#it was fun before and now its just endless grinding

[atinyladybug-daydreams]

Advice from experience: Be VERY careful on spending money on games, especially if what you're spending money on is like, limited events and shit.

Once you're in, you're IN and it's very, very hard to get out of mostly because of guilt and not wanting to put down stuff you've spent hours grinding for.

#alt rambles #rants in tags #recently started putting down and breaking off of a game that i've been grinding on for two years #and realised how much more time i have on my hands #and how much less draining my daily life is #and that i have more energy and time to do stuff instead of spending 2-3 hours every day to grind on the game #yea i spent 2-3 sometimes 4 hours per day just playing this game on a daily basis for the last 2 years #because i spent money and a shit load of time and effort in it #so putting it down genuinely makes me feel a lot of guilt #cause i feel like its such a waste #but like idk #i got really frustrated the other day and so burned out i gave myself a few days break and hoenstly im doing so much better than before #and i actually have time to do other stuff and do more art that now im starting to like #not want to go back to playing the game anymore #lmao yea if you know me you know what game im talking about #i mean i still love the game but damn was it fucking predatory and its only gotten worse thanks to new updates imo #it was fun before and now its just endless grinding #anyways #its another reason why i dont wanna pick up playing genshit even though i really want to #cause i finally got scara (thanks friend who logs in sometimes) #cause like i know genshit will also do that to me smh #anyways idk its just been on my mind lately about how i have unhealthy relationships with a lot of video games #i think im just going to stick to games like sdv and sr that don't have event after event #so thta i can go for breaks without feeling bad or like im missing out

[ohnococo]

Sleep Tight | Hiromi Higuruma x Reader

Higuruma’s job leaves him busy, which means the two of you spend far too long as two passing ships, unable to indulge your urges.

He asks for one night to catch up on his sleep, then he’s all yours - but it turns out his body isn’t quite willing to let him make it through that night without being taken care of.

❥ WC: 2.4k

❥ Notes: a request for @bas-writes - Higuruma is so fun to write, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

❥ Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, SOMNOPHILIA (reader receiving), fem bodied reader/no pronouns used, established relationship, wet dreams (mentions of grinding, oral sex/deep-throating), mentions of masturbation, mentions of semi-public masturbation, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, creampie, sleepy sex

Higuruma feels like a complete fucking idiot.

He’d been pulling all-nighters for weeks now. Coming home well after you were asleep, then forced to get up and leave only a handful of hours later. His work was hard at the best of times, but not even having the respite of time with you had turned it into something much like running a marathon in lead shoes. But the only way out of it was through, and when things had finally settled down you were so eager to make up for lost time.

But… that extended lack of sleep and all of that stress had caught up to him. He’d apologised and apologised again and it still didn’t feel like enough, but he just needed one good night of sleep and he would be on you like it was the last day of your lives the following morning, he’d promised. And you’d accepted, being the caring partner that you are.

Except he didn’t even make it to morning, not properly. Or rather, Higuruma wasn’t counting it as morning, considering the sun wasn’t even up yet. But here he was, barely rested, still so tired he felt almost delirious. And here he was, so fucking hard his balls hurt and he thinks he might have discovered you can actually be so horny that it leaves you with a pounding headache.

It’s not the first time he’d woken up either. The first time, he’d opened his eyes, realised he was humping the mattress, and checked the clock to see it was midnight. You weren’t in bed yet, and he was still exhausted, so he ignored the stirring in his pyjamas, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Then he awoke and found himself hard again, cock pressed against the heavy duvet, trying to tent it despite not standing a chance against its weight. It was past uncomfortable at that point, but he turned to look at the clock and see those gently lit numbers telling him it was only just past 1 am. Once he’d heard you sighing next to him, he’d realised that you’d only just come to bed. It felt unfair to wake you, especially when his limbs still felt so heavy and he was tired enough that rolling onto his side was a feat. So again, he readjusted himself, and fell back asleep.

The next time he’d woken up, it was around 3 am, and he’d decided that his pyjamas weren't helping with his discomfort, constricting the erection that had returned once again, this time accompanied by a dream of you sitting on his lap and grinding against him. He’d groaned outright at that point.

First his work keeps him from sleeping, keeps him from you. Then the accumulated tiredness keeps him from you instead. And now, the result of so many days without satisfying his insatiable need for you keeps him from getting the sleep he needs to solve his little problem. An endless loop of torment for a man like him, who is more insatiable than most.

When he’d tried to adjust himself in search of a little comfort, he’d found his clothes sticky and clinging to him, precum having made them nearly translucent over this stressful night. He’d done what he could, sliding them off and kicking them out of the bed entirely before letting himself doze back off with that small semblance of relief.

But now it’s 4 am and his cock is throbbing, rudely interrupting his dream of you waking him up with your mouth on him. It was so vivid he’d almost been convinced it was real until he turned to see you were lying next to him, asleep, and not between his legs looking up at him from where his cock was buried in your throat.

Higuruma groans, wiping sweat from his upper lip, staring at the ceiling with his arms helplessly by his sides. He decides that his body won’t be letting him get any sleep until he solves this problem. Then he decides his mind had been admonishing him for being so selfish. Taking all the extra hours he can instead of delegating his work, denying your offer to empty his aching balls, and here he was dreaming of only his own pleasure. So he decides to focus on you first, at least enough to ensure you get yours. He slowly slides the duvet off of you both to pool at the bottom of the bed, and feels almost giddy at his absolute luck after his poor cock had been through so much turmoil.

It’s as if it were meant to happen, with you laying on your back, legs spread, shirt shoved up from tossing and turning of your own. You’re so ready for him, ready to be touched, that he can’t turn back now. He crawls slowly, pausing when the bed creaks or dips too low, until he’s settled himself between your legs. Face to face with your thinly veiled pussy, he can see a wetness of your own has formed, nearly outlining the contours of your slit, and he has to bite his fist to stop from groaning at the sight. It solidifies it for him, sheepishly jerking himself off over on his lonesome side of the bed could never be an option after looking at you in this state.

He moves his face closer, breathing you in, releasing that breath shakily onto your skin, and presses a slack tongue to the damp fabric. His eyes snap up, watching your reaction, but you only let out a breath barely louder than the last. He licks slowly, slowly upwards, eyes rolling as he gets a hint of the taste he knows so well through that dampened fabric, and when even that doesn’t do much to wake you, he concentrates his efforts on your clit.

It’s swollen enough to make its pert little self known through your clothing, and when he flicks at it with the tip of his tongue you let out a deep sigh. It has that little hint of something more that makes him realise that you’d almost certainly been just as pent up as he had. As his guilt at leaving you high and dry swells, so does his cock as his mind inundates him with vivid images of you clenching your thighs and squirming while missing having him there in your bed. Images of you frustrated, whining his name when your fingers and toys couldn’t do what he could. Images vivid enough that they almost felt like visions of what had indeed been happening in his absence. You, left here touching yourself night after night but finding those orgasms didn’t quite go as deep as they needed to without his cock and face and fingers to ride.

That’s more or less how the weeks had gone for Higuruma, when he felt like his head was going to explode during his late nights at work and the only way to stop it was to lock himself in the leaky bathroom on the abandoned floor above and beat his dick hard and fast while scrolling through whatever sweet little pictures you’d last sent him to remind him that you were home and waiting and meals weren’t quite as nice without him there to enjoy them with. It was never really satisfying, just a means to an end so he can think of something other than whining into your neck while you milk him dry.

It makes his heart clench, saddened and flattered at the unconfirmed but may-as-well-be-true-to-him thought that you might be helplessly fucking your pussy to thoughts of him. That maybe you were even dreaming about it now, like you couldn’t have the real thing, and you hadn’t - for far too long for how insatiable the two of you had been during your seemingly endless honeymoon phase. Higuruma thinks that he’ll never make you go so long without him again, even if he has to fuck you in his office, even if you have to climb on his cock while he’s passed out and dreaming of you sitting on his face.

These thoughts and the taste of you on his tongue act as a pincer attack on his hazy mind. It makes him forget himself, swiping his nose at your clit as his tongue busies itself trying to press at your entrance through the thin cloth keeping him from you. It’s not gentle, or subtle, but Higuruma isn’t thinking straight, not now that his mind is sending him on a spiral of filthy thoughts about how he needs to make you cum so hard you forget every night you’d been alone. He licks and nuzzles and sucks until your underwear are clinging to every contour of your pussy and even then he hovers so very close to grazing his teeth along your folds before he just catches himself.

It’s too much, because it’s too little, and his aching cock begs him to take care of you both as soon as possible. By the time he’s sitting up to settle between your spread legs his hands are shaking, and he has to hold his breath to steady them as he peels the sodden fabric away from you and pulls it to the side.

The way you glisten in the moonlight has him emotional, enough that he swears there are tears welling in his eyes - a pressure relieved by letting out a low sigh, shaky and distraught, as he pumps his cock in his hand and lines it up with you. Half of him wants to toy with you further, gliding his head against you, seeing if you’ll mewl for it the way he has to hold himself back from crying out for you, but the other half wins out as his cock throbs just from the lightest touch against you.

He pushes in, and the sticky sound of diving into your wetness makes his stomach clench, eyes rolling back as he bites his lip to stop from making the pathetic noise his body so badly wanted to release. He starts to push deeper, pausing and shaking his head as he realises it’ll just leave him cumming far too quickly, and that’s not what he’s here for right now, so he pulls back. His knees slide forward, nudging at your legs gently, as he repositions himself and starts making shallow thrusts, his tip just reaching deep enough to press and slide until he has your lips parting to release soft moans and your chest rising and falling faster and faster.

He grazes the pad of his thumb over your clit, holding his breath when it makes you clench around him, so he does it again. You only get wetter for him as he goes, warmer, more malleable as you beckon him to sink deeper and fill you completely, but he knows he has to wait, for both of your sakes. So he shuts his eyes, head falling back as he keeps the first few inches of himself lazily working at you, knowing he’ll get there eventually even like this.

You sigh, and squirm, and clench him again and again, sounds of your bodies like a wet squelch of a kiss as you work his tip even in dreams, and Higuruma doesn’t dare look at you - knowing that’ll be the end of him if he sees exactly what he’s feeling below. Instead he works his way just barely deeper, willing himself to enjoy the journey until that telltale clenching lets him know he can let go fully.

But his hastily laid plans change as you let out a moan and your knees lift towards your chest, a sound too loud and a move too big for you to still be sleeping. He looks down to find you looking as desperate as he feels right now with your curling toes and clenching hands. He doesn’t know when you woke up, but he knows you’re awake now, even if your eyes are closed, and your hands are down by your sides gripping the sheets tightly. He thrusts deep, for the first time in too long, and it makes you open your eyes, coming face to face with him as the tight squeeze of being buried so fully sends him bucking forward and catching himself with hands on either side of you.

“You’re awake.”

You laugh, breathy, clenching at him with the sound as he sets a new pace of long thrusts, “You’re fucking me.”

The hot breath of his laugh collides with yours as he gives you that lovesick smile that only has your pussy desperate to be ruined by him, so you wrap your arms around him and kiss at the corners of his mouth as you instruct him to finish what he’d started. “Go on, then.”

It’s playful, a soft challenge that has him hissing as he settles on his pace, heavy balls slapping at your ass as he makes sure you feel every inch of him you’d been without. He tries his best to keep his movements steady, but is all too aware of how he stays buried deep a little longer before pulling back with each thrust. He goes on like this until he’s barely leaving your heat, the thatch of hair scattered at his base rubbing against you with his desperate rocking.

Then you’re squeezing him tight, with arms and legs and pussy alike and it has him crying out. His full weight falls on top of you as all of his energy goes into thrusting - and staving off his body’s desperate call to release until you’re good and ready to squeeze it out of him on the tail end of your sleep-heightened orgasm. He sucks at your neck, sloppy and wet and barely muffling his shuddering groans until you’re finally cumming on his cock and rocking yourself up into his movements.

He sputters, whines, lets hot breaths loose against your neck as he cums right alongside you with the pull of your hungry heat. It’s a relief so great that it leaves him feeling boneless, like he was floating with only your body to keep him from drowning face down as his body and mind reset after cumming so hard after so long.

It’s much the same for you as well, with Higuruma acting as a weighted blanket over your body, the heat of him staving off the chill of the room as your skin cools down. He’s drifting off first, as is expected with such a tumultuous night, and you follow suit, only half thinking of the earful he’ll be getting in the morning for cumming inside of you.

#my writing #reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #jjk smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x you #higuruma x y/n #x reader #reader insert #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma x you #higuruma hiromi x reader

[emsfallingsky]

The Deepest Cut

Jake x reader

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! graphic sexual content, Angst, degrading, praise, impact play, slapping, language, name calling, unprotected sex, fingering, edging, drinking...that's all I think???

Summary: After a constant back and forth battle between the two of you that seemed to last forever, you find yourself in a position you couldn't even imagine, making you ask yourself if the two of you truly hated each other or were too caught up in your own feelings to truly express how you felt for each other.

You could feel him before you could even see him. The four walls that shaped the large room now felt reduced and constricted. The air became thick and heavy, forcing yourself to take in long deep breaths. You felt your jaw immediately set in place, your teeth practically grinding down to small pieces of sand from the pressure. 

You stood in the kitchen casually chatting with his brothers. Sammy was sitting on the counter, sipping out of his red solo cup while Danny stood next to him doing the same. Josh was on a drunken tangent that made zero sense but because of the effects of the alcohol, it had you all listening in intently. 

The sound of music trailed throughout the house, making them shout over one another trying to get a word in. A few people came and went into the kitchen refilling their own drinks or coming in to try and find someone they knew.

You had drained your cup and walked around to the other side of the island, grabbing a bottle off the counter to refill your drink when you felt him. The room grew stiff and cold, adrenaline surging into your veins and making the steady rhythm of your heart pick up in its pace. Even with your back faced to him, you knew. 

The chirping of your friends stopped, and you flicked your eyes up to see them all looking past you towards the doorway of the kitchen. 

Your hands clenched and you set the bottle down far harder that you had intended, making a clatter as it struck the counter. Every bone in your body became stiff and rigid and you had to will yourself to not turn around and instantly snap at him. 

Josh coughed and Sammy slid off the counter. “Jacob,” Josh said, quickly flicking his eyes over to you, a silent conversation playing between the two of you. You met Josh’s eyes and gave a tiny shake of your head to let him know it was fine. You reached for the juice on the counter and slowly began to pour it into your drink. 

Instantly your body start to lock up and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, feeling him come to stand right behind you. You quickly twisted the cap of the juice back on and turned on your heels not being able to take any more of it. 

You hadn’t realized just how close Jake was to you so when you spun around, you found yourself taking a step back against, pressing the small of your back against the counter, his face was only inches away from you. 

“What?” you spat out through gritted teeth, crossing your arms over your chest. 

You saw the corner of Jake’s lip curl up in a smirk and he let out a small laugh. “What? I can’t even walk into my own kitchen without you chewing me out,” Jake taunted, crossing his own arms over his chest, and leaning in closer to you. 

What had started off as casually making playful and teasing comments to one another ended up in an endless battle that the two of you never saw coming. At first you paid no mind to it, it was fun-flirty even. But as time went on, the two of you kept cutting deeper into one another trying to strike a nerve that was buried beneath each other's flesh. 

You don’t know how it happened but soon enough the two of you couldn’t stand each other. You found yourselves complaining at the thought or idea of even having to see each other and God forbid you actually ended up in the same room together. The two of you would go at it spitting venomous words at one another while you continued an endless verbal assault at one another. 

Before you knew it, the two of you couldn’t stand each other. It was actual torture to have to stand in the presence of one another and it came to a point where his brothers made sure the two of you rarely crossed paths. This on the other hand had been unexpected but was unavoidable. 

The Kiszka’s were known for throwing crazy parties every time their family left time leaving practically the whole town to cram together in their home. The voices of the others start up again, seeming to look past the interaction seeing that it was so far somewhat civilized. 

You narrowed your eyes, locking them with Jake’s while watching him try to fight the smile that was forming across his face. You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff. “You just always have to show up huh?” you spat out. 

Jake smiled and let out a giggle…a giggle? He placed one hand to the side of you, next to your hip and leaned against the counter, his body was practically up against yours. “You really are that dumb huh? I told you it was my house,” Jake said, clenching his jaw and speaking through his gritted teeth. 

You let out a huff and turned your head to the side, ripping your eyes away from him. “Fuck you Jake,” you said, letting out an annoyed sighed. 

Suddenly you could feel his breath against your neck, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your jawline. “You fucking wish,” Jake whispered into your ear. 

Your whole body tensed, and you sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the air catch in your chest. A familiar-yet shameful feeling grew within you, making you clamp your legs together with fail feeling Jake’s own leg positioned between yours, brushing against the exposed skin of your thigh. You took in a deep inhale trying to calm yourself down but instead were met by the intoxicating smell of his cologne that made your head start to spin.

Jake chuckled and glanced down, noticing your movement. Instead of removing his foot from between your legs, he nudged it further open with the side of his foot. “Ah, you do want me to fuck you then huh?” Jake taunted.

Your cheeks flushed, feeling embarrassed that you had been caught. You knew what you were feeling was wrong but the ache growing between your legs had your head spinning and telling you that those thoughts in your head were good. 

You quickly turned your head back practically bumping your face against his. You locked eyes with him and clenched your jaw. “You’re out of your mind. Why would anyone want to fuck you?” you spat at him. 

A smile grew on Jake’s face, and you watched his tongue poke out, wetting his bottom lip. “Must be my charm,” Jake said, giving you a wink. 

You threw your head back and laughed, truly taken back by his comment. “You? Charming? You clearly must be drunk,” you said, tauntingly. 

Jake’s smile on his face disappeared and his face set in a glare. He inched himself closer to you, so your noses were practically touching. “Maybe, but love, I can guarantee there is no amount of alcohol in the world that could possibly rid me from the amount of anger and hate you make me feel,” Jake sneered. 

You found your eyes dancing around his face, a blank expression on yours not knowing what to say. Most of the time you were able to brush off his comment but this one cut into you. 

Your jaw clenched so tight that the muscles in your jaw screamed at you. Your chest rose and fell heavily with each breath you took, and you were surprised you couldn’t see puffs of smoke in the air as you pushed out an audible huff through your nose.

Jake let out a breathy laugh and turned his head away from you. “What? Can’t take the heat?” Jake asked, tilting his head to the side. From the angle he tilted his head, your eyes cascaded down his neck seeing his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat while he awaited your response. 

You hated him. You hated the way he spoke to you; you hated the way you instantly found yourself getting riled up just being in his presence, but most of all you hated the way he undeniably made your legs clamp together and left your panties in a dripping mess. 

You uncrossed your arms letting them fall back to rest against the island. “Of course, I can take the heat. You’re just pathetic is all. You’re a fucking ass Jake Kiszka,” you sneered, tilting your chin up towards him. 

Jake smirked and trailed his eyes trail over your face, landing on your lips. Your mouth parted and you wet your bottom lip with your tongue unconsciously. Jake moved his face closer to you and rested his other hand to the side of you, trapping you between his arms and the counter.  

Your mind started to race as his eyes stayed locked on your lips, still inching close. You soon found your eyes slipping shut but just before his mouth was about to connect with yours, he turned his head and looked over your shoulder. His hand that was by your hip moved behind you as he plucked a bottle off the island. 

Jake pushed himself back, a playful smirk on his face, watching your face twist in confusion. “Something wrong love? Were you expecting something else?” Jake asked, pulling the top off the bottle, and taking a swig from it. 

You let out a frustrated groan and glared at him, crossing your arms against your chest once again. “Of course not. I’m not that stupid and I’m not that fucking easy,” you said, rolling your eyes. You even found it hard to believe the lie you pushed past your lips. 

“So I’ve noticed,” Jake said, smirking at you as he raised the bottle back to his lips. You uncrossed your arms and smacked them down at your sides, bawling your hands into fists. 

“God, you just make me so fucking mad you know that?” you snapped, taking a step forward towards him. 

“Ah, do I? I haven’t noticed,” Jake smirked, tilting his head down to look at you. 

“Would you stop that!” you yelled, feeling a crease form between your brows. 

“Stop what doll?” Jake said, cocking his head to the side, trying to read you. 

“You! Fucking smirking and laughing and shit. You find this amusing?” you asked, pushing a finger into his chest. 

Jake was taking another sip out of the bottle but sputtered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as the liquid leaked out of the corner of his mouth. He let out a small laugh and swallowed the rest of the alcohol. “You know, I do actually. It’s very amusing,” Jake grinned, taking a step towards you. “It’s very cute how you’re trying to hide just how bad you want me,”

Another frustrated groan left your chest, and you shook your head. “God, I fucking hate you so much. You just make me so fucking mad. I-I swear sometimes I just wanna-“

“Just wanna what? Hm? Wanna hurt me?” Jake said, taking another step towards you and moved his mouth to the side of your ear. “Do you promise you’ll make it hurt baby?” Jake whispered into your ear. 

A small gasp escaped you, only one that he could hear, and you watched him back up to look at you. The same stupid smirk growing on his face. 

Your eyes were locked on his and your whole body seemed to freeze. You didn’t know what to say. Instead, you cleared your throat, turning yourself back towards the counter and grabbing your drink while you walked past him. While you did so, you intentionally bumping into him with your shoulder as you excited. 

The rest of the night you tried to distract yourself by talking to friendly faces, but you couldn’t help but ignore the feeling of his presence. You would look over the shoulder of someone you were chatting with and there he was, leaning up against the wall or chatting with someone but his eyes always found yours. 

The tension in the room was thick and heavy. You could cut it with a knife. But this time it was a different kind of tension- not the short of tension the two of you were used to. The walls continued to feel as though they were suffocating you, but you knew the real reason you found it hard to breathe was because of the way Jake’s eyes were piercing through you. 

The harsh glare that usually overtook Jake’s face was now gone. Instead, his face was softened, and a light shade of pink covered the apples of his cheeks from the alcohol he had been drinking. His eyes that you so often found slitted and harsh you now found round and relaxed but there was something else written in them. It was like he was calling you with them wanting you to notice he was there. 

While he leaned against the wall, you could tell that he wasn’t just looking at you…he was studying you. Taking in not only the way you looked but the way you interacted with others. He found himself intrigued at the way you found yourself reaching out to grab hold of someone’s shoulder when they made you laugh or the way your eyes crinkled in the corner as you smiled. However, it wasn’t just him now noticing this sudden change. Whatever energy he was putting out was now influencing you. Your body seemed to buzz with this sort of electricity, feeling the tips of your toes and fingers tingle every time you caught Jake’s eye. 

It felt like this was the first time you were truly seeing him. Your eyes wandered all over him, taking him in. You were able to notice how the side up his mouth pulled up in the corner when he was talking to someone and when he smiled or laughed, he almost seemed to glow. 

Jake let out a giggle loud enough for you to hear across the room and you watched him rake his hand through his hair, catching its wavey locks between his fingers. Every small detail you noticed made you clench your legs together- from the way his nose came to a perfect point, to the way he would rub his fingers around the sides of his mouth when he was in a deep conversation with someone or the way he would lick over his pillowy soft lip after taking a sip from his drink. 

You tried your best to shake off the feeling that had overcome you which ultimately led to you downing a couple drinks to try and suppress the feeling. It helped to a point, and you felt the small buzz creeped into you, making you feel a bit loose and help ease the butterflies in your stomach. 

The night continued smoothly with you and Jake exchanging a few more glances at each other. Some of them seemed playful and flirty but sometimes you found him glaring at you with his jaw locked in place tightly making the muscles in his jaw flex. It made you frustrated. How could he look so sweet one time and then the next time look at you like he wanted to rip your head off?

You ended up stopping to chat with someone you recognized from middle school, indulging in the old stories you two were sharing together. You had been so caught up in conversation that you didn’t see Jake start to creep your way. The two of you were so infested in the conversation as you laughing together, reminiscing about younger days when suddenly you felt someone bump into your shoulder, making you spill your drink on your shirt. 

“What the fuck!” you said, turning on your heels to try and find the perpetrator. Your eyes landed on Jake who was glancing at you over his shoulder with a smug expression on his face. 

You let out a huff and threw your hand down against your thigh in frustration. “I fucking hate you Jacob!” you yelled, turning back to the girl you were chatting with, excusing yourself while you made your way to find a bathroom to clean off.

You started down the small hallway, finding the bathroom and locking yourself in it. You set your cup down on the counter and looked in the mirror seeing a stain covering the front of your shirt. You clenched your jaw and let out a huff through your nose. You were furious. Jake just kept digging deeper and deeper tonight pushing all your buttons to try and strike up your nerves. 

