But clearly, your plan wasn't working out too well... You didn't want to disappoint him. You wanted him to be proud of you and tell you how good you've done!!

Overwhelming guilt got a hold of you, and tears began to spill down your cheeks. You just wanted a break. You needed a break. You couldn't handle this. It was too much. Gosh even your skin felt like too much and chewing on one of your fingers clearly wasn't helping. The pen in your hand shook from your hold. Your breath hitched, and it started to get hard to breathe. Ignoring your tears, you decided to try to continue the report with shaky handwriting. Tears fall onto the fresh ink. You tried to clean them off by swiping away, but you only managed to smudge the ink and ruin the report.

That was your last straw. Nope no no no. You whined. As you start taking in your situation, you begin to sob. You throw your pen and crumble the stupid report out of frustration. You just couldn't anymore. You sniffled and tried to hold back your emotions. The last thing you wanted to do was make a mess that you would have to clean up. You let the tears fall as you hiccup and bring your legs up to your chest.

Unfortunately, your state doesn't improve when you hear the door of the admin building creak open. Shoot shoot shoot. You panic as you try to get rid of your tears by rubbing them off with your hands. You quickly get back to sitting correctly and try to hide your face from view. The last thing you wanted was for Clay to see you like this.

"Heyy Y/n," Clay says as he enters. From the sound of his tone, he clearly had his usual upbeat smile. "You've seriously got to try that new cheese combo that Viva made. It's killer" He takes note that you're quiet and really focused on some paperwork. "Okay.. you're focused. I respect that." You sniffle. "Wait a minute.. Are you sick? Is that why you aren't talking? Your throat hurts or something?" You tremble as he starts to walk over to you and reaches to feel your forehead. Well, you tried..

You look up at him and start to tear up again. "Woah? Hey, what's going on? You're kinda freaking me out?" The concern is evident on his face, and your heart warms at the thought of him being attentive to you. But gosh were you also scared to death right now, and to make matters worse, you started to feel that fuzzy headspace encase your mind.

You whine, not sure of what to say to him, and open your arms for a hug while hiccuping. "Can I have a hug? P-please?" Your voice cracks as you speak.

Clay sighed and took you in his arms, hugging you tightly. "There, there. Take your time," he soothed, rubbing your back. "It's okay, now. I'm here. You've got me." After a few minutes, and a bit of protest from you, he pulled away and wiped the corners of your damp eyes with his thumb, smiling with much love and care in the world.

By now your breathing had evened, and all you had left was some sniffling. "Now..," Clay starts as he caresses your cheek, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You pout and look down while fidgeting with your fingers. After a few seconds, you nod. "It's just..." you bring your thumb up to your mouth, "too mush."

Clay tilts his head at that. "What's too much?" He questions as he runs his hand through your hair and reaches into his pocket for a lollipop that Viva had given him earlier.

"Work!" You whined before sniffling and rubbing your hand against your nose.

"You feel overwhelmed because of your tasks?" Clay questions you softly as he removes your thumb from your mouth and hands you a lollipop. As you take it from his hands, you whine and nod. "Oh baby...," he mutters as he caresses your face, "but I thought you liked doing them?" You put the lollipop into your mouth and try to calm yourself before speaking again.

"I did..," you look up at him, "I wanted to help you. I really did!" You exclaim at him, but then start to look away with teary eyes. "B-but, then everyfing kept piling up an- and I was tired and started being slow and getting distracted and suddenly I barely had any time for myself!"

Clay just sighs softly and pulls you onto his lap when you finish speaking. "Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?? We could've sorted the problem out before it got this bad." He questions you.

You bit your trembling lip while still looking away from him. "Didn wanna upset you," you pouted as you felt yourself fall into a younger mindset.

"Oh honey, you know you'd never disappoint me. I love you too much to ever feel that way towards you."

"No even a lil?" You ask while looking up at him in awe.

"Not even a lil," he answered with a reassuring smile while leaning in to kiss your forehead.

"The only thing that really disappoints me is the fact that I never realized you felt this way," He gives you a tight squeeze and nuzzles your neck. You return his embrace with new tears rolling down your cheeks. You tighten your hold scared that if you don't, you might just fall apart.  The both of you stay quiet for a moment as he hugs you and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while rubbing your back. You hiccup and sniffle, but you don't dare to loosen your hold. Not that Clay minded. He'd been concerned for you and just wanted to give you the best comfort he could provide.

After calming down, you loosen your hold. Clay cups your face with both of his hands and starts littering your face with kisses. You persist on moving away from him but he keeps his hold on your face.

"Hmno.!.. M' icky!" You snuffle.

"Hmm true... but when has that ever stopped me?" He questions with a smug smile on his face. Your silence answers him for you. "Exactly. But you do have a point," Clay states as he grabs a tissue or two from the desk. "Here." He brings it up to your face and helps you blow your nose. "There we go. Much better now right?" He then chucks the dirty tissue into a trash can.

"Mhm, fank you!" You smile back at him while.

"No problem, baby." He responds and boops your nose, which gets a giggle out of you.

"You know.. you do such a good job all the time, but you clearly need a break and that's okay. So..," Clay picks you up. "That's what we're gonna do. Take a break."

You start squirming in his hold. "Buh wah bout tha wok?!?" You babble while reaching out for the report you had started to redo earlier. Clearly that desperate need to be a sort of workaholic kicked in.

"Ah ah ah," Clay tuts you while bouncing you in his arms, "shhh about that now. We're taking a break. End of discussion." He asserts while petting your head as you pout.

"Plus someone is clearly too small to be doing big adult work. Looks like I've got a little baby on my hands " He says while cooing at you and pinching your cheeks. You were about to whine and complain, but a quick peck on the cheek quieted you right up. "Hm much better."

"Gesss it wouldn huwt," you mutter and start to cling to Clay.

"No it wouldn't," Clay reaffirms to you while making your head rest on his shoulder. Clay opens the door. "Hang tight. We're going back to your pod for some little time okay?"

"Mkay." You wrap your limbs around him and hide your face in the crook of his neck. Gosh if anyone saw you right now, you'd just combust from embarrassment.

Sensing your unease, Clay gives you a kiss on your head and starts to pat and rub your back. "Don't worry we'll be there before you know it." You just respond to him with a soft whine and start to fidget with the stick of your lollipop.

•••

When you get inside your pod, Clay walks past the living room and into your bedroom. He set you down and your bed and gives you your stuffie. Now with you focused on your lil buddy, Clay takes the opportunity to get you a comfortable set of clothes. He comes backs, and you let him help you into them. Clay can't help himself and decides to tickle you to get a giggle out of you, which works of course. You squirm and playfully fight back. He soon stops and chucks your big kid clothes into a laundry basket.

"Ok, now how about you get your little stuff and toys out while I set up a play area in the living room?" He asks while turning back to you.

"Yeah!!" You jump up and start to get your stuff from under the bed.

"Alright," Clay chuckles and pats your head before getting some soft blankets, pillows, and some stuffies and exiting the room.

You, very enthusiastically, search through your stuff trying to pick out some of the things you want such as your paci, a sippy cup, and some stim toys! When you were done, you put everything back in the box as neatly as you could and shoved it under the bed.

You quickly run out of the room with newfound enthusiasm and everything in your hands, maybe dropping a toy or two on your way over. But it's okay! You'll come back for them, probably.

In the living room, Clay has now set up blankets and arranged the pillows on the floor and couch. He had also quickly grabbed some grapes from the fridge and put them in a bowl on the coffee table. Now, Clay pulled out some paper and crayons that you had stored in one of your cabinets, in case you felt like drawing or scribbling. He just wanted to make this a good experience for you!

Clay looks up and sees you running over to him, "Careful there. You don't wanna fall over and get hurt." He chuckles.

"Nah I won-" you begin to brush him over before you stumbled over and start to fall over, making you drop all of your stuff.

"Woah!!" Clay quickly places down the blank paper and hurries over to catch you before you fell hard.

You whine and look down with a frown due to the random scare and dropping everything.

"Oh chin up, sweetheart." He speaks softly while taking out the bare lollipop stick and replacing it with your pacifier, which you happily took. "Just a lil scare but you'll always be safe with me. Let me take me take care of this"

You whine and shake your head. "Hmno! I help!" You remark and start to get on with the business of picking up your mess like the very independent kiddo you desperately wanted to be.

"Hey! Nope no c'mon..." Clay picks you from under your armpits like, one might with a cat, and then settles you right on his hip.

You look at him with an apparent frown and pout. "I help."

"No. Not today. Let me do this for you. Let me take care of my baby." He caresses your cheeks before giving a few pecks on the forehead and cheek.

"You may want to be a big kid, but you definitely need to be small. Just want to show you a token of my appreciation for the hard hard work you've been doing, yes?" He looks as your for further confirmation.

You sigh. "Okay.., jus fo today," you mumble slightly upset, but you wrapped yourself around Clay anyway. He smiled before humming and getting to work, which honestly helped you relax and start to nod off. The pacifier in your mouth just helped to make everything feel fuzzy and sleepy..

Once done, Clay set you down the floor on top of the blankets and pillows. You plop yourself right on top of them and start to make grabby hands at one of your stuffies on the couch. Happily, Clay hands it over to you and you begin to snuggle your buddy. He coos at the cute sight in front of him, causing you to blush but be more playful.

"Gosh you are so adorable, hun. How did I end up with the world's cutest baby?" He pinches your cheeks, and you just smile and babble back him. "Who's the cutest baby? Huh? Huh? Is it you?" He tickles and nuzzles you. You kick your feet in the air and tap your chest with one of your hands. "Yeah, that's right! You are! You're the cutest one!"

You move onto your tummy and crawl over to the stimmy toys that you had brought with you. They are in such pretty colors. Clay sits down beside you and follows along and entertains your little antics. Doing little things like grabbing a toy, showing you how to use it, and handing it over for you to try it too! Unfortunately, you start to be impulsive and play a little too rough with them by grabbing and throwing them against the ground. Seems like the both of you might have underestimated the extent of your regression. Woops...

"Looks like we gotta make a change of plans huh lil bub?" He pushes the toys away from you, but you whine and reach out for them, almost dropping your pacifier in the process. "You're too small to be playing with these right now. Oh look!!" He hands you your stuffy from earlier. "This friend wants some cuddles. C'mon give him a big big hug!" He made an example of him hugging an invisible teddy and you followed suit.

As you were busy tending to your teddy, Clay made sure to move the smaller and harder toys away from you. He didn't want you getting hurt or accidentally breaking something because of some rough playing or you putting things where they shouldn't go. Instead, he surrounds you with soft textured stuff like your blankets and stuffies.

When he was done, he decided to offer you some of the grapes he had gotten. "You want some bubba?"

You gasp and nod. "Mhm mhm I wan pleaseeee!!"

"Here you go," he gives you a few, and you happily start chewing and eating them.  You even pretend to feed you stuffie. Hey, they get hungry too! Clay chuckles and then gives you a kiss on the forehead.

After a while of playing with your fluffy friends, you start you feel your eyelids and head droop a little. You look at Clay and tug at his sweater.

"Hm?"

"eep..." You whine and rub your tired eyes.

Clay takes in your state and pulls you onto his lap. "I see." He slides one of his hands up and down your back. "You want some warm tea?" He whispers and you nod softly.

"Sippy or bottle?"

"Baba.." you manage to mutter. A small pout forms on your lips. If you were to be honest, you'd admit that you were a little upset over regressing to a younger state than you would've liked.

Clay gets up and places you on the couch before walking away and into the kitchen to make you some tea.  You get comfortable and bury yourself under a the blankets, looking all snug like bug.

By time Clay came back with the tea in a baby bottle, your pacifier looked like it was about to fall out of your mouth. Chuckling to himself, he takes it and places it on the coffee table. He carefully moves you, so he can sit beside you. You start to wake up a little and start to whine while making grabby hands at him.

"Shh shh, I've got you." He grabs you and moves you onto his lap to comfortably feed you your babas.

You snuggle up against him and rub your face on his torso. He brings the bottle up to your lips and you take it into your mouth. The soft and warm feeling of the tea fills you and makes you feel ever so small yet happy.

Clay starts to hum and pat your side while holding the bottle up for you. You lightly place one of your hands on top of his and he caresses your soft cheek.

After a while, you were close to finishing the bottle, but sleep seemed to win over you. Clay noticed this and placed the bottle on the coffee table. He moved, so he could be laying down with you on top of him. Clay placed your stuffy in your arms and wrapped his arms around you.  Smiling at the sight of you before him, he gives you one last kiss on the head.

Author’s Note:

Lowkey, I felt like I was yapping after reader and Clay left the admin building. I just desperately wanted to reach 3k words for some reason aghhh and I so missed the opportunity to have Clay read to the reader

I had originally planned to make this into two separate parts but honestly I just wanted this over with so it is definitely rushed but comme ci, comme ça (at least I finally made a fanfic that I actually go all the way through to finish woo!! 🎉‼️)

#Ironically enough this might be the last fanfic I do in a while if not ever because I’ve decided to put #attention on academic work related stuff. I know I know I’ll never learn to take breaks but Ughhghh I’ll #take breaks when I’m a nursing home or sum 😭😭 for now it’s just time to hit the grind. #trolls 3 #clay #clay x reader #being brave out here and using clay x reader in the post just to see what happens #if i get any hatred i’ll immediately remove it :/ #trolls agere #sobbing #what the duck did I just write??

