thinkin abt eijiro x loud!partner again. (thx @dcsiremc 🙄)
like. he’s not embarrassed or put off by someone that can’t hold back because it’s not like he holds back either.
i’m thinkin abt the moment when you’re comfortable enough to go further in your relationship, so you’re blunt and tell him you’re loud before things go too far. it’s more of a warning than anything, and he doesn’t tease because he can see that it genuinely bothers you. but the fact that you’ve been made insecure by some asshole who told you to “stop trying so hard,” and “aren’t you embarrassed?” about something he hasn’t yet told you he loves puts him on a mission to shake your insecurity to the core.
so when the time comes, at first eijiro lets you hide your face or try to muffle the sound when he slides in. and fuck, he’s so big that just him pushing in has you clamping your mouth shut as you blush hard. but he groans just the same, and without even saying it he shows you that you’re not alone. he’s not going to force it this time by pulling your hands away and holding them down even though he desperately wants to hear every pretty sound you can make.
no, it’s all tender kisses until your lips are swollen and each sensitive spot on your neck has your body shuddering. it’s sweet words and moaning into your skin like he can’t get enough of you. it’s letting you hide yourself in his arms instead of hiding yourself from him.
“fuck, that’s it, angel. let daddy hear your pretty voice. i fucking love it. give it to me. i need to hear you, so fucking perfect…. please don’t hide from me, baby. I need my pretty girl’s sweet moans…. that’s my girl. you’re all mine, let me have you. just let go….”
gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @mhadabiandhawks4eva @aria-chikage @stuff-i-like905
if you’d like to be added to my tag list or you somehow got missed, let me know. ♡
550 notes
·
View notes
severus is a better person than me, bcs he could've gone on his cute death eater mask and attire, sorted james and sirius' location, crucio them a bit before murdering them, and yet he never did. people like to talk about severus as though as if he was the worst human being in hp, but he never took actual revenge on the golden boys, or they wouldn't have lived past 18 if he did, duh.
"snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year."
so what, sirius! did you ever die? were you damaged permanently? no???? then shut the fuck up! severus was supposed to be an expert on dark arts, surely had the means to do horrendous stuff with all his knowledge, and he still didn't, even after joining the death eaters he still had more regard for life than sirius did when he sent severus to the shrieking shack.
god, sometimes i wish severus was as awful as people think he was. the same guy who was worried for his soul if he killed the only person he appreciated, which was probably very fucking hard for him to do.
723 notes
·
View notes
I wonder what happened to the Wesninski house in Baltimore. It was definitely roped off as a crime scene for a long time but eventually it had to go somewhere and Neil’s the only beneficiary it could really go to.
Do you think it enters his custody and there are plenty of people who want to buy it, either because it’s a nice house or because ‘it’s the BUTCHER’S house’ and they want to turn it into a tourist attraction. Neil’s getting bombarded with real estate, city planning, victims advocacy, etc.
Maybe it’s only Neil’s 3rd year that he gets possession of it and he’s already stressed because it’s his 1st year as a captain and he needs to show the Moriyamas and the professional teams that he is worth investing in.
Maybe Andrew sees all of this and reaches out. Maybe all of the OG Foxes brave Baltimore one more time and maybe they spend all of Spring Break destroying every single nice thing that house ever had. For the Foxes it’s just fun to break shit, for Neil it’s destroying and rejecting his father’s legacy, he’s desecrating his father’s grave, it’s the most cathartic thing he’s ever done in his entire life and that includes telling Riko off his freshman year. They shatter chandeliers, furniture, appliances (the gas is well and truly turned off), watches, jewelry, clothes, plates, glasses, and anything they can find and destroy.
Allison has a running tab on who has done the most in property damage. The one who wins is Matt because he brought his own sledgehammer to the party.
Maybe the Foxes help Neil destroy his father’s legacy but also...maybe Dan grabs pictures of Nathaniel smiling at the camera with a missing tooth.
Maybe Nicky finds a recipe book hand written from Nathaniel’s maternal grandmother hoping her grandson will like them and it is set aside to be saved.
Maybe Matt finds a hidden corner where Nathaniel had drawn on the wall in crayon and he cuts out that chunk of drywall.
Maybe Aaron finds some letters Mary wrote to Stuart about what a good boy Nathaniel is and he pockets them.
Maybe Renee finds a stuffed animal with a missing eye and carries it to safety.
Maybe Kevin finds a set of child Exy equipment that goes into the Maserati.