Grasping the handle of the sink, you turned on the faucet and started cleaning the stain on your shirt but wiped your head around hearing the doorknob jiggle. “Someone’s in here!” you called over your shoulder. 

The jiggling stopped for a second but then the sound of someone’s fists banging on the door made you whip your head around once again. “I said someone’s in here!” you yelled in frustration. 

This time the banging on the door was harder and made the entire door shake. You let out a groan, turning off the sink and walked over to the door grasping the handle and pulling it open. “Jesus Christ! I said someone was in-“

The words were caught in your throat seeing Jake standing in front of you, one of his arms propped on the door frame as he leaned against it. You let out a scoff and went to shut the door again, but we’re stopped by Jake’s hand pressing against the door. You shot him a glare which he ignored as he pushed the door open and stepped inside the bathroom. 

“I didn’t say you could come in,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Good thing I didn’t ask then,” Jake said shrugging as he closed the bathroom door, leaning himself against it and crossing his own arms over his chest. 

“What do you want Jake? you sighed defeatedly. You were over it. The constant bickering was exhausting, and you didn’t have it in you to keep at it. Plus, you now felt a bit nervous in his presence from all the looks he was shooting your way.

You turned back towards the sink, turning the faucet back on and grabbing a towel off the towel rack and wetting it. You started dabbing at your shirt, slowly raising your eyes to look at him in the mirror. One of Jake’s hands was raised to his mouth, a finger rubbing over his bottom lip as he looked back at you in the mirror. You were now the one to cock your head to the side and shoot him a puzzled look. 

Jake’s eyes met yours in the mirror and then ripped away as they slowly trailed down your body. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling your whole body freeze and goosebumps form across your skin watching him take in your figure. You quickly looked away, continuing to try and get the stain out of your shirt. “I’m serious Jake, what do you want?” 

The sound of the lock clicking made you turn around to face him. You frowned and looked at him, seeing that same stupid smirk on his face. “Jake what are you doing?” you asked, placing the damp towel on the counter and spinning yourself around.

Jake pushed himself off the door and took a few short steps toward you, closing the distance between the two of you. He didn’t stop until you were forced to press the small of your back up against the lip of the counter. 

“J-Jake,” you said, raising your hands up to press against his chest to try and stop him from coming closer but failed. As he came closer, you could smell the mixture of alcohol and hos cologne on him. He finally stopped himself, only a few inches away from you, your hands still on his chest, failing to push him back- not really wanting to push him back really. 

Jake’s eyes dipped down, and you watched them dance around your face before ultimately landing on your lips. He pulled his own bottom lip between his lip and mumbled something under his breath. You flicked your eyes back up to his own and saw his eyes looking back at you, his lids heavy as they peered down at you. 

A gasp escaped you when you felt his leg slide between yours, brushing against the inside of your thigh, feeling the fabric of your skirt ride up. Your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of his shirt, catching some of the chains from his necklaces in your hands. You looked back up and watched the corner of his mouth pull up in a smirk.

“Jake w-what are you doing?” you stuttered, your own eyes starting to dance across his face trying to read him. Jake hummed and leaned further into you, his mouth coming to the side of your face, whispering into your ear. 

“I think you know love,” he said, his voice deep and gravely, making you shudder. 

“W-what?” you stuttered, taken by surprise by his actions. 

“Oh, come on darling, don't play dumb,” Jake said, speaking into your neck. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me all night…you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

You let out a scoff and pushed him back trying to ignore the tingly feeling in the bottom of your stomach. “You must be out of your mind,” you snap, one hand still clutching the fabric of his shirt. Jake took a small step back; his leg still resting between yours while he smirked at you. 

“Is that so?” Jake says, cocking his head to the side and then you suddenly feel the top of his leg push forward and brush against your clit. You let out a gasp, biting your bottom lip.

“Sure, you don’t know what you’re talking about?” Jake said, placing both hands next to your hips on the counter, closing the distance between you. 

“Jake, d-dont,” you say, turning your head to avoid having to look at him. You knew, one glance and it was all over. You suddenly felt Jake’s breath against your neck, and it took you everything in your power to hold back the moan that threatened to escape you. 

“I’ll stop whenever you want me to,” Jake said, brushing his lips against the soft skin of your neck. The moans that were trying to desperately hold back ended up escaping, letting a soft whine fill the room.

“Mmm, see, we both know you don't want me to stop,” Jake said, pressing his lips to your neck. There was no point of holding anything back anymore and you let him draw out a pathetic whimper while you closed your eyes and leaned your head back.

“Is that right? Thought you hated me? Now look at you, practically crumbling to your feet before me…fucking pathetic,” Jake spat, removing his face away from your neck. You opened your eyes, bringing your face down to look at him while you clenched your jaw. 

“Oh, trust me, I do fucking hate you,” you said, through gritted teeth. Jake cocked his head to the side, his eyes gleaming in the low lighting from the bathroom. You watched as his tongue poked out of his mouth, grazing over the bottom of his lip while he turned his head to the side. 

“Oh yeah? Prove it,” Jake said in a voice that daunted you and left you shuddering before him. He knew he had put you in a position where you so badly want to push him away, but your body was failing you and telling you- pleadingfor you to draw him closer to you. 

You stared back at him, your eyes flickering all around his face while he stared back at you. He cocked one of his brows up, challenging you, waiting to see if you would make a move. 

You sucked in a hiss and the hands that were pressed to his chest, took hold of the fabric as you yanked him towards you. His mouth instantly collided with yours and you felt a rush throughout your body finally feeling his lips connecting with yours.

Jake’s hands found your waist and gripped your hips harshly as he pinned them back against the counter. You sucked in a breath feeling his hands finally on you. His touch was something you didn’t know you craved and now you had a piece of it, you knew there was no chance of going back. 

Both of your kisses were hungry as your mouths attacked each other, fighting for dominance while trying to communicate this ‘hatred’ the two of you had for one another. 

Your knees practically buckled when you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and then slip into your mouth. You let out a small moan into his mouth, removing one of your hands from his chest to grab at the side of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

Jake let out a hiss feeling you give a small tug to the hair on the base of his neck. He backed himself away just a few inches so he could get a good look at you. Your lips were swollen, and your cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink, this time not from the alcohol. You gripped harder on the handful of hair at the nape of his neck, trying to pull him back towards you. Jake bit his lip and smirked, leaning back into you.

“That’s it baby, need you to make it hurt,” Jake mumbled against your lips. His mouth returned to your, somehow hungrier than it was before. 

Your hands wandered over each other's bodies, pulling, and grabbing at each other not holding back. Your hand bawled the fabric of his shirt up tightly, raking your fingers over the fabric and digging into his skin beneath it. 

Jake bit down on your bottom lip, making you let out a hiss, feeling him break through the skin. “Fuck you,” you groaned. 

“Oh, trust me, I’m going to,” Jake smirked, placing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth. He took a step back, making you release the hold on his shirt. You were flustered and breathless resulting in your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. 

You rested your hands on the counter behind you while Jake studied you. He leaned back against the door, one hand on his face while he stroked his chin. His eyes wandered all over you, stopping occasionally, to soak up the edge of your curves. You felt yourself moving your legs together, trying to relieve the ache that grew between them.

Jake’s stare was heavy and intense, and you found your knuckles starting to turn white as you gripped harder against the counter. His stare was predatory…primal. There was a want- a need. A stare that was luring you in while you stood there helplessly waiting for him to sink his teeth into you. You were his prey, and he was going to devour you from the inside out and you gladly welcomed it. 

He had his bottom lip trapped between his two fingers, rolling it around while you watched his eyes narrow. Hiis hand lowered away from his mouth and then signal with his two fingers for you to approach him. You slowly released your grip you had against the counter and straightened yourself up.

“C'mere don’t go shy on me now love,” Jake said, the corner of his mouth twitching, clearly amused by your shudden shyness. 

“I’m not fucking shy,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoe. 

“What was that?” Jake asked, a crease forming between his eyes.

You cleared your throat and clenched your jaw, slowly bringing your eyes up to meet his. “I’m. Not. Fucking. Shy.”

You immediately regretted your words seeing Jake’s hand shoot out and wrap around your neck. A strangled gasp escaping you, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his hands dug into the sides of your neck. Your hands flew up, clutching his wrist while he peered down at you from the bridge of his nose. His eyes were ice cold, and you could see the muscles in his jaw flex as he clenched down. 

Jake moved his face close to yours, the tip of his nose poking against the hollow of your cheek. ‘I’m so sick of your fucking mouth. Knees now.” Jake hissed through gritted teeth. You could feel Jake press into the side of your neck once more, making your head spin from the lack of oxygen. 

“I said. Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees,” Jake spat and in one quick movement had you by the back of your hair, yanking you down before him. You felt the cold tile hit your knees and you let out a hiss feeling the combined pain of the floor against you and the ache of your hair being grasped against the base of your neck. 

Jake released his grip on you and moved his hand to cup the bottom of your chin, tilting it up towards him. You slowly looked up to meet his eyes and found yourself practically drooling at the sight of him. His long hair cascaded around his face and his bottom lip was parted and glistened from the thin sheen of saliva that coated it. 

His thumb lightly brushed the bottom of your lip, and you watched as he took in a visible breath, his chest rising and falling as he did. The sight of him was enough to make your head spin as you felt your wetness pooling between your legs. He looked completely fucked out with his heavy lids drinking in the sight of you kneeling before him. 

Jake pulled his hand away from you and started to quickly undo his belt, not paying much attention as his eyes stayed fixated upon you. You took your eyes off his looking down when you heard the metallic clinking of his belt buckle. You found your hands having a mind of their own as they came up to help him, popping open the button of his jeans. 

“Someone’s eager, hm?” Jake taunted while letting out a soft chuckle. You raised your eyes to his, a stern look coming over your face as you began to unzip him. 

“Shut up Jake,” you hissed, grabbing the top of his jeans, and sliding them down so they rested at the middle of his thighs. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Jake raise a hand and before you knew it a small smack landed to the side of your cheek. 

“Watch your mouth…you’ll be needing it soon,” Jake scolded. You rolled your eyes and moved your eyes back down to his center. Once your eyes landed back on him, you found yourself pulling your bottom lip into your mouth while you tried to hold back a groan. 

You could see his hardness straining against his boxers and a small wet spot to the side where his own arousal was having its own effect on him. “Fuck,” you mumbled, running one of your hands up the length of his thigh, squeezing at the muscle. 

“Yeah? Want to put your filthy little mouth around my cock?” Jake asked, moving his hips forwards toward your face. You bit your lip, tilting your head to connect with his gaze while you moved your hand to his center, palming at his bulge. You watched his expression change as he furrowed his brows together and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Jake’s eyes flicked down to your hand, and you felt him push his hips into it.

Jake moved his hands that were hanging down beside him, to sweep some of your hair that hung down in front of your face, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. “Take them off and wrap that dirty little mouth of yours around me,” Jake growled. 

Your eyes flicked back up to him seeing his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. An evil and cruel sight as he peered down at you; his jaw clenched while he tried his best to refrain himself. It was like watching a hawk circling above you, waiting for that perfect moment to strike. 

You took your eyes away from Jake’s, landing back on his hardness and moved your hand upward to tuck your fingers under the elastic band. You grabbed hold of the band slowly sliding the fabric down his legs. You had to hold back the gasp that threatened itself when his length revealed itself, coming up to hit against his stomach. You could feel yourself crumbling at the sight. The tip of his cock had a small bead of his arousal glistened in the low light in the bathroom. You found yourself stunned by his length, seeing the tip coming to rest just below his belly button.

“See something you like, doll?” Jake spoke from above you. You quickly nodded, not able to take your eyes off him. “Go on then,” Jake said, guiding your face towards him with your ponytail. 

You raised one of your hands and took his length in your hand, feeling just how big he was. His skin was warm and velvety smooth and as you wrapped your fingers around him, found they were barely able to touch. 

You moved yourself closer towards him, your hand stroking up his length, circling your thumb over his tip and spreading his arousal. You heard Jake let out a groan, urging you to continue. 

You gave him a few long, languid strokes before bringing your face close to his cock and giving his tip a teasing lick. The taste of him on your tongue made you let out a small moan and your eyes practically rolled back in your head. It was like tasting forbidden fruit, you knew you were supposed to but now that you’ve had a taste you knew you weren’t going to be able to stay away. 

You could feel Jake tighten his hand around your hair in response making a small whimper escape you. “Ah c’mon baby…I know you like a little pain,” Jake said in a deep, sultry voice.

You continue to teasingly lick around his shaft before bringing your tongue to the underside of his length and licking a long stripe up him until you got to his tip and took him into your mouth. “Fuuuck,” Jake groaned, throwing his head back against the door with a thud. 

You eventually sunk down onto him, feeling the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat and swallowing around him. “Oh god,” Jake moaned, feeling his cock twitch deep inside your mouth. 

Jake grabbed harder against your hair and forced you further down until the tip of your nose was pushed against the small dusting of hair. Tears started to spring to your eyes, and you fought your hardest trying not to gag. 

“Right there. C’mon now let me see those eyes. Wanna see how- fuck, how good you look with a mouthful of my cock,” Jake stuttered in between moans. 

You slowly lifted your gaze upward, watching the muscle on the exposed part of his abdomen twitch and tighten. You continue your stare upwards, seeing how his chest rose and fell as he took in shaky breaths feeling his own pleasure take over. 

Creeping higher, you saw the sides of his neck exposed and his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. The back of Jake’s head was resting on the bathroom door. His eyes were shut, and his brows were furrowed with his mouth hanging open. The sight of him made your core ache and left you clamping your thighs together. 

Jake’s hand was still holding you down on him and you found yourself breathing in deeply through your nose trying to force yourself around him. You watched Jake open his eyes and slowly peer down at you, looking at you over the bridge of his nose. You looked up at him with your tear filled eyes, nostril flaring with each breath you took around him. A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth seeing the sight of him buried deep in your mouth. 

“Finally got you to shut up huh?” Jake taunted and then finally tugged you back by your ponytail. He watched you come off of him, a string of saliva connected the two of you. You took in a deep audible breath, trying to catch your breath between coughs. 

Your hand found the base of his cock, wrapping around it and while you caught your breath. You started to stroke him once again, him now slick in your hand from your saliva. 

As you did, you peered up at him to see his response. Jake’s mouth was parted, and you watched him close it, clenching his jaw as you worked your way up to his tip. “Fuck,” he moaned, while his whole body shuddered as you circled his head with your palm. 

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, peering up at him through your lashes and rubbing his tip over the flat of your tongue.

“Fucking Christ,” Jake groaned, tightening his hold around your hair, making the back of your head practically scream for some sort of relief. 

You were leaning forward to wrap your mouth around him again when he forcefully tugged you back and pulled you to the side of him. He stepped away from the door and yanked you to where he was standing before, with your back facing the door. 

You winced, feeling pain course through you as Jake yanked you around handling you like you were nothing. You were something small and weak and he knew you wouldn’t fight him because deep down you were the one who was secretly hungry for him.

“Oh hush, I know you like it,” Jake snapped, positioning himself in front of you and trapping you between the door and his body. 

There was barely enough space for you to even look up at him and when you did, you saw him looking down at you, leaning against the door with his hand. His cock was inches away from your face, daring you to reach out and touch him. 

Jake let go of your hair and as he did, your head bounced back to hit the door from the sheer force of his hand that was once wrapped around you. You clenched your jaw, trying to push down the pain, taking a deep inhale. 

Jake smirked and tilted his chin up towards you. “You’re mean even when you aren’t talking…it’s not nice. Gonna have to teach you some manners,” Jake mumbled, while bringing his hand to your face and brushing his thumb over the top of your cheek. 

You rolled your eyes and tried to move your hand away from his palm but was quickly stopped when you felt his hand firmly grasp your face. His grip was tight as he pinched his fingers into the hollows of your cheek. 

“See, you could be nice but you’re not and it’s rather dumb of you because I know how badly you want it, so stop fucking fighting me,” Jake hissed and then shoved your head back, so it was now pressed against the door. 

“Not gonna let you get away with that thought…gonna have to teach you a lesson, okay?” Jake said in a horse force, letting up in the pressure of his fingers around your face. You quickly nodded, no longer feeling the urge to fight with him. 

Jake removed his hand from your face and wrapped it around his dick, giving it a few long strokes. “I’m gonna fuck those filthy words right out of your mouth,” Jake growled, tilting his hips forward so his hand now brushed against your bottom lip with each stroke. 

You started back at Jake, blinking a couple times before moving your gaze lower to watch him work himself over. Just the sight of him pleasuring himself would’ve been more than enough to send you over the edge.

Your gaze softened and you felt drunk off him. His words that you often hated hearing now left you crumbling before him. His presence that often made you immediately angered, annoyed and wanting to find a way to escape him now did the opposite by luring you in and enticing you to come back for more. 

“Open for me baby,” Jake whispered from above you. You did what he said, slowly unhinged your jaw and as you did you felt his tip brushing over your bottom lip.

“There you go, open a little wider for me, I wanna feel all of you,” Jake said, removing his hand from his cock and slowly started to press into your mouth. You fully released your jaw, allowing for him to slide fully in, resulting in a deep groan from him. You shifted your eyes upward, giving him an obscene sight as he sunk his cock further back, nudging the back of your throat. 

Jake’s brows furrowed and he let out a wince which to the blind eye would’ve made someone think he was in pain, but you knew it was pure pleasure. “God, fuck,” Jake groaned, resting his forehead against the inside of his arm. He slowly pulled out of your mouth before delivering a hard thrust to the back of your throat making you sputter and gag around him. 

“That’s it, c’mon I know your filthy mouth can take it,” Jake spurred on, pressing further back into your throat, making you gag around him. Your hand immediately came to his thigh, and you pushed him back feeling like your lungs were on fire. Jake took a step back, removing his cock from your mouth and let out a giggle. 

“Awe c’mon y/n, I know you can do better than that,” Jake said looking down and giving you a half smile. You looked back up at him, your eyes narrowing as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

Jake’s brows creased and you watched him take in a heavy breath before feeling his palm connect with your cheek. “Be fucking nice, I’m so sick of it,” Jake said scolding you.

You pushed your tongue to the side of your cheek and turned your head to the side, not meeting his gaze. “I am being nice,” you mumbled. 

Jake scoffed from above you and you felt his hand grab the bottom of your chin tilting it up towards him. “You know if you’re gonna say something smart, you better speak up so I can hear you. Now open your fucking mouth,” Jake spat.

You knew you were now in for it, seeing his playfulness quickly turn into frustration. You hesitantly opened your mouth knowing this time there was going to be no stopping the havoc he was about to unleash on your throat. 

You had barely opened your mouth when Jake forced it open with his cock and quickly showed it down your throat, giving you no time to adjust to him. His hand found the top of your head, grabbing hold of your hair as he started to mercilessly fuck into your mouth, pulling your forward onto him with each thrust. 

“Yeah, that’s fucking right, gonna fuck those words right out of you,” Jake grunted in between moans. You felt your whole body struggling against him. The muscles in your stomach tensing as you gagged around him, feeling tears start to fall down the sides of your cheeks. 

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment trying to fight back against your body, but we’re immediately scolded by Jake. “Open your eyes, wanna see your pretty little face while I fuck it,” Jake said, tugging the top of your hair just enough to make your neck crane upward. 

“There we go- God. Fuck!” Jake said, continuing his quick pace in your mouth. You would’ve been afraid at the thought of somebody possibly listening to the explicit sounds leaving your bodies, but you found yourself being able to tune everything out, leaving just you and Jake in the moment.

Jake delivered one final trust into your mouth and instead of pulling out, rested his cock right in the back of your throat. The blow of his thrust, pinning your head back against the door, feeling the walls of your throat swallow around him. 

Jake whimpered and turned his head to the side, burying his face into the side of his arm. You could see his mouth open as he tugged his teeth into the side of his arm, pulling in a hiss. He moved his head away from his arm and peered down at you, his pupil blown wide, consuming his iris. “God, how does something so filthy and sinful feel like heaven?” 

You held his gaze, watching him stare down lustfully at the sight of his cock hidden deep down inside your throat. He slowly pulled his hips back, removing his cock from your mouth. Once fully out of your mouth, you inhaled deeply trying to take in the air around you to help ease the fire that burned in your lungs. 

“Atta girl, see I knew you could do it,” Jake said, releasing the hold from your hair and moving his hand to gently stroke your cheek. His thumb moved down, brushing over your bottom lip, still slick with saliva and spreading the mess across your face. “Pretty,” Jake mumbled. 

You were taken back from his comment. You didn’t think in a million years you would ever hear Jake give you a compliment, let alone calling you pretty. Hearing his words of admiration made you suddenly feel shy, feeling blush spread across your cheeks.

Jake moved his hand away from your face, holding it out for you to take. You grabbed hold of it and felt Jake help bring you up, so you were standing in front of him. Your knees and thighs ached from being in such an uncomfortable position for so long that you found yourself grabbing his shoulder as you steadied yourself. 

Jake gave a small chuckle, watching you struggle to maintain your balance. He removed his hand from your grasp and brought it up to your face, brushing away the strands of hair that were sticking to the sides of your face from the saliva that coated your mouth. 

You stared longingly into his eyes, noticing the small golden flecks in his eyes that you never once had seen before. You watched as Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. This time it wasn’t rushed or hungry, it was surprisingly sweet. 

Jake pulled his lips away from you, resting his forehead against yours. He swiped his thumb up and down your cheek and as you stared back at him, feeling like this was the first time you were truly seeing him. He appeared soft before you, something that you hadn’t expected to see on him. But before you knew it, that special moment was gone watching him back his face away from yours, an evil smile forming across his face. “Probably thought I didn’t forget, hm?” Jake cooed, turning his head to the side. 

“W-what?” you asked, frowning in confusion. Jake let out a small chuckle and moved his face to the side of yours. You felt his hand grab hold of your waist, pulling them towards him. 

“Still gotta teach you some manners” Jake whispered into your ear, giving it a small nip, and making the hair on your neck stand up.

Before you had time to answer, Jake was picking you up and placing you on the edge of the counter. As he walked you over, you could feel his cock brushing against the inside of your leg, and you felt your whole body shudder from the contact. 

Jake set you down on the counter, standing in between your legs. His hands still rested on your hips, digging his fingers into the muscle feeling a dull ache start to form. He stared at you intensely and you held your breath waiting to see what his next moves were. A sudden gasp escaped you felt you felt him shift his hips forward, brushing his erection against the front of your panties, ghosting over your clit. Your hands once again found themselves gripping the fabric of his shirt, your mouth hanging loosely as you folded forward into him. 

Jake let out a small chuckle grabbing hold of you while your forehead resting against his chest. You were certain that you could feel his body relax into you, but the moment was short lived, feeling his hand come off of your hip and onto your shoulder. 

“Awe c’mon now…I haven’t even touched you and you’re quite literally folding in front of me,” Jake said, pushing you back by your shoulder so you were now sitting upright. “Don’t go soft on me now,” Jake whispered, trailing the tip of his finger down your shoulder. 

He swept his finger back up the length of your arm and then proceeded to run it over the length of your collar bone. You sat on the edge of the counter watching him intently while you saw his eyes flick down to watch his hands trace over your body. 

You felt your breath catch in your chest when you felt the tip of his finger dip under the front of your tank top and teasingly swipe over the swell of your breast. Your mouth parted slightly, and you instinctively arched your back into his touch. Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours and you watched his eyes soften as he took in the sight of you. 

Jake’s eyes danced over your face, and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth feeling yourself getting drunk off the way he was staring at you. It seemed like his guard was down and you saw that small, rare glimpse of his soft side. 

Jake's other hand came to cup the side of your neck and you watched his eyes flick down to your lips. You watched as Jake’s tongue poked out of his mouth and then swipe over his bottom lip. 

You let your free hand that wasn’t grabbing hold of his shirt come up to rest on his abdomen, the palm of your hand brushing against the bare skin of his thigh while you slid your hand upwards. Jake took in a shaky breath feeling your hand rest on his body and you felt his cock twitch against your inner thigh. You watched him slowly lean into you, his eyes never leaving yours before his mouth met your own.

This time when his lips met yours, you found time to start to slow down. While you both wanted each other badly, even if you wouldn’t admit it, this new kiss felt soft…passionate even. 

You found your hands traveling up the length of him, exploring his own body and discovering places you didn’t even know about. You were rather surprised, feeling just how warm his body felt under your hand since more times than not, his presence would leave you feeling ice cold. 