[lust4life01]

Go Go dancin tonight (Part 1 )

Warnings!! 18+ stripping, threesome, oral (m, receiving), praising/degrading language, penetration maybe more idk.

pairing: Greg House x f/Reader x James Wilson

It had been a relatively quiet night despite the flashing lights and blaring music, unfortunately though this was bad news for your bank account. You had taken on the job of dancing half naked in front of horny guys as a side hustle, apparently you completely misjudged just how cost effective living in New Jersey could be. Anyway, you still managed to waggle your hips and bat your eyelashes enough to end up with a new designer bag or some new heels by the end of the week, courtesy of the old cheating bastards. 

As you were a couple boring dances into the night you just needed some excitement. Someone interesting to help pass the time but of course with your luck an extremely dull looking man requests you. You sigh before putting on your best showgirl face and trail over to him, pulling your leg up onto his table staring into his eyes. You point to your thigh band without muttering a word.

The man sits dumbly for a second before realising what you were insinuating, bringing out his battered wallet, he fishes for a 20 dollar note and places it inside the band.

Raising your eyebrows you keep your leg and glance the same. If you were going to spin around and perform on a poll, in your underwear, for this guy he could cough up more than a lousy 20.

Catching on, he grabs another 20 from his wallet and in doing so tries to make conversation as you reluctantly accept the measly $40.

“Boy you don't ask for much do you? He mumbles sarcastically, placing the other 20 into your thigh band.

You give a mocking smile back and lean closer into him to whisper in a hush tone

“If you looked like me, would you dance for a lousy 20?”

 Not expecting your reply he lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head slowly 

“Suppose not.”

As you're about half way through the dull man's dance you spot two handsome middle aged men walking through the door. One looks pretty apprehensive about being here, probably scared of being seen as disrespectful or something. While the other man's face looked like he had just won an all inclusive holiday.

Still performing you can't help but keep your gaze on them, analysing them. Trying to figure out how well they could play your game. As your eyes stick to them like honey, the excited man holding a cane caught your prolonged stare. Holding his gaze as the other man rambled on in his ear, you give him a cheeky grin and a wink before turning away to finish your cheap dance.

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

“House I seriously don't know about this I mean I-” Wilson rambles on at the door, looking around at everyone in the club.

House’s wide grin fades as he cuts Wilson off with a huff  “Will you just shut up and pick one?” pointing to the multiple women dressed in lingerie and big heels.

He most definitely wasn't letting Wilson back out of this now. Not when he had seen the sheer amount of dancers dotted around. House's eyes scanned the club as he spoke, feeling someone's eyes pried over to him and that's when he catches your stare. Fuck you were hot. He knew just by the way your siren eyes pierced his, that you were going to be fun.

Letting out a flustered scoff Wilson turns to House, who is too busy peering over at you.

 “Pick one, what like they're some donuts in a box, I mean it just feels a little degrading and- What are you looking at?”

 He looks over House's shoulder trying to see what had caught his attention so quickly, when he laid his eyes upon you.

Wow. Okay maybe staying for a while wouldn't hurt.

“Sweet Jesus, her. I pick her.”

 House turns to Wilson and furrows his brows in slight jealousy 

“No. Pick another one, I saw her first.”

James shakes his head with a serious expression “You said to pick a dancer and I picked her, so she's gonna be my dancer. And plus you don't own her, she can dance for whoever she wants.”

 Before pausing he continues “which will be me.”

House laughs at him in irony “Yeah well when you were too busy whining she was eye fucking me, Mr Hypocrite” 

 Wilson crossed his arms over his chest as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah sure she was House, was she also doing a cartwheel while playing the guitar?”

“Mock all you want but it's obvious she’ll choose me, I mean she works in a strip club for god sake, I'll be surprised if she isn't riddled with daddy issues.And I'm older so I seem more well, daddier than you”

House says while giving Wilson a smug look.

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

After finishing the dance you walk over to the bar to have a chat with the very kind barman who gives you a free shot to loosen up the night. When downing the tequila shot you hear the voice of someone to the right of you.

“Drinking on the job? No judgement, I do too but sometimes the guys im poking with a needle can get a little funny” 

You turn your head and realise it was the man from earlier, and the other cute one sat to the right of him.

Smirking you decide to entertain the very handsome yet funny guy.

 “Well most people like tits and booze, not sure tequila and hospitals go together too well. Unless you're giving out a different type of needle.”

He smirked, now you had him really interested, and not just in your body.

“What if I'm both a doctor and a junkie?”

“Hm, junkie and medical malpractice I can't tell which one turns me on more” You mock as he sips his drink keeping his eyes stuck to your lips.

Before he could answer you lean forward trying to catch a glimpse of his timid friend

“Is your friend also a doctor?”

Wilsons head lifted from his drink over to you at the mention of him, giving you a tight lipped smile

“Oh yeah he saves cancer kiddies, boring I know” House jokes before turning the conversation back to you.

“So how much does a pretty girl like you charge for a dance?”

Moving your eyes from the cocky guy's friend over to his you can't help but want to entertain them both. It was obvious the timid one also wanted a dance from you, but apparently the blue eyed doctor was far more forward with his desires.

“Well i'm very expensive you see, how much is a doctor like you willing to pay?” you say while looking him up and down.

“$100.” The blue eyed man says.

“$150.” the timid man challenges.

There it was, you knew there was more than shyness to him, a good looking man like him could have a girl like you begging for it.

House turned his head to Wilson with a pissed off look before turning back to you

“Fine. $200”

Laughing at their competition for your attention you look between them both.

“Oh come on boys there's enough to go around, as long as you have the cash.”

You would have let them sit and bid higher for your service but for once you actually wanted to dance for them. You wanted them to see you strip, the way your body can swing around a poll.

Smirking, you grab the blue eyed doctor's hand and begin to make your way to the private rooms. Wilson clearly did not catch onto your statement, staying seated in defeat as you grabbed Houses hand. Once you realised the other man stayed sat you turned to him, cocking an eyebrow.

“You not coming? You seemed pretty keen early”

And with that he immediately stood up and followed you to the room, on your trip across the bar you were itching to know their names. Turing to the tall confident man you ask

“So what should I call you? Dr what?”

 “Call me Greg.”

“And what about you baby?” you ask the brown eyed doctor sweetly. You wanted to see how the clearly more confident man would react to giving his friend a more intimate name.

Smiling and blushing at your pet name he clears his voice before telling you to call him James.

The private room was lined with cushioned walls, with a big round booth couch.

In the middle of the circle there was a round platform with a long silver poll attached. There was a small table at the front of the room, lined with booze, an ashtrays and a pack of smokes.

House and Wilson took in the aesthetic of the room before Wilson took a seat on the couch and House grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the table.

Finally situated in their seats, Wilson gawking at you and House sat drinking from the bottle also infatuated with you, as you slowly strutted around the poll, letting them take in every part of your body. The song 'Money Honey' by Lady Gaga played softly in the background as you slid down the poll, now sat directly in front of them on your knees with your legs spread wide apart and your arms up connected around the poll.

“So do you usually take two men at a time?” House asks and you giggle, very aware he wasn't just asking about dancing for two men.

Wilson groaned into his hands, before turning to the eager man sitting beside him “Jesus House.”

‘ House. Hmh as in Doctor House? Greg was boring. House fit him better’ you thought to yourself.

You look at the flustered man and back to House to answer the question.

“Well it's usually against the rules, you know the whole three's a crowd thing but I can make an exception for sexy doctors, House.”

 You say drawing out the name, completely ignoring the fact he told you to call him Greg.

“Are there any other rules?” James asks, you think it's sweet. You’re standing in front of him with your legs spread and he's still keen to make sure you're comfortable.

“Yes. No touching, or security will throw you out regardless of your dicks in your hands.” You say smiling. 

Wilson nods, starting to get impatient he asks “How should we pay you?”

You lean forward exposing your chest from your small outfit in front of the men's eyes. 

House's eyes widen and he bites his lip, pulling two $100 dollar bills from his pocket and placing them in your bra.

Wilson does the same but as he does you lick your lips and stare up at him with fuck me eyes.

“What do you want me to do James? Anything you want, just say it.”

He takes a breath, feeling slightly overwhelmed with all the things he wanted you to do in that moment.

“Can you bend over? Please?”

You give an endearing smile at his politeness and stand up, bending over in front of him.

“So do you guys like fuck together or something?” you ask out of pure curiosity.

Their eyes were glued to your ass, the question startling Wilson who let out a nervous laugh and began to protest while House stayed silent with his lip in between his teeth admiring your behind.

“No, no God no!” Wilson threw his hands up in defence but what you found more interesting was House's silence.

You turn back around bring your face inches from House’s and stared at his lips.

“And what about you? House. What do you want mhm?”

Not a second goes by before he answers. “To touch you.”

“Well my boss wouldn't be too happy about that. Pick something else.” You tell him in a sweet yet demanding tone.

He persists but the way you teased him had him nearly exploding

“I didn't mean now, somewhere your boss wouldn't know about it” He replies ignoring your question.

You never usually felt so worked up and flustered by clients, to you it was just a job but with these too it was different. You wanted them both. If you were honest you wanted House to touch you, while James watched.

“I'm not a whore.” you reply while still remaining inches away from his lips.

He smirks and stares back, matching your energy. He could see behind your cool composure.  He could tell you wanted him and Wilson to fuck you even if you acted like you werent fazed by the men.

“I wouldn't pay.”

Moving away you stand up and sit in between House and Wilson, facing towards Wilson and your back to House. Ignoring his advances.Wilson’s eyes had trailed over your chest in the process.

“Do you want me to take off my bra James?”

“God yes” He hums out

As you start to take off your bra, House scoffs from behind you which makes you smile. His obvious frustration was such a turn on, you couldn't help it. Taking the dollar bills from earlier and slipping them into your underwear you undress while keeping deep eye contact with the very attractive doctor sat in front of you.

“Hey it's my turn, he already got a request. And why do you call him by the name he gave but not me? His surname Wilson by the way.” He whines in jealousy, only seeing your bear back instead of your tits.

“You wasted your chance House, plus he's more polite than you”

Toying with him was more amusing than you initially thought it would be. But you also were trying to pay less attention to House because if you didnt you knew he'd have you bent over in some hotel room screaming his name.

Your tits were now fully exposed to Wilson, throwing the small piece of fabric other at House, just being careful enough to not expose your chest to him. You grin at the way his face lights up, but you also notice the way his pants tighten.

“Do you want to fuck me James? Are you turned on right now? You whisper in his ear, not close enough to touch him but loud enough for House to hear.

He looked up from your tits and to your face “Do you want me to fuck you? Are you turned on?” He asks sternly.

You can't help but be slightly taken back as just a minute ago he was as shy as anything. However, you just smile up at him and get up from the couch taking the bottle from House's hands and you take a large swig.

“Fuck me, theyre beautiful” House mutters under his heavy breath, finally getting a glimpse at your chest.

You stand back up on the poll and with one hand on the poll and the other attached the whiskey bottle and dropped your body so your legs were spread

“How long have you been doing this?” James asks 

 “3 months.”

“Does striping and dancing for horny men get you off? Do you ever want to fuck a client?” House pipes up.

“Does taking my clothes off for mostly cheating men make me wet? I mean sometimes. Have you ever slept with a patient?”

House quickly deflects onto Wilson “He fucked his dying patient, not the whole prince charming you think he is huh.”

Wilson glares over at House “Well that's not fair, it wasn't like that I merely-”

You interrupted not wanting to know more, you weirdly liked he was a little selfish. 

“You don't need to explain yourself to me James. Everyone has needs right?”

House lets out a chuckle staring in between your legs “You can say that again.”

“Sorry I didn't ask earlier but what's your name?” James asks, realising both him and House had only directly spoken to you and didnt ask your name.

“Cherry.” you answer quickly.

“Not your dirty stripper name, what's your actual name sweetheart?” House asks, he was now set on not only fucking you but also trying to figure you out.

You interested him. You were his new sexy puzzle.

“Why should I tell you?” you ask innocently now sat down with your legs in the splits position.

“So I know what name I'm supposed to moan when I'm buried inside you.”

House states while grabbing the bottle from your hand.

The amount of sexual tension in the room must have gotten you high, as you wanted that, but not just him. You wanted James as well, were they that horny for you they'd have a threesome? You woudn't usually do this. You don't fuck clients, you just dont. However, you didn't even see them as clients anymore, just some older men looking for mutual fun.

“(y,n).”

“Is that a yes?” 

House asks at your eagerness to give in. If you weren’t going to fuck him you would have stuck with your stripper name. Played it safe. But you didn't.

Now lying on the platform you arch your back and stare up to House.

“I'll tell you what House, I'll fuck you, because i'm really turned on right now but only on one condition.”

He hums in amusement looking at Wilson's disappointed face. House had won. Again. 

“Yeah and what's that princess (y,n)” He asks with a cocked brow.