Maybe Allison finds children’s clothes that have been sewn back together because the person who wore them loved them so much so she puts them in her purse.
Maybe Andrew finds a tiny bloody hand print in the basement and Andrew’s hand eclipses the hand of the bleeding child who left it and Andrew doesn’t forget things but the thought is easier when Neil’s hands engulf his when they hold them later that night.
Maybe the Foxes go and save every piece of Nathaniel they can from that house. Nathan can rot there, Neil is having the house demolished in a week and then he’ll sell the land to the Baltimore parks department.
But maybe Nathaniel’s grave is somewhere else. Maybe they let him rest somewhere other than Baltimore. Maybe Neil can’t take anything they had saved from that house yet so Nathaniel’s memories rest with them until Neil can take it.
711 notes
·
View notes
kicking my feet giggling so hard about price breaking down a total bitch into his bitch. yeah. anon who said that ur a genius. just breaking down and shattering a woman's psyche and reshaping it into an obedient, sweet little pet? purely for the power trip???? they need to strengthen the bars of my enclosure i am breaching containment
- 🪶
i've just been STARING at this ask because i dont know what to add like. yeah. i am fucking insane for this horribly cruel and mean version of price. i actually hate him and need him dead.
won't talk about this price too much because it's a little darker/meaner than i usually like :)
he's soooo fucking mean, so fucking harsh. horribly rough punishments for the slightest infractions, wants you to feel like you're on eggshells constantly.
wants you conditioned to think constantly of him and his wants and needs, never your own. keeps you locked up in a chastity belt and only unlocks it to fuck you or let you use the bathroom, never lets you cum. gotta teach his bitch that her pleasure is entirely unimportant :/ maybe even fucks your ass more than your pussy because he knows you hate it
makes you into a total housewife - cooking, cleaning, the whole nine yards. big bad bitch standing naked except for an apron and making his favorite meal
keeps you in a posture collar - no slouching around him, you'll show him the respect he deserves
stuffs a cock gag into her throat and doesn't let her speak for days. only takes it out to shove food and water down her throat, never any other time. beats her soundly if she tries to speak during those breaks. gets her throat trained up nicely for him too
98 notes
·
View notes
"It wasn't time that did it."
Joel’s voice is so shaky and small, yet somehow full of so much fucking emotion that Ellie thinks she might get crushed underneath it all. If the thought didn’t scare the shit out of her, she thinks she would call it love. Love and care and trust and all of that other gooey shit that made her want to burst into tears at the very thought. Now, Joel sits in front of her, baring his fucking soul to her, and she suddenly gets what Riley meant all those months ago. Ellie didn’t belong anywhere. Not until Joel. Maybe it was fate, maybe it’s just plain luck. Whatever it is, he flinched all those years ago, and she survived that bite, and they’ve been hurtling towards this moment ever since.
The one where Joel chokes on his words, and she feels every ounce of the unsaid words. Time didn’t heal his wounds. She did. Because she’s his. And he’s hers. Because they somehow found each other in this terrible fucking world, and nobody has ever made her feel like this. Safety. Belonging.
She isn’t sure what to say. Isn’t really sure if there’s anything she can say. Ellie just hopes he can tell how much this fucking means to her. How much he means to her. He’s everything. He’s been everything for months now. The way he’s looking at her now, like she’s his everything too, it might make her start crying. There aren’t words to describe this. Not ones she’s been taught. Not ones anyone has said to her before. Maybe there were words for this twenty years ago. Maybe there are even words for it still, just not used for people like her. She’s too rough for anyone to get too close to.
Anyone except Joel. They match like that. Too rough and stubborn for their own good. They match. She’ll hurt for him, and he’ll tear up a town for her, and they’ll find their way back to each other. They always do. They always will.
All those months ago, he said she wasn’t his daughter, and he sure as hell wasn’t her dad. That doesn’t really feel true anymore. It hasn’t felt true since Silver Lake. Since she threw herself into his arms and he whispered soft promises and terms of endearment as he held her. It didn’t even really feel true when he said it, if she’s being honest. Things like fathers and daughters, that won’t ever be something she truly understands, but she thinks this is the closest she’ll ever get.
No. She knows this is the closest she'll ever get. Because, even if they don't address, even if the thought makes her feel a bit like she's wearing a too tight-too itchy wool sweater, they're family. They belong.
“Oh,” Ellie breathes out finally.
The words go unspoken. They both understand regardless.
77 notes
·
View notes
Now on AO3!