Jake took his time with you, placing soft kisses to your lips while his hands gently roamed your body, lingering on the tops of your hips while he gave them a good squeeze. He gave a teasing lick to your top lip and just as you started to part it, he pulled away giving you a teasing smirk. You let out a huff, bawling the fabric of his shirt into your hand out of frustration. 

Jake let out a laugh and then press his mouth to your cheek, giving it a small kiss. “Hm? Something you want?” Jake asked, beginning to press small kisses under the shell of your ear and down your neck. 

You threw your head back, feeling his lips graze over the sensitive skin on your neck and instantly start to feel your wetness pool between your legs. “Fuuuuck Jake,” you moan, clamping your eyes closed and pushing your chest further into him. 

“What?” Jake mumbled into your skin while his hand that had a hold on your hip coming off and started to squeeze your thigh. You released the hold on his shirt and snaked your arm behind his head, pulling his head further into your neck as he began to suck on it. “Fuck,” you moaned, sliding your hand down his shirt trying to reach his erection. 

Jake took his hand that was resting on the side of your neck and placed it over your free hand and stopped it. You instantly opened your eyes and looked down at his hand and then back up to him with a confused frown on your face. 

Jake’s eyes met your and you saw the corner of his mouth turn up into a smile before shooting you a coy looking trying his best to hide the smile on his face. “Still gotta teach you those manners” Jake said in a slightly British accent. You let out a soft giggle and looked down, hiding the blush the was creeping onto your face. 

“I think it’s time to change that,” Jake said, leaning his face back towards yours so he could whisper in your ear. 

Jake’s hand that was resting on your thigh slowly started to run up and down it and you found your leg slowly starting to close, feeling your arousal spread throughout your body. Jake started to pepper kisses along your neck once more and released his hand on top of yours. 

“You don’t get to touch me until I tell you to, now keep that hand right there and don’t you dare move it, do you understand?” Jake growled into your ear. You quickly nodded your head against him, gripping another handful of his shirt, this time to make sure you hung onto him and didn’t dare to move. 

Jake’s hand that was rubbing against your thigh came down and gave it a small tap that made your whole body jolt. 

“Words. C’mon you know this…and don’t get too smart with them,” Jake said, continuing to press sloppy open mouth kisses down your neck. 

“Y-yea-fuck'' you started to say but were cutoff when you felt Jake’s mouth suck on the special space where your shoulder connected to your neck. 

“Uh-uh, try it again,” Jake said, giving your thigh another swat before reattaching his mouth to your neck. You took in a deep inhale, leaning your head back and feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Yes Jake,” you moaned, your hand that had been resting on the back of his neck, coming to tangle in his hair. You felt Jake’s hand continue to squeeze harder into your thigh and your whole body shuddered when you felt his thumb come down and swipe the edge of your panties. 

“Yeah?” Jake said, pulling his mouth off your neck to look at your face that was tightly knitted together in pleasure. You bit your bottom lip, nodding your head while you gripped on the back of his head harder, trying to draw him back to you, 

Jake continued to give you soft kisses along your neck, his hand still resting on your thigh while he continued to give you teasing swipes to the inside of your thigh. You found yourself growing impatient as Jake continued to tease you and you found yourself throwing your head back against the mirror and letting out a loud huff. 

Jake sucked rather harshly against your neck, surely leaving a mark as he silently scolded you. 

Your face shriveled up from the dull ache Jake was pulling against your skin, a warning to show that he didn’t have to use his words to get to you to behave. He made sure unspoken words were now a part of you. His own scripture now woven into your skin. 

You were so caught up in feeling Jake’s mouth wander across your skin that you practically flew across the room feeling his thumb finally come down to swipe over your clit. A whimper escaped which resulted in Jake bucking his own hips against your leg in response to you. Your hand dug harder into his hair as he slowly started working on your bundle of nerves, sending you into a frenzy. 

With your head resting against the mirror, you found yourself sitting further back, allowing you to spread your legs even further apart for him. The sound of Jake letting out a low groan of approval is what had you slowly starting to approach your edge. The combination of Jake working steadily over you and the attentiveness he was giving to the sweet spot on your neck, had your body flooding with nothing but pure pleasure. 

Jake turned his head, taking his mouth away from your neck and rested his forehead against yours. You started helplessly into his eyes as your free hand gripped hard onto his hair and your other hand came down to latch onto his wrist that was working on you, trying to push him even closer against you as stars began to dance behind your eyes. 

Your jaw hung loosely, and you watched his eyes connect with yours to glance down at his hand, his tongue running over the bottom of his lip as he too furrowed his brows together. 

Jake’s face was bunched up as he focused hard on watching you unravel beneath his touch, pinpointing each spot that made your head spin. 

Your breathing started to become erratic and soon you were gasping for air while your legs slowly started to slide together. “J-Jake I’m gon-fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, folding yourself forward into him, resting your head against his shoulder. 

Jake moved his hand that wasn’t fixated between your legs to gently push you back and brush your hair out of your face. You looked up at him, your eyes barely able to stay open feeling yourself teetering right over the edge. 

You were just about to crash over it when Jake smirked and pulled his hand away. You instantly open your eyes and tighten your grip around Jake, frantically darting your eyes around his face to try and find a reason as to why he pulled away. 

Jake just stood there with his signature smug expression on his face, his eyes flickering back and forth from your eyes to your face watching as it bunches in confusion. 

“Jake what the fuck!” you groaned, hitting his chest, causing him to move back a bit. His head turned to face away from you, and you saw that playful smile on it but he quickly wiped it off as he turned back towards you. This time his eyes were dark and stern and as he came closer to you, your whole body froze. His presence was now the one you had become so familiar with. Cold, daunting, and able to suck up all the energy in the room as the room grew into a hushed silence. 

Jake’s hand flew away from your shoulder and wrapped around your neck, cutting into the pressure points. You found yourself gasping, feeling all the air empty from your lungs as he pressed you back to the mirror, pinning you there by your throat. He nudged your leg that had come close together as he wiggled himself between them. 

You were gasping for air, but Jake was relentless and only dug his fingers further into your neck. The way he was looking at you made your whole body tingle not only in excitement but also in anticipation as you tried to calculate his next move. 

Your hand flew up to his wrist, trying your hardest to signal to him to let up on the death grip he had on your throat. Jake looked at you sternly, his brows knitted together while the muscles in his jaw flexed as he clenched down. He pushed you further up against the mirror while he slowly came closer to your face. 

“J-Jake, you gasped, starting to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. 

“Thought I told to stay still and not move,” Jake said, growling into your ear. 

You felt all the color drop from your face knowing you were in deep shit. You wriggled beneath him, trying to find some sort of leeway in his grasp but failed. Your hand gripped harder around his wrist which only made him tighten his hand further. The pressure was now almost unbearable, and it was to the point where you were starting to see stars, sadly this time not from pleasure. You closed your eyes, trying to pull in deep breaths through your nose to steady yourself. 

“Like I said, we’re gonna need to work on those manners,” Jake whispered. You opened your eyes as you felt his hips shift forward, the tip of his cock now catching your clit. You tried to gasp but were unable to from the sheer force Jake had around your neck. 

You looked up at him, knowingly looking desperate as you pleaded with your eyes from him to make a move and finish what he had started between your legs. Jake smirked at you, rutting his hips forward once again, this time firmly pressing his dick to your core. You let out a stifled moan and bit your lip trying your best to contain yourself. 

With his free hand, Jake moved his hand between your legs, grabbing the edge of your panties and pulling them to the side. Jake then reached down and grasped himself firmly, pumping himself slowly while staring longingly in your eyes. His hand that was wrapped around your throat loosened a bit, so you were now able to pull in a deep breath that your lungs were burning for. 

Jake licked his bottom lip and pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek turning his head to the side while he looked you up and down. “You want it?” Jake asked smugly, glancing down between your legs and swiping the tip of his cock over your clit. 

“Fuck!” you gasped feeling your whole body jolt from the contact. Your hand instinctively gripped harder around Jake’s wrist, this time digging your nails into his skin. Jake smirked and continued to run himself between your folds watching you completely lose yourself. 

“Tell me you want it…I want you begging for it,” Jake growled, running his tip down from your clit so it caught your entrance but before he dipped it in, moved it back up to circle your clit. 

“Jake, I need it! Need you to fuck me” you whimpered, bucking your hips up, trying to further chase him. Jake slowly looked up at you, looking completely fucked out under the low lighting of the bathroom. You could see him struggling to maintain his composure, seeing how his own body shuddered while he ran his cock through your wetness. 

“Good, but not good enough…use some manners,” Jake mumbled, adjusting his hand around your throat so his thumb grazed over your bottom lip. You let out a frustrated groan, clamping your eyes shut. 

“Jake just fucking do it!” you snapped back. You instantly felt Jake’s hand come off your throat to deliver a small tap to the side of your face before quickly wrapping his hand around your throat once more. 

“Knock that shit off. I can easily walk away and leave you in here,” Jake spat through gritted teeth. 

“You can put you won't,” you quipped, this time your own evil smirk stretching across your face while you sat up, smiling at him from under your lashes. Jake’s hand tightened around your throat and firmly pushed you back against the mirror, far harsher than before leaving the back of your head to hit the mirror causing you to wince. 

“Fucking watch me,” Jake growled into your ear, rutting his hips up against your center. You threw your head back, your jaw unhinging while a small moan escaped you. 

“See, you think you’re all tough, but your body is failing you little one,” Jake said, slowly dragging the head of his dick through your folds, collecting your wetness over him. You couldn’t even snap back, you knew he was right and as much as you were trying to fight it, you wanted him in every way possible. 

“Now use those manners baby…say please,” Jake whispered into your ear, slowly moving down to brush his lips under the shell of your ear. You bit your lip and turned your head away from him letting out a deep sigh. 

“C’mon now baby, I know you want it. Just need to hear you say it,” Jake whispered against your skin, pressing light kisses against your neck. You couldn’t take it any longer, as badly as you wanted to fight against him and snap back, your body was failing you to make any rational decisions. 

“Jake…please. Please fuck me,” you whispered in a voice that was barely audible. Jake continued to press light kisses to your neck but pulled his mouth away just barely to mumble into your neck. 

“M’sorry what was that?” Jake mumbled and you were able to feel the evil smile that spread across his face against your neck. 

“I said plea-” You were instantly cut off feeling Jake’s cock dip down and slowly slide into you. You gasped and grabbed ahold of his arms feeling your whole body quiver around him. 

“Fuuuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back while you felt him push into the hilt. 

Jake sucked against your neck, his own shaky gasp breaking through him. He pulled himself upward, looking longingly at you while slowly tracing his eyes down your body to watch as he buried himself in you. 

“Mmm, see I knew that dirty mouth of yours could be sweet,” Jake said, pulling himself back and then pumping back into you slowly, feeling your walls wrap around him. “Fuck,” Jake whispered, his mouth parting slightly while he watched himself. 

Jake removed his hand from your throat and fixed both of his hands to rest on your hips, pulling you further towards him. A moan escaped you, feeling him push you further onto him. He slowly started to pump into you, his hands now starting to dig into the muscle of your hips. 

Jake removed one of his hands from your hip to grab the edge of his shirt and tuck it under his chin, so he was able to get a better view as he pumped into you. The sight of him looking completely fucked out as he pumped into you made you clench your walls around him. Jake’s eyes quickly flicked up to your face and you watched as he clenched his jaw. 

“Don’t fucking do that,” Jake growled, smacking the inside of your thigh. 

“Do what?” you asked, batting your lashes while you clenched harder around him. 

“Jesus fuck, that…stop it,” Jake moaned. 

“Mmm, why? Am I making you feel good?” you asked, removing your hand from his arm to push a strand of hair behind his ear, making the edge of his shirt he was holding fall back down between you. You could tell he was caught off guard by your action by the way his face knitted together but then slowly relaxed under your touch. 

“Shut up,” Jake mumbled, slipping his eyes shut while he pumped into you. A soft moan of pleasure escaped him, and he opened his eyes, this time dropping the softer side of him and looking at you with hungry eyes, wanting to devour you from the inside out. 

Jake gripped hard on your hips and delivered a hard thrust, his eyes fixated on your face to see your reaction. Your eyes grew wide, and you clung onto him, feeling the wind being knocked out of your chest by the sheer force he put behind him. 

Jake studied you for a moment and when he saw the reaction he pulled from you, pulled back and gave you another hard thrust. Your hands clawed onto his forearms, feeling the tip of his cock brush against your cervix. 

“Sh-shit Jake,” you moaned, closing your eyes, and letting out a groan  deep from within your chest. Jake stood in front of you watching your struggle to take him fully and the sheer sight of you falling apart around him only urged him on further. 

You felt one of his hands come off your hip to wrap your throat around, making you open your eyes to see him staring at you with heavy lidded eyes. His fingers gripped hard into your neck as he started to thrust into you hard, building a steady pace. 

With each pump, the tip of his cock found the special spot inside of you that made your walls flutter around him and made your head feel like it was floating. You found it hard to believe that the same man you had come to loathe and despise, was now making you completely enamored with him. The person you had come to hate had now given you the stupid mistake of giving a part of himself to you and you knew that this was going to be far deeper than any cut the two of you had made in the past. 

The two of you were gripping and pawing at each other trying to fight not only each other but yourselves as you both slowly started to overcome the distaste you had for each other that slowly turned into nothing but lust-filled pleasure. You could hear the music booming from outside the bathroom and you were hoping it was loud enough to mask the animalistic sounds that were coming from the two of you. 

Jake was no longer taking his time to try and be gentle, with each thrust he would move your whole body backwards, sliding you back on the top of the counter. The hand he had wrapped around your neck was so tight you knew red marks would be left but you found yourself able to ignore the ache as pleasure swept throughout your body. 

Jake slowed his pace down and pulled out of you almost all the way before delivering one final hard thrust into you that made your whole body collapse around him. You rested your head to his chest letting out a shaky groan. As you sat back up, you released one of your hands from his forearms and smacked his chest hard. 

“I fucking hate you,” you mumbled. 

“Mmm, is that so?” Jake said in a voice that was barely audible. You quickly nodded your head against him and felt him tap your hip. “Bend over for me.” 

You nodded your head and watched as Jake took a small step back, sliding out of you making your let out a small whimper. The corner of Jake’s mouth turned up in a small smile hearing the sound of your protest as he pulled away from you. 

As you scooted off the counter, you couldn’t help but ignore the dull ache not only between your legs but deep inside of you from where he was brushing against your cervix. 

You fully stood yourself up, brushing the hair out of your face and trying to regain what you had left of your composure, but it was short lived feeling Jake’s hand on your hip and instantly spinning you around to face the counter. 

Jake stepped up behind you, pressing his erection to your back and placing a hand on the top of your shoulder. His hand rubbed against your shoulder while he pressed your hips into the edge of the counter making you unconsciously start to bend over. 

Jake pulled you back up and pulled you against him, so your back was pressed firmly against his chest. His other hand came to the front of your hip, holding you in place while you felt the tip of his nose nuzzle into the side of your head.

“You okay there baby?” Jake asked, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

“I’m fine,” you snapped back, clenching your jaw together. You heard Jake hiss and felt his hand leave the front of your hip and come to your backside, pulling up your skirt and delivering a sharp smack to your ass. You jolted forward not expecting the blow and found yourself bending over the counter, catching his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. 

His long hair now stuck to the sides of his neck and face as a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. The eyes you had recently just discovered as being warm and honey colored were now almost completely black as you watched his face turn stern with frustration. 

You were able to catch sight of your own reflection to see yourself completely disheveled. Your cheeks were flushed and the mascara you were wearing was now smudged under your eyes. Your hair that you had spent a good time doing was now completely ruined as it stuck to the sides of your face and neck. 

Jake’s hand came off of your backside and slid up your back pressing you forward so your chest now rested on top of the cool granite. Once he was satisfied with the way you were bent over in front of him, he slid his hand up further, grabbing a fistful of hair, painfully yanking your neck up. 

“I thought I fucking told you to be nice,” Jake growled, pressing his hips harder against you, making the edge of the counter dig into the front of your hips. You let out a hiss and closed your eyes feeling your whole body start to ache. 

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Jake said, releasing the strong hold on your hair, making your head fall forward. Jake ran his hand slowly down your back, making your whole body tingle in anticipation before he let it rest on your back side, grabbing a handful of it. 

You watched him closely in the mirror, seeing himself completely transfixed on your body, his hands wandering across your skin as he now took the time to familiarize himself with your body. Jake’s hand slid up the back of the leg, pushing up your dress and bunching it at your waist. 

Jake’s hand came back down, looping his fingers under the elastic band of your thong and yanking them down your legs. His hand ran up the back of your thigh making goosebumps appear spread across your skin. You felt him grasp his cock in his hand slowly starting to pump himself, feeling his knuckles swipe across your skin as he did so. 

Jake let go of himself, resting his cock against the inside of your leg before meeting your eyes in the mirror. You stared back at him, finding your breath catching in your chest. The same daunting presence making your skin crawl. Jake raised his eyes back up to catch your own in the reflection of the mirror and you watched as his whole body seemed to soften. 

“This is okay right? Y-you want this?” Jake asked, dipping his head further down to catch your eyes. 

You quickly nodded, not tearing your eyes away from his. “Yes Jake, I promise.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and you watched his eyes light up in the mirror, the golden flecks catching the light while his whole body seemed to glow. “Good,” you heard him whisper. 

You soon felt his hand come up to grip the side of your hip and you watched him look down, bringing his other hand up to his mouth and spitting on it before bringing it back down to run over the head of his cock. 

Jake looked back up and you watched the corner of his mouth pull in a smirk as you felt the head of his cock slowly start to push its way inside of you. You bit your lip trying your hardest to not make a sound feeling a small sting as you stretched around him. 

“Fuck,” Jake moaned, gripping both of your hips, and pushing himself to the hilt inside of you. Your head fell forward, your jaw hanging loosely while your own sounds of pleasure escaped you. 

Jake steadied himself inside of you, pausing to get himself refamiliarized with your body before reaching to the front of you and grabbing your arm and pinning it behind you. You lifted your head up slightly to watch him and saw his eyes staring back at yours. 

He clenched his jaw and slowly pulled himself out of you and then quickly snapped his hips back, burying himself deep inside of you. You gasped and bawled your hand into a fist behind your back. 

Jake did the same thing, slowly pulling out of you to the point you thought he was going to slip out of you and then thrusting hard into you. You let out another deep groan, furrowing your brows together, while you struggled to maintain eye contact with you. 

As you watched him in the mirror, you could tell he was growing more and more confident with himself seeing how you reacted to him. His grip tightened around the holds he had on your body, and he slammed into you again, this time not giving you time to get used to him pushing deep inside of you as he started to pick up a brutal pace. 

The sounds of pleasure filled the room as the two of you moaned and gasped each other’s names between breath’s. His hands dug into the points of your body, silent reminders for tomorrow of the events that were now taking place. 

Jake’s eyes slowly started to close, and you watched him throw his head back, thrusting hard into you while his neck glistened from the small beads of sweat that clung to him. The sight of him alone was enough to make your walls start to flutter around him. 

He noticed the way your body reacted to him, and his eyes opened, and you were met with his blown out pupils staring back at you. His jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth tightly together, quickening his pace making you unable to form any words, let alone usher a sound. The only sound that you were able to make was a squeaky groan from the back of your throat that left your mouth hanging loosely. 

Jake smiled at you in the mirror and then bent himself over, pressing his chest to his back, halting his movements while his nose brushed against the shell of your ear. “Look at that…finally have you speechless hm?” Jake whispered, followed by a small giggle. 

There was no way you could possibly think of any quick comebacks feeling your brain start to turn to mush. All you could do was grab hold of his wrist, that had your own pinned against your back. 

Jake pressed a kiss to your temple and straightened himself back up. He let out a grunt before gripping your hip and pushing back towards him, starting his pace back up. You tried your best to watch him in the mirror but found yourself unable to focus on anything, finding yourself in a daze while your body started to turn limp. 

You leaned yourself further forward, turning your head to press your cheek to the cool top of the counter, letting it hold your weight as you felt your legs start to shake. 

“That’s it baby, let go…I can feel how close you are,” Jake cooed. 

You knitted your face tight, feeling your climax quickly approaching. You dug your nails tightly into Jake’s wrist and your whole body began to shake. With one final deep thrust, you let out a deep groan before feeling your walls tighten around him and feeling the sweet wave of bliss wash over your body. 

As you were coming undone around him, Jake swept his hands under your stomach, lifting you up so your back was pressed against his now damp shirt. The quick movement had you falling limp into his arm as he held you. Jake rested his cheek against your shoulder and as his own orgasm swept over him, you felt his teeth dig into your flesh, muffling a deep groan from him as he spilled deep inside of you.

The two of you stood there, both of you completely spent while you tried to catch your breath. You could feel the fabric of your clothes clinging to each other’s skin as sweat covered both of your bodies. 

Jake held you tightly against him, pulling in deep shaky breaths, trying to maintain his composure. You heard him take one final deep breath and pull his face off of your shoulder. He looked forward and met your reflection in the mirror and you saw the tops of his cheeks grow red.

He cleared his throat, and released his hold on you, taking a step back as he slowly pulled out of you. He reached back, running a hand through his damp hair, sweeping away the strands that clung to his face. 

Jake bent down, grabbing his pants, and pulling them up while fastening his belt back into place. You did the same, pulling your panties back up and then moving your skirt back down and running a hand over it to smoothen the fabric. 

You turned your body around, resting your back against the counter while you watched him. It was weird now…awkward. You both were usually quick to say something to push each other's buttons to get each other riled up but now it was like the two of you were shy with each other. 

You glanced over at him, seeing him smooth out his own shirt that clung to him and grab the elastic band off of his wrist and pull his hair into a bun. His eyes caught yours and you watched him give you a soft smile. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but he shook his head and stepped forward. The same devilish smirk spread across his face as he closed the distance between you. He placed his hands on the tops of your hips and looked longingly into your eyes. 

“You know for the record…I still hate you,” Jake said, smiling at you. You let out a laugh and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

“Good, because I hate you too,” you said with a smile and watched as he closed the distance and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away and grinned before glancing down to look at the front of your shirt. 

“Sorry about your shirt,” Jake mumbled, flicking his eyes back up to yours. You let out a laugh, throwing your head back. 

“I’m sure you are,” you said, eyeing him. Jake chuckled and released his hold on you. You watched as he turned to the door, grasping the knob in his hand. He was about to turn it when he stopped and turned back around. 

“I’ll see you out there…right?” Jake said, peering over his shoulder. 

“Yes, I guess you will,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to put on your most serious face. 

“Good but remember to stay mean. Still need to hear that filthy little mouth of yours. Can't let anyone suspect ya know?” Jake said, smirking.

“Don’t worry, I’m rather good with my mouth,” you said, smirking at him. 

“Mmm, don’t I know it,” Jake said, giving you a wink before twisting the knob of the door to see himself out. You know this so-called ‘hate’ was just a bullshit excuse for the true feelings the two of you had built. All it took was some digging and a final cut to unleash the true reality of what was hidden just below the surface. 

Tag list:

@iliana-gvf @thunderstomp-and-tequila @bathingin-thelight @darianh07 @gretas-sweat @withlovegvf @dannyshair-blog-blog

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #gretavanfleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf smut #jake x reader #jake gvf #peaceful army

[chronically-ghosted]

Third Base.

rating: 18+, explicit

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 9K

summary: after the last session went awry, you and max don't know how to be around each other. two months after a blow out fight, max catches you in the parking lot and decides it's time to talk.

warnings: angst, is that plot i smell? period sex (oral), impossible positions but he has super strength and doesn't breathe so shut up, semi-public sex, car sex, some briefly scary imagery (it's a dream), monsterfucking, mentions of a car accident and injuries related, arguing, max being a dick

a/n: MASSIVE shoutout to @jupiter-soups , @beardedjoel , @gasolinerainbowpuddles , @covetyou and @huffle-punk for giving me their blessing to do a vampire + period sex fic. The discord ladies really came in clutch here 👌i hope this makes you as horny as that thread made me

i wanted to get this out by halloween, but that didn't fucking happen so here's a fic that mentions halloween as a plot device. fun fact: orgasms can bring on your period early so no it’s not your 🐈 that’s sore it’s your uterus lining shuffling off

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🤍Masterlist

You’re warm. Everything is warm. You’ve sunk beneath a fresh layer of volcanic ash, heartbeat pulsing with the lazy roll of molten lava at the heart of the mountain. Hands outstretched, you can’t find the edge of the mattress because there isn’t one. 