“I want James there too. Not just watching either.”

James' face lights up with a smile but also slight concern. God you meant you wanted both of them to fuck you.

House tensed his jaw before thinking about it. Jesus he must have been drunk of the whisky, or just drunk from you but either way he realised his desire for you in that moment was greater than his pride. 

“Okay.” House says looking over at Wilson.

Wilsons face screws up at House's agreement. I mean he wanted you too but could he really deal with House mentioning a threesome anytime he wanted something from him. 

“Okay? Just like that?” Wilson asks in shock.

“Look, I'm not gonna touch you, you're not gonna touch me. We both get to taste heaven tonight. Win, win."

Wilsons held his face in his hands unsure what to do, until you had manoeuvered from your place and was now currently standing behind him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, breaking the no touch rule and leaned into his ear, begging him sweetly.

“Come on James, I need you. Sharings carings.” you moan into his ear, your voice heavy with desperation.

#house md #gregory house #greg house smut #james wilson smut #james wilson #lust4life01

[adoristsposts]

enforcers | jack hughes AU

author's note; i finished ninth house yesterday and it has instilled me with so many feelings and thoughts. so many that i had to split this into parts LMAOO summary; when magic runs wild there need to be enforcers. however you never thought that picking up the widely respected job would bring you right back to your childhood crush. word count: 2.5k warnings; gore? swearing characters; Reader x Jack Hughes, platonic!Reader x Luke Hughes

Jack Hughes was unmistakably gorgeous. You could still remember stumbling through the halls, trying your hardest to catch his eye as you passed him. When he'd spot you a large smile would light up all his boyish features. He'd nod to you then move on, and you'd hold your breath until you were sure he was too far away to notice how your shoulders would relax. Of course, his looks weren't the only thing perfect about him. Although they did certainly give him a leg up. He excelled in every area at school. Curses, rituals, the arcane. It was as if magic was drawn to him. One time you and Luke had decided to have a little fun of your own and try your hand at Summoning. It had gone disastrously wrong, with both of you on his bed shrieking at the scorpions crawling on his floor. Like one large hive mind, they were growing and shrinking and moving as one united creature with one huge dark shell and thousands of stingers. Jack had heard the commotion and, like a knight in shining armour, come in and banished the creatures quickly. Not scorpions, he reprimanded. Some magical counterpart that would have killed you in no time if he hadn't been there. He never stopped smiling at you in the hallways. His little brother's best friend.

You hadn't seen him since he had graduated. Older siblings were a complicated matter to people like you and Luke. Too busy doing what they're doing and almost dying doing it to come home for family dinner. The night of graduation you ate at the Hughes' house. You saw Quinn for the first time in a few years. The boy-man, now- had enveloped you in a slightly uncomfortable hug and congratulated you time and time again on your good marks. "What are you going to do?" Quinn had asked both of you. Luke had laughed and said something about going into sports. Being one of the people behind the scene who pricked their finger every full moon so that their team was a little more likely to find a gap in defense to score a goal. You had squared your shoulders and tried to look serious. Not like an 18-year-old child. "I'm going into Enforcing." Quinn had smiled and nodded. A better reaction than you had gotten from anyone other than Luke. Who of course had asked if you would accept bribes from him. "Jack went into that. Maybe you two will cross paths." Your heart panged involuntarily at the mention of your high school crush from Freshman year. You gave him a thin-lipped smile and said "Hopefully."

And now there you were, in front of an old townhouse. It looked completely run down. With old architecture and accents that made the whole thing seem like it belonged somewhere in the past. The people around you didn't spare it a second glance. No doubt it had been glamoured by Enchanters at some point. If you didn't know it was there, you never would. Unnoticeable. You found that hard to believe. It was such an eyesore next to the beautiful buildings of New Jersey. It was dark and ominous. And honestly, it gave you the heebie-jeebies. The Ahriman. Lord of darkness and chaos. The darkness seemed accounted for in the way it tilted towards you like it was beginning to fall over. The chaos bit was for you to sort out, you supposed. Little advice had been given to you. Other than "Be like Jack Hughes!" no one had much to say. Because of course, Jack was still the golden boy. You raised a hand to the door. In contrast to the peeling paint of the building, it was black and gleaming. Before you could make the decision to knock on the shining wood, a shadow appeared in the frosted glass and the door in front of you had swung inward. "No way!" Jack Hughes hadn't changed much. His hair was much longer and in need of a haircut. And he was missing a tooth. As if he noticed you noticing it, his fingers touched his lips lightly and he said "Yeah, I've gotta get that fixed. Haven't had time." When you just continued to stare at him, gobsmacked, he opened the door wider and said. "Come in, come in."

The place looked more like a home than a place of work. In fact, Jack himself was in grey sweatpants and a hoodie that had New Jersey Devils splashed across the chest. You pointed at it, "Luke's working for them." "He is?" Jack's shocked expression surprised you. He had always been a lovely boy. If anyone would keep up with their family, you had expected it to be him. You supposed not. "Yeah. The school set him up with some internship with their head Favour." Which meant Luke would be helping someone else prick their finger every full moon. But he got to sit it on practices and games and talk to the players (and the hot fans, he had added with glee). "Oh," Jack said. His lips pursed and you felt like you had rubbed his nose in his lack of knowledge. Good. Luke deserved better than that. Even though it really wasn't Jack's fault. "I didn't know your last name till now." Jack changed the topic. "I would have cleaned myself up a little if I had known it would be you." You gave him a doubtful look. "Oh come on, Hughes. I saw you in pajamas all the time in high school." "Yeah but-" He turned pink and looked at his shoes. "It's different." You couldn't stop the blush that crept onto your cheeks. No, you tried to steel yourself, this was a serious job, and you wanted to be taken seriously."Aren't I supposed to get a mentor?" You asked. He looked up shyly at you through his eyelashes. You wanted to tell him to pull himself together. He was twenty-two years old. He could deal with a teenage girl's inquiries. "You're looking at him." He told you. That same grin from the hallways uncurled on his face and you could see all the parts of it that had changed. Or maybe your imagination had warped the beauty of it. Because Jack Hughes was still gorgeous. Maybe even more than he had been before. And he was in charge of making sure you didn't die on the job. Assuming being around him wouldn't distract you enough for you to take care of that yourself.

Jack had explained as well as he could that the Ahriman was more like a college dorm than anything else. There were buildings like this set up over the world, a revolving door of Enforcers coming in and out. He was the head of the New Jersey department, one of the youngest. Which fit him obnoxiously well. Your things were already unpacked in your room. The walls covered in familiar posters, and your closet full of clothes. Jack wandered in behind you and leaned against your doorframe. When you looked at him he was studying every part of it. "What?" You asked sharply. He smiled at your slight hostility. "I've never been in your room before." Your eyebrows drew together. "Obviously not. You wouldn't have noticed me if it wasn't for Luke." You said, waving your hand dismissively. "Oh please, I was the one who told Luke to befriend you in Kindergarten." When you looked at him he wasn't looking at you. Instead looking out your window, eyes squinting slightly against the sun. "What?" "I can like, feel magic." He stated, as though it was the simplest thing he had ever said. "And I could feel it coming off of you. It makes it easier for me to read people. And your magic felt warm and nice." You snorted, "Like peeing in the ocean?" "Yeah." He laughed, "Like that. Anyway, I'll leave you to it." He began to walk down the hallway. You heard his footsteps pause. Because of course, after years of sleeping over at Lukes, you could recognise them. Like you were in high school again, you held your breath. "We have a job tomorrow morning. I'll wake you up." He called. "Cool!" You said after him. Then you heard his footsteps wander down the stairs to the first floor. You let go of your breath. "Cool?" You hissed at yourself quietly. "Jesus, get a grip." The house creaked loudly, as though it didn't appreciate you using the lord's name in vain.

Jack wasn't lying about waking you up. It was still dark out when he did, and he was shockingly gentle about it. He ran a hand up and down your arm, cooing "Hey, you gotta get up." You groaned into your pillow. It was like many mornings when your mother had woken you up for school. Then you realised the hand was too large to be hers, and the voice was deep and familiar, and you shot up. Your sudden movement startled Jack, who laughed. "Good morning, then." You ushered him out of your room, telling him to give you twenty minutes to get ready. You showered and changed quickly, brushing your teeth twice out of nerves. Your first job. It could be anything from exchanging quick introductions with someone important to banishing escaped demons. Guiltily you hoped for the second one. Perfect-looking enforcers were never taken seriously. Jack's missing tooth gave him a perfect demeanour. Relaxed in his jeans and sweatshirt. But a simple smile showed you he meant business. And you were sure if he grinned a certain way he could maybe, just maybe, look menacing. His charms had a certain power of their own, though. You realised you had been too busy studying him as he led you through the empty streets to ask him what the job was.

When you saw a familiar figure, the answer was easy to guess. Supervising a ritual. Of course, that wasn't the most important thing to you that morning. Because you squealed and called, "Luke?" The boy looked up from his phone and his jaw went slack. "No way!" He exclaimed. So similar to his brother, you mused to yourself. The two of you hadn't seen each other since he had started his internship over the summer. You rushed into his arms quickly, letting him spin you around in excitement. "I knew I had to show some stuck-up Enforcer inside, but I didn't think it would be you." "Stuck up?" "Never." Then he turned to his brother. They exchanged a very manly hug and some quick words. You had to remember that Luke had seen Jack a lot more than you had over the past couple of years. It wasn't awkward for them to be in each others’ presence again. Luke turned around and began to lead the two of you two into the stadium. He nodded at everyone he passed, who all smiled at him and sometimes offered him short greetings. Jack fell back next to you and leaned down so you could hear him say quietly "These rituals are the worst." "Why?" You asked. Ghosts? Demons? "Dreadfully boring." He wiggled his eyebrows and took two large strides to wrap his arm around Luke and start up a conversation with him instead. He looked over his shoulder at you in time to catch you rolling your eyes.

After an hour and a half of watching Luke excitedly stare as his boss, a lean silver fox of a man who insisted you call him Dean instead of by his last name (which he hadn't offered you), pour blood over hockey pucks. What kind of blood, you couldn't bring yourself to ask. When the whole thing was over you felt tired. You looked to your right at Jack. When you had snuck glances at him throughout the beginning he had seemed solemn and serious. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed. He looked horrible now. His forehead was slick was sweat and he looked almost green. "Are you okay?" You asked. Instead of answering he walked out the door. You almost followed after him, but remembered the fact that he wasn't your priority. "You'll clean all this up?" You asked Luke. He nodded. "And you'll use salt? You know even animal blood can attract all sorts of-" "Nasty ghoulies," Luke interrupted. You didn't correct him. "I know. Go on, go get some sleep. I'll call you." "Okay." You pursed your lips, wondering if there were any other precautions you should tell him to take. Of course, you weren't sure, since your mentor had skipped out on you. Without giving him a proper goodbye, you spun on your heel and went to track down Jack.

You found him outside the stadium, hands on his thighs as he hunched over some bushes. You could smell the vomit. You didn't say anything to him. Simply bundled his hair up in your hand and allowed him to purge whatever was making him sick. "Sorry." He kept mumbling between retches. When he was finally done, he straightened up and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie. Your fingers untangled themselves from his hair. "I hate Favour rituals." He said. "That magic is foul. It stinks, although usually, I can hold myself together till I get home." You couldn't stop pity from softening your features, and he looked away from your face. "I know it's a gift to be able to feel magic like that. You don't need to give me the speech." "Not if it makes you sick. How did you get through school?" "I scraped by." He flashed his pearly smile at you. The gap where his tooth used to be was growing on you. His regular lazy drawl to his words almost made you think he was fine. But then he took a step and his knees almost buckled. "C'mere," You said, slinging his arm around your shoulder. It barely helped, considering he had a few inches on you. But you had helped too many drunk girls throughout your life to count. His stomach growled. "Where's the closest diner?" "Few blocks away." He told you. You let him steer you.

After ten minutes or so you slid into a booth across from him. Colour was leeching back into his face and he was smiling easily. "Thanks." He said simply. "It was no big deal. Warn me next time, though." "It was a big deal. I told you, your magic feels good. I would be much worse off if you hadn't been around." You swallowed loudly, trying not to smile like an idiot. "Thanks, Hughes." "You can call me Jack, you know." "I call you Jack." You argued. He shook his head at you, still smiling. He was always smiling. "You always call me Hughes." He pointed out. "Fine, whatever. Just order yourself some food, Jack." He picked up a menu in front of him. "Yes ma'am."

#adoristsposts #hockey #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes au #hockey au #new jersey devils #luke hughes

[lawsend]

Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 3

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there’s not much canon in here).

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 2,521

Rating: MA

Warnings for series: adult themes, any given chapter may contain murder, violence, language, drinking, drug use, etc.

My other stuff can be found on my main blog @angelasscribbles here is the Master List.

“Well?” The chief of homicide demanded a glower on his face.

“I…this has to be some kind of mistake…” Liam’s face was ashen as he pulled the sketch from Bertrand’s hands.

Max gripped Riley gently but firmly by the shoulder and pulled her back and to the side, quietly shifting them out of anyone’s direct line of sight.