"Hob," Dream called out, in that tone. It was a tone that Hob had learned meant that Dream was confused, utterly and entirely, but he didn't want to admit it. Hob was, as always, more than happy to help. It wasn't often that his lover asked for help and while he couldn't exactly call Dream's odd and often ill-timed questions pleas for help, he knew Dream's understanding of the Waking often depended on his steadfast and reliable answers.
"Yes, love?"
"What is this... Goncharov?"
Hob was suddenly very glad that Dream was lounging on the couch, safely out of sight of the kitchen, where Hob was currently questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. He placed his mug of coffee (thankfully empty enough to have not spilled all over him during his knee-jerk, full-body convulsion of silent laughter at his lover's question) on the counter (to save it from further spillage risks) and, once he had schooled his face as best as he could, popped his head around the corner to glance at Dream, who was engrossed in something on Hob's phone. Scrolling through social media, no doubt, given the topic at hand.
"It's uhh... a movie from the 70's, if I remember correctly," Hob said, as smoothly as possible. "Something about the mafia? It was sort of a cult classic, but I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. It had it's little blip of fame and then faded back into obscurity pretty quickly. Why?"
"It has gained something of a resurgence, it seems," Dream mused without looking up, a fact that Hob was eternally grateful for. He wasn't sure his facial expression was even remotely close to anything that could be called innocent. One glance from Dream and the game would be up. "There have been many dreams about it in the past few days. Something about clocks and apples and lit cigarettes. I was simply wondering after your opinion on it."
"Oh, it was Al Pacino in his prime. It came out right before The Godfather, if I remember correctly. God, I haven't heard anything about it in years," Hob lied through his teeth, trying desperately to keep the grin off of his lips and the laughter from bubbling up in his chest. "Might be fun to rewatch it. Like I said, it kind of flopped when it came out; I'm glad that it's getting the attention it deserves, even if it is fifty years too late."
At that, Dream did look up, something like affront in his eyes.
"There is no such thing as too late for a story, Hob," he said, not unkindly. "A story always has time to be told. So long as the story remains, its message persists. The revival of a story is an inevitability in its lifetime; they never die, they simply twist and evolve. That this particular story is garnering such avid, new attention after so long is a comfort."
Well, now Hob felt bad. His playful teases shriveled in the face of such a display of sincerity and emotion from his beloved. It burned through Hob's heart, scorching away the last traces of mirth and leaving only soft love in its wake. It must have shown in his face, in the quirk of his fond smile, in the gentle warmth of his eyes, because Dream set his phone aside and reached a hand out, an invitation and demand all in one, and Hob snorted lightly. You could take the Endless out of the Dreaming, but you couldn't take the Dreaming out of the Endless; he was a King through and through. Luckily for Dream, Hob was as devoted as a knight and he went easily, as if pulled by puppet strings to Dream's side.
---
Later, loose-limbed and buried under a veritable mountain of blankets in Hob's bed and embrace, Dream was back to scrolling. Hob didn't hold it against him--being disconnected from the Waking world for so long must have been disorienting, especially with the technological advances of the twentieth and twenty-first century, and Hob couldn't answer every question his lover had. The internet was by far the better source of niche information and Hob was humble enough to admit it.
He could feel the moment, however, that the internet betrayed him. Dream stiffened in his arms and Hob bit at the inside of his lips to keep from chuckling.
"You are many things, Hob Gadling," Dream said lowly, "but I never took you for a liar."
And then Hob really did laugh. He couldn't help it; it rose in his stomach like champagne bubbles, bursting with tinkling joy. By the time he caught his breath, there were tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and Dream was huffing in laughter next to him.
"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to," Hob gasped, breathless from the hilarity of the situation. "It was just-"
"A meme," Dream said, all traces of anger gone from his voice. "So this Goncharov, it never existed?"
"I'm afraid not."
"That is a shame," Dream mused. "I had found myself quite looking forward to seeing it."
Hob pressed his lips, and with them, his fond smile, to Dream's hair.
"Perhaps you could inspire its creation," he said. "After all, stories must start somewhere, right?"
And if Hob dreamed of a flickering flame igniting two cigarettes, of bloody hands clenched around a gun, of a clock tower in the snow, well... he had always suspected that his sleeping mind was Dream's testing ground. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would reap the benefits of Dream's tests. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, Goncharov would take shape and take hold in someone's mind. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would be able to see Goncharov in all of its revived glory.
But for now, it was merely a dream, a whisper of potential in a collective mind. Perhaps, one day...
153 notes
·
View notes