There is only warmth and rocking, gentle waves.

There is only this.

There is only him. 

Shoulders hunched between your legs, his tongue is a hard muscle, leverage against which you grind and shift and when you find that spot together, you throb in sync with the rush of blood to your cunt and sink a little deeper into the endless sheets that flutter against your skin like paper in the wind. 

Your lips form the shape of his name but in the sigh that leaves your mouth, you can’t be sure if you called out to him or if everything coherent had been swallowed up in a cry of listless pleasure. But he responds all the same. The vibrations in his chest between your thighs, his tongue wrapped around your clit, nearly tear you over the edge that very second – you cry out, not wanting this to end, not wanting to leave this hearth of him, folded over you as if you were made of fine ceramic and he was a fiery kiln. You arch, your release dangerously close, and his grip around your thighs tightens, tightens, pulling you deeper down into his face, his nose, that wicked, wicked tongue, and his grip tightens and it hurts. His fingers, his nails, pinch down into you, your flesh swells between his knuckles as if he’s going to tear straight through your skin, your muscles, your bones – and you yelp. 

It’s not fun any more.

You struggle, but he’s on you too tight, a riptide sucking you under. You try and kick him off, push him off with your hands but it’s no use.

Everything is cold and metal and it hurts and you’re begging him to let you go, let you live, when those fangs, as sharp and jagged as steak knives, suddenly embed themselves in your thigh. Your hips jerk with the force of it, with the agony as he slices your femoral artery and drinks deep. And then he bites your other thigh, tearing through your flesh, turning the cradle of your thighs into dripping viscera. 

Max, you think you beg, the fight all but drained out of you as your blood flows freely from between his fingers, from the gashes in your thighs, your throat, your wrists. He’s torn out chunks of you and swallowed them whole. 

Max.

The creature lifts its head, its eyes blood-red, pupils black as the darkest night, mouth twisted and wrenched open screaming, four glistening bone-white fangs, dripping blood, your blood, your life, your flesh. Begging won’t save you now. 

It snarls, the sound pinching off like a dying woman’s scream, inch-long talons tearing up your hips as it crawls forward, crawls into your throat and just before it delivers the killing bite, it whispers:

You asked for this.

The first thing you see when you jerk out of the nightmare is the crease of your pillow, looking up at it from the plush of your mattress. Your cheek smushed into your blue sheets, duvet tangled between your legs, the horror of the nightmare still pressed into the corners of your brain like a tacky, sticky film, you can’t quite understand what you’re looking at. The adrenaline is fast in your blood, heart pounding, your unconscious mind unable to determine what is real and what is not, safety or danger, and your fingers dig into your sleep shorts, arms tucked up underneath you. You blink twice, the headache from yesterday returning, your swollen, black eye almost immediately painful, and then you realize the pounding you hear is not your final heartbeats, but someone at your door. 

That buzzing is not the last conscious thoughts in your head fizzling out, but your phone on silent, humming incessantly. Groaning from the pins and needles that shoot up your arm after having slept on it all night, you flop onto your back, your other wrist twinging painfully in its flesh-colored wrap, as you crawl to the edge of your bed – which is thankfully in sight. You can’t pick up your phone with your dead-fish arm and your twisted wrist so you answer the call without looking and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” 

“Why aren’t you at work?” His voice is clipped, short, pissed. As if he was your actual boss and not the sales manager, while you worked in legal. After the dream, it immediately sets you on edge. Every major part of you is sore and hurts, either from the accident, or sleeping so hard you figured you briefly went into a coma. 

“What’s it matter to you? I called my department and told them I’d be out.”

“Yeah, and I had to find out from Tim.” The pounding from down the hall gets louder and suddenly you connect the two. It should be illegal to be this furious minutes after waking up. “Open the door,” he snaps into the silence over the phone. 

“Are you fucking serious right now? You’re at my apartment?”

“Yes, now open the fucking door.” 

You chew your lip because you genuinely do not want to see him right now. There’s a reason you called Tim to pick you up after someone T-boned the back of your car yesterday evening and the plausible excuse is that he lives in the same apartment complex as you. 

“Open the door right now or I swear –,”

“Alright, jesus. Gimme a fuckin’ –,”

You shrug on your cardigan, hissing as you bend your shoulder. 

“What was that?” You swear his voice takes on an edge, catching on something and tearing just enough to let something vulnerable bleed through. 

“It’s nothing – I –,” you twist your other shoulder into the arm of the cardigan, the phone pinched up against your ear. “Jesus – okay, fuck this, just stay there and don’t break down my door.”

You pound the red button with your thumb and launch your phone onto your bed before you limp lightly down the hall, the weight on your right ankle just a little less than on your left. It’s half a second difference in your regular gait, but something tells you he’ll know.

He’s across your threshold before you have the door fully open, glaring around your dark apartment as if it personally had a hand in keeping him outside in the hallway. There’s something frenetic in the way he moves, in the way he stands, even if he is completely still. It’s the same sort of wired energy that is usually reserved for end-of-quarter deadlines, isolated to sustained knee bouncing or wearing out the spring of a pen with one too many clicks. Max is . . . uneasy.

“Well?” He rounds on you, hands on his hips, as if you’d just been caught pilfering through the company supply cabinet for ink cartridges to sniff and get high. You’d never been on the receiving end of Max’s bad temper before – in fact, you’d been the solution to it for quite some time now. You’d seen him go off on a vendor that screwed up an order or chew out the competition, but not this. Not that tense jaw that can’t find a place to settle, eyes narrowed in warning. Don’t test me. 

“Well, what?” Maybe you should have changed out of your pastel blue pajamas before coming to face your co-worker/occasional sex-fiend/boyfriend(?) but it’s too late now. You try to stand as tall as you can, arms crossed. 

“You wanna tell me why you weren’t at work today and I had to hear from Tim – fucking sandwich-eating, wormy-mustache, sword-dildo Tim – that you’d been in a goddamn car accident.”

“It was minor and he lives in my building,” you respond, chin high.

His eyebrows arch as his mouth twists indignantly. “So minor your car wasn’t drivable?”

Point 1 for Max. You bristle, fighting the heat on your cheeks. “It was just easier to call him. He picked me up, dropped me off with some painkillers and some juice, and left. I didn’t fuck him if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

He picks up on a thread you didn’t expect him to follow. “He gave you . . . juice?” 

“Yes. His sister is a nurse and it was something about the adrenaline and sugar in orange juice – and I don’t know – it was comforting, at the time.”

“Comforting?” He asks like it’s a foreign concept. Something alien and unnatural. “What, like he gave you a hug or something?”

Your stomach turns on something sour. “Sure, Max, yeah. He could see I was upset and he did the terrible, horrible thing of giving me a hug when he saw I was in pain.”

“So was it a minor accident or not?” He takes a step forward and you remember how much bigger he is than you. How wide his hands are. “Fuck, can you turn on a light? I’m fucking straining to see anything.”

The migraine had set in moments after you closed the door behind Tim and like a creature retreating to lick their wounds, you shut off every single light in your apartment and close the blinds tight. You stick a comment about vampire sight up between your teeth and switch on the lamp by your couch. 

You catch a glimpse of that pretty face cut with sharp, angry lines and flared nostrils, before it flickers, fades out when he spots the black eye, the wrist splint you forget to hide with your sleeve before it’s too late, the way you hold your weight off your sensitive ankle. 

For some reason, you can’t look him in the eyes, so you watch as the taut line of his shoulders deflates, his wide hands with his thick fingers slide bonelessly off his hips, how he stands up right instead of that aggressive forward lean, reserved only for what you thought he saw as enemies.

He swallows whatever was sitting behind his teeth and stares.

Where he had been even temporarily vulnerable with you days ago, it’s your turn to shy away, hiding your tender spots. 

Guilt washes up to your eyeballs the longer he stares silently, taking in every bruise and bump. You hate the fact you feel guilty, and you hate that you don’t know where the guilt comes from or why it sits so heavy in your chest. 

The truth of the matter is you did think about calling him. In fact, he was the first name you pulled up on your now cracked phone, but sitting on a curb outside of a gas station as a tow truck came to take your car away, you scrolled down past him. 

The truth of the matter is Max hasn’t been back in your apartment since the night you went to second base and he bit you on your tit. In fact, he’s been avoiding you in the office for days now. When he wouldn’t meet your eyes over the coffee machine, it became easier and easier to wonder if this was the same man who set out all those candles for you, who put down all of those insane precautions to keep himself from going too far, who couldn’t help but vibrate with pleasure as he drank from you. First base had gone over without a hitch, but something went wrong that night and he’d sooner let the relationship fizzle out than talk about it. 

The following shower that night had been awkward and uncomfortable, too close and the steam too hot. He left shortly there after, only a handful of mumbled words exchanged, and he hadn’t come back.

So, maybe, sitting there, your head aching, your wrist pinching, you wanted him to feel as abandoned as you had.

“I’m a little . . . banged up, alright?” Your fingertips brush the edges of the Ace bandage around your palm when your fingers curl and uncurl, your head tilted just off center as if you could hide the swelling from him. “Nothing that a few days of rest can’t fix, so you really didn’t need to come over.”

“Rest and juice, right?” The look in his eyes is raw, rubbed down into nothingness, blackness, totality. 

“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, “it wasn’t like that and you fucking know it.” 

His head tilts as if considering your words, or considering something else, and by the time you open your eyes in a millisecond blink, he’s got your chin in his palm, his fingers curled up your cheek, thumb firmly pressed into your jaw. Dark eyes roving, he’s inspecting every cut, every bruise, every hair out of place. 

Irate at the hot flush low in your stomach at the way he grips you, you push against his chest, yowling out some disgruntled noise, but that only makes him squeeze you tighter. He doesn’t even look you in the eye. 

“I’ve healed much worse than this,” he murmurs, breath smelling deliciously of mint and not a hint of anything metallic. “Especially on you.” 

His thumb brushes dangerously close to the rim of your purple and green eye and while even the slightest touch stings, it’s nothing compared to the bite of pain his words and soft tone inflict. You give him one more good shove and he backs off, thumb swiping briefly against your chin. His mouth is a straight line when he finally meets your glare. 

“I didn’t call you because I didn’t think you gave a shit, Max.” You’ve been in tense business negotiations all your adult life so standing your ground and not crying is something that has become second nature to you. And yet, your eyes grow hot and tight all the same. You’re not crying, but your body is remembering how good it feels to do so. “Ever since that night, you’ve been acting like I’m diseased or something. You made it pretty clear we’re not actually dating, so I called Tim because it was the path of least resistance. I was tired and I hurt and I didn’t want anything complicated. And I didn’t tell you because quite frankly I didn’t think you’d notice I wasn’t there unless the breeze blew the wrong way and your dick got hard.” Every unanswered text and call straight to voicemail over the last two weeks flashes in your mind and your wrist twinges painfully as you gesture to your bedroom. “Because that’s what this is, right? Just a good fuck? A good time? For the record, you didn’t ruin that lingerie set. I put it on cold in the washer and the blood came right out, okay? Everything is totally fucking fine.”

You don’t realize how loud you’d gotten until your apartment rings with silence. It is the absence of noise, of only one set of lungs in use, that makes it so loud. 

Max’s jaw still hasn’t found a place to settle, to calm himself. He purses his lips as his bottom teeth grind against the top. His eyes are unreadable, black coals in his head, instead of that gooey warmth you swear you’ve only seen in your direction. He swallows once before opening his mouth.

“So then, do you want me to fix you? Just so we can get back to fucking and I can get what I came here for.”

Soft. Quiet. A rattlesnake you don’t see coming until its fangs are in your foot, pumping you full of poison. 

“Get the fuck out of my house. Right now. Leave.”

As if mocking you, he walks out the front door. He could be out and gone before you draw your next breath, but he chooses to click his fucking Armani leather shoes across your tile, open the door – the knob demonstrably small in his massive hand – and slam shut so hard the painting on the wall shudders. 

If the shower had been a separation by omission, this had been the real thing.

The heat behind your eyes becomes unbearable, sharp, painful as you begin to choke on everything you didn’t say to him lodged in your throat. Vision blurry, you yank your curtains close and flip the light switch, plunging the apartment back into darkness. 

It’s not until you’re curled up on your side in bed, duvet over your head, that the tears come. They’re silent, you’ve only ever known how to cry silently, but they fall fast, dripping off your nose. You squeeze your eyes shut and your black eye throbs, a thunderbolt in a storm. You cry out and touching it makes it worse and you cry because it hurts and you cry because you’re pathetic and you cry because, worst of all, you didn’t make Max realize what a fucking asshole he is.

It’s not until you wake up at two in the morning, suddenly and without a descent, that you realize Max walked into your apartment without a jacket on, his sleeves rolled up and his tie loose. As if he had heard the news and immediately left the office to come to you.

Days pass. And days turn into weeks. It’s two months later and you haven’t heard a word from him.

Everyone at the office has been very considerate about your injuries – holding doors for you as you hobbled through them, your team taking on more client-facing calls while your eye healed, typing up the last bits of the reports when your wrist started to ache. For a company that employed literal hell-spawn, you’d been rather touched by the kindness everyone showed you. 

Even Tim. Who offered, after clarifying he definitely wasn’t hitting on you (if only because he feared the legal repercussions you could bring down on him like a smiting hammer) to drive you home while your car got fixed. Those nights when Evan sat in the back because they were headed to a DnD session afterwards were always a little awkward. 

Everyone helped out, except one person. A significant person that made your chest twinge every time you saw his door close seconds after you came into the breakroom. You could hear your sister’s scolding voice now: never fuck where you eat.

For sleeping with a vampire, you supposed that statement was doubly true. 

As the world turned towards winter, night came early and stayed longer, eager for mischief. The air grew thin, cold, trees sagging, turning brown, and molting. There’s a smell to the air that usually excites you, usually makes you smile and yearn for your couch and a long movie night. But not this time.

Halloween falls on a Monday this year and given the majority of its workforce still remember when it was called Samhain, it’s a company holiday. Ahead of a long weekend, this late, the office is empty. With nothing (and no one) to greet you at home, you stay until it could be officially counted as pathetic to keep working in an empty and dark building, before powering down your laptop, gathering your things for what you foresee as just a long working weekend, and locking your office for the night. 

Paper bats hung from the ceiling, with orange and black table clothes thrown over tables in the break room. Cardboard witches and zombies grinned wickedly from the dark corners, woolen webs with freakishly large spiders hiding near the ceiling. The office manager, Carla, has really outdone herself this year, you think, as you unplug the rows of purple and orange lights looping around the ceiling tiles. With your leftover lasagna from Amanda (who insisted you still needed someone to make you dinner), you flick off any remaining lights, the red exit signs guiding you out in the dark. 

His office door is open, not unheard of but not common. 

The room is dark, so maybe he left early and just forgot to lock up. Your chest tightens at the thought that he ran out of there in a hurry because he was eager to meet up with someone, a pretty someone who looked great in a set of heels and had a fang fetish. You swallow; one of a dozen scenarios you’ve tortured yourself with over the past few weeks, particularly painful. 

It’s strange, to go on and live your life when there has been a fundamental and irrevocable change, when there is nothing where there once was something – an outline almost visible as though the air itself was trying desperately to remember, to hold on. 

Your eyes grow hot and you blame it on season allergies when you wipe your eyes with your palm. You blame it on the steady headache you’ve had all day. You blame it on the irritability that’s been rubbing you the wrong way for days now. You blame it on the lack of sleep you can never seem to get enough of. Fuck, is it possible to drink yourself into a wine coma? You’d really love to find out. 

Without the sun, the wind is particularly chilling, curling over the collar of your jacket and pinching the back of your neck. Your feet ache, the plastic holding the lasagna is starting to sweat, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got a run in your nylons. Fighting back a shiver, you unlock your car and toss everything into the passenger’s seat when you hear your name. 

For a fraction of a second, you think it’s the wind. That your mind has been circling its own loneliness for so long, it’s taking pity on your pathetic ass and imagining comfort out of thin air. But you hear it again, stilling with one foot in your car, hand on the door. Your name – quiet, reserved, purposeful. 

So unlike him. 

“Can we talk?”

Just get in the car. Just get in, turn it on, and drive. Your fingers bite into the cold metal. 

“Max, it’s late and I’m exhausted –,” 

“Then I’ll make it quick.” 

His long coat flutters around his knees in the uneasy breeze, his hands in his pockets. You can’t really see his face in the shadows between the streetlights. 

You haven’t moved. One foot on the floor of your car, hand on the door. He sighs and tugs at the tie around his neck. You wait.

“You said you’d be quick –,”

His jaw ticks, finds your gaze for the first time. “It’s fucking freezing out – can I at least sit in the car?”

“There’s lasagna.” Max had the unique capacity to trigger your most basic instincts seemingly out of nowhere. Where did he get off demanding anything? You want to stomp your foot and stick your tongue out. “I mean, you have to move the lasagna . . . and some other stuff.”  

Briefly thankful for the dark shadows to hide your childish blush, you plop into the car seat without looking back at him. His figure moves around the car and you make the express decision to make him deal with all your shit in the passenger's seat. But to your enormous surprise (and swelling embarrassment), he gathers your briefcase, the plastic container, and your empty coffee mug without comment and puts them gently in the backseat – without flinging them or sighing like he just moved mountains. 

Your fingers curl over the stiff steering wheel as he folds his long legs into the car, fighting with his jacket, and grunting a bit when his knees press up against the dashboard. The click as his seat slides backwards to make room is painfully audible. 

The overhead light in your car fades long before either of you say anything. 

“Max, it’s cold and I wanna go home–,”

“Okay, okay, sorry – fuck –,” he twists the coat tighter around his chest, sliding low in his seat like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Okay. It’s just . . . this isn’t easy and I don’t –,” 

“You don’t what?” You snap, rounding on him, patience finally running out. “You don’t know how to apologize for being a fucking asshole?” 

“No – I mean, yeah, but –,” 

“So you admit it! You were being a shit and you know it!” 

“It’s not like it’s that fucking simple–,” 

“Yeah, it is. It really is, Max. You got scared the last time we were together and you took it out on me the first chance you got.” 

He shoves his palms into his eyes. “Okay, yes, I was scared, but not then. I mean, it freaked me out a little bit, but . . . it wasn’t the bite that got to me.” 

“Yeah? Then what was?” 

He huffs, lowering his hands slowly, his shoulders curving in as his hands drop into his lap. “You told Tim and not me. And,” he adds quickly at your rapidly reddening face, “and for about fifteen minutes, I didn’t know if you were alive or not. I just heard ‘not at work’ and ‘car accident’ and I assumed the worst . . . and because of the way I’ve treated this relationship, you didn’t think about calling me just to let me know you were okay. And . . . I fucked up.” 

You blink. Slowly, then several times rapidly. “You were scared that you lost me.” 

That pained grimace deepens and he scowls at you like you called his Tonka Toy Truck stupid. 

“Don’t say it like that. It makes me sound pathetic.” 

You scowl back. “Would it kill you to be genuine for two seconds? It’s okay to have feelings. Even ones about me.” 

“Of course I have feelings for you,” he rolls his eyes and you want to bite him on his finger. “Why would I put us both through the fucking ringer just so I can bite you if I didn’t care about you?”

“So then if you can easily admit that you have feelings for me, why were you so fucking awkward that last time? Why didn’t you answer your phone? Why were you so fucking mean to me at my apartment?”

“Because I don’t wanna keep this a secret anymore!” 

Your car feels abnormally cramped as all the air is sucked out with a vacuum. But, as a vampire, maybe that’s not a problem for him. 

Or maybe if he stops, he’ll never be able to get it all out. 

His eyes are wide, his broad shoulders pressed up against the door, as if he is trying to escape the confines of the car, or look at you straight on. 

“I want to be the one you call when there’s a problem, not fucking Tim. I want you to know I’d never, ever hurt you, no matter how blood drunk I was. I want . . . I want to stay overnight at your apartment and I want . . .” he trails off, swallowing over the words that are seemingly choking him. “I want to be your . . .”

He murmurs something and you assume you didn’t hear him because you are simply too shocked.

“What?”

Max groans and puts his hands over his face as if he is being physically tortured. 

“I wanna be your boyfriend. In public. At work. All the time. I wanna . . . I wanna tell people I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend.” He makes a face and sticks his tongue out, grimacing. “And I wanna fucking graduate kindergarten apparently. Get married on the blacktop. Blegh.”  

As he wrestles with the apparently juvenile terms, you fall into speechlessness. There’s a dozen emotions flashing through you like fire embers: relief, anger, embarrassment, curiosity, joy, sadness –

Desire.

Watching his tongue roll around in his mouth, even comically, reminds you exactly why you entered into this relationship/not relationship with him in the first place. 

Mouth finally closing, he lifts his gaze to you, chin tilted down, and you can almost imagine the ears turned back and low on his head.

“And I know that’s not what you want. I didn’t want to say anything but then it all just fucking snowballed, and it’s been killing me not being around you, so when I saw you leave tonight, I thought–,”

“Why do you think that’s not what I want?” Your heart rises, just a bit, in your chest, and you feel it tap against your breastbone. “Why wouldn’t I want to go public?”

Max watches you cautiously, eyebrows drawn down. “HR nightmare for one. But in the beginning, since we didn’t, you know, go public then, I just figured . . . Figured you’d want to end it before calling me your boyfriend.”

“But you didn’t want that either, in the beginning, right?”

He nods, suspicious.

“But things changed for you. And . . . you know . . . things might have changed for me too.”

God, maybe your mom can take pictures of you two together at the kindergarten graduation ceremony. Why is this so fucking hard to talk about? 

Max blinks at you, his turn to be struck silent. 

“So, theoretically, if I stop being an asshole and you call me for all your rides home, I can call you my girlfriend to Tim’s stupid face?” 

“If you’re ready to deal with the HR nightmare,” you say, meaning that and a handful of other things. If you really want to deal with all of that for me.

You swear Max’s eyes twinkle gold for a second. 

“Um, yeah. I mean, I am if you are.”

“I am if you are.”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.” 

A grin sparks across his face, the tension leaving his jaw. Joy crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

“Then I wanna kiss you first.”

Your heart is now knocking between your breastbone and your throat. You nod, swallowing nerves. 

“Finally, something we agree on.” 

For the first time in your memory, Max moves slow, hesitantly, but encouraged by the smirk on your lips. The car still feels small, but now in the best way possible. He leans forward, the console in the middle squeaking as you press your forearm against it, his hand sinking into your hair, nails against your scalp. 

You smell mint, coffee, and finally, something coppery. 

You lick your lip a second before his slot against yours. 

It’s chaste, as chaste as kissing Max Phillips can be. A thoughtful moment of rediscovery, of possibility, of relieved familiarity. He knows just how to turn his head, to press into you, to make you sigh into his mouth.

“Am I forgiven?” He teases, his voice soft and quiet, eyes half open as they take in every pore and feature of your face.

Desire, buttery and warm, melts into sticky arousal between your thighs. The fingers on his chest dig in as you grasp at the material to drag him closer. 

“I think you owe me a base, slugger.”

Max’s eyes widen. “Here? Now?”

“I’m pretty sure the office building is locked up, so unless you have another suggestion–,” 

He groans, hands immediately tugging around your knees to pull you literally out of your seat and into his lap. He grinds your hips down against him, as if he couldn’t help it, and you gasp, embarrassingly turned on from his hands on your hips and his sudden show of strength. That goddamn vampire strength. 

“I missed you so much, you fucking freak,” he mouths against your cheek, his hand squeezing your thigh once before curling around your neck and yanking you into his hot mouth. Your muffled noise comes across as protest and surprise, but he keeps you pinned, his lips and teeth and tongue fighting over themselves to get to your skin first.  “I’ll give you any base you fucking want, but I wanna neck in this car for a bit.”

You nod, quelling the flush of heat between your thighs and the subsequent whimper by burying your hands under his jacket, under his blazer, and tugging his shirt out from his waistband. His skin is cold, despite three layers of clothing and a heated seat. 

Max grunts as you palm his stomach, muscles tightening, and he dips his mouth to your ear, your cheek, your neck. The brush of teeth against your hammering pulse point carries only the threat of pain. His tongue circles your vein like a bullseye. 

His fingers knotted in your hair, Max rolls his hips once, breaking off the kiss to watch the shiver go through you and end in a subtle moan that has you knocking your forehead into his shoulder. 

He mouths your ear, that soft skin just below it, hands rubbing up your hips and inching your skirt up your thighs. 

“Are you sure you want it here?” His words are as gentle as his lips — which is to say not at all. He roughly captures your mouth again before you can answer and sucks your bottom lip between his teeth as if he can bleed the answer from you.