Riley allowed herself to be moved. If no one noticed her, they would speak more freely, and she might learn something.

“Are you questioning Ms. Nevrakis’s ability to render an accurate image from the witness’s verbal account?”

“What? No, of course not!” his eyes jumped to Lilith and the woman he had questioned earlier. Lilith’s sketches had helped catch plenty of perpetrators. She was very good at what she did. Still.

He stalked across the room and thrust the sketch under the older woman’s nose, “Mrs. Haltom, this is the man you saw arguing with the victim?”

Riley strained to hear, holding her breath as she leaned in their direction.

“That’s the man I saw leaving his apartment after hearing the argument.”

“Did he say anything as he was leaving? Anything you can positively attribute to him?”

“Yes, he said ‘If you don’t back off, I’ll personally fucking kill you!’”

“I…thank you,” Liam’s shoulders slumped in defeat, “You can go now.”

“Max!” Riley hissed as she drug Max toward the door the woman was headed for, “We have to follow her and see if she’ll tell us-“

“You’re not going anywhere!” Liam’s voice thundered out, freezing her in place, “Stay right there! I’m going to need a word with you!”

“Fuck!” Riley muttered as she watched Liam and Bertrand disappear into the chief’s office, “She’s getting away!”

“I’ll go!” Max offered, hesitating as he waited for her response.

“Yes!” Riley made a shooing motion with her hands, “Go! Get her full name and phone number so I can question her later!”

“On it!” Max scrambled out the door and down the hall after the witness.

Riley sauntered closer to Liam’s desk, her eyes scanning the top of it for any files or notes that might be left lying around in plain sight. Her eyes flicked over to the glass window of Bertrand’s office.

She’d give a lot to be a fly on the wall in there right now.

Her gaze fell back on the paperwork scattering Liam’s desk. There was a manilla file folder labeled, “Hayes”. She glanced quickly around the room. No one was paying any attention to her.

Her fingers tugged the folder out from under the two others and slid it to the edge of the desk. Flipping it open, her eyes scanned the first page quickly. Before she could turn to the next page, she was startled by a voice from behind her, “Can I help you with something?”

Shit!

She jumped guilty and spun around to find an unfamiliar man standing behind her. He had shaggy shoulder-length brown hair, hazel green eyes, and a deadly serious expression on his face. Her eyes dipped to take in the badge clipped on his belt and the gun holstered on his hip.

“I was waiting for Liam- I mean detective Rys, he told me to wait here.” She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart thundering guiltily in her chest.

The detective’s gaze stayed stern as he asked, “Did he tell you to go through his confidential police files?”

“Ah…n-no…I wasn’t…I mean, I didn’t mean to, I just…I was looking for a pen and some paper so I could jot down a few notes.”

“Right.” His eyes narrowed.

“It’s okay, Flynn, Liam did tell her to wait here.” Lilith came to her rescue, handing her a pen and notepad, “Here you go. Why don’t you have a seat right over there.” She pointed to a couch near the wall.

“Thank you,” Riley gave Lilith a grateful smile and slunk away quickly before she got herself arrested.

The hardened homicide detective’s face softened as he turned his attention to the redhead, “I wasn’t trying to be an ass, but she was digging through confidential files!”

“I’m sure she didn’t realize it.”

Flynn threw a dark glance at Riley as he harrumphed before remembering the two cups of coffee in his hands. He thrust one toward Lilith, “Here. I…uh, thought you might like some coffee.”

“Oh! I…”

“Cream with two sugars, right?”

“That’s right! How’d you know?”

Flynn shrugged as he moved to the desk next to Liam’s and busied himself scooting folders around randomly. “That’s how you always take it. I’m a detective. I notice things.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” Lilith dropped her eyes to the cup in her hand as her cheeks flushed.

Riley clocked the interaction with interest and filed it away for future reference. Information was power and you never knew what secrets might come in handy down the road.

Liam shook his head as he faced off with his superior officer, “No. No! There’s no way Leo did this!”

“Liam….I know he’s your brother, but-“

“Look, sir. I know that his background is problematic but-“

“Problematic?” Bertrand snorted, “That’s the understatement of the year!”

“Like I said, I’m aware of his issues but-“

“I just don’t think you can be objective about this case. I’m transferring it to-“

“Sir, with all due respect, I’ve already investigated the scene, deposed the witnesses, coordinated with-“

“Yes, but if your brother is the perpetrator-“

“He’s not!”

“Even if he’s not, he’s at least a suspect and I need someone on this case that will give full and equal consideration to all leads!”

“Okay. How about this? You leave me on the case until and unless Leo becomes the prime suspect! Please, sir! Give me a chance to exonerate him!”

Bertrand pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he regarded the earnest detective sitting across from him. He knew that Liam struggled against the same obstacles that he himself struggled against. Namely, a family legacy of corruption.

Liam was assigned to the seventh precinct because Bertrand had been the only chief willing to take a chance on him. Liam was the son of Constantine Rys, the not-quite-disgraced former Sheriff of Lantano County, and younger brother of Leo Rys, a fully disgraced former vice detective in the CCPD.

Bertrand had seen himself in the younger man when he’d agreed to hire him. In contrast to his father and brother, Liam was by the book, conscientious and honorable. Leo though… he lived on the other side of the law now and gave two shits less who knew it.

“Liam,” Bertrand said gently, “I don’t think you see your brother clearly-“

“I do, sir. You don’t know him the way I do!”

“Maybe not, but we both know what he’s capable of, Detective.”

Liam shook his head vehemently, “That was different! He wouldn’t just-“

“And what if he did?” Bertrand snapped, “What if all the evidence points to him?”

Liam glared at his boss for a minute before wilting, “Then I’ll arrest himself, sir. No one is above the law.”

“Right now, everything points to him. We have an eyewitness that puts him at the scene, and multiple witnesses that overheard the very loud, very heated argument just hours before the murder!”

“I have another suspect!” Liam protested, “I was just about to interview the informant!”

Bertrand nodded his head, “Tell you what. I’ll leave you on the case for now, but O’Malley takes the lead. You’ll assist him and I expect hourly updates! Is that understood?”

“Yes! Thank you, sir!”

“And Liam…if it turns out Leo did this, you’ll have to step away.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

Max slid himself onto the black faux leather couch next to Riley.

“Did you get the information?” She whispered.

“Oh yeah,” his grin lit up his whole face, “Her name, her number, her life story, the fact that she has a granddaughter my age who’s single and a dinner date for six o’clock tonight!”

“Six o’clock?”

“She’s old, Riley.”

“Fine. Six it is. I’m impressed, Max! How’d you get her to agree to dinner?”

He shifted uncomfortably, “I agreed to meet her granddaughter. She’s coming to dinner too.”

Riley clapped both hands over her mouth as she tried to repress the giggle that threatened to bubble out of her.

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up. The shit I do for you…”

“Ah, Max, you love this as much as I do! And who knows? Maybe she’ll be a hottie and you’ll hit it off!”

His shoulders slumped as his eyes tracked across her face, “That’s not very likely.”

“Why not?”

Before he could answer, the door to Bertrand’s office opened and Liam stepped out.

“O’Malley!” Bertrand barked.

Flynn pulled himself away from Lilith and jogged across the room as Liam made his way back to his desk and motioned for Riley and Max to take the chairs across from him.

Liam drew in a deep breath to steady himself before lifting his eyes to Riley, “You said you have a suspect with motive. Who?”

“William Sloan.”

Liam blinked slowly, “William Sloan? The CEO of Sloan Enterprises?”

“That’s the one!” Riley smiled brightly at him.

“What’s the motive?”

Riley glanced around the office then leaned over the desk, “His wife, Katie Sloan might have been sleeping with the victim!”

“Might have been? Based on what evidence?”

“Well, he was concerned enough to hire a private detective to have her followed and she was followed right to a meeting with the murder victim.”

Liam sat up in interest, “When was this meeting? Where did it take place? Who was the private detective?”

“Oh…um…” she slid her eyes sidewise to Max.

Max straighten in his chair as he counted backward in his head, “Five nights ago, at the bar in the lobby of the Savoy Hotel.”

Liam’s gaze swung from Riley to Max in surprise, “Now I know you’re not a private investigator, are you?”

“No, officer, I’m a photographer.”

“So how do you know this and who-“

Riley placed a hand on Max’s chest to forestall any further comments from him, “Max just happened to see them there and he’s reporting it to you, as a good citizen.”

“Uh huh,” Liam leaned back in his chair as he returned his attention to Riley, “And how do you know about William Sloan hiring a PI?”

“I can’t reveal my sources,” She returned his gaze levelly.

“Riley, I’m going to need a little more to go on than your word.”

“Well, I would imagine you can pull security footage from the bar on the night in question.”

“We can and we will. It would be really helpful if you would just tell me the name of this PI.”

With a coy grin, she placed her elbow on his desk and leaned her chin in her hand, “And what do I get out of that deal?”

His mouth went dry as he properly identified the teasing lilt in her tone and the flirty flutter of her eyelashes. This woman was infuriating. She had no right to be so frustrating and alluring at the same damn time. She did things to him that he didn’t like to admit. But she was a reporter and had already proven that he couldn’t trust her. He hated that he knew exactly what it sounded like when she came and that he desperately wanted to hear it again.

Pushing his sudden arousal to the side, he shook his head, “Helping solve a murder? Isn’t that enough?”

“If I go around throwing my sources under the bus, they’ll stop telling me things.”

“Fine,” Liam blew out a frustrated sigh, “Is there anything you can tell me? Do you know the nature of Katie and Trent’s relationship? Was she cheating on her husband with him?”

“I don’t know if she was sleeping with him or not, but Trent and Katie used to be engaged!”

“Did they?”

“Yes, you can look that up. It’s a matter of public record.”

“Oh, I will,” he pushed away from his desk, walked around it, and motioned toward the exit, “Now, unless you have anything else useful to tell me-“

Riley and Max stood, but while Max headed for the exit, Riley turned back to Liam, laying a hand on his arm she lowered her voice, “I hope this is enough to take the suspicion off your brother.”

His face paled, “You heard all that?”

“Enough,” she shrugged, “For what it’s worth, if you say he didn’t do it, that’s good enough for me. I believe you.”

He stared at her hand on his arm for a long moment before lifting his eyes to her. He found nothing but sincerity there as he whispered, “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” she smiled as she dropped her hand away from his arm and turned to go.

“Riley, wait!” He reached for her and spun her back toward him, “Please…don’t print my brother’s name.”

“Liam….I have a duty as an investigative journalist-“

“Please!”

She hesitated. The vulnerability in his eyes and the pleading in his tone conspired to weaken her resolve. “Fine. I won’t print his name for now but once you narrow down a suspect, you tell me first!”

“Riley, you know I can’t-“

She placed her palm flat on his chest, “I’m not asking you to give me confidential information. All I’m asking is that once the information is cleared for release to the press, you slip it to me first!” Because fuck that smug bastard Neville. This was her story and she intended to scoop him on every detail. “Deal?”

Liam’s jaw clenched as he considered her offer. “As long as the information has been cleared through official channels, then fine, I’ll call you before I send it to public relations.”

She gave him that smile again. The one that made him feel like he could climb a mountain for her if she wanted him to. She leaned forward and went up on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his cheek, “I think this is going to be a very mutually beneficial arrangement, Detective.”

He watched her walk toward the exit, and Max, who was waiting with his hands shoved in his pockets, giving Liam an appraising look.

Max placed his hand on the small of her back as they exited, shooting a glance back at Liam as he did so.

Interesting. Liam was suddenly curious about the nature of her relationship with her photographer. But there was no time to worry about it now. Right now, he had much bigger problems.

Liam’s head was spinning with the information he had just obtained. Far from exonerating his brother, this new piece of evidence could bury him further. Katie Sloan nee Vanderhilt wasn’t just Trenton Haye’s ex-fiancée, she was also his brother’s ex-girlfriend. If Katie Sloan was rekindling old flames, could she have fallen back into Leo’s bed? Pitted one lover against another?

With a sigh of trepidation, he pulled his phone out and dialed, “Leo, it’s Liam. I’m going to need you to come down to the station and answer some questions.”

#trr au #trr au fanfic #writeblr #crime drama #angelasscribbles #Law's End #laws end #cordonia city #maxwell beaumont #liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #trr fandom #trr fanfic #the royal romance #no canon #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

[bambi-kinos]

Hey, I am different nonny, just in case, and I really love your analysis, just wanted to bring up a slightly different opinion.

I don't think we can take everything Danny Laine said as a concrete truth. The reason I say this is because depending on who was closer to who in Paul & Linda relationship when they were scorned - the takes on their relationship greatly differed. I've seen tons of things about Linda being calculating and relentless, stalking Paul from 1967 until she got him. Linda controlling who had access to Paul in entertainment circles, especially the women near him. Linda hating Jane, to the point described in this quote "when Linda came on the scene she made sure that all his old pals that knew and liked Jane were excluded" from Barry Miles. JoJo Laine, Danny's ex-wife, also said Linda was jealous of Jane, hated Linda in general and even claimed that Linda tried to seduce Danny, while Linda hated her to bits in return.