He’s kissing you so hard, your back nudges the dashboard. You respond in retaliation; swirl his tongue with yours like a goddamn preview, hands low on his groin as you push him back. 

“Yes,” you murmur against his mouth. “Yes, Max, please. Here.”

“Then we’re moving the fucking lasagna again.” 

He twists you as he opens the car door, and immediately the wet patch between your thighs is slapped by the cold air. You stumble, shuddering, your nipples tightening in the chilly air. But he’s already knocking everything on the back seat to the floor. Grabbing you and guiding you by your hips to lay back against the pleather and spreading your knees with the brush of his thumbs, his eyes darken as if he can see through your skirt and nylons. Like he can hear your cunt throb for him.

He hovers over you, his Armani fucking shoes hanging off the seat as he kneels on the seat, seemingly struck silent by the sight of you, even with all your clothes on. 

“Max,” you say against the swelling in your chest, “you can bite my calf if biting near my pussy is too much.”

Just the mention of that wet, warm place he is so ridiculously fond of has drawn his attention back from his distant thoughts. 

“So I can’t eat your pussy after I eat your pussy?”

“If you think you can handle it,” you nudge at his elbow with your toes, “go for it.”

Over his shoulder, you can see the wind tug on his jacket, hear it ghost over the treetops, but with his thick, broad body over you, you feel nothing but warm. Max unbuttons his collar and slides his already loose tie from around his neck. He tickles your nose with it before dropping it onto the floor. 

“Leaving this within reach in case you need to scream into something, okay?”

You roll your eyes, flushed hot at the idea that you’re about to have semi-public sex. “You’ve been gone for a while. Maybe you’ve lost your touch.”

Something in his eyes grows dark, sharp, and his chin tilts just slightly. 

“I guess you’ll have to judge that for yourself.” He pushes up your shirt to your throat, exposing your white linen bra (that’s what you get for assuming your sex life was over) and your twitching stomach to his hot, wandering gaze. Before you can pretend to protest being cold, he drops his mouth to the swell of your breast and teases your nipple with his teeth. “You tell me if I’ve lost my touch.”

Immediately, a full body shiver radiates from where his lips suck and you stretch out against the leather, eyes fluttering open and shut. He hasn’t earned a moan yet, a fact he seems acutely aware of when his eyes flick up to watch your face as he palms your other breast. He digs one finger over the cup, curling over the material and grazing your nipple with his nail, when you shake your head. 

“Too public,” you breathe, as you wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him against you because you want to feel how much this affects him too. “Someone could see.”

“But you want me to eat you out? That’s not too public?” He grins as he tucks his face into your neck, lazily rolling his hips because he knows that’s exactly what you want. 

“Just stick your head up my skirt.”

He stills, teeth ghosting your skin. “Yeah?”

You feel him twitch against your thigh and you have to remind yourself not to ask him to full out fuck you in the backseat of your car. You nod, your chin ruffling his hair. His grip on your ribcage tightens, an errant thumb swiping the underside of your breast, as he lets out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan.

“Have I told you you’re a fucking freak and how much I love it?”

Your toes curl in your shoes, heart in your ears, and blood hot under your skin. Just as he moves to shuffle back, you cup the back of his neck, turning your teeth and lips to his ear, the hairs there as soft as peach fuzz.

“No. I’m a monsterfucker.”

The sound that escapes him is no longer human, deep, jagged, a warning cry to hunted prey, and you feel just a prick of fangs against your neck. Immediately that rush of endorphins bows your back, a Pavlovian response to be fucked so good over and over again, and you keen into his chest. 

“Max, baby, please–,”

Your cunt actually aches. 

Max shoves himself away from you, yanking off his coat and suit jacket in one motion, and he actually lets them fall to the concrete parking lot. Before his sleeve is all the way out, he curls over you, one hand shoving up your skirt, and the other snagging the front of your nylons. His grip pinches the coarse hairs and your cunt involuntarily clenches as he peels the nylons over your hips and your knees with one hand. To get them completely off, you’d have to stretch out your legs, so he shoves your nylons to your ankles, before grabbing the backs of your thighs and thrusting you up the seat. Your head knocks against the car door, but he doesn’t seem to care – and neither do you. 

The back seat of your ford is not meant for two people, much less two people hellbent on oral sex. And yet . . .

He shoves one knee under your low spine, lifting your hips up and you acquiesce – tightening your muscles to keep the position that nearly folds you in half, but he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to breathe, honey,” he purrs into your thigh and takes your knee around the back of his head, and then does the same to the other. The height gives you enough leverage to balance against the roof of the car, giving your weight onto his shoulders, and your cunt exactly where he wants it. 

“That��s it, pretty girl. Now, let me eat.” He sticks out his tongue, flat against his chin. 

He clutches your hips and tugs you closer, right into his waiting muscle. 

Your spine arches even further off the seat when he takes advantage of the position and licks you from the curve of your ass to your clit. He catches the dripping wetness in his mouth, using it to massage that bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, his fingers firm against your hip. Any more pressure and he’ll bruise you. Any more after that and he’ll crush your hipbones. 

Your hips thrust weakly, thighs squeezing his head, as he forcibly reminds you that he hadn’t lost his touch, with an additional reminder that no one else touches you like he does. No one. Not a living soul or otherwise.

A side lick to your clit and you bite your lip, eyes shut, your hands above your head to find leverage. You push back against him and he groans into your pussy, aquiline nose breathing harshly into your damp curls. 

“Fuck, Max – yes, right there – oh god –,”

That soft teasing feeling that makes your hips cant forward with a sudden desperate need expands with every swipe of your tongue. 

He’s never going to let you live it down if you come this fast. 

“M-Max,” 

He opens his jaw more, dropping his mouth to your exposed hole and licking so deep inside with a curled tongue, your thighs start to shake. You gasp, head lifting forward before dropping back, as he fucks you with his tongue. You want to ride his face. 

And then Max lets out a grunt, shifting underneath you, his gaze flicking up to yours. With a hand on your knee as he practically hangs you upside down, he pulls back.

“You taste different.” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s said something coherent. “W-what?” 

He licks his lips, smeared with a wetness that makes the lower half of his face shine in the murky street lights. He licks you again as if to make sure. 

“Your taste . . . your cunt, it’s . . .”

Max’s eyes widen slightly like a wolf catching the scent of a deer. 

“Hold on, baby, I gotta try something.” 

Without warning, he plunges two fingers inside of you and sucks on your clit. He times his sucks with the rapid pump of his fingers and you’re at your peak in seconds. Your thighs shake, your cunt tightens, the sudden ascent overwhelming and intense, and with a tap against that spot inside you he’s forever marked as his own, you flatten against the seat, as everything inside you bursts, wet and bright, into his waiting mouth. His eyes flutter at the taste as it drips out of you, corners of his mouth smeared with your release. 

Max slowly slides his fingers out of you, watching you with apparent curiosity, pride evident in his eyes, and immediately your cunt aches, as if he had just given you three orgasms instead of one. There’s a low throb at the crux of your thighs and you groan, the pain only dull. 

But he doesn’t seem to notice. He nudges your thighs back from his ears, opening up you just a bit before he tucks his tongue into you again. The throb, alongside the still settling waves of your orgasm, wants you to push him away, but it’s not overstimulation. After being with Max for so long, you knew what overstimulation felt like and this is not it. 

“Max, c’mon, give me a second — fuck,”

Your eyes widen as you feel something wet trickle out of you and into his mouth, his eyes fixated on you. His grip around your waist pulls you closer to his chest. 

You watch each other the second you realize what’s just happened.

He leans back and there’s blood on his bottom lip.

Embarrassment scorches through your body and all the shitty feelings you had all week suddenly identify themselves as symptoms of PMS. Fuck. 

You immediately push on him, trying to de-tangle yourself from his shoulders, but he shakes his head.

“You wanted me to drink your blood, right? Third base? Well, now we don’t have to worry about where to bite you.” 

“But Max,” you struggle, working to sit up right but he won’t let your legs go. In fact, his grip turns rougher and you feel his fingers crush into your hip bones, his other hand pinning your knee to the back of his neck. “Max, c’mon, you don’t have to do that. This is silly and –,”

His wide palm smooths over your knee, like he’s trying to settle a frightened cat. 

“Who’s scared of genuine feelings now?” He murmurs. 

Only Max Phillips can go soft and sweet with your cunt inches from his face. Your apparently bleeding cunt. 

His hand moves from your knee, down your thigh and over your hip, before making the reverse trail, just as slow, just as comforting, while his gaze never leaves yours. You swallow something harsh in your throat, as your lower pelvis starts to ache. 

“The last thing I want is to hurt you, but I’ve heard that orgasms can actually help with cramps.” Max says softly. This isn’t a ploy to get (further) into your pants. He’s being genuinely – really, seriously, genuine. Your heart beats just as hard as the cramps as they settle. 

“What woman told you that?” 

Max huffs out a laugh, turning his head to nuzzle your thigh. “I was lonely without you and had to make do . . . so I befriended Carla and her gang.”

“The office manager?” You gape at him.

“They all tried to set me up with their daughters,” he chuckles, his hands still roaming over your body. He adjusts his knee so you have something to lean into. “So, pretty harmless. But they are also some of the most incorrigible gossip hounds I’ve ever known.” 

“They didn’t mind setting their daughters up with a vampire?”

“Not all of them are human, honey.” His eyes roll up your chest to your face. “And the ones that are were practically begging me to turn them.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, baby, I didn’t.” He shifts again, tugging you further over his shoulders, thumbs pressing gently into the backs of your knees. “We don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to.” 

“I know. It’s just . . .” You touch his thigh behind your back, needing to feel him to gather up the strength to say what you wanted to. “No one’s ever done this before.”

Max’s solid eyebrow jumps, lips pulling back into that wicked smirk. You swear you catch a glimpse of fang as he focuses back onto your cunt. 

“Well, you’re a monsterfucker and I’m your monster to fuck.” 

His mouth lowers, eyes on you, waiting and begging. You nod and he prods your clit with his tongue again, before licking anything and everything out of your hole.

Max doesn’t eat. He feeds. 

He grunts through his nose, trying to kneel as high as he is allowed in the cramped space. Finally, his gaze falls from you, eyes flickering shut, as the cramp in your pelvis digs deeper – you cry out – but then, it melts. The dull ache is spread across your hip bones until it is just warm, hot with your rushing blood. You moan, throwing your head back, and finally you dig your hands into his hair. 

As that warm bright coil begins to sink into your pelvis, Max groans between your legs. He pulls back just an inch, his lips a gooey red, to say:

“Pull on it if you need to hold yourself up.” 

Why you thought you could ever go back to a human lover after Max is a fuzzy, hazy notion at the edges of your mind when you dig your fingers into his hair, slightly longer than it’s been in the past, and pull yourself even closer to his mouth. 

In a truly impractical position, you feel his iron-hard cock poke your back, his hips stuttering, fucking empty air. His arm bands around your hips, your knees knocking against the ceiling, as he adjusts his grip. 

The inverse of blood has you going dizzy; blood rushing to your head as Max coaxes blood out of your cunt. 

And then you feel it. 

Behind your thighs, his chest vibrates and the air is filled with a delicious, primal sound. The sound of a beast being satiated, of a hunt gone well, a feeding that will sustain for a long, long while. Before you found it rather adorable, funny that a grown man like Max Phillips would purr when deeply satisfied, but now, it’s a hair-pin trigger to your demise. 

You cry out, loud and wet and wanting, as everything from your hips down starts to tighten up again. You lock your ankles together against his back, toes exposed to the night air, and you use the last of your waning strength in your thighs to lift yourself even further to him. Your hips thrust weakly and that grip around your hip bones seals you to his chest. 

Don’t fucking move. 

But it’s enough. Your inner thighs a gooey, hot mess, he prods his tongue deep, licking up every liquid that drips out of you, before coating your clit in your own mess. 

He sucks and you come. Long and loud. 

Your vision slowly begins to unblur, black spots fading, as he lowers you down, careful not to go too quick like he’s trying to not to wake someone from a light sleep. You can feel that sleep, that endless relaxation swelling over you as you go boneless while Max untangles you. 

Your eyes stay open long enough to see the smear of red across his lips before he wipes it away. The cramping in your pelvis has been reduced to a gentle throb. 

Gingerly, Max pulls your skirt down, hand arching your back so you don’t have to lift your hips as he adjusts you back into some modicum of decorum. He reaches back and snags his coat and jacket from the ground before tossing them into the passenger’s seat. With your feet in his lap, arm stretched out across the back of the seat you just debauched, he shuts the door and instantly the smell of his cologne permeates the air. 

You grin, wriggling down in the seat as far you can go like a housecat warmed by the sun. 

You sit in silence for a bit, content to just be, a welcome retreat for your breathing to go steady and his cock to soften. His hands brush against the heels of your bare feet. 

“You made me purr again,” he says with a grin. 

“There’s no way that’s the technical term for it, whatever it is,” you say teasingly as you watch him trace your ankles with his finger. “You should ask another vamp what you’re supposed to call it.”  

He chuckles, squeezing your foot once before glancing up at you. Whatever he sees in you, it makes his eyes go soft.

“You mean ask about the thing that only happens during the most intimate moments a vampire can experience? Yeah, sure, I’ll bring it up at the water cooler.” 

Satiated and warm and a little loopy from a truly record breaking orgasm, you stick your tongue out at him. 

“Fine. I’m going to tell people that you purr like a cute, innocent little kitten until you find a better term.”

He bends your knee so he can press his lips to the curve. 

“Just because you’re my girlfriend, don’t think I won’t turn you over and swat your bottom.” He nips at the hollow of the joint with flat teeth, opening up your legs to him again. You can feel that heavy wetness trickle down again, and you sit up, not embarrassed by your bleeding, but suddenly tired beyond belief. 

Max lets you move out of his lap as you curl a hand around his cheek. It’s a shame you only see that touch of vulnerability, the man without the quips and the teasing and the bravado, after a good fuck. But you think you might finally have it your way, sooner than you ever hoped. 

“Well if my boyfriend would drive us back to his place, maybe I could show how sorry I am for teasing you.” 

He studies you for a minute, a full minute that has you surprised he’s not roughly kissing you again.

“Sometimes, around the office, you’d smell different and I never knew what it was. I didn’t put enough thought into it to realize the pattern, but it makes sense now. And it makes sense why you were suddenly very busy during that week when I’d bootycall you.” 

You shrug, your neck suddenly very warm. “I dunno. I figured you wouldn’t want to be around me when I’m like that. Not to mention I dress in baggy clothes and wander around my apartment with a heating pad taped to my hips.

“Really? They’re that bad?”

You nod. “Women around the world rejoiced when working from home became an option. Video calls only show from the waist up.”

“Now that’s all I’m gonna be thinking about at the next all-hands meeting,” he grins and squeezes your knees. 

“I guess I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?” You shake your head. He nods, humming his affirmation, and kisses you. 

“Let’s go to your place,” he mutters against your lips. “There might be no place on earth less equipped to handle Shark Week than a male vampire’s bachelor pad.” 

“Shark Week?” You giggle. 

“Carla’s words, not mine. The Rising Red Tide. Code Red. Aunt Flo. And my personal favorite, communists in the fun house.”

Your giggle turns to a snort as you lean forward into him, laughing. His lips press affectionately into your hairline as you settle down. 

He moves to take your feet out of his lap when you gently take his elbow. 

“So we’re good, right? This wasn’t too much?” You are a little concerned by the total and complete lack of fang he showed, but entirely grateful.

As if reading your mind, he says, “the fangs only come out when I need to get through pesky flesh to feed. Your blood came out like a broken ice cream machine at McDonalds.”

You wrinkle your nose as he laughs and you push him out of the car. 

“That’s disgusting, Max.”

You snag the keys from your briefcase and toss them to him as he rounds the car and you crawl into the passenger’s seat. 

He drops in and immediately turns on your seat warmers. The gesture is subtle and thoughtful, things you thought Max Phillips never could be. 

“Speaking of which,” he holds onto the head of the seat as he backs out of the spot. “Carla also told me that ice cream is the cure to most cramps. So, with the lovely picture I just painted in your mind, do you want to go to McDonalds?”

As you look at him, shadows flitting across his face as he drives under streetlight after streetlight, his fingers that had been inside you minutes ago loosely holding the steering wheel, your heart twinges as you come to a certain realization.

This can’t last, right?

He’s only acting like this because he feels bad, feels guilty, right?

Max Phillips isn’t boyfriend material, despite his claims. 

As proven before, feelings can change. So you wonder how long until his feelings about you change again and he grows tired of you. Max Phillips is not a housecat. 

You swallow, glancing away before he has a chance to catch your eyes.

“Yeah, Max, let’s do it.” 

Prev | Next | Series Masterlist

#max phillips #max phillips x you #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x reader #max phillips x f!reader #blood sucking bastards #max phillips x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[gabessquishytum]

Started thinking about toys in an omegaverse, and came up with one for dreamling to use as both omegas; imagine a double-ended dildo, but at the center are two knots close together. If each omega takes in the dildo and pops a knot in, their crotches are flush together enough that it feels like it’s each their partner’s knot.

So now imagine Hob and Dream, two omegas, riding one of these together. It could be a pretty basic model, the knots always present and only just small enough to push into their holes without much issue, and then once in they can grind on the knots together until they come. There’s also a fancier model, where the knots can inflate either with a remote control or a timer; Hob and Dream can treat it as an ordinary double-ended dildo up until either the timer goes off or whichever of them holding the remote presses the button, at which point the knots will inflate and lock them together.

More of a word picture than a story this time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-🪽anon

Ooo I like this a lot. The omega x omega sex toy concept is so good, I kinda love the idea of the omegas being able to "fight" for the knot in the middle, both of them wanting their partner to get knotted first, but every time they thrust forward they ultimately get the rebound thrust... I think its a great idea for a toy.

I really like the idea of Hob really getting into the whole thing and talking dirty like the toy is really his knot, talking about how he's going to knot Dream so hard and fill him up. Maybe he pushes forward and properly mounts on top of Dream, driving the fake knot closer and closer... Maybe Dream cums just hearing Hob talk about it, and maybe Hob cums because Dream is squirming underneath him and the knot is starting to slip into both of them, tying them together...

When Dream finally comes back to full awareness he sees Hob licking the fake knot clean and sucking their combined cum off the toy. And then it's Dream’s turn to pounce and press Hob into the mattress. Maybe the knot also has a vibration setting that Dream is very interested to experiment on Hob with... before he tries it out himself 😏 it's endless fun tbh. And eventually they fall asleep, tied together by the swollen fake knot, both absolutely satisfied and very much looking forward to spending their next heats together, with the toy. Maybe they'll get a spare, just in case.

(You also asked about the other asks you sent getting lost - I am SO sorry, I honestly don't know what happened there. I feel like maybe they came in while I was really sick? I also had problems with not being able to edit my drafts, so there are honestly multiple things that could have occurred. I'm so sorry D: im going to dig through my inbox and see what i can find - i have 350 asks so they could very well be buried somewhere!)

#🪽 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Curtis and Honey Autumn This or That 🍂

Week Eight: Thrift Shop or Library

Summary- Short Drabble. Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Your school day is done and you are taking a few moments of peace and quiet to enjoy the library.

Warnings- Curtis is a menace.

A/N- LAST TWO DRABBLES! wow, this was so much fun to do and I loved these small snippets in their everyday life. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. And if you guys would like to see another series similar to this one in the future, let me know. (for any of my pairings, doesn't have to be Curtis and Honey) Again! Thank you so much for everything, you all are absolutely the best.

Curtis and Honey This or That Masterlist

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You hummed, happy with your little quiet bubble in the schools library. The kids were headed home at the end of the day and you had planned on taking the last bit of afternoon to jump start your next science course for your students . 

Curtis already knew you would be late getting out having told him as he was headed out the door for work. So you were soaking in the sensation of being around all these books, getting lost in the endless shelves available to you. Endless book spines were calling your name with titles, some familiar, some not. Once in a while, you would pull one out, cracking it open to browse its contents. Like an old friend greeting you once again.

From somewhere the libraries door opened and boots on the linoleum sounded, but you ignored it, not paying attention to a building that was always sounding like banging doors and shuffling feet. You had learned a long time ago to tune out such noises.

It wasn’t till you heard a gruff rumble and saw a large hand brace against the shelf by your head did you pay attention, twisting around to see Curtis right behind you. He must have showered cause he had changed between now and when you saw him leave that morning, his typical work uniform gone for a forest green button-up plaid and black jeans. “Didn’t even hear me say your name, full teacher mode? Next time I will have to call you Miss.Y/L/N.” He chuckled, a warm calloused hand coming up to cup your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. 

Fresh mint and the masculine taste of Curtis filled your senses, getting lost in the feeling of plush lips and slight roughness from his beard, you let your hands slide up his chest to wrap around his neck, sighing happily into his kiss.

Now this combo, browsing books and getting to feel Curtis step in that much closer, his hard body warm as it started to pin you in place, you could be okay with this. 

“I don’t think Miss Y/L/N is allowed this much PDA in the library.” You hissed against his mouth before taking another kiss. Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him in closer. His hips pressed tightly forward, pressing you back firmly against the bookshelf. 

“What about my Pretty Girl?” A tilt of his head had his mouth trailing your jawline, tone deep and graveled as he gave you all these little sensations that had you breathing heavier. “She want this PDA?” 

“Oh yes, very much so.” You sighed while letting your head tilt back to let him have more access to you. You felt his hands heavily trace your curves, flexing his hold where your body was a little extra till his hands landed on your ass, really grabbing a hold there and lifting you a bit. 

“You drive me fucking insane when you’re all in your teacher mode. Legs around me Honey.” He growled as he went back to your mouth, keeping you from being able to protest him lifting you. Your legs swung around his waist, ankles locking in the small of his back to keep him from letting you go. “Fuck you're so fucking perfect.” He groaned as he pressed against your core, making himself grind against your clit. Just the right amount of pressure made a soft cry rise up into his mouth, clutching at him. “That’s right Sweet Girl, feels good doesn’t it.” 

It did, you couldn’t help the little rock of your hips at the sensation as you continued kissing him, panting against each other heatedly. The library just melded away, like you completely forgot that anyone could walk in on you two making out and grinding against each other. 

“Again, please?” You whined needing it again and Curtis obliged while biting your shoulder, his hip pushing into you, now his erection throbbing against you while grinding against your clit. The rough fabric a barrier between the two of you was making you so damn sensitive, aching for more. 

You felt seconds away from going further when voices sounded nearby, some of your colleagues were discussing their days when you two froze. 

Curtis pressed his hand against your mouth to keep the squeak of surprise muffled while he started to ease back. 

You dropped your legs to land on your toes and loosened your hold, looking down between you two. “Curtis.” You whispered while he straightened your clothes out. “You gotta stay behind me.” 

He groaned, his gaze heated still. “Shit Honey, don’t put those images in my head.” He huffed while you stifled a giggle, turning him to face the bookshelf instead, hiding the bulge in his pants. You snapped out a book and flipped it open quickly. 

“Quick, pretend you're reading this.” You just handed him a copy of Matilda by Roald Dahl and that made him arch a brow at you, clearly stating he was doubting your plan. But he flipped it open and skimmed his eyes over the words, pretending it was fascinating. 

Seconds away, they were just about to go around the corner and stumble on you and Curtis. You angled yourself beside Curtis, grabbing your own book from the shelf and were ready to cut off the teachers. 

You felt Curtis next to you, nose in his book, with his shoulders shaking, trying not to burst into laughter. And then they crested the corner, you and him hiding your faces in books while trying not to laugh.

#curtis and honey #curtis everett and reader #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett and you #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x plus!sized reader #curtis everett and plus!sized reader #curtis everett au #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis and honey autumn this or that #chris evans characters #amber writes #sweater writes

[yourtouchismidas]

reading what the new yorker has to say about george and how he radiates utter stillness (very hot) has given me so many ideas, like imagine him with someone who has the absolute shortest fuse ever. idk maybe while he believes in quiet, stoic intimidation, girlie (a foot shorter than him) just gets into a bar fight. maybe she sees a couple of much older men getting a bit too comfy with young girls just trying to have a fun night and she's ready to throw hands. firm believer that george has to actually pick her up and take her away so she doesn't get arrested. also a firm believer of the fact that he finds it insanely attractive and shows it to her quite generously

(the possibilities are endless 😌)

you're drunk. its fucking great and you're having an amazing time. the music is loud. everyone is dancing. you're grinding on some girl you havent ever met, dont even know, and your boyfriend and his bandmates are all at the bar, sipping beers and laughing at you. with the exception of matty who is right there on the dancefloor with you, jumping around and pumping his fist.

ugh george. you love him. you love his face. his cheek bones. his smile when he laughs at you. you give him a cute little wave and he winks at you, barely moving apart from that. then you go back to dancing. god life is good.

you've lost the girl you were dancing with before but you dance with matty for a bit, his curls bouncing, you whooping, egging him on, and him grabbing your hands and spinning you around. when he does, he takes a step back and accidentally nudges a girl behind him, and her and her friends turn to you both, you meeting their eyes as you finish you spin.

matty holds his hands up, "sorry, sorry,"

they glare at him. you pull matty away and start dancing again, saying sorry yourself. the girls turn away. they sip thier drinks. but they aren't moving. thier standing on the dance floor. not dancing. there is plenty of space over by the bar to stand, if they want. you wave at george again, who is standing in the space, like a good boy.

oh well. fuck them. you're having a good night. you just wish they would stop glaring at you, because they are again, in between the gaps matty's arms make. you spin him around so your back is to them instead, so they wont get upset with him again if he nudges them, because he might, because he is drunk too.

you dont know if your feet actually land on hers, you dont feel it, and okay they might have, but the girl yells out.

"erm. ow!" she says. you turn around.

"sorry," you say again, even though you're not even sure you touched her.

"you stood on my foot," she says.

"i'm sorry," you say again, not sure what she wants you to do.

"you should be a bit fucking more careful, you know."

you breathe in. you were being careful. but thats not the point. its a dance floor. in a club. it's one in the morning. and they are standing on it. you start to burn, in your chest, angry.

"you know there is plenty of space over there if you dont wanna dance," you say, pointing to the bar. george notices you point. his attention pricks. he looks over to where you are talking to a group of girls and one of them is giving you a dirty look.

"we can stand where we want thanks," she says. "just like you act like a twat wherever you are."

"woah, alright," matty says, stopping dancing.

"what's this guy's problem anyway?" the girl says, looking round at her friends.

"we don't have a problem," matty says.

"we might," you say, staring at her. george has put his beer down on the side. ross is already primed, ready to watch it, if needs be.

"no no, just go back to dancing," matty says, smiling big at the girls.

"go back to standing in everyone's fucking way you mean," you say.

"shut the fuck up," the girl says, stepping closer to you.

you're in it now, you can't back down, you cant let this girl win. you step towards her too.

"i'll do what i like, thanks though."

the girl shoves you. everyone around you moves. you're reaching out to shove her, and before you know it, george is in the crowd with you, hand on your shoulder and waist, firm, looking down at the girl that shoved you. she has to look up to see his face.

"everything okay here?" he says, mainly to the other girl.

she nods. but she's smirking. she looks back at her friends, smirking. you lunge, out of his protective grasp, towards her. she steps back, trips a little, spills her pink drink all down her white dress. you dont reach her. georges arms have got you again, but this time, he is lifting you into the air.

"come on," he says, "be the bigger person,"

"i dont want to," you say squirming. the girl is crying, looking down at her ruined dress while all the other girls flock around her and fawn over her.

"dont have to," george says, nudging you to look at her, sobbing. you smirk.

george turns to carry you out, but before he does, he turns back to the girls and says, almost monotone, "ladies, if you're not gonna dance, dont stand on the dancefloor. it's good advice"

and then you're both gone, into the night air, into your boyfriend's arms.

#george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george daniel x oc #george daniel x y/n #george daniel fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic #george daniel #george daniel imagine #george daniel fic

[violettduchess]

Hello Violet! For the Beach Event, may I request watching a meteor shower on the beach with Gilbert? Thank you!

A/N: an entry for @solomons-poison 's Summer Fun event. Here you go @atelier-the-atelier 💜

Gilbert x f reader

Mildly spicy content

WC: 1239

The sky above is an endless canvas of midnight blue, bespeckled with thousands of glowing silver stars. Before you, the sea stretches out to meet the sky, arms wide in welcome, ocean waves singing a soft song of reunion. The water kisses the shore, over and over again, white foam kisses that tickle your bare feet as you stand there, staring out into eternity. The night wind whips your clothing against the soft curves of your body and gently pulls your hair from its pins, as if doing Gilbert’s bidding, as if it knows how he likes you best: nothing restrained, nothing held back from him. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, to where he is propped up on his elbows beneath the sand dunes. Even from here, you see the intensity of his crimson eye as it takes you in, frames you within the beauty of the night, engraving the moment into his mind so it may forever be called forth when he wants it.

You gather your skirts in one hand and run back to him, your feet sinking into the soft, fine sand. He opens his arms and you fall into them, laughing at the thrill of being in his embrace, away from the responsibility of ruling, away from the austere walls of the palace, the tall forests and bare hills of Obsidian. You have both worked so hard, building up the country, building up a group of nobles you can trust, building relations to other countries, including your own Rhodolite. It was, in fact, after you both had stumbled into bed on the wrong side of midnight that Gilbert took one look at your tired face and announced he had an idea.

A small, private island off the coast of Tanzanite had turned out to be a brilliant idea. No one else on the island, no one needing anything from the imperial couple. No distractions, demands or concerns. Just you, Gilbert and the beauty of the beach, the blessing of solitude.

You turn within the circle of his arms, reaching up to brush his hair away from his forehead. God, you love him. A love so expansive that it sometimes feels like it might just break you into pieces, grind you into dust and carry you away into the ether. Gilbert smiles slowly, pulling you closer.

“Yes, Häschen? Is there something you want to say?”

You shake your head, instead leaning up to kiss him. By now you’ve kissed him a thousand times. You’ve run your fingers over every inch of his skin, tasted him in a hundred ways, fallen asleep next to him countless nights. And yet each time you press your lips to his, it feels new, another blossom sprouting in the arboreal shelter of your love for him. He shifts you both, laying you down onto the blanket, already pressing his body against yours. His cool fingers kiss your bare skin as he skims the scooped neckline of your dress, laughing huskily against your mouth as you try to arch up into his touch.

“Ah ah…..Geduld, meine Liebe.” Patience, my love.

You sigh your frustration as his hands run along the shape of your body, over your clothing, where layers of fabric suddenly feel torturous against your warm skin. You ache for the soothing coolness of his touch. And he knows it. He drops his head, white teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. One hand pins your shoulder down, the other stretches, expertly catching the damp hemline of your skirt and slowly drags it upwards, the backs of his fingers purposefully feathering over the bare skin of your calf, your knee, your outer thigh.

“Gil….” His name is seized by the wind as it leaves your trembling lips, carried away towards the black ocean and glittering sky. He bites the soft skin of your shoulder as his hand slides across the top of your thigh, fingers curling possessively inwards. Your eyes close, shutting out the world, as your body winds itself tighter, a mechanism in the hands of an expert engineer. One who knows exactly which minute adjustments of hips and fingers, teeth and tongue, will have the greatest effect.

You gasp as he traces filigree on the inside of your thigh, his touch teasing, cloyingly close to where you need him. Your body twists, trying to right the course of his fingers but they remain where they are, the maddeningly sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh, no matter how you move. 

Your laugh is fluttering ribbons of frustration and admiration, your eyes opening with the intention of catching his gaze and telling him to stop being so cruel. 

You gasp again but not because of your husband.

“Look…..” You grab his shoulder, pulling him away from your half open blouse and the rose-red kisses he’s been painting across your skin. Had he managed to undo the buttons with his mouth? Or his other hand? Or had he simply torn it? You have no idea. And right now it doesn’t matter. He looks up at you, his beautiful face flushed with desire, questions in the crimson depth of his eye. You point up at the sky. 

Velvet black is alive with light as several silver-white orbs streak across the sky, trailing long, glittering tails behind them. They burn white-hot as they fall like celestial beings falling from the heavens, aflame with holy light. Gilbert reaches up, removing his eyepatch, his gaze fixed on the sky.

His lips part in awe at the sight but he is quiet, drinking in the sight as the cosmic flames continue along their shimmering arc. He reaches out a hand without looking, knowing you'll take it and you do, threading your fingers through his as you watch alongside him in perfect quiet. Only the waves provide a soft accompaniment to the orchestral beauty of the meteor shower.

The only thing more moving than the living artwork of the sky is the feeling of experiencing it together. You glance away to watch him, his face another window to the divine, its beauty as heart-stopping as the meteors. He has gilded your life in silver, wrapped you within the tangles of his gossamer heartstrings and raised you into the light of a love brighter than any star.

The last shimmer fades from the sky, leaving only the memory of its radiance behind. You squeeze Gilbert's hand gently. He turns and he smiles, his eyes glowing like stained glass, backlit by the light of deepest affection. He tugs you towards him, clasping you against his chest as you fall back together onto the sand.

"I love you," you murmur in a voice smooth as sea glass, soft as the night wind.

Gilbert brushes your hair away from your face, his hand lingering behind your ear.

"Ich liebe dich auch," he answers in the language of his heart. 

Love, like the eternal movement of the sea, passes between you, carried by your words, tangible in your touching.

And then he shifts, rolling until he is above you, blocking your view of the night sky and filling it with something even more beloved.

His lips touch yours, his fingers wind through your hair, and you close your eyes once again, your heart radiant with a desire as bright and beautiful as any cosmic wonder.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly @joiedecombat

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikemen gilbert #minx summer fun 2023 #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfiction #otome fanfic #violettwrites

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"It's Been Almost A Year." Leslie Vernon X GN! Final/Survivor Reader.

I missed Leslie. I rewatched BTM today and got this out. I hope you are all into it, not much else to say but this was fun as fuck to do. Enjoy it!

—

Rating. Somewhat NSFW. Length. 2.8K. Leslie Vernon X GN! Final/Survivor Reader. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Slasher/Final Person Relationship. Breaking And Entering. Complex Emotions. Hard Feelings. Reader Is Traumatised And Confused And Mad. Leslie Being Leslie. Stalking. Mentions Of Violence And Gore. Choking. Softness. Grinding. Implied Hate Fucking. Praise.

—

You had a long day and frankly were quite exhausted. Dinner was quick and dirty, made in a rush and eaten early, after leaving the dishes to soak, you retreated to your bed. 

The sheets are fresh and soft, you are stripping off your pants and hoodie before you are sliding into the welcoming comfort. The bedroom is dark save for the flickering light of your tv. You had put on a movie, not wanting to sleep quite yet. You have a steaming mug of tea on your bedside table and are curled up, the t-shirt, underwear and socks you have on are more than enough to keep you cosy and warm. You settle further into the multiple layers of your sheets and comforter and throw blankets with a pleased sigh. Fall is here in full force and you are feeling it. The temperature is cold but you can't feel it right now, nor can you resist having the window cracked so you can hear the rain falling outside.

You really didn’t mean to fall asleep so early. You were just so thoroughly relaxed and so tuckered out from the day's events it just kind of happens. The dvd’s menu was on loop, the gentle music from it playing quietly, it is raining harder, but that isn’t what is the main concern at the moment, no the biggest thing taking your attention is that you apparently are no longer alone in your bed. The body next to you is warm, arms around you are strong, the smell hits and it makes your stomach drop. You know that smell, intimately. You remember the night you smelt it for the first time. Rain and damp soil, sweat, musk, apples and more, the whiff you got filled your nose during your struggle, one of his hands in your hair, the other one he was using, attempting to embed his sickle into your body. 

The smell haunted you.

Permeated your nightmares and now it was in your bed. Were you having a nightmare? A really convincing one, you start to try and move, the arms hold you tighter, snaking closer, the grip is firm and you hear a hum followed by him shhhing you, “Hey, hey, no need to get up.” 

Your eyes open, the light from the tv is still covering the room in its low and easy glow, your tea is cold, the temperature has dropped and even with the window open it now feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. 

“Leslie.” You breathe it out, terrified and he responds just a hair louder than you do, “Yes?”

A hard swallow, the terror is thick, it weighs on you, as if a person is sitting on your chest with their whole weight and you ask, “What are you doing in my bed?” 

“You don’t sound happy to see me.” You don’t like or appreciate the deflection. You frown deeply and you force out, “No, I’m not.”

The silence stretches between you, music from the tv and rain from outside intermingling, your heart is hammering in your chest, sweat is making your clothes start to stick to your skin. How the fuck are you going to get out of this? You hadn’t seen him since that night and now he was in your bed, all over you, wrapped around you, threatening to suffocate you with his presence alone. Your mind is screaming at you to do something, get out, run away but to where? You are barely dressed, it’s pouring rain outside, he is stronger and faster, he could have a concealed weapon. 

Endless questions, no answers, you can’t make an informed decision yet. For now you are stuck. Helpless. You have to wait this out.

“I missed you, okay? I was feeling lonely tonight.” 

A guy, no, not a guy, not a man, don’t think of him in human terms, a monster like him gets lonely? The idea of it is strange. Your mind thinks of him in other scenarios, of him doing regular daily life things, cooking, laundry, paying bills and it just doesn’t feel right. It is like your mind refuses to accept it, the idea that someone like him is out in the world, and doing any of those things is so against all you believe that you reject the concept. It serves to turn your stomach. You don’t like lingering on it because it means that any number of people out there that you see in a day could be just like him, a murderer lurking under the surface.

There are only ever thoughts of him in the context of that night, of that killer persona, permanently tied to that, irrevocably damaging your perception of him, tainting it thoroughly. It was as if he didn’t exist, not really, not to you anyway, even though he stalked and followed you for God knows how long before you were not aware of him until very soon before that night almost a year ago, it was like he was simply blipped into existence for those hours of torment and tore away right afterwards. Ripped from the fabric of reality but you were still left with the aftermath, the memories, left with nightmares and trauma, with scars and fear that never truly left. 

You had been doing okay, for a short while but with the year anniversary encroaching you were scared shitless of what it could mean. Would he make a return, force you into a “sequel”? You feared some huge or grand reveal, dramatic and massive but not this, you never expected this, to wake up on an average night, less than a month out from the anniversary with him in your fucking bed. This is arguably so much worse. 

Your one real remaining safe space has been invaded by him. You think if you make it out alive that maybe you should burn the fucking mattress and buy a new one. Move somewhere else, far away, a different country, maybe you could go to Canada? It’s similar enough, isn’t it?

Mind has been running so quickly that when you respond to him it is only about thirty seconds later, “You know they have hotlines you can call for that problem, right?”

He laughs, he is so close you feel the rumble of it in his chest against your back, “Like any of them can be a substitute for you. Hilarious.” He says it in such a sweet tone, as if you are old friends or you suppose in this case, with how he is holding you while between the sheets, lovers. “Being with you is much more stimulating. No phone sex jockey could ever hope to imitate what we have.”

You are stuck on that, on him saying “what we have”. What the fuck did you have? You guessed you and he had a relationship truly unlike any other you have with anyone else but-

“I’ve been thinking about you for so long, planning out our next meeting, following you, watching you, but tonight, it just became too much, you know?” 

He is talking so much. You aren’t used to it. When he was masked up he was so quiet, barely made a sound even during your fight.

He is moving, propping up on one elbow, his other arm still around you, keeping you to him as he says, “I saw you get into bed and at first it was okay. I just watched the movie you had on through the window, it was good, like I was watching it WITH you.” 

His hand turns your face, the contact makes a chill run up your spine and you see him for the first time since that night but it’s different. When he had that mask off his features were streaked with makeup, twisted with anger and hate, malice, deep and method into his killer self. Now he is clean, bare faced, and he is looking down at you with what you could only really pinpoint as warmth, care, affection. How can he look at you like that after hurting you so much? Or is it because he wounded you so deeply that he could?

That night back then, his eyes looked black, lost in the smudgy rings of grease paint like you couldn’t tell where he began and the facade ended, but now in the low light you see that they are brown. His eyes are brown. You don’t know how to feel about that, about any of this.

“But then the movie ended and I went back to just watching you. So unaware I was here, sleeping so soundly.” His brow is creased, lips parted, he is studying you, as if he cannot believe that he is in your bed as much as you can’t. “I just wondered, why am I waiting around? Why am I not in there with you?”

His thumb is running down over your cheekbone and you squirm, “You make me reckless, I want to rush, abandon previously carefully laid plans to be near you. It’s a compulsion.”

The softness of how he says his words combined with the action wakes you up out of the apparent trance you were under, reminding you of just how awful and wrong this all was. “Leslie. Stop. You can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He asks quietly and you feel the anger break through the terror, feel it boil and you exclaim, struggling against him, “Because it’s fucked up!” 

You say it so loudly but he doesn’t flinch, as if expecting you to lash out. 

“This is all supremely fucked up! You-you tried to kill me almost a year ago, you nearly gut me, split me from end to end and now you are back an-and in my room, holding me, saying all this sentimental crap, it-it’s so fucked up. I don’t know how I am supposed to react, what am I meant to do?!”

Quiet falls again after your small rant. You are heaving, shaking slightly. You have no idea what his response will be but it isn’t what he says next, “What do you want from me?”

You feel tired. Heavy. Exasperated, You answer. “For you to leave me alone.” 

He scoffs, a roll of his eyes. “That isn’t going to happen.”

You want to cry, you squirm again, urgency renewed by his omission and you asked frantically, “Why not?!” 

His hand, the same one that was lovingly stroking your face a minute ago is on your throat, holding you down, it makes you stop instantly. He leaned down closer, “Because, honey, sweetheart, we are meant to be in each other's lives until one of us dies and further than that, whoever is left is meant to be haunted by the other.”

You hang off every word because you have no other choice. The helpless and captive audience as he expounds, “Even if I were to humour your request, leave you be, you know just as well as I do you would never truly be free of me.” 

His other arm is moved, he is still resting on his elbow but his hand is free, fingers pass feather light over your forehead, a stark contrast from how firmly he was holding your throat. “I live in that pretty little head. I’ve set up camp and ‘M never leaving. I permanently changed you just like you did to me. It’s mutual.”

Mutual. As if anything you could have done to him is in any way comparable to what he has done to you. He is sick, twisted, disgusting. You hate him. You hate how he is right. You just know that even if he fucked off forever you would still check the backseat of your car before getting in it, would still not want to be out after dark, would still have the nightmares and fear that he’d come back. He would still rule your thoughts, control and dictate your life even if he is absent from it. There was no true coming back from what he put you through. 

The innocence is gone.

“I know you feel it too, feel different after that night, a new version of you. It’s been so difficult watching from afar but not experiencing it up close, I was expecting more of a fight when I did this but to be fair, I did get the drop on you. This is usually ol Kruegers MO, not mine.” 

He stops himself to wonder out loud and amused, “Do you think he’d mind me borrowing it?”

“I don’t care! I don’t fucking care about your weird murderous friends Vernon-” You bite out and he ignores what you say and he is back on you, eyes flick back down, grip tightens, steals your breath, “I have to admit though, this is nice. This is what I really want, the ultimate goal.”

Ultimate goal? Isn’t the ultimate goal to kill you? Where is he going with this? 

“I want you to accept and come to terms with the fact that you’re mine”

Accept? Come to terms with? He talks like it is already done and decided, written in stone, immovable.

He reads the confusion in your gaze and fills in the blank, “Because you are already mine.” 

That makes the anger return full force, he smiles, wicked and twisted, “Like it or not we are bonded together.” 

You didn’t like it. 

He told you more, that you lived under his skin, occupied his waking days and sleepless nights, pushed him in his work more and more and during this, the movements were subtle. He was totally on top of you now. Propped up on one hand, his other one still around your throat, slotted between your legs, minute movements of his hips and your breath catches. His grip loosens, the blankets and sheets have pooled near your hips, your shirt has ridden up during his forced cuddle session with you, his eyes are down and you don’t need to guess where he is looking.

You know, you can feel his gaze resting on the scar he gave you, the sharp and jagged line that took almost twenty stitches to close up. You gave him a similarly gruesome and terrible wound but his was not on display right now. You feel exposed by this fact, naked and vulnerable, the brutality he inflicted on you on display but his is hidden away. It feels weirdly poetic. The rolling of his hips is more bold, you are painfully aware of how into this he is and how little you are wearing, worse still, you have to contend with the unwanted heat coiling low, making your skin feel hot. 

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

That is what you keep on repeating in your mind, but when he touches you like this, says those sweet fucking things, looks at you and talks about the future, destiny and fate, what you both went through and more it doesn’t feel like you hate him.

He is praising you, his breathing has picked up, “You were fucking beautiful that night. Soaked in sweat and covered in blood, screaming, clawing at me, like a feral animal. I loved watching you become the true you, the best version of you, totally unleashed.”

Your fingers are curling in the sheets, twisting them, focus on that, clenching your fists as you try to keep your expression hateful or at best neutral but you think you are failing as the beginnings of pleasure sink in. Your stomach is taut, thighs tensing around his hips, “You really hurt me, I was in bad shape by the time you were done, worried you might have really gotten me.”

Why did this feel good? Why was this shifting, bleeding, turning from feeling wrong to feeling right? 

You felt like he saw you, understood you better than anyone else might in this one respect. You had so many people who looked at you after what happened like you were broken, looked at you with pity and sadness and you hated it. 

Leslie looks at you like you are his everything, like you are strong, like you are fully capable and could do anything. Even before this no one looked at you like that and it is becoming more and more clear with every passing day no one will ever look at you like that. 

Except for him. 

You hate that you like being seen this way so much and hate that he is the one who is giving this to you. 

Between the friction, his words, and everything else, you break. You grind back and breathe out how you were desperately trying to convince yourself you felt, clinging to the emotions that plagued you for the past months, vocalizing it through gritted teeth, “I fucking hate you.” 

That makes him grin again, like he loves to hear that, as if it is music to his ears, a fundamental and unshakeable truth of the universe itself. “I know you do.” 

#Leslie Vernon X reader #Slasher x reader #BHF writing #I love him #I adore him #Can you tell #I bet you can

[coldgoldlazarus]

I guess that's the other reason I decided to stop, with Arknights. The whole Games As Service endless grind was bad enough, the "you can't ever fall off/take a break because you'll never be able to catch back up" was worse, but it also just didn't help any that the handling of the difficulty curve was also going in a direction I didn't care for.

I liked the moderately challenging stages, where there was enough of a strategic requirement that you couldn't just plunk down any ol' operator anywhere and win guaranteed, but there was still the freedom to try to figure out your own strategies using your personal roster, and with some trial and error of a few failed attempts, find a way to best utilize nearly any combination to beat it. (And usually with juuust enough breathing room to recover if you made a fumble midstage.) Those All Three Star guides were great for a reason after all.

But it really felt like, after a while, the difficulty reached a point where it really stopped being fun, and was oriented solely to like, the sweaty crowd. CC was the worst about this, and thankfully at least optional, but I could still feel some of that design philosophy in a lot of Chapter 6 and certain events, too.

There was no longer that same sort of freedom, now it's like, your options are either: (have and) bring an extremely specific combination of lesser characters/archetypes; or just (have and) bring or borrow Surtr or Holungday. And no matter which option gets chosen, the timings are so tight and the required strategy so precise that even the slightest fumble or mistiming could completely tank an attempt, leading in to upwards of fifty tries before finally lucking into a win, and by that point feeling so frustrated that it smothers any hint of satisfaction in the crib. Basically, no longer able to meaningfully choose your team, and all but required to either cheese or use a guide or both on the strategy front. Plus, for the events, a time limit to work with.

And yeah I know that sort of extremely technical execution-based gameplay is fun for some people, but for me it really isn't. That stuff was just a waste of time, energy, and cognitive power that left me too spent to be able to focus on the story cutscene rewards afterward.

And like, borrowing a Silverash or Eyja was a thing from pretty early on, but I still feel like there was a point where those aforementioned Three Star guides having to break up the theme with the addition of an OP six star went from like, an infrequent thing for mainly challenge mode stages, to happening with every single event boss on the normal mode stages, along with a few non-boss ones as well.

Yes, you control the buttons you press, you don't have to level or use the OP ops, but it shouldn't feel like the game is punishing you for making that choice. Or for just not having (and leveling) a specific operator or archetype in the first place. Or for being a late joiner, or being an early joiner like me but taking a few hiatuses from the game. At that point, is it really a choice?

I loved the game for being enjoyably challenging, when it was actually being a challenge. I hated CC for being just actual bullshit, and I could feel the bullshit spreading elsewhere as things went on. The fun came of figuring out what could be done with what I had, rather than from having to find a guide on what needed to be done and execute its instructions perfectly. Along with having to hope a friend would have an E2 Level 90 Ifrit for me to borrow.

Basically, I loved Arknights, but I don't think it loved me, because I feel like the devs always meant it to be a diffent kind of game than the one I was first enjoying. And that's a real shame, honestly.