Another thing that immediately comes to mind is an account from Dave Spinozza, who pretty much just wanted to get into Paul's pants, and he framed his firing like this: "we sort of had a falling out. I had a little bit of, actually not with him, I had a little falling out with Linda and it just didn’t work out". He fully blamed Linda for it, even though Paul was uncomfortable with him.

And of course, I am sure Paul had his domineering moments more than enough, arguing about Linda doing stuff he didn't like, but to me, it seems their relationship was on way more equal footing and Linda could hold her ground.

RIP to Denny Laine but he was a fuckboy and I imagine that a lot of the shit he said was out of spite. I absolutely believe that he would lie on purpose or that he misunderstood what was happening in front of him. Denny Laine is still one of the guys who almost murdered Paul and Linda by piloting an airplane while stoned:

Another, far more serious incident [on the 1976 Wings tour] caused Paul’s anger to explode. In flight, inebriated members of the band and entourage would sometimes enter the cockpit and hang out and chat with the laid-back Texan pilots charged with handling the tour plane. On one occasion, trumpeter Steve Howard, holder of a pilot’s license for smaller aircraft, was given a turn at the controls of the jet, acquitting himself admirably. Denny Laine, at the time perhaps worryingly reading a book entitled Anyone Can Fly, was also given a go in the pilot’s chair. After a few minutes, the real flight crew’s attentions having drifted, a call came through from air traffic control warning them that the plane was cruising several thousand feet below its agreed-upon altitude. According to Laine, “When you take anything off automatic pilot, it goes all over the place for a moment or two.” During another flight, one member of the miles-high party—reports differ as to the identity of the culprit—sent the plane into a dive, throwing everyone around the cabin. It was at this point that a furious McCartney discovered that, for some weeks, drunken members of his group had been taking turns flying the plane, with his wife and children on board. Never the most comfortable flier, Paul blew his top. From here on in, everyone in the touring party was banned from the cockpit. “Which is fair enough,” Howie Casey notes. “Even though I was pissed, I’d think, No, that’s silly.”

Man on the Run, Tom Doyle

To help relieve the tedium of the road, individual band members would often sneak off into the cockpit for a quick turn at the wheel, on one occasion sending the deluxe, specially equipped aircraft into a tailspin. McCartney, who had been playing cards with Linda and a couple of the road crew at the back of the aircraft, ended up in a very unhappy heap in the center aisle, screaming bloody blue murder at the highflying, spaced-out pranksters. Laine, who himself had a go, was piloting the plane on the basis of a book he was then reading called Anyone Can Fly, later the title of one of his most interesting solo albums. He comments: “When you take anything off automatic pilot it goes all over the place for a moment or two. At one point, Steve [the brass player] took the plane into a terrible dive, sending everybody at the back flying inside the plane. . . . Paul was very pissed off about that, yeah. Then he found out we'd all been flying for weeks. His bottle went, as they say.”

Blackbird: The Life and Times of Paul McCartney, Geoffrey Giuliano

(quotes from sounwise)

So whenever you read a quote from Denny where he whinges about Paul not ~letting him in~ after all those years in Wings, remember these quotes lmao.

I regard reports of Paul and Linda's marriage the same way I regard John and Yoko's marriage: the qualities that keep rising to the top are the ones that are true. Paul and Linda had a good marriage IMO, it's just that there's also signs that Paul's weirdness about money and his baggage meant that he could lose his temper and that he tried to push Linda around at times. I read Mccartney Legacy Vol 1 last year and that went into some detail about Paul's impatience with Linda's keyboarding skills. When Linda was trying to publish a book Paul is the who allegedly stopped it because he didn't like Linda having the spotlight. There's reports from the guy (surname Cox) who was co-writing a cookbook with Linda that there was tension around it and that he believed it was because Paul did not like Linda getting attention or that Paul was scared she wouldn't be there for him if she was doing something else.

If it was just Denny on his own saying this stuff I'd be more skeptical but he's not the only one.

When I say stuff like "Paul was difficult" or "Linda's marriage was fraught" that's what I'm thinking of. Paul is difficult to be married to (something he's admitted to with the embarrassed feet shuffling he does when he talks about his trad fetish) and Linda herself had a strong personality. It's natural for there to be conflict sometimes.

We also have lots of stories about what a solid couple Paul and Linda were and I think those were true too. Paul is a good father and he stuck it out with Linda when she was dying of cancer, something that can get men to split from a partnership. Like, it's obvious that they cared about each other and they liked being together. If Linda was planning to leave Paul then it was because she wanted to do something else and not be "Paul's wife" forever.

There's always some push/pull in a relationship. Sometimes Linda had to make some sacrifices for Paul's sake. Paul made some sacrifices for Linda too, publicly being a wifeguy when it meant taking a knock to his image and making him an even riskier prospect for anyone wanting to sign him. It wasn't a one sided relationship and it wasn't abusive. It's just that there's a possibility that they ran out the clock on their relationship and Paul's baggage didn't make that relationship easy in the first place.

#talktalktalk #paul mccartney #linda eastman #typed this out on my phone in the brave browser so here we go #beatles meta #my meta

[asirensrage]

Demanding It All - Gojo Satoru Oneshot

Title: Demanding It All Rating: Explicit Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Unnamed Female OC Warnings: Slight possessive behaviour. Sex. Mentions of Gojo being an asshole (and ruining her dates with others) Summary: They've both finally had enough. Satoru does something about it. Sequel to Wanting More

Notes: Unbeta-d. I wrote this in a few hours and only looked it over a couple times so forgive me if it's not to my usual standards lol. It's also only the second time I've written him. I used/referenced a couple prompts from this post.

This is dedicated to @nejires-hado and the anon in my ask box who decided to complain to me about @nejires-hado sexualizing anime characters before asking me "Don't you ever look at yourself and feel shame?" The answer, of course, is no and because I excel at spite, I bring you this spite smut. Enjoy!

“Damn it, Gojo! What the hell is your problem?” 

“Hmm?” he asks, looking not at all bothered by her anger. He’s lounging on her couch again, looking as though he belongs there. No matter how many times she’s thrown him out, he’s found his way back. Like some stray cat she never wanted. 

“Why are you ruining everything?”

“Ruining?” he laughs at that. All it does is piss her off more. “What was there to ruin?”

“Don’t you have other people you can bother? Or Elders to irritate? Schools to reform? Some shit that doesn’t require you to dig into my personal life?”

He stares at her. Even if she can’t see his eyes, she can feel his gaze. “Who says I’m not?”

She tries not to scream in frustration. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with him or what changed. Suddenly, he was showing up more frequently, not to mention interrupting all of her dates, throwing his arm around her like she was his and demeaning every man she had met with. It was driving her insane. Especially considering she actually liked the first one he drove off. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you acting like you’re not doing anything wrong!”

He sits up at that, long legs bent at the knee with his feet planted on the ground. “When have I ever done something wrong?” He scoffs. 

“You showed up during my date and told him our kids were waiting for us!” 

“Oh, that.” He leaned back, getting comfortable again. “He was boring. I saved you from a terrible date.”

“I didn't ask you to!” she snarls. “In fact, I don’t know why you’re still here! We’re not friends, Gojo.”

He grins and she can already tell that whatever comes out of his mouth is going to irritate her further. “Oh? Then what are we, dearest?”

“A headache.” 

“Aww, come on. You deserve better than them.” He stands up and moves towards her. She glares at him, inwardly cursing the Limitless that keeps him protected. 

“I deserve some peace from you,” she bites back asking if he has other friends. She was angry but that was just cruel. “What is your problem?”

“You.” 

She blinks, surprised by the tone of his voice. Satoru is rarely serious. Even at the brink of death, he finds a way to enjoy himself, to mock those weaker than him. Everyone is weaker than him. “What?”

“You are my problem.” He moves closer and she stops herself before she steps back. She’s not afraid of him. She never has been. 

She glares up at him. “Well don’t stick around on my account.”

He sighs and she gets the sense he’s disappointed. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“Gojo, leave me alone.” She doesn’t want to play his games. “Or I’m going to find a way to throw you out the window.”

He laughs at that. “Always so creative! Not that it would hurt.” 

She reacts without thinking, shoving him back. Her hands stop before they can reach him. It just makes her angrier. “Fuck you, Satoru!”

He reaches up, grasping her wrists. Her breath catches in her throat at the feel of his skin against hers, the warm grip that holds her. Has she ever touched him before? Has anyone? “Promise?” 

“Just stop, okay? Stop bothering me. Stop scaring my dates off. Just stop!”

“They don’t deserve you.”

“Yeah?” she sneers. “Who does? Nanami?”

His lips are on hers before she can even think. His hands still hold her wrists, keeping her in place as his mouth moves against hers. He pulls back, just enough so that they can breathe. 

She stares at him, confused and uncertain. He kissed her. Satoru, who has strived to make her life hell, kissed her. “What–”

He lets go of her wrists, one hand moving to the small of her back, pulling her into him. The other hand goes to the back of her neck, tilting her head up towards him. His mouth finds her again. The kiss deepens. It’s hard and demanding, almost punishing for something she never knew she was doing.

She can taste the sweetness of the candies he had been eating on his tongue. His grip tightens for a moment and she moves her arms, reaching up to wrap them around him. She digs her nails into his shoulder, feeling him smile against her lips. She loses herself in the kiss, mindlessly wondering how it came to this while hoping he doesn’t stop. 

His mouth moves, trailing kisses against her jaw, down her neck. She presses her fingers into the base of his scalp, trying to keep herself from pulling off his blindfold so she could bury her fingers in his hair. 

“So good,” he mutters against her skin. “-knew it.” 

She’d shove him off for that if she didn’t want him closer. She presses up on her toes, nipping at his jaw for the remark. His grip tightens slightly before he kisses her again. He steps forward, forcing her back. She lets him lead in the parody of a dance, ushering her through her own apartment as he sheds the shirt he’s wearing in between claiming her mouth with his. She doesn’t even question how he knows which way to go. There’s no point. Not with him. 

She pulls off her own shirt, throwing it in the direction of her laundry basket. His chest presses against her, warm skin against hers. Somehow she never thought he’d be warm. His mouth finds her again and the thought is lost as she kisses him back just as hard. She bites at his lip, ignoring the way he laughs against her. He lets her take what she wants, all the while moving them until the back of her knees hit the side of her bed and she’s lying down with him above her. 

Her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his eyes. Darkened with lust, she can barely begin to decipher the look in them before he closes them, distracting her again with his kiss. His fingers move, tugging at the shorts she’s wearing. She lifts her hips enough to help him pull them off. He takes her underwear with them. 

She closes her eyes, unwilling to see his expression as he looks at her, bare under his gaze. Weren’t they always? 

He doesn’t linger long. His hands move, mapping the curves of her body as his mouth traces a trail that only he understands. Her hands grip the sheets under her and she allows herself the satisfaction of digging her fingers into his hair like she wanted. She can’t stop the urge to yank on it, just because she finally can. He bites at her skin before pressing his tongue flat against one of her nipples. Her breath catches in her throat and the desire to hurt him fades against the need for more. 

She hooks a leg around him, pressing him closer. 

“Patience, darling,” he teases. “I want to savour this.”

She groans in frustration. “Don’t play with me, Satoru.” 

“But it’s so fun!” 

Her eyes narrow and before she can lift her leg to kick him off of her, he grips it, holding her in place against him. He presses closer and rocks his hips against her. The friction of his clothed legs pressing against her makes her gasp. 

“Wait,” he orders. He bends back down, mouth on her skin again. He keeps one hand on her leg, keeping her against him. The other skims against her, cupping one of her breasts. His fingers brush against her nipple, tugging at it playfully before he moves to soothe it with his tongue. 

Her head falls back, relaxing into the sensations. Goosebumps prickle against her skin that his fingers brush against. She’s going to be marked, bruises caused by his mouth. It's as though she’s one of those desserts he goes out of his way to find, the ones he lingers in eating, trying to enjoy as long as possible. 

He shifts, moving down slightly and releasing his hold on her leg. His hand goes between her legs and she is left suddenly open as he presses against her carefully. It’s seconds before he finds it, thumb pressing against her clit as her legs clench around him. If he laughs, she doesn’t hear it, her focus only on his fingers and the way they are slowly pressing in. When his mouth joins, his tongue flicks as it replaces his thumb before pressing flat. 

The pressure increases and she buries her hand in his hair again, holding him close as she gets closer to the edge. 

“Please, please, please,” she begs. She’s never begged him before but she can’t stop. Not when there’s more. Not when she’s so close. 

She breaks. He doesn’t protest at the way her legs tighten around him or how she pulls his hair without meaning. It’s as though all he can focus on is her and how she tastes. He finally pulls away, letting her catch her breath and come back to earth. She could finally understand why he called himself a god. Why it might be slightly deserved. Forget what abilities he could have, that alone was enough to redeem him. 

He positions himself above her, staring down at her. His eyes are bright in the shadows of her room. She stares back, any hesitance is gone in the aftermath of her orgasm. 

“Stop looking at me,” she says softly, finally breaking the silence between them. He smiles at her, something softer than his usual smug grin. 

“I can’t.” Seeing her confusion, his smile widens. “You’re so pretty like this.” 

Her nose scrunches up at the compliment. It doesn’t seem right coming from him. She tries to shove him back but he grabs her hand, pinning it down against the bed next to her. 

“Don’t,” he says softly. He leans forward and brushes his nose against her jaw. “I want to see everything.”

“Don’t you already?”

“Not like this.” He kisses her again before pulling back. She sits up slightly, confused at the sudden coldness before she realizes what he’s doing. His pants are quickly abandoned and she can see the condom he pulls out. 

“Can I–” her offer to help is cut off. He moves impossibly quick sometimes and before she can even move, he’s back between her legs. He pauses only to check with her, to meet her eyes as he positions himself. She hooks a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. 

The stretch is uncomfortable at first, despite the preparation. He groans against her skin as he holds himself close. She breathes, trying to let herself relax as he fills her. Did it feel like this before? Were others lacking or was it simply more because it was him? 

His lips move across her neck, an attempt to distract them both. She clutches at him, nails digging into his skin before she demands that he move. So he does. 

Her head falls back as he thrusts forward. It’s so much and somehow not enough. She wants more. She wants to burn him into her skin, some proof that this is real and happening. That he’s really muttering in her ear about how good she feels, how he’s the only one to deserve her. How he won’t let her go. 

She ignores that and focuses on how she feels. He moves one of her legs higher, his elbow under her knee as he tries to get closer, shifting the angle of his hips until her mouth drops open and words become impossible. The noises from them both would be embarrassing if she could bring herself to care. The pressure continues to build and she finds herself plunging into another orgasm before she realizes it. He kisses her, swallowing her scream as his pace increases. She leaves scratches in his skin, drawing blood as he fucks her into the mattress, refusing the ease even for a moment. 

She’s teetering on the edge of another when he finally breaks. He groans, burying himself into her. He holds her tight enough to bruise but doesn’t move. The potential of her own orgasm fades and for once she’s a bit thankful if only for the chance to breathe, to hold off on losing herself to him again. 

He pulls out, discarding the condom before he collapses on the bed next to her. She turns, moving to her stomach while she tries to recover her energy. How did they get here? Satoru and her were friends. Sort of. And now…did they ruin that? 

An arm curls around her waist before she’s pulled into his chest. She glares, regretting the last hour already. His eyes are closed and she’s surprised at the fact that he actually looks relaxed. Not in the way he pretends he is, like when he taunts the Elders.This looks real. 

One of his eyes open, peering at her. “Still hate me?” he asks, sounding far too amused for someone who just tried to fuck her senseless. 

“Yes.”

His lips twitch at that. “Same amount?”

She pretends to think about it. “Hmm…maybe a little less.”

“A little?”

She moves, holding up a hand and showing an inch between her thumb and index finger. “Just a bit.” 

He laughs. “Then I’ll just have to keep you in bed until you love me.”

Her face scrunches up at the thought. “I’m going to throw you off the roof.” 

Satoru’s grip tightens on her, pulling her closer. She thinks she feels his lips against her hair. “You can try.”

“One of these days, Satoru…” she warns. He just closes his eyes, ignoring her. She tries to push him off, gaining a bit of space so she can at least clean herself up. His grip is firm though and he doesn’t let go.

“Not yet,” she hears him say. “Just…wait, okay?”

It’s too soft and she finds herself settling without realizing. “Yeah,” she leans back against him. “Okay.” 

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @nejires-hado @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

#as for the rest of the ask...you don't want me to spend my time answering it. it won't go the way you think #spite smut #gojo satoru x oc #gojo x oc #gojo satoru oneshot #ridea acts out of spite

[apersonwholikeslotus]

for: @hetalia-advent-calender

day four, the Christmas tree wars.

Notes: I call Finland Kasper, and Estonia Kalev just bc I don't like their canon names.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“1441” Kalev stated it very clearly. 

“You’re lying, I was first, and it was 1510” Raivis countered, just as serious about the matter. 

Everyone groaned knowing not a single decoration would go up until this had been solved. Every year they all agreed ‘decorating one of our houses together will be fun! Let’s all get together and do it!” and every year this happens. Every year Natalya claimed if it happened again she would leave and not come the next year, and every year she came back anyway. Every year Gilbert and Feliks got a snack and started whispering bets on who would storm off first. Every year Erzsébet would “gently” suggest they stop, while holding Kasper back from jumping in on Kalev’s side. deciding it wasn’t worth it. Adéla and Evžen were really the only two who would leave after hearing enough of it, usually Adéla being the one to drag him off. 

Tolys however, counted himself stuck with it. Part of him wanted to walk away and let them burn down the house if they wanted to; part of him wanted to just join Raivis’ side on account of them being brothers. 

He couldn’t let them burn the house down though, they were at his house anyway, and he liked his house not burnt to a crisp. He couldn’t just join Raivis’ side hoping to tip the scale either, because he was sure then Erzsí would let Kasper join Kalev’s side. Not many people scared Tolys, but Kasper certainly did. 

“I think you’re the one lying” Kalev turned back to the box of decorations, as if he had just ended the argument by accusing the other.

It wasn’t often Raivis looked angry, but now he was seething. “If I was lying, why would I make up a date later than yours?” He went back to the ornament carrier, Tolys almost turned to get a broom just then; better prepared for shattered ornaments. 

“To make it more believable of course.” 

“Exactl-” Kasper spoke up, Erzsébet dragging him back into his seat, saying something about how Kalev can fight his own battles; the Finn grumbling back about how he didn’t think he could. 

Raivis now had an ornament in his hand, a heavy one too. While he was headed for the tree, no one questioned his ability to change his mind at the last minute and throw it at Kalev. Tolys was honestly preparing for it. 

“It wouldn’t make sense for me to do that” he hesitated putting it on the tree, everyone held their breath-

“What if we just google it?” Feliks asked, even for once seeming annoyed at the night's entertainment. “And we can just say whatever that says as the truth for tonight” 

Tolys let out said breath, “That sounds like a good idea, you can argue about it any night but we would all like to decorate tonight” 

Both huffed and puffed, but agreed to the very temporary probably-wouldn’t-even-do-anything solution. Feliks pulled out his phone typing it in, reading out loud; “Who had the first christmas tree”

Gilbert leaned over his shoulder watching as he hit search, and the screen loaded the answer. Feliks rolled his eyes, knowing the other had seen what it said, Gilbert smiled a shit eating grin; “‘Germany is credited with starting the christmas tree tradition as we now know it’ suck on that losers!” 

Tolys registered what had been read, oh this wouldn’t do at all. 

“What was your argument again, Raivis?"

#apersonwhowrites #hetaliadvent2023 #hws lithuania #hws latvia #hws estonia #hws prussia #hws poland #hws hungary #hws finland

[the-estranged-estrangedaframian]

@pasiphaedemetriadevil // cont’d [ x ]

Hodges raised his brows, tilted his head shruggingly; he appreciated the comment about his appearance. Of course, he never had to try too hard to look good. He was a cutie from birth.

“One thing about me, baby—I’m always serious.”

He picked up a couple of olives using a toothpick and swallowed them down without chewing first. “Well ain’tcha glad the problem wasn’t your own? I know I’d be…” Hodges had often wondered how he would handle things if the shoe was on the other foot.

The videographer looked towards the building contemplatively; he made good money but he didn’t care to live in a way that necessarily showed it. Still, it was nice to know someone with a castle as their permanent residence. It certainly made spending the night there more interesting. And he had spent a LOT of nights in Elsie’s castle. Back when he’d first discovered Elsie’s secret.

“Sure thing.” He followed Elsie to the playroom, entertaining peeks into all the different rooms along the way. Their mutual acquaintance’s mansion didn’t hold a candle to grandmother Selene’s castle, really. Not aesthetically, or emotionally, in Hodge’s opinion.

Hodges tapped his camera, subtly warning the random partygoer who had shoved Elsie not to cause a scene; unless they didn’t mind having their poor choices on film forever.

“Don’t curb your tongue on my account,” joked Hodges, well-aware that Elsie was watching her language for the fact they were now in the impressionable territory of the playground.

“I’m Hodges, like the lady says—” He reached for the younger woman’s hand, fully prepared to lay a polite kiss on the top of it. “Enchanté, Toni.” Toni’s features were pleasing to Hodges’ eyes, especially her large smile (which was as much her personality as it was her natural mouth). Other than the varying shades of orange on their respective heads, he didn’t see much resemblance between the two vampires. Each was lovely in her own way.

There was a time where Hodges suspected he had romantic feelings for Elsie, but given how close they had become in light of the siring vampire’s attack, there never came a time during which it felt right to tell her so. The last thing he wanted Elsie thinking about him was that he’d only helped her through those dark times as a way into her pants.

Other times, he felt like he just wasn’t spectacular enough for her.

He loved her and she’d always be a big part of his life. However, time away from her, and more inner reflection, helped Hodges realize that he and Elsie were never meant to be a couple. He was cool with whatever they had. Friendship, mentorship, sibling-hood, a partnership in crime. Call it what you will.

“I understand you involve yourself in a lot of projects that beg for being able to look back on... Things like lessons, recitals, shows... Both yours and the children’s... Speaking as a professional, I might offer you my numb’r..” Hodges handed Toni a business card for ‘Majorly Pictures in Motion’.

“Though... if you do get the bug to make a social call out of it... please do not hesitate... I do believe any sister of a friend... is a friend...”

On the back of the card, Hodges had hand-written a note with the adjusted rates. Another note branching off of that one, assured Toni of his knowledge and confidence regarding the sisters’ mutual vampirism.

#pasiphaedemetriadevil #m; hodges

[madimagines]

~ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ TO CONFESS!

a headcanon list featuring hank, deimos, and sanford when first admitting their feelings to you.

content includes: fluff, romance.

author's note: hello! this is my first proper post on this account. i haven't written this much in a long time,,, i hope you enjoy!

‎

# ‎ ~ ‎ HANK J. WIMBLETON

hank never thought of himself to be the "romantically inclined" type of guy. he's always too busy with combat and dealing with the general chaos of nevada that he could never see himself becoming vulnerable with a special person.

so on the day that hank found himself plotting a feeling dump, he couldn't recognize himself in the mirror.

hank would spend a long time perfecting the moment, doing his best to erase every flaw and ensure it'd be a time to die for.

he'll get you things that you like: things that somehow managed to survive in the madness.

hank would bring you to a quiet place, a nice view on top of a mountain. no danger in site: surprisingly.

you two will get into friendly conversation: talking about your interests and how your day has been. eventually, it will dive into something deeper.

hank will take your hand into his own, looking into your eyes as he speaks. he's visibly nervous, stumbling over his words and shaking in the slightest.

as hank rambles on, you start to catch onto what he's trying to do: it's too obvious. you softly smile, before getting onto your knees and leaving a gentle peck on hank's forehead.

‎

# ‎ ~ ‎ SANFORD

sanford has more relationship experience than the other guys would, so he acknowledged his crush pretty quickly.

he goes about confessing more smartly: sanford decides not to rush anything and let mother nature take it's course.

one day while you two are out on a supply hunt, you happen to trip over a mask camouflaged to the ground.

you gasp in surprise, feeling your body come to an unbalance.

sanford jumps to action, catching you in his arms.

you had shut your eyes, expecting contact with the rock hard surface. when you open your eyes, you see a shocked and worried face staring down at you.

your cheeks heat up in a blush, and so do sanfords.

"heh- sorry, y/n. didn't want ya hitting the ground there. you okay?"

"i'm fine, sanford. thank you for this..."

sanford helps you back to your feet, and the rest of the time between you two is interesting. you two are closer in contact, looking at each other more frequently, and even holding hands. sanford knew what this all could mean.

when you two came to a halt, he took the first chance to chuck the information out.

‎‎

# ‎ ~ ‎ DEIMOS

let it be known, deimos is far from being considered a serious guy. he may have the brains for tech and hacking, but certainly doesn't always use it right.

deimos' heart came to a halt when he saw you and your personality. he even dropped his cigarette!

deimos knew from the start that he liked you, but instead of embracing it he death metal screamed from the inside.

what?! how will he tell you?? is he insane?

deimos would run around, beating himself up over it. anxiety overtaking the once laid-back smoker.

when d DOES figure himself out, he doesn't go about planning some big moment or casual dinner. deimos sticks to his hints and cues: flirting with you whenever chance he gets, complimenting you, the list goes on.

one day, deimos accidentally outted himself during one of his flirt sessions.

you were left in shock, and deimos couldn't contain his blush. face covered, backing away, the dude was a mess.

you weren't mad at all: because you felt the same about deimos. you go up to him, and carefully hold both of his wrists.

"that's funny, because i feel the same way!"

#madness combat #madcom #mc #hank x reader #sanford x reader #deimos x reader #madness combat x reader #madness combat headcanons

[sabineelectricheart]

Lipstick Marks

Summary: Crius has a meeting today. An earlier encounter might lead to an embarrassingly pleasant situation.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Heheheh silly little man with his silly little feelings...

While there are several things Crius loves about Anastasia, by far his favorite is how she just cannot seem to keep her hands off of him.