#not a reblog #arknights #incoherent rambling #and some ranting #idk #yes I am whining about not being catered to as a dirty casual #no I dont give a shit #I still think orienting towards the hardcore crowd #is just a bad idea

[samsvenn]

𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 ║ 𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐮

warning! extremely suggestive themes, mentions of violence, submissive laito and subaru, reader is not a saint

Reader is a Pathovoratus, a mythical species that lives by consuming the heartbreak of others, and managed to break the Sakamaki Brothers' hearts. Reader managed to save enough money to escape and become the new co-owner of a small café outside the countryside’s outskirts. Three months passed and life was going well - until two heartbroken parasites paid a visit. (more info at the end) wc: 2.3k

The way the countryside reflected its glistening happy hues through the window was a sight for sore eyes - if you hadn’t grown accustomed to them by now. Waves of endless grass blades dancing with the wind as its partner, stray old cats loitering like they own the place, roasted coffee beans being your reliable penniless aroma, this was good. This was where you belonged. 

But, if the café was near a cemetery, things could’ve been perfect. However, greed has a habit of suffocating those who weren’t grateful, and experiencing that chokehold again isn’t for the best. 

Five customers, each showing their age difference, showed up at the café today. Most regulars here were old enough to drive, leaving you to tend to their mature taste. Your current customer was a woman who appeared to be in her late sixties; gray hair proudly streaking at the roots and all. Cleaning your portafilter and grinding up the roasted beans to a fine, almost powdery texture, the coffee machine starts to extract the auburn liquid into an espresso glass.  

She hands the bill on a wooden Japanese pay slab before bidding an expressionless goodbye. You recline back on the stiff wooden stool and let your thoughts wander. ‘I should read the news tonight-’, ‘Maybe I can whip up a macchiato after this shift ends-’, ‘Do I have enough money to buy mochi at 7/11-?’

You get to work cleaning the appliances and wiping away dripping milk froth. You duck and grab a spray bottle behind the counter, but the door swings open, and wooden chimes sing their tune - a customer has walked in. 

“I’ll be with yo- Ow!” You caress the back of your head to get some sense of relief but it never came. “...Sorry, just forget that. Now, what would you lik-” 

The whole world froze when you saw who you were serving. 

“Hmm… Perhaps an explanation with a side of a medium-cup vanilla cappuccino. Add two extra pumps, please. I hate bitter things. You of all people should know what I like, no?” That irritating sing-song voice only had one owner. He perched himself with his chair positioned directly in front of the counter.

“Ne, Subaru. Big Brother Laito’s gonna pay for you so be grateful and order anything you want.”

Subaru, who’s been hiding his face by looking at the cafe’s window stills, hesitantly walks up to the counter and sat himself down. “...Iced almond latte with caramel drizzled at the sides and rim. And… make it a large.”

Their eyes burn into yours. Even though they were half-brothers, these rare moments truly felt like they were related. Moreso united as one.

“One medium vanilla cappuccino with two extra pumps and one large iced almond latte with caramel drizzle coming right up.”

. . . . . . . . ◟੭

“You are truly one of a kind,” Laito says while you prepare your measuring spoons. Subaru’s been quiet and Laito was the first one to break the ice.

“How could you? Was it fun? Us being your little toys? No- No…” Laito pauses and whips his head away from you before returning. “Did you enjoy the attention while it lasted? Shu screaming his lungs out, Reiji crying and promising you that he’ll be better and ‘perfect’, was it fun watching us torment ourselves for you?”

The short answer: Yes, it was. 

“-Say something.” Subaru bangs his hard-knuckled fist on the smooth counter and joins in with Laito. 

“You two came here looking for answers. It’s been three months and you’re still hung up on that day.” The coffee machine finishes grinding up Laito’s beans and the milk frother is ready. You take out a white mug and fill it with the heated milk before taking a syrup bottle and adding splashes of vanilla to the cup. 

“Not even a damn sorry?!” Subaru reaches for your collar and ends up holding you by your neck in the air. Laito’s not even looking this way anymore. He’s keeping his sharp green eyes on the beans being extracted. 

Your head felt like it was gonna combust. “Y-You… killing m-me… just p-proves you still c-care…” Eight words. Only eight words were what you could manage. 

“...!” The light in his eyes changed. His hands start trembling. Eventually, they gave up and you were back to finishing up Laito’s drink. 

“One medium vanilla cappuccino with two pumps ready to serve.” You hand Laito his mug and his hands graze yours. It turns from a short, accidental touch to full-on handholding. You look up and stop ignoring his gaze, but Laito doesn’t dare look back. 

“...I still need to make Subaru’s drink-”

“-I know.”

Laito’s grip won’t loosen no matter what and wriggling yourself out doesn’t work. 

“Laito, let go.”

“...” No response emitted from Laito. Not a smile, not a frown, his face is glued towards Subaru and his bangs hide any bits of expression. 

“Subaru, your drink’s gonna be postponed. That okay with you?” Talking with Laito proved to be useless. This man’s hands weren’t holding yours in a painful death grip, but soft caressing and your wrist being locked together aren’t ideal too. 

“...Y-Yeah.”

The clock ticks down until it reaches the fifteen-minute mark. Subaru joined in but contrary to Laito, he took your hand and began to caress himself with it. Starting from his puffy cheeks, then letting you trace along the curvature of his face, before indulging more and kissing your fingertips until his lips were bright red. 

“Mmhm…” Subaru slowly opened his mouth and shakily lets his tongue suck away the vanilla drops that spilled on your hands when he grabbed you. 

An idea reared its ugly head, waving a big flashing, red billboard in your mind.

You thought to yourself, ‘What if…’ 

Subaru’s taken aback when you start moving your hand. Why? Probably because he didn’t expect you to pat his head the way he loved so much before gently prying his mouth open. There, you tell him one command: “Suck.”

Whether he was desperate for your love or attention, the line was blurry. Subaru’s tongue snaked and swirled itself around your fingers, not even noticing the obscene sounds he was making. His mouth felt warm despite his cold skin. 

“Nngh..!” His beautifully dilated red eyes look back at you, pleading with a question he loves asking ever since your days at the manor: “Am I doing okay? Does it feel good?” He was never good at expressing his words. Oh, if only eyes could speak. 

“How could I ever be unsatisfied with you, Subaru?” For the first time since their arrival here, you let out a content smile. This seems to rile up Subaru, causing him to choke when he tries to push your hand deeper into the back of his mouth. 

Subaru lets your hands go before gripping onto the counter’s edge for dear life. “Ack-! Fuck I-” His eyes immediately dart at yours and his jaw clenches. He’s waiting for it - your disappointment. 

“I-I’m sorry- I didn’t know- Listen-” You could almost hear your heart break when he tried to save himself the embarrassment. Almost.

“-It’s okay, Subaru. You’re not the one letting people suck your fingers till they choke after all.” You rub circles on his soft bed of hair and don’t miss the way he leans to the touch. Poor guy, you’ve been depriving him due to your hard-earned absence.

“Y-Yeah, what you said.”

“Waahh… What’s this? Little Brother privileges?” You two turn towards Laito, who’s been having the time of his life drinking his mug. Yet even after all that, your left hand is still held convict. “My, my. This isn’t what we agreed on, Subaru.”

“Fuck off. This was your idea and I came along for the ride.” Subaru grumbled through his teeth. 

“It’s my older brother privilege to have first dibs.”

“Not my fault you’re too slow.”

“Hold on, ‘agreed on’?” Interrupting their verbal quarrel, you repeat Laito’s words and it hangs like a dark cloud. 

Laito’s eyebrows raise sarcastically, taunting you for being clueless as you were. “You really think we’re here just to chat about how life’s been?”

Laito pays for his cup and guides his hand to the wooden pay slab. You look back at Subaru, who’s waiting for Laito’s cue to whatever they’re alluding to. 

“Nfufu~ I admit it was a dumb idea to come here, to see you especially. But, the heart wants what it wants.” Something tells you that getting that macchiato was going to be near impossible with the pace of things. 

“Did you think that after we found you, we’ll simply walk away and act as if nothing happened?” Laito’s sultry voice cracks at the end. It hurts him to say it -  ‘Act as if nothing happened’ because that’s exactly what you did. There’s not a single shred of regret in your voice when you greeted them as if they were total strangers. And the worst part is that he knows. 

Laito knows.

“And you think I’ll leave here willingly because..?” You say as you prepare the milk frother and place Subaru’s mug under the coffee machine’s extractor. 

His voice deepens and all remaining playful cheekiness evaporated within Laito’s body. “I’ll brutalize your body until Kanato can't even salvage you. If I don’t, Subaru will. If he doesn’t, Ayato will. One flick of a finger and a familiar’s sent the word that you’re living out here.”

“...See, that’s the thing. No doubt, I believe you’ll rat out this place.” You drizzle the sides and ridge of the mug with caramel syrup. Carefully adding small cubes of ice, you add the cold almond milk and begin to slowly pour the extracted coffee at the top. “But I don’t believe you’ll kill me. At least for now.”

“You’ll hold onto that belief? That false hope? You’ve become utterly pathetic and that's coming from a guy like me~” Laito’s biting words were right. Clinging to such fallible reasoning would only kill you, and rot you from the inside out until decay spreads.

But it was okay. 

It was fine. 

Because deep down, you felt it.

Although their love for you dwindled compared to the size it once was, one thing was certain and sound: it was a minuscule amount, but it wasn’t completely gone. 

You gave Subaru his mug and the air stilled in silence. An answer, they need an answer. A concrete one. One that promises you’ll be with them. Subaru fidgets his thumbs under the counter so that you won’t see what he’s been reduced to. Laito, on the other hand, can’t stop tapping his heel in preparation for what your answer is. It’s cute that your disappearance is the result of all these accumulating anxious fidgetings. Similar to them, there’s no guarantee that you’ll stay once more. There’s no guarantee that you can love them the way you did before. The more the facts add, the brothers had more to lose than you did. 

It was a sickeningly delicious thought. 

“Do you… have your a-answer?” Subaru gulps deep. 

His swollen, dark eyes start tearing up. If your answer remotely resembles a ‘no’, things can get very ugly, exceedingly quickly. You know what your answer is; much to your dismay.

“Freedom was nice while it lasted.” A big, defeated sign leaves you and waves the white flag. Laito and Subaru look at each other with an unreadable expression. Both brothers somehow understood. Perhaps it was a sibling thing. Never in a million years would it come to you that any one of the Sakamaki could do something familial. 

But you were proven wrong.

Laito and Subaru simultaneously stood up. You could’ve sworn they’d jump up and start pumping their fists in the air from the way their stupid grins glued widened their dimples awake.

“Take a snack. Or two. It’s gonna be a long drive back.” Subaru points at the café’s menu. 

If Subaru was sneaking glances at you- Scratch that. Since he was, he would’ve mistaken your expression for thinking how many snacks you need for the drive. Be that as it may, assumptions are quite deceiving. “I will.”

You were hungry. Subaru wasn’t wrong about that. Whereas the idea is just a little off the mark. Food couldn’t supply you with the nutrition and vitamins needed for your survival. 

The smell of trust makes you salivate when people are so readily available to put it up on a silver platter. 

And soon, you were going to feast. 

『••✎••』

Writer’s note and explanation:

made this out of spite bc DiaBoys need to suffer more and I was playing this game called "Here For Sweethearts" and there was a very big twist at the end. MAJOR SPOILER ALERT: 

The twist was that the MC is a Pathospire who lives by absorbing the heartbreak/suffering of others. Simply put, Pathospires are a rare species that are vampires that drain emotions. But, they aren't really 'vampires', more so a symbiote/parasite. To live, they must absorb the negative energy of heartbreak/suffering, or else they’ll starve themselves to death. The creator of the game has expressed that they don’t want the concept of Pathospires to be stolen or completely copied, which is why I’m making major changes to the idea and of course, the name. And to confirm, the DiaBoys aren't aware of the Reader being a Pathovoratus except for Karl bc duh it's Karlheinz

I’ve changed the name from Pathospire to Pathovoratus; Patho which is greek for ‘suffering’ and ‘voratus’ which is latin for devour. I don’t know if I’ll make this an au, but there’s a good possibility it might be because I’m all for angst and hurt. I’m also a very big fan of the game so there’s lots of self-indulgence going on :)

Update: Will make a full post about the Pathovoratus Au in the future! But the main idea is that in order to live, they have to cause heartbreak so that they can absorb that negative energy, which is their food and life source

#subaru sakamaki #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #sakamaki brothers #fanfic #dl #pathovoratus au

[corvuserpens]

Brother Mine: A “The Sandman” Short Fic [Part III]

And now for a moment of peace and quiet bc honestly, I wish I had someone with whom I could just sit and do stuff together without needing to talk all the time. AND we begin to delve into another headcanon I and many other fans have that Dream of the Endless suffers from anxiety and depression, which we will look into in depth later on. 

@raven-star7 for part threeeeee *finger guns*

Half an hour later, they were back in the park again, but in a much different section. It was now lunch time, and more people filled the benches and lawns and walkways to have lunch, hang out with friends and take a much needed break before going back to the grind. Still, the place remained peaceful and pleasant; the park was big enough to accomodate everyone.

The two siblings sat at the bank of an artificial pool, under the shade of a willow tree whose vines skimmed the surface of the water, causing ephemerous ripples with each breath of wind. Each of them had a book to entertain themselves with, and Death had to admit she was impressed with her younger brother; ever the “workaholic” (she loved that word, loved how ungovernable in the use of their own languages humans were), she had expected him to quit as soon as she gave him any free rein and go home to his realm, back to his noble duties as the Dream Lord.

And yet, after a short trip to find some reading material, here they were. While they were at the store browsing the shelves, Dream had told her he barely knew what to choose, as so many new options had sprung up since his imprisonment. Poor guy even looked kind of lost. He, who owned a library containing every book ever written and unwritten. But there was also a hungry glint in his eyes, like he wanted to pick every one of those books and read them cover to cover. She was pretty sure he would be doing just that in his free time back in the Dreaming, if indeed he could find any free time. 

In the end, she had to give him a hand, asking what he was in the mood for. He had thought about it for a short bit, then replied:

“Last time we saw each other, I pondered much about humanity, as I told you. And after I spoke with Hob, I think... I wish to try and understand modern mortals better.”

So, Death brought him to the Philosophy section. Nothing better to understand the human psyche and the Big Questions they often enjoyed breaking their brains against once in a while. She had suggested he pick up Satre or Camus, for she had a feeling they might help him figure out that whole “what is the point of life” funk she had found him plunged in, months ago.

The sapphire sky, now free of clouds, was fragmented by leaves that rustled lazily. Behind them, Death listened to the people as they relaxed, had fun, or exercised. All of them bustling about, running, breathing, alive, and the Reaper was reminded (not for the first, nor last time) of what a miracle this phenomenon was. Life. On her lap sat a copy of Rick Riodan’s The Last Olympian, split down the middle, but rather than reading, she observed the mortals and the unveiling of their existence. 

She never tired of watching them. Her feet - bared, toes half submerged in the lukewarm water - felt smoothed over, as if invisible hands were massaging them without actually touching them. At her right, Dream, always unnaturally still, boots still on, was transfixed by Albert Camus’ writing. The only discernable movement she could catch were his eyes dashing back and forth as he drank the words, too bewitched to notice he was being watched.

She glanced down. “I’m telling you, you would feel even better if--”

“I am not taking my shoes off, my sister.” Though his tone was properly respectful, cool and even as always, his voice was resolute and unwavering in its statement. “I am fine as I am.”

“Ugh, you’re such a sulky twat,” she said, with not a hint of malice or frustration in her tone. She knew he would never take her criticisms to heart, and he didn’t have the guts to truly anger her (however, he did test her patience at certain instances, as was observed that morning at the cafe). “Always have to keep up appearances. What are you so afraid will happen if you allow yourself to just breathe?”

He broke his intense focus to straighten up and sigh. Dream’s face was a porcelain mask of composure, if of a subtle irritation, and she could see in that very faint sneer that he was struggling to decide whether to provide an answer or remain silent.

Dream rarely opened up his heart to anyone, even to Death, and she prided herself in knowing she was practically the only conscious entity capable of cracking his shell open and get him to share his thoughts. Even so, she wished he would trust more people with his innermost secrets, his most private notions. She still held out hope that Hob would eventually become one of such people, and things did seem to be evolving in that direction. Thankfully, time was not an obstacle in that sense, but how much longer would that take? Another hundred years? A thousand? It did no good to a soul to bottle up their feelings.

Morpheus let his shoulders sag in thought, his fingers gripping the book so hard she could see the bone through his translucid skin. She placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“The universe won’t collapse in on itself just because you decided to take a day off. Lucienne is more than capable of keeping things in order while we’re out here, alright? Besides, it’s just us. You can relax.”

He side glanced her, and a new emotion, one as rare as a blooming flower in the desert, appeared: anxiety.

Ah, Death thought, disconsolate to find out she had guessed his thoughts correctly once more. 

Eons later, it still affected him.

Desire had it all wrong. She had tried, in vain, to tell them so many times, that pride and icy indifference were not Drean’s only personality traits. There was also a deep empathy to him, and a sense of responsibility, and yes, while he did make many mistakes, above all, Dream was driven by the need to exact justice and compassion. Misguided at times, true, but that did not change the fact that he would never forgive himself for the lives, the worlds lost, all because for once he had chosen to follow his heart instead of reason. He had paid the price for that mistake when he was captured and held in a glass cage for over a century, and yet he would not relax because he feared that, if he did, this world would crash into chaos and death, too. And it would all be his fault, again.

Death offered him that same comforting smile she would give to the recently deceased, and squeezed her tormented brother’s arm. “It’s okay.”

Dream took in a shuddered breath and let it out slowly. His eyes fluttered close; the book was set down on his lap for a few moments, then laid on the grass, by his side. Then finally - finally! - he hunched over to undo his shoe laces and pull them out along with his black socks, one at the time.

“Yessssss,” Death delighted with a big smile as she watched her stuck up brother dip his feet into the pond. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

He turned away, but she could see his cheeks pull up into a smile he could hardly conceal. His features were much more relaxed, his eyelids hanging lazy over his eyes. He pushed one foot back and forth on the water, creating small waves that bobbed the water lily leaves up and down. With another deep breath through the nose, like he was taking in the whole world and all its wonders - the sweetness of the breeze, the cooling shadow cast by the willow, the sun spots peeking through the leaves to kiss his skin - Dream picked his book and asked, rather sardonically: “Satisfied, now?”

All she did was give him her most radiant smile, bright enough to make the day jealous. Still, on the inside, she felt her heart swell to twice its size. Dream’s face twisted into a hilarious looking grimace as he did his absolute damndest to refrain himself from grinning. He shook his head and resumed his reading.

Death leaned into him, arm to arm, allowing herself to rest against him for a long moment. Dream didn’t move an inch - except to give the subtlest nudge of approval in return.

“I love you, little brother,” she whispered. 

On the pond, a mother duck and her row of ducklings passed by them. One of the babies was lagging behind, despite how furiously he kicked, and Death feared he would get separated from his family, until one of the stronger ducklings broke ranks, quacking her adorable little call, to join her brother’s side and accompany him so he wouldn’t be alone. Together, just a few inches further back from the rest of the family, they swam after them, safe in each other’s company.

She hadn’t expected Dream to respond to her spontaneous bout of sentimentalism, (he rarely, if ever, did so).

“I love you too, my sister,” he purred back, soft and warm as a blanket in the peak of winter.

Hell, it was almost enough to make her tear up, though she would never ruin the loveliness of a moment as fragile as this, nor disgrace the both of them with such emotional displays. Even so, she couldn’t resist closing the distance between them just a little more to plant a quick peck on his cheek. She pretended she didn’t see him blush and smile.

Out of nowhere, she remembered something else to make this hangout even better, and materialized a relic from times long passed: a cassette player. Boxy, obnoxiously large and obtuse, grey and old and glorious. Heavens, how she missed the 80′s!

Death opened the slot to check what was inside. Mixtape #13, her own handwriting labelled, messy and reaching. Yes, good enough. She put it back, pressed “play” and stuffed one earbud in her ear, closing her eyes when the first chords of New Order’s “Vanishing Point” began to play. She let her head bob to the rhythm, hair loosely waving along. Perfect. Cassette box on her lap, she leaned back on her elbows, feet dangling back and forth underwater, breathing in the smell of later summer, the short lived scent of hot air, sea breeze and new love, a scent that was simultaneously unforgettable, and yet impossible to recall as soon as the throes of autumn set its grip upon the earth.

She cracked one eye open to glance at Dream, still immersed in his book, and poked his knee with one of hers to get his attention. When he looked to her from the corner of his eye (no doubt to hide the frown of impatience marring his brow), she offered the second earbud to him. For once, perhaps too eager to resume his reading, he accepted without arguing. 

He stared out across the pond as he listened, his expression distant and dispassionate, whilst deciding whether this strange music was to his liking or not. A couple of minutes later he turned fully to his sister, nodded his approval, and buried his nose once more in Camus’ Absurdism, hopefully for the last time. Death leaned back her head, set her sunglasses over her closed eyes and sighed in pure bliss, sinking into the wonderful, peaceful harmony of being simply mortal.

#The Sandman #Dream of the Endless #Death of the Endless #the sandman netflix #Brother Mine fanfic #stories by Crow

[elevatorelevenhatesyou]

What The Hell Is Wrong With Destiny 2 And The People Who Play It

I got bored of Destiny 2 some years ago and stopped playing just before they cut half the game out. After that, every time I thought to myself "yknow I feel like some solid shooty gameplay, maybe I should reinstall Destiny 2" I would realize that the moment of fun my memory conjured up was of some part of the game that no longer exists.

Some time ago, they decided to do a big story event where several of the in game world locations got taken over by the bad guys, and those locations would be "vaulted" and would no longer be accessible. Kind of a neat idea story-wise that I would normally even be in favor of, but in practice it just meant that all the best content got taken out of the game forever.

My favorite activities were the Escalation Protocol endless fight on Mars, the Black Armory Forges, doing jobs on the Tangled Shore so I could barter with Spider, and the two Vanguard Strikes: A Garden World and The Will of the Thousands. My favorite weapons were the Hammerhead heavy machine gun and the Kindled Orchid hand cannon.

Now I have none of those things.

I only came back to Destiny 2 when they did a big promotional Free Week, when the latest two expansion packs became available to play for free. I don't really care enough to do a thorough analysis of why, but I don't like any of the new stuff as much as the stuff that got thrown out. Rather, I want to talk about the something deeper that was a really big part of the experience of coming back to this game in its current state without having played all the lead up stuff. 

I've been playing a lot, still, even though the best stuff is gone, but it's only because of inertia. The general moment to moment gameplay is still Good. I like shooting stuff. I like the pace at which shooting stuff is broken up by tossing a grenade or shooting a giant laser. Charging up a void grenade by holding down the button for a second is viscerally impactful and I wish every game had something like that.

I was gonna praise the environment design but all the best environments were removed, and instead we get a place that's just ice, a place that's just more Hive caves, and a place that's just more Earth ruins. The paradise in disrepair of Titan, the pieced together nonsense of Mercury's Infinite Forest, the angular alien computer labyrinths of Io, the islands of space rubble tied together with rope to make up the Tangled Shore, all gone now.

Enemy design though, is actually really good most of the time. It could be better, but what's there is certainly miles ahead of most other shooty games that only pit you against generic dudes with guns. It isn't quite on the level of Vermintide 2, but it wouldn't take much to get it there. I won't go into how I'd do that though, because I'm here to complain about all this other stuff.

So yeah, the basic core gameplay loop of running around shooting guys and occasionally casting a spell, that's all pretty nice, especially with the visual and auditory polish, like the little explosions when you get headshots, and the deep thumping of hand cannons firing and such. Plus, there's a lot of varied little grinds to do that give you an excuse to go places and shoot stuff. And Then They Fuck It Up. They fuck it all up, they do it on purpose, because they want your money.

BUNGIE HATES YOU AND WANTS YOUR MONEY

So there's this thing, this concept, a psychological phenomenon, a driving force within people that can be seen in many aspects of life. They call it "Fear Of Missing Out," or FOMO, and it's a source of anxiety in many people. Advertisers may use it intentionally to get people more interested in buying that one flavor that only comes around in a specific season. It's not necessarily bad, sometimes it can push people to discover new things, but still it is anxiety, and many game developers try to avoid creating that sense in their players.

Not Destiny 2. Destiny 2 is weaponized industrial grade FOMO.