Where he was accustomed to being the affectionate one, the needy one, she're apparently determined to make him seem downright aloof. It is funny, yes, to see that wilful girl, self-sufficient and impetuous, mewl like a little kitten when they are alone together, yes, but it is, more than anything, it is quite pleasant for himself to be the subject of this devotion. It made him a silent sort of giddy, the greedy demands for her time and love disguised into a light and soft tease over the hands and mouth that pepper and pin him down, unrepentant, in position. Not that he resisted too valiantly, or even resisted at all.

His estate might not be particularly large, even with the trickling addition of whatever comes as inheritance from the Lynzel marquisate, but his darling wife had no interest in managing it. It is all fine and good for him, let the accountants and butlers handle the boring business that interest neither of them. Likewise, she was not one for a life of leisure, swinging between salons, gatherings and courtly life, such as her stepmother used to do long before.

Oh, no. Anastasia’s place is with the Knights of Garuda, and of that she made everyone quite clear with that same imperious temperament he loves so much. Which means, much to her husband’s satisfaction, that she would come into work with him every day, and, well, Crius found that caring for the goddess’ birds can be a part-time job if you are good at it.

Which is not to say that he is very assiduous at even that. Already late to his next appointment with the royal treasurer on the ever pressing and seemingly-always relevant subject of funding for the order, his wife has him stuck at the stables, giggling like a pubescent schoolgirl struck with her first passion. Her lips are warm and ticklish at his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and she has both her hands tangled up in his hair, holding him in place for her relentless assault.

Of course, he could get away if he wanted to. His wife is a talented hunter and bower, but is half his size. He just does not. He certainly will not.

"Lord Commander, sir!" One of the squires addresses nervously, a bag of fodder held up to his chest like a shield. The poor teen was probably taken off his task to face the commander’s wrath by his cowardly company. "Sorry, sir, it is just that the master is waiting for you at your office, and he looks impatient. You are due…"

Before Crius can threaten bodily harm on the squire, who is shivering like an anxious little dog, for the interruption, Anastasia relinquishes her hold on him, laughing a little breathlessly.

"Sorry, sorry, it is all my fault.” She apologises amiably, feeling bad for the squire, but not truly regretful about her own transgression. “Please, regard my excuses to the master, but I must get going, too. There are chores to be made.”

He does wish to say something undignified, but he settles on, “Waiting might just be an elucidating experience for a man like the master.”

The redhead suppresses a smirk. “Go, Crius. I shall see you tonight, yes? With good results, I hope. I will miss you!"

"Very well, then." The man answers with a dazed, lovesick smile, that seems to both spook and charm the poor squire standing awkward to the corner, still unaccustomed to how things functioned up there. "I miss you already."

Anastasia kisses her husband once more on the lips, and Crius cannot help but watch as she goes off. The squire seemed to have something else to say, but a harsh look communicating his perilous position shot by the commander and the teen boy suddenly seemed awfully interested in his bag of fodder and how the garudas must be very hungry indeed.

On the way to his office, knights, squires and servants kept doing double-takes as he passes. Some, the older ones in their employ, snicker to themselves and gossip like wives as he passes. Others, gawk with their mouths open, too scandalised to avert their prying eyes. The envoy from the royal treasury, on his part, has his cheeks coloured and an expression of deep displeasure when he reaches the office.

He is used to attention, after so many years there would be no way not to be, and he even welcomes it at the measure it can help in his aims. It is easy for him to disregard the look of others, but he does not fully realize why they were looking at him like that until, some fifteen minutes into a discussion about budgetary limitations of the Crown, he happens to run his eyes through the mirror he keeps off to a wall.

Just about every inch of his face is stained with distinctively lip-shaped red marks. His once neatly combed hair is mussed into a wild curve that makes him laugh as soon as he sees it. Even his clothes, if he bothered to look down, he would see that he is missing his holster and his tie is undone.

The conversation immediately falls into a lull. Crius just leans back in his chair, admiring the undeniable proof that he belongs to someone. He huffs a little chuckle, lifting a gloved hand to almost reverently touch one of the kisses painted on his cheek. Anastasia certainly knew what she was doing.

Looking at the master, he just offers a giddy little shrug. "Life of a man in love, am I right?"

Crius grins through his entire appointment. Even after the lipstick is wiped away, he can still feel the lingering warmth of her love on his skin, in the beat of his heart, and in the butterflies fluttering about his stomach.

*_*_*_*_*

Even If Tempest Masterlist

#even if tempest #crius castlerock

[starglitterz]

to all the boys i've loved before.

─── AYATO ! // the pretty boy with a hidden playful side.

─ a short series based on my own personal experiences with love and crushes. a sort of messy goodbye to all the boys i’ve loved before.

warning(s) ; ayato is mentioned to be taller than reader once, 绫人 is ayato's cn name apparently read língrén according to the wiki

series masterlist.

to everyone you know, kamisato ayato is the perfect package; smart, respectful, and he's got the looks to boot. with his long blue hair and trademark smile that makes every junior fall for him in a matter of seconds. you're not even going to lie, you had fallen for this facade too, believing it to be reality. but somehow you started getting closer to him through one of your mutual friends, and that painted him in an entirely different light, yet somehow this side of him seemed much more real.

for one thing, ayato isn't actually as quiet and well-behaved as everyone makes him out to be. sure, in school he's practically silent outside of his own friend group and when answering questions, but through text and when there's no one else in sight, he honestly could win an award for his silly behaviour. one of the things you'll never forget is when it was just the two of you in class after school packing up your bags when he started singing that song from frozen 2 for literally no reason. yeah, the one that goes OOooOOOoo… into the unknOWNNNNN!!!!!!!! actually, you're not even sure if it could be called singing when he was practically just yelling it. you shot him a surprised glance, trying to hide the smile twitching at the corner of your lips, but as soon as you met his eyes, you both burst into laughter.

however, he is (un)fortunately as clever as everyone believes, which spells nothing but trouble for you. not in a serious way, it just means you had more competition to get the best grades. ayato tops the class in additional maths, but he doesn't rub it in anyone's face or brag about it, in fact he even helps you out whenever you're struggling with the homework, although he does scold you for not paying attention. he even sends you the chemistry notes you missed so you don't get in trouble for not copying them, so you could never be upset with him for doing better than you. both of you are equally matched in accounting though, which leads to a friendly rivalry where both of you always try to outdo the other ever since the teacher himself announced that both of you were the only ones who could compete with each other's level for the subject. the two of you manag to get the exact same mark in the finals, scoring full marks on the mcq paper and the same mark for the structured paper, and so a truce is called. you still study together though, and exchange tips right before the papers which may or may not have saved your grades… you'll never tell.

-

ayato does things that you would find annoying if it wasn't by him. for example, he's taller than you, so he constantly steals your stuff and holds it above his head because he knows you can't reach it. he teases you about being a shortie and tells you to drink more milk when you jump for it and still fail to get it back, but he returns it when you ask nicely, though you swat his arm after and threaten to beat him up next time. also he purposely steps on your school shoes, but he makes sure to do it gently so you don't get hurt, but it usually ends up in a stupid race to step on each other's shoes, which actually seems like it'll give teyvat school a bad rep since both of you are prefects. (did you mention that he actually looks very hot in a white shirt and tie? because he does.)

there's even one time where you're on the phone with potential colleges (he's applying to the same ones as you, albeit for different courses), and he's being so irritating in the background, but it's so funny that you nearly burst into laughter while on the phone. it goes something like the person on the other end greeting you, "hello, this is liyue university, how may i help you?" and in the background he just goes, "wow, y/n, can't believe you got accepted to inazuma college!" it seriously makes you want to slap him but you end up snickering onto the phone before you remember you're still on the line and have to quickly try to cover it up, which only makes him laugh too.

ayato the genius all-rounder is also an incredibly good pianist, who's been learning since he was young. he performs at the annual school events, and submits a video for your online talent show during the pandemic. you're not going to lie, besides the fact that it's astonishing how quickly he can play and make it sound good, you do have an ulterior motive for rewatching the video at least twice… it's not your fault ayato has really nice hands! you swear your gaze turns into heart-eyes whenever you look (respectfully) at them. there's one day when the two of you are alone in the student lounge, and he starts playing this really beautiful song, and when he's done you just grin and applaud it, a million genuine compliments spilling from your lips. you'll always remember how his face turned a rosy hue at the praise, and he looked away, unable to meet your eyes as he thanked you embarrassedly.

-

kamisato ayato has been voted the #1 guy to date by every single girl in your grade based on his personality alone. honestly, the standards are so low but he's so sweet to everyone and never gets involved in drama, which makes everyone fall head over heels for him. sadly, you aren't exempt from this plague either, but you do feel a secret sense of satisfaction when one of the girls remark that they wish he was 'more flirty'. because the truth is; ayato is a flirt!

when the two of you start getting closer, the comments he make start to be more and more teasing, as if he's getting a kick out of your ?!?!?! reaction every time. for example, when you make fun of him for being single, asking, "ayato, when are you getting an s/o?" he doesn't miss a beat as he replies, "depends when you're free." safe to say you nearly melt into the floor at that exact moment.

also, he has another name which nobody calls him by, and so do you! but one day he suddenly asks you about it, and you respond that nobody's ever asked to call you that so you just don't mention it. you like your first name anyway. but ayato proudly declares, "then i'll be the first! if you're okay with it, of course." it's oddly endearing, in a way, so you give him permission, and he says you can call him 绫人. both of you change each other's contact names to your 'secret' other names, although ayato steals your phone and puts the word 'best' in front of his name so it ends up becoming something like 'Bestayato 绫人'.

a common trait between you and ayato is that both of you are always awake at weird hours, although for wildly different reasons. he's an insomniac, so he can't sleep, while you stay up late doing who knows what, so you just won't sleep. but one thing's for sure, you can always count on him to reply even if you shoot him a text at 3am. you'll end up scolding him for still being awake, and then he'll scold you for being awake, and then both of you will promise to sleep earlier the next day only for the same thing to repeat. one time he makes fun of you by sending you a picture of the ice-cream in his freezer as he goes to get a snack when you were about to sleep, and he promises he'll buy you some next time as an apology for making you crave dessert at 4 am. your late night conversations are the best though, with the glow of your phone illuminating your face and a stupid smile curving your lips every time you read his replies; having a crush is so much fun.

a/n ; lol academic rivals to lovers my beloathed /hj

© starglitterz 2022. do not repost or modify in any way.

#ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #ayato headcanons

[ant1quarian]

Massacre(Sans) x Reader Headcannons

Very rough sketch, so ignore the fact it’s crap. It’s just a concept sketch. ^

NOTE: MURDERTALE!Sans (or Dust) does not belong to me at ALL. Similarly, but not the same, Eldritch!MURDERTALE!Sans doesn’t belong COMPLETELY to me, as it is an AU of someone else's AU, but the character concept is mine.

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood/death, genocide, having a genocidal maniac as a boyfriend, weapons(?), dude’s got a sharp tail so I guess that counts? Also Angst, I think???

So, with that out of the way, incase you didn’t know, I’ve got “Eldritch” versions of the Sans’ and Papyrus’ AU’s… meaning that there’s a Eldritch version of every Sans and Papyrus I’ve come across, and every one I’ve made.

For more clarity on what, exactly, an Eldritch Skeleton is, there’s a post on my account that will tell you all about my little idea and its concepts.

Massacre, your datemate in this scenario, is the Eldritch version of Dust- or “Murder Sans”. So do enjoy.

- Okay, first off, this dude is EXTREMELY anti-social, and HIGHLY genocidal- even more so than the unEldritch version of him. 

- So how, in the ever-living shit, did this even happen in the first place?

- Anyway

- Starting with things that would be nice in this relationship…

- Well, he’s actually very kind. Not verbally- he doesn’t speak very often- but he’s always looking out for you. You’re his datemate, how can he not?

- Protective, yes, and this can be rather frustrating sometimes because he does, at times, tend to go overboard

- But for a dude who’s now immune to RESETS and has killed everyone he ever cared about just for peace of mind from the lil’ shit that slaughtered them all over and over, I’m actually shocked he hasn’t put you on complete house arrest.

- If he’s in this relationship with you, he is completely serious about it.

- Manz isn’t the type to fuck around. He’s straight-up, and is often viewed to be brutally honest. 

- He no longer cares about how anyone sees him, or how much really bad shit he’s done, he just takes it in his stride.

- Cocky at times, and proud underneath the hood that overshadows his entire face. He’s a Elskel (Eldritch Skeleton), it’s in their magic makeup.

- This being said, he sort of holds you on a pedestal, so he has no problems doing anything you ask at any given moment.

- … Within reason, of course.

- Now, onto the negative things you’ll have to deal with in the relationship- because lets be honest, no true relationship is completely without flaws.

- … When I said he was antisocial..? I actually meant that you should not, under any circumstances, force him to go out in a large crowd or even leave him alone for too long in a crowded place.

- I mean, unless you want to come back to a bunch of gorey shit and unrecognisable corpses everywhere because his instincts kicked in.

- HOWEVER, even if you do come back to that, he’ll literally just act like a guilty puppy. The sight of you coming back- his datemate, which he could not hurt IN THE SLIGHTEST (intentionally, that is) without feeling like he’s willingly tearing his soul (or, therefore, lack of) in two- and he’ll just rub the back of his skull with one of his undoubtedly blood-covered hands and grimace.

- Know that he loves you unconditionally, alright? He doesn’t usually say it- in fact, he doesn’t usually talk- but he really, really does.

- This being said, do not bring up Papyrus.

- For an explaination, y’know how Dust’s Papyrus encourages him to kill more?

- Well Massacre has gone so far that his Papyrus is literally deathly afraid of him.

- You will NOT catch this phantom in the same vicinity as Massacre, even though he has to be a certain distance away to even exist (because he runs off of Massacre’s magic).

- Although Massacre doesn’t mind explaining about his biology- how his void magic works ‘n all that stuff- he really doesn’t like bringing up his past in an in-depth sense.

- As passingly mentioned before, he doesn’t feel guilt for his actions- with his LV, he literally can’t. But he doesn’t like to think of it, because it reminds him of the little shit that he slaughtered hundreds of thousands of times over and over until they finally gave up. (It came to a point where the reset would literally just revive them and throw them back into their save area, but it wouldn’t return anything to life and it couldn’t change the code or the values of LV or EXP. Therefore, Massacre became fully resistant to ALL and ANY RESET used.)

- In other words, it makes him real pissed off, makes him miss Papyrus, and sharpens his instincts to a point where he becomes aloof for several days.

- Oh, and that leads us to our next thing.

- When you guys argue, expect the silent treatment. I mean, he’s usually real quiet ‘n shit, but broseph will straight up just ignore you.

- He knows it’s bad, but for the love of fuck he can’t let his pride and stubbornness go for the life of him.

- So unless you initiate it- or he sees you crying about it (In which all of his sins will begin to crawl on his back…) don’t expect him to apologise.

- There are exceptions to this- like if he realises he was in the wrong (but, like, really in the wrong)- then he will.

- Similarly, if some skeleton or monster brings it to his attention that he’s just being fucking stupid- specifically his younger(?), less-genocidal counterpart, Dust- then he will apologise.

- When he apologises, it’s a spur of the moment thing, but it’s always when you two are alone. And he will apologise for every single small thing he realised he was being petty and prideful about, down to the very last miniscule detail (Like stealing a chip from a bag of your favourite chips you were eating, for example). 

- Generally, it’d go something like this:

It had been at least a week since your argument with Massacre, and it had been at least a week since he’d decided he was going to completely ignore your existence.

Let’s just say, you never knew how much of a stubborn, prideful, tall shit your ever-loving, mass-genocidal datemate could be.

You were tired of it, but you, too, were stubborn. Far too stubborn to walk up to him and force him to apologise for being overreactive about going out with your friends that one night and staying out a couple hours later than when you said you’d get home.

You grimaced lightly, remembering the severely pissed off look he’d had in his eyes when he’d come to get you from where you guys were hanging out.

Considering the crowd, you were shocked that he’d even gone through with it without even murdering someone… or at least you were somewhat sure that he hadn’t.

Massacre was very easily capable of stealthily killing someone. So you could never be completely sure.

Shadows covered the large majority of the messy room you were in, moonlight streaming through the windows, catching on the soft grey curtains. On most of the flat, unused surfaces lay a fine layer of dust. Neither you or Massacre got caught up in a cleaning spree strong enough to get rid of it.

Faintly, you remember walking into the room to see him staring silently at the dust. Must have reminded him of something in his past.

Shifting on the comfortable, plush blankets underneath you, you took in a deep breath, feeling a weird mixture of irritation and comfort run throughout your system.

Massacre's scent clinged strongly to many things he came in contact with- even more so than any regular Elskel or Skeleton. An unusual metallic smell mixed with a hint of dampness and woodsmoke.

A presence not far behind you made you slowly roll over, only to see the all-too-familiar silhouette of your datemate leaning against the doorframe, both his arms crossed as his deadly-sharp tail shifted slightly from where it was loosely wrapped around his leg.

A heavy silence hung in the air like thick, black smoke. You stared emptily at Massacre, waiting for him to speak. His eyelights studied your face, the unusual but pretty contrast of blue against red catching your eye like they always did. Finally, a gentle sigh was pulled from his throat before he cleared it- how so, you’d asked once, considering it was bone. His answer had simply been “magic.”- and spoke. When he did, his voice was slightly rough and edged from underuse. Despite this, it managed to be that comforting baritone that you’d come to love.

“‘M sorry,” Massacre muttered, staring down at the paper in his hands which had a list of all of the things he’d done that was stupid, “I’m sorry for takin’ you away from your time with your friends ‘cause you didn’t come home when y’ said ya would. ‘M sorry for killin’ that dude the other week ‘cause of the way he was lookin’ at ya. ‘M sorry for acting out rashly without thought. ‘M sorry I’ve been gone so much ‘cause I've been busy a bunch lately. ‘M sorry I ate the bit of your favourite food the other week ‘cause I was too lazy to go grocery shopping ‘r to order from UT’s Grillby-”

He stopped, his eyelights abruptly shooting up to your smiling form when you cleared your throat. Both of your eyebrows were raised, a smirk ever present on your face. He knew you found this part of the apology adorable, and the very thought of you finding him- Dust’s far more genocidal, far more dangerous counterpart- adorable sent a fuzzy feeling alight in his SOUL and a purple, glowing blush to his cheekbones.

Suddenly, Massacre found the hardwood underfoot very interesting.

“You’re alright. Wish you’d apologise sooner, though,” You smiled at him, both arms spread as you invited him for cuddles, “And I was in the wrong this time, I should have at least messaged you to tell you that I was going to stay with them later. Though, you really have to stop with this whole ‘Ignoring-you-now’ thing. It gets tiring.”

Massacre hesitated for a moment before walking over to the bed, flicking the door closed behind him with his tail, before flopping onto your shared bed and placing his chin atop your head as he wrapped you up in a hug, “‘M sorry. I’ll try not to.”

You brushed the dust off of his turtleneck before it could go up your nose with a little chuckle, “It’s alright. Can we just sleep now, please?”

Massacre could not have been more happy to comply, the surprising weight of his arm around you comforting the both of you. Minutes before you fell into your own sleep, you could hear the soft, deep snores coming from him, gently rattling his ribcage.

With a final smile, you let sleep have you, giving into that heavy feeling that readily consumed your body.

- Yeah anyway, just a thought. (P.S, that was NOT meant to be that long.)

- ANYWAY

- Another negative- or positive, if you have insomnia or any sort of trouble sleeping- is the fact that, how his Void magic works, is that it consumes the magic of other sources around him, right?

- Which means, effectively, that his soul feeds off of yours. This often ends in you being quite tired after an hour or so of straight physical contact.

- This being said, once you two SOULBOND? There’ll be enough magic in between the both of you that having loads of physical contact with him doesn’t tire either of you out unless both of you want it to happen. (In other words, it becomes like a switch. You could turn it on or off.)

- Yeah, I think that’s about it.

Have fun with your new skeleboy! (Or Elskeboy? Dunno man. You choose)

#sansxreader #sans x reader #Massacre Sans #Eldritch Skeleton #Elskel #Oh look its an au of an au #Of Murdertale!Sans #Yoo #Genocidal Skeletons #Bro's one of my personal favs #Fluff? #Mentions of violence #Angst..? I guess #Comfort?

[astrumocs]

💋 💌 💰 🎨 👊 for my beloved oda obviously <333

💋 — kissing

Okay, so if I had to do a ranking of my best kissers Oda would easily be in the top 3, although it'd be hard to place him confidently in the number 1 spot with competition like Laelin and Reshaper.

Kisses are actually one of his favorite forms of physical contact; he loves chaste and quick kisses a lot, but he adores slow make-outs with people even more-- he would do it on and off for hours given the opportunity to do so. He's the type that would offer to teach someone how to kiss if they said they didn't know how tbh...

As for his behavior while kissing someone, he's got a good sense of where to tilt his head, how much pressure to use, etc. Oda will often caress your face or hold you in some way while he kisses you to add to the experience, too.

Rest under the Cut --

💌 — romance/flirting

Flirting? He's a major flirt, like, to the point that it can actually end up kind of… misleading? Not intentionally, of course, but he's just Like That, so people who aren't used to it can get some heavily mixed signals. The biggest problem is when people think he's after a serious relationship as a result of his behavior, and then he has to turn them down… Also, he'll flirt with anyone from new acquaintances to good friends.

When Oda develops feelings for someone, his flirtation doesn't change much so it's pretty hard to tell if he has a crush on you or not. The only way you can sort of tell is if his flirtation seems to lean towards one quad in particular, but even then, it's not a guaranteed giveaway.

In terms of Romance, Odarem is a Romantic at heart. If he's in a relationship, he'll be happier in general, and even smile more genuinely more often. When showing romance in a relationship (and even before, if he gets a crush on you) he studies his partner's love languages and makes mental notes of what they receive best, then provides it! He caves quickly to his lovers and is willing to put them over his morals more than he likes to admit.

In terms of how Oda receives love, the answer is… not great. Well, he can handle it 'okay' in pitch and flush, but the biggest problem lies in Pale. If you show him pale affection, give tinges of or vacillate pale for him, then his body enters flight mode and he'll often recoil from it and draw back from you. He also doesn't take his own love languages into account and lets his partners show affection however comes naturally to them, regardless of how well he receives it/is impacted by it.

A huge flaw of his is that, in romance, he wants to show you love on a surface level and a deeply intimate one (often integrating pale affection into all of his quads, hypocritically), but he'd prefer if you kept your love for him more on the surface.

🎨 — art

He's… okay? He can draw almost any simple thing with enough clarity that you can recognize what he's trying to portray to you, like a bird, tree, or a playing card, but anything super exciting or detailed is lost on him. Still, more going on than stick figures. Oda also has unnervingly steady hands, so his lines will always be even, purposeful, and solid in whatever he draws.

💰 — finance

Fairly good! Odarem tends to set aside a little bit of money on a monthly basis and lets it build up a fund for anything emergency or unexpected.

Outside of that, he'll put whatever's needed into necessities and then use everything else he has on his friends or gives it away to other people without much care for not having spending money. He doesn't really buy himself luxuries often, if ever really. Plants might be the one exception to this, but he never has too many at once so it's not exactly high cost.

👊 — fighting

Answered here. But I will say that he has had basic fleet combat training, even if it's been... 30+ years since he's used it.

#about odarem #wren speaks #afallatmak #skillset meme #hopefully this conveys what i was trying to say the first time around... i know its longer than last time so yk

[damnedreams]

❔

send ❔ and i’ll list a couple muses that i’d like to throw at yours! / @kyugens​

i loved all the ones you brought up in your response, so im gunna try not to do repeats!

itachi & hinata: i like the idea of them as friends, once hinata gets over her intimidation of itachi. maybe after seeing itachi mess with sasuke, like siblings do to each other (i feel like if she ever heard sasuke talk of itachi, she’d be like trying to reconcile thew two ideas of him she’s created: the high caliber shinobi vs itachi the brother sasuke describes). ive always thought hinata would find itachi to be a good a resource too, doesn’t feel judged in his presence. i’ll come clean and admit that i love having hinata being around uchihas okay. growing up with them or just being friends with them, etc. So just throwing out there lmao. but on a serious note ive always felt they could make good friends and supporters of each other. 

sasuke & kiba: i was reading over your information for kiba and i saw he’s wandering. so perhaps they can meet since sasuke is traveling too. at least he does for about five ish years. i don’t know what to expect out of them. that makes me curious of what could unfold. will they fight? talk? pass each other, run into each other again? get roped into teaming up bc a village needs help. there’s possibilities and im always happy to discuss them.  

naruto & kiba: falling back on my 10+ years of being in this fandom and all the fanworks i’ve consumed. these two as bros, like when they need a hype man they know who to hit up. when they need someone to get involved in a crazy scheme or spontaneous idea of going like a trip, they got each other on speed dial. of course they ask each other after asking their best friends, when those besties say no then they’re like well i know who will come. but then they’re also messing around with each other, making jabs at each other, challenging each other. they’re the gym bros that send each other pics of them flexing at the gym and to hold the other accountable. so that’s what i see with them. i know i used a lot of modern references but i didn’t have the brain power to make them naruto-setting related lmao. 

hinata & gaara: for these two i pictured hinata leaving konoha for some time. maybe she just needs to get away from the village, her clan, and reminder of neji. she decides to head out to sunagakure and that’s all i got. im not sure how to bring them together, but we can figure that out later. maybe she helps him with a long-term task of some sort, bc hinata would want to do something while in suna. maybe she goes there to work on assignment actually. and moments happen and they bond and become friends. 

the more we get to know each other muses, the easier it becomes to be like ‘yo i got an idea for these two’ so im excited to get everyone to interact at some point tbh. i just love see what can unfold ^^ 

and i’ll totally be sending u msgs on discord about the ones you brought up. my brain has just been not wanting to share it’s attention equally among all interests. 

#kyugens #.asks answered #thaaank you for sending! #i hope i made sense here #rubs my hands bc i think we got some good stuff