A great deal of Destiny 2's content is delivered through Seasons, which Google tells me last an average of ten weeks. Every season includes a big treasure trove of brand new loot, probably some new game mode, some new story bits but who cares, and a giant rewards track full of challenges and useful stuff like cash and upgrade materials and whatnot.

Seasons are also locked behind a pay wall called the Season Pass. The Season Pass is not cheap. I haven't done any math about this but I estimate that less than a quarter of the content added in any given season is available for free. At the end of the season, most of that stuff gets thrown away forever. If not at the end of the season, then after a few seasons. At time of writing I think some parts of the previous three(?) seasons are still available. I'm not a hundred percent sure what's still there though, because it's locked behind season passes I don't have.

All this is IN ADDITION to the Expansions, which are what you'd expect of DLC: a hefty chunk of new story, some new location to play in, and a bunch of other new stuff like gear and cosmetics and whatever.

Since there are two different ongoing sets of paid content, nearly everything new is unavailable to free players. The new story stuff, the latest game modes, and the best gear. The Beyond Light expansion introduced a new subclass and I don't get that either, because I'm now also a free player, even though I actually bought the previous two expansions, Forsaken and Shadowkeep. Incidentally, a bunch of Forsaken is now gone, so I no longer have access to a bunch of the stuff I paid for, thanks for that. Witch Queen introduced a weapon crafting thing, and surprisingly I do get that, though I only get like a quarter at best of all the crafting recipes.

Paywalled cosmetics and story is one thing, but best gear is quite another, especially in this game with all its PvP shit that they care about so much. Differences in gear are usually pretty slight though, so I'll ignore that for now. But locking all the newer game modes behind paywalls is just stupid. Don't you want the paying customers to have as many people to play with as possible?

New thing in season 18 is called Ketchcrash, some kinda thing were we invade a pirate ship in space. Sounds cool. Okay, gave it a try, it was alright, some neat little set pieces in there, can see this being a fun grind. So what rewards do I get? What comes next? Oh, nothing is next and I get no rewards, because I have to buy the season pass. Welp, guess I'll never do any of that ever again, said thousands upon thousands of free players.

They don't care. They have whales to suckle from. It speaks to a deeper sickness, an apathy that pervades the design and the playerbase. I hesitate to call it a "community." If it's a community they don't communicate very well.

NOBODY KNOWS ANYTHING AND NOBODY CARES

Hey Various Destiny Wikis And Information Resources, is it still possible to get the Archon's Thunder? I sure would like a heavy machine gun that does solar damage.

NOPE! I had to do like a half hour of research, skimming through old news articles and shit, before I found what looks to be a fucking gold farmer website confirming that this thing's not available anymore.

Where are all the wiki people?? I can tell you where they're not! THE WIKI! Yo quick question HEY DESTINY COMMUNITY, BY HOW MUCH DOES THE PUBLIC DEFENDER MOD INCREASE REWARDS FROM PUBLIC EVENTS? NONE OF YOU FUCKIN KNOW, DO YOU?

Mod's been part of the game for years but I literally couldn't find an answer to that question. It’s been around since before I started playing years ago! (I don't know exactly when it was introduced because I could not find that information either, ironically.) Whatever, it doesn't matter, or rather it doesn't matter enough to the end game grinds that all the whales are doing.

Hey Warframe Wiki I have a highly specific question about this new sniper rifle, one among hundreds of weapons in this game. It gains a buff after several consecutive headshots. Does it count the headshots separately if you hit more than one with one shot? Do you know the answer, Warframe Wiki?

oh you've got basically everything i could possibly ever need? 

even though this rifle was released last week. like seriously last week, ACTUALLY LAST WEEK, NOVEMBER FUCKING 30TH, LITERALLY LAST

WEEK

No wonder Warframe ate your fucking lunch, Destiny. You cretins.

I feel like this speaks to the kind of person Destiny wants to attract. Do you care? Nobody cares. Warframe meanwhile has all the chuunibyous who are extremely invested and passionate and joyful. Warframe sucks and I hate almost everything about it despite my three thousand hours of playtime in it, that's another long series of rants, but the playerbase at large actually give a shit about helping each other and making the game as fun as it can be for everyone else. There's something terribly selfish and apathetic about the way Destiny players consume content, and I think I know why that is. It's because Destiny rewards selfish behavior.

THERE’S NO I IN TEAM, AND THERE’S NO U IN IT EITHER

Competition is everywhere. First of all, out of the basic daily grinds available at the tower, ONE is Co-op, and THREE are PvP. So, that says something. Also, certain quests require you to get kills against players, so PvP is forced (Hey go fuck yourself Malfeasance). I absolutely fucking hate this. But more than just having a really big PvP focus in terms of game modes, competition is built into the fabric of the basic gameplay. There's actually almost no cooperation at all. You CAN cooperate, but the mechanics don't actually incentivize it. In most cases, they discourage it.

The vast majority of daily quests take the form of "Get certain number of kills with X" such as with a specific weapon type, damage type, with grenades, melee, headshot kills, stuff like that. There are also a bunch of skills and perks and armor mods that work off kills, like spawning orbs of light or elemental wells on kill, weapons that gain temporary buffs on kill, etc. But the thing is, "on kill" only works when YOU get the final blow, which means when you have three players together doing the same activity, they're competing with each other for getting the last hit on enemies, whether it's for gun calibration bounties or just because it makes your gun reload faster.

You can revive teammates when they go down, but you hardly have to. It's not like the enemies are dangerous enough that you really need three guns to handle them. In most places there's only a five second wait before someone can revive themselves. Even when it increases that time it's still only up to about thirty seconds, and in higher difficulties there are even mechanics that PREVENT you from reviving teammates. Because cooperation? This sucks.

Compare to Warframe again, Warframe builds a lot of mechanics really haphazardly, but they still somehow manage to make reviving teammates a basically desirable thing to do, and there are a lot of area buff abilities on certain frames. They all have pretty big areas, which is useful since warframes jump around a lot and are really fast. There are also tons of enemies, even infinite enemies in many cases, so getting 150 kills with Magnetic Damage or whatever is pretty chill no matter how many people you're playing with, unless one of them is Volt and he's doing that constantly zap everybody in a six mile radius build.

Compare to Vermintide, a REAL co-op game, where the entire thing is built around cooperation. Special enemies can disable players who are by themselves which makes staying with the team necessary for survival. Enemies are uniformly potentially dangerous and they come from any direction. The characters talk to each other and have fun banter. AND there are lots of big area buff abilities.

Meanwhile in Destiny 2's main co-op modes players are constantly at odds with each other. There's not even a penalty for running ahead and leaving your teammates behind. In fact, the game will teleport THEM to YOU if you go too far ahead. There's a healing grenade which I don't think I've ever seen used even once. Warlocks can drop healing wells, but they're small and don't make a big fuss so allies may not see you do it, and even if they did it's on them to come and get the buff, not on the warlock to put the buff near their allies. Titans can make barricades but you can't shoot through them so most of the time they just get in your way because it wasn't you who dropped it so you weren't expecting it. It's all selfish design.

To some extent this is because the game is balanced to be playable solo, which is fine; solo shooters like Halo are in Bungie's blood. But then Strikes in Destiny put you in teams ANYWAY, and the mechanics aren't ready for it. Selfish behavior is rewarded constantly, and cooperative behavior isn't, so the playerbase is subtly nudged towards being selfish and apathetic. I think this is why nobody bothers to make comprehensive wikis with detailed information.

But here's where it comes back around to being about money.

BRING YOUR FRIENDS, BUNGIE WANTS THEIR MONEY TOO

Strikes and open world stuff forces you into playing next to other people when you don't want them and constantly remind you how much nicer this would be if you had friends to play with, but the hardest endgame content, Raids and Dungeons, DON'T. They don't merely suggest, they FORCE you to beg your friends to play Destiny with you.

One might try to argue no no no no this is about building a community, people are encouraged to actually talk to each other like human beings. Kay first of all if you want that shit so bad why are the other things all done with matchmaking then? Second of all the way I know they really desperately want new people to be able to get to Raids and Dungeons as fast as possible is because they fucking told me so.

Oops, tipped your hand there didn't you, Bungie! Behold the Gift of the Thunder Gods Treasure Chest, with its big quest marker pointing you to it. Inside they just give away for free an ENTIRE GEAR SET of Almost top level equipment, all with exactly the power requirement to do Raids and Dungeons. Most armor pieces you find lying around have an attribute total between 49 and 55, but these ALL have a nice solid 60, plus a set of three weapons, two of which are decent, and the third being THE THUNDERLORD, an extremely powerful heavy machine gun that occasionally causes giant lightning strikes. Progression? Difficulty curve? Tutorials? Story campaign? Fuck all that shit. Join up and immediately go help your whale friends do Deep Stone Crypt. Oh can't do Deep Stone Crypt because it requires the Beyond Light expansion? Don't worry, they bought it for you. How nice of them.

Thank Christ that shit finally got taken out like a few hours ago. I’m sure they’ll replace it with something similar any moment now. Or maybe they’ll wait a few months until the next season or something. I seem to remember they did something like this around the time I started playing way back; suddenly bumping everybody’s gear up to a certain power level so that new players don’t have to get used to the game before they’re roped into doing stuff.

I think this is intentional. I think Raids and Dungeons don't have matchmaking because they want to select for the people who are invested enough in the game to want to play "late game" content, and then give those a challenge that requires them to actually find people to play with, specifically so that they will go and find more people to play Destiny 2. They want all the activities to be accessible at any time because they want to maximize the amount of stuff that a new player might be roped into doing by a friend who plays a lot. They certainly don't do that for the new consumer's sake, because throwing all this shit at new players is confusing and overwhelming, not to mention makes no sense from a storytelling perspective.

ALL the grinds are long, but the late game grind for millimetric power increases and trying to get exactly the right combination of random perks or exactly the right stats on your armor is ESPECIALLY long, but more over it's EXPENSIVE, because the very best top of the ladder equipment is all price locked in expansions or seasons. Remember that solar machine gun I wanted? Are there any other solar machine guns in the entire game? Only one. It's in this dungeon, which requires the Witch Queen expansion. So basically players like me can get fucked. I find this to be horrifyingly insidious game design.

Even more insidious though is Rank Streaks. Doing these main activities earns you rank points, and you get Streaks if you play them consecutively, which increases how many rank points you get. If you go do some other activity, your streak is broken and it resets. In other words, you are rewarded for doing the same thing over and over. This is one of the worst ideas I've ever seen. It's certainly a really strong incentive to make people do the same thing over and over again, but why do you WANT people to do that? Why do you PUNISH people for wanting to do multiple activities for the variety? Is this somehow not completely backwards? Is this somehow not incredibly anti-consumer? Is this somehow not extremely toxic to the players? Especially new players, holy shit. Like fine whatever, cater to your fucking mouthbreather whales. Maybe you have enough of the dumb fucks to keep you afloat even if everybody else hates you, but your godawful community of directionless morons would be a lot healthier if you got more people to play with them. It's almost like going outside. And streaks are shared across all your characters, so you can't even have one character who does the PvP shit and another character who does Strikes. As if encouraging you to get bored of content as fast as possible wasn't dumb enough, it also forces you to mainline things you hate if you want the rewards. Not only am I forced to do Crucible and Gambit if I want the Ascendant Shards or whatever, I can't even take breaks from them because if I do I'll get punished with Even More Crucible and Gambit.

But like I said. This is selecting for a very specific type of whale. People who want variety and fun and companionship, they don't give a shit about those people. They want the people who REALLY want to get the Best Loot and want it as Fast As Possible. They want players who will do ALL the long grinds, and will pay Bungie money to let them do it faster.

And here's my last piece of damning evidence: Vaulting. Vaulting is one of the worst decisions I've ever seen a game make.

Remember what I said at the beginning about FOMO? Vaulting is how you give your entire playerbase the Fear of Missing Out, about everything, all at once, forever. Fortunately they may not ever do it again since EVERYONE hated it, except for the hardest of hardcore PvP Assholes who never do anything but crucible. THEY didn't lose shit, obviously. They even get to keep the crucible maps set on Titan and Mercury and all those other places I liked but will never see again. Fuckers.

But here's why Vaulting is so sinister. Even if they never do it again, the THREAT still looms over every part of the game now. This part of the game that you really like? This gun, or world, or mission type, or ability, or character? Guess what, it might just fucking vanish someday! Isn’t that awesome!? And we’re gonna replace it with the Cosmodrome! Or maybe with NOTHING! 

So if you want the shiny thing you'd better get it RIGHT NOW, RIGHT FUCKING NOW, GET AS MANY PEOPLE TO PLAY WITH YOU AS YOU CAN SO YOU CAN GET THE THING BEFORE WE TAKE IT AWAY FROM YOU FOREVER! Oh and you'll need the season pass and the latest expansion to get most of it give us cash.

Destiny players are driven by terror like they're the fucking Black Dog Knights.

Except me, because giving up on things is my specialty. As soon as Darktide gets polished enough to run properly on my computer I'm dropping this shit and its fat fucking hundred gig ass like it was endorsed by Trump.

EDIT: I got back into playing Hades. Hades is a fantastic game. Bye, Destiny 2!

#destiny 2 #bungie #monetization #burnout #beyond light #witch queen #season pass #gambit sucks #drifter sucks #rant #anaylsis #cayde is dead #GIMMIE BACK MY FUCKING HAMMERHEAD

[infinitefluffderg]

Jesse’s 2022 Game Review

PHowdy folks! With another year on the verge of collapse and the circus tent to be propped up a-new with a new coat of paint, it’s time to talk briefly about videos game. In the past, I made a list of my top 10 favorite games, diluted into my infamous prose heavy stylings. Not this year. Though you cannot force me away with many bars of corvid ownership from the act of getting flowery with dialogue, I’ll at least attempt terseness. Key word: attempt. Also, 5. 5′s a nice number and it’s less painful to write for.

As a quick reminder to all unfamiliar with my reviewing style: these are games that I’ve played this year that have left the largest impact on me. They aren’t games that came out this year (usually) and they aren’t games I played a lot of this year (though if they were, then DRG would be number 1). Usually I favor uniqueness and innovation over most other factors. Every game on this list is a banger and a half and gets my highest recommendation. With that squared away, let us begin.

Runners Up:

There were a LOT of great games that I played and honestly it becomes very difficult to rank games when all of them are just so damn good. So here’s a list of games in no particular order that really blew me away this year, but not enough to make the top 5.

Tropico 6

Satisfactory

Potionomics

Fight Knight

Disco Elysium

Dead Cells

The Forgotten City

5. Grounded

I play games with my boyfriend a lot. Usually, every day, if possible, we’ll sink a couple hours into our favorite multiplayer experiences. So I usually try to find us new experiences to enjoy to go alongside favorite staples. Grounded as a “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids” survival sim oozing with style and at high recommendation from others, was one I knew would be a hit even before we played it. And then we played it. Well, he played it a lot more than I did, but, I still helped out a lot.

Truthfully, Grounded is as much an RPG as a Survival Sim as you gradually update and upgrade your gear to deal with increasing challenge in this tiny world. The combat system is robust, there’s always a new unique challenge ahead of you, and the bugs are as adorable as they are horrifying. I could sleep with the little noises Ladybugs make in this game. If someone has exported all the bug sounds from this game, hit me up.

4. Super Animal Royale

Like I said in the last game choice, my boyfriend and I play together a lot, so we look for fun multiplayer experiences. SAR was his choice, and one he picked up because free is always welcome. And yeah, SAR knocks it out of the park. Not only is the gameplay well balanced and a thrill to fight online in, but it also manages to create one of the rare Free To Play experiences where you really want to pay the devs money just to support their game.

Nothing gameplay-wise is locked behind a fee, everything you would spend real money on is cosmetic. Plus, if you did like cosmetics, it’s super easy to get enough premium currency by playing the game to afford one of their battlepasses. These passes don’t expire too! You can always go back and level older passes if cosmetics in one season stood out more than other ones. If you’re interested in a cute animal top down and haven’t given SAR a try yet, there’s really no better time than now.

3. Ultrakill

I listen to Ultrakill’s OST on and off when I need something higher energy while I work on complicated projects. Similarly, Ultrakill is the most stylish FPS with Quake graphics I’ve played/witnessed. It runs off rule of cool similarly to its direct inspiration - Devil May Cry. And it all plays so damn smooooooooth.

My boyfriend (don’t tire of me talking about him, we do games together A LOT) is considerably better at this game than I am and I feel like I judge some of my opinions over how much he plays a game. At writing, he has P ranked the entire game on all difficulties, and Cyber Grinds (endless mode) for the fun of it. He’s gotten to Wave 25 I think? I’ll need to check with him again sometime. Anyways, he’ll show me how P-2 looks since his ability is on a whole other level.

2. Yakuza 0

I finally dipped my toes into Yakuza this year and HOOOOOOLY SHIT I was unprepared for what would be a hell of an experience. As someone who has played through Kiwami and about a third of Kiami 2 (remakes of the first and second games), 0 is the absolute best way to hook someone on the series. As the title suggests, it’s a prologue introducing the back stories for the two main runners of Kiryu’s ongoing quest to be a positive influence in the lives of orphans and others. And live. An amazing soap opera thriller crime drama that hits incredible heights constantly throughout its running, silly grade-A side stories, a solid difficulty curve, and much much more.

And by starting with 0, you get the amazing build up to go with it. 0′s incredible story helps temper the lows of the Kiwami remake (which is still a good game, don’t get me wrong) so that you can bounce back into the amazing engine update utilized for Kiwami 2. It’s just a good-ass game people.

1. Super Mario Odyssey

If you told me last year that this was going to be my number one game, I’d call you crazy. As someone who doesn’t easily fall in love with AAA games, preferring indie titles, the idea that Super Mario Odyssey would be such a must-play would have been completely dismissed. But no, over so many many other games I played this year, Super Mario Odyssey is the clear superior. SMO runs on high moments, everything has been so well planned out and the world is big without being overwhelming. This. This felt like the natural evolution of what Mario 64 was. And if you’ve been noting how much I’ve gushed over this year for the last month, then it should come to no surprise that it’s here at the top of my list. Everything was planned and perfected with such clear purpose it’s perplexing.

When this game came out alongside A Hat in Time, I felt that Hat would be superior because it controlled in a way that I wished Mario did. With mid-air dive cancels, a really really fun world to explore, a funny story with great characters. It was only this year, three years later, that I found that Odyssey not only did all that, it did it better. (Well, the writing of Hat is better, but...)

Anyways, if you are interested in a Switch, Odyssey is worth getting a Switch for. Though, admittedly, more if you’re the kind of person who adores adventurous open worlds in a collect-a-thon platform setting.

This is what AAA gaming should be. Anything else pales.

#long winded #rambling about videos game #i just really love videos game guys

[wickedbaggins]

Year End Wrap-ups

Why not. Here’s the first list. Games I played a lot of, but absolutely will not finish in the next week. Because they’re huge games.

cyberpunkdreams A Fallen London clone, i.e. a text RPG where the primary gameplay is clicking on storylets (i.e. "I am scouring the streets for resources") and slowly building up qualities and trading them for other qualities, i.e. a story-rich grind game. This certainly has a better balance of story-to-grind than the endless middle of Fallen London than I'm stuck on. It also does some interesting things with gender presentation and I'm not even 100% sure I hate how deliberate every major and many minor actions have to be (are you dressed appropriately to go to that place? Do you have enough bullets to do this thing?). It is, however, still a lot of grind and a lot of grind in a really aggressively unpleasant setting and a lot of grind in a game with permadeath. There's more than a seed of something really good here, but it's also kind of a drain to play in every way. Done with it again. Elden Ring Ah yes, the game that finally pushed me into the "oh, I can play difficult action RPGs" bucket and also, really, "I enjoy difficult action RPGs". I'm not great at playing on our PS5 and have just picked this up again on PC, the better to start it again with a somewhat-less magic-heavy build, and it's a fun and compelling game. Part of what makes it great is the horsie. Fantastic horsie. Fast as thought and jumps like a hare. Zipping across the map rather than careful, iterative progression is a joy and what makes this From Software game by far the most accessible. Kynseed A life sim more than a farming sim, and sort of a hodgepodge of systems at that. The narrative appears to be largely "uh, keep engaging with our systems and numbers will tick up", but it is enjoyable for all that. The combat is chunky and on the difficult side, and the pixel art is incredible and if you don't really feel like farming, it's a pretty small percentage of what you do. The mini-games -- well, they're trying to rebalance them. One day I may successfully make jam. Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Second attempt's the charm, I guess. It's a marvelous game to wander around, but the horsie is not as good as in Elden Ring, which is a bit of a problem. On the other hand, glider. Wonderful glider. Get up high and go soaring over the landscape. There is also a plot which is engaging, it is, but I do honestly find any interruption to exploring the map a comparative chore. Monster Hunter Rise The ultimate kill-beautiful-monsters-to-make-pants simulator and it's a lot of fun with great designs. Some real pathos in killing these magnificent creatures, though. Humans-as-endurance predators. Sometimes hard to hear the frustrated, furious wail as I corner some great fur-or-feathered scaly thing in its den yet again. Nioh 2 Hard-as-shit, but more generous than a from software game in giving you tons of gear and anima-soul-bits. Colorful, too, palette of greens and reds, over-the-top storytelling that's still elliptical and hard to follow. You turn into a yokai but it helps less than you might think. :( A good time. Meditative in a strange way. Lots of weapon variety. also dress-up elements. Red Dead Redemption 2 The great cowboy life-sim and dress-up game where you do in fact have to shoot people sometimes and ruin your groove of dominos-playing, theater-watching, and sunset ambling. Should actually approach the plot again. Horsies are of course essential. Don’t leave home without one. Stardew Valley Finally dug into this 'un, but didn't quite complete a year of game time on the Switch. Gonna restart on PC with some mods to get the full-plus-extra experience now. I'm starting to sort of get the groove of farming sims, if I still don't understand why this particular one sits so high for so many people. Really like fishing mini-games, maybe?? Witcher 3 Wild Hunt I've played it before! Here I am playing it again. Turns out I forgot huge chunks of this huge-ass RPG with dozens and dozens of short stories appended to its main quest and it's a pleasure to revisit, even if I don't have any appreciation for the Bloody Baron storyline in This Year of Hells. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 I may still want it to be Xenoblade X, but I actually like this cast of 3, even if I do get less interested in the main plot as it continues (a common problem). The main antagonists are appealingly bonkers and making each settlement its own node with its own successive sidequests is a good touch. The landscape is beautiful and endless. I write about it and do want to go back to it. Perhaps after Harvestella??

#cyberpunkdreams #elden ring #kynseed #breath of the wild #nioh 2 #monster hunter rise #red dead redemption 2 #stardew valley #witcher wild hunt #xenoblade chronicles 3

[theointernship]

8. Your overall reflections on the internship and your studies.

The internship experiences I had were an absolute blast and really had a good blend of media work remotely, in person, as a team and working autonomously. Now there are a wealth of connections and work done by myself that all go towards my experience and help me improve every day, and the growth from before the internship is immense.

Not to forget the Melbourne Aces experience which was very hands on but most importantly the matchday experience taught me a lot about the background workings of a professional game. Seeing Josh and Woodsy managing the scoreboard and sounds whilst Tony announces perfectly like he has always done. Having a long conversation with Michael the American broadcaster who came over to Melbourne just for the summer was another great experience as I ease my way into the broadcasting world. 

For my studies, over the two and a half years so far, I have amassed some valuable hard and soft skills that has for sure transformed me from the clueless kid I was going in at 18.

The digital media and broadcasting classes with Davin have been the most useful, really improving on my previously poor Photoshop, Premiere Pro and Audition skills.

Recently the preparation to internship classes with Sharyn were extremely helpful in now writing a fantastic and engaging cover letter as well as improving my interviewing skills with the mock assignment we had to complete. My resume has always been quite dry and never utilised until I understood its importance and with the help of Sharyn and some classmates, it is looking very presentable. Still room for improvement for sure which will come post-grad as I start applying for full time positions that require a sense of professionalism.

The journalism and writing classes in the city with Peter Rolfe have been the most fun with an introduction to journalism and the basics of writing like hierarchy and importance of presenting facts with impartiality and neutrality.

Other aspects of the degree like Sponsorship, Marketing and Advertising were also extremely busy subjects that required a ton of group work to be completed to a high standard. The presentations and endless nights grinding away at the final assignment were long but was another valuable skill.

Overall just been a great experience making friends, meeting some awesome lecturers and getting some real world experience in the industry has made it all so worthwhile.  

#Youtube