#[vibrates intensely] the lads.

[sabuleum]

@dcviated / wylan said:

"The downside of kicking the door down is... welp, you can't exactly lock it behind you! So much for privacy."

...they're reminded, however briefly, of some similarly chiding words from their wife (cushioned in barely-stifled laughter); the catalyst which ultimately resulted in there being no real doors to speak of in the Adherent's home. today: she grumbles.

❝ the only downside is that our pal wasn't behind the door when it came down... if privacy was so important to them, maybe they shouldn't have fucked around and started trying to summon some company. ❞ —especially when those guests were as unruly as the creatures recently ransacking the nearby town. at least there was no sight of the ugly little skirges inside the meager residence, either; however satisfying they might be to crush, the pair 'd had their fill in days prior.

❝ ...caught wind we were coming, I guess. hmph. ❞ Emké sighed; resigning to the fact that they'd have to play detective a little longer. ❝ but it doesn't seem like they took much with them. come on, let's kick around and see if we can find something useful. ❞

[acciojaeyun]

sleepless nights ; jake sim smut

pairing: sim jaeyun / jake x fem!reader genre: smut (minors dni)

jake pretty much lives the common stereotype of engineering students: smart in both physics and mathematics and sleep deprived. and while everyone has studying to blame, jake pretty much places the blame on you: who couldn’t – for god’s sake – couldn’t keep your moans to yourself.

warnings: sub!jake, mommy kink, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v (unprotected, but reader is taking pills) a bit of perv!jake if you squint. let me know if i missed something! words: 2.3k

While every engineering student have plates and lectures to blame for their all-nighters, whether caffeinated or not – Jake Sim has a different reason why he kept on yawning during his lecture on fluid mechanics, and that was his pretty roommate: you, of course.

No, it wasn’t because you distract him whenever he made his plates in the dining room whenever he needed a change of scenery from his usual study area (his room); it also wasn’t because you were too goddamn pretty that whenever he zones out while trying to understand the Freundlich and Langmuir isotherm constants, he finds himself staring at you. 

In fact, he was blaming you for not realising that the walls between yours and his room were thin, that meant, whenever you were too horny to contain yourself from not touching your aching pussy, he hears everything. 

In fact, he was blaming you for not realising that the walls between yours and his room were thin, that meant, whenever you were too horny to contain yourself from not touching your aching pussy, he hears everything. 

Jake must contain himself some of the times whenever he hears you whimper, but most of the times he cannot help but feel the urge to masturbate with you when your moans got louder. 

It was if you were giving him a taste of your sound without you realising it.

And just like every other night, Jake, for the nth time this week, was stirred awake by your suppressed whines. Jake was half amused and half pissed, he was about to have an in-campus reporting about the latest group project; and while he was confident about his knowledge regarding it, he wasn’t confident enough whether he’ll be able to answer possible questions thrown by the professor with no sleep.

You, on the other hand, are having the time of your life as you grinded on the small vibrator you had pushed against your dripping core. Imagining it was Jake, your roommate, rather than your fingers or the small vibrating device. Yes, you had a crush on your roommate – who could blame you? 

However, you couldn’t let Jake know that you were head over heels attracted and in love with him. Little did you know, your whines and moans somehow gave you away to the suspecting lad. But, true to Jake’s respectful nature, he acknowledged boundaries, and was too respectful enough to not bring up whatever he hears every night.

But just like how all good things come to an end, you felt your heartbeat increase not from pleasure but from panic as you realise the intensity of your vibrator was decreasing, notifying you that it would go out in a while.

“Shit, shit, shit, no!” you whined as you desperately humped against it in the hopes of catching your orgasm before it shuts down. But against your sheer luck, the vibrator had died down before you could feel the coil tighten at your belly.

You groaned, “For fuck’s sake.” 

You tiptoed outside of your room to search your whole apartment for batteries. Going through every cabinet in the living room (you almost wanted to check the TV remote and Jake’s gaming console, but you were not that desperate, not yet), but you haven’t found any.  And it wasn’t until you ventured to the kitchen in the hopes of finding spare when you saw Jake leaning against the counter in deep thought with a glass of water in his hand.

“Jake! What are you doing here?” you squealed.

The boy looked at you with furrowed brows before licking his lips, “I could ask the same to you.”

“It’s – it’s nothing, I was just looking for something.”

“What was it?”

“It’s fine, I could just look for it tomorrow,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Well, the fact that you look annoyed means that you need it right now.”

“Jake, just drop it,” you said as you still went on opening every cupboard and pulling every drawer just to find a pair of AA batteries just so you could get your much-deserved orgasm for tonight after your assessment in Medieval English and related literatures – which you weren’t entirely confident in.

“What is it that you’re looking for? I could help you with it.” He offered as he placed his empty glass down on the counter.

“Batteries,” you blushed.

“Double A ones? We’ve run out, I used the last pair in our wall clock.”

Great, now you were feeling more frustrated than ever. “It’s fine,” you convinced Jake, but more so convincing yourself. How could you feel relieved this day? First academic distress, and now we have sexual distress to top it off. Clearly, today wasn’t your very lucky day.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not fine, babe,” he says as he sits on the marble counter of your kitchen, “you’ve gotten all worked up, you know you could tell all the noises inside your head, right?”

“I –“ you looked at him with eyebrows raised, were you just hallucinating the innuendo that seeped through his words?

It was only then had you noticed that Jake had discarded his top. His dark hair in a sloppy mess that made him look ten times attractive, his grey sweatpants hanging loose just about his v-line, leaving everything up to imagination.

“I’ve been just so frustrated, Jake. All I bloody want is a release, like my God, I just want to come to let all my frustrations out.” You groaned as you leaned against the kitchen island, burying your face in your hands.

Jake cleared his throat, “No judgment, Y/N,” he clarifies, “but, I could help? That is, if you want me to?”

You almost choked on your saliva at his words. Did you hear him correctly? Him, Sim Jaeyun, is offering you to help you out in your sexual frustrations? That were merely caused by him and his oozing sex appeal?

God, you wish you were dreaming.

But the same man walking towards you to trap you against the kitchen island with both of his arms on either side of your body countered your thoughts inside your head. He ghosted his lips against your cheek, his warm breath fanning across your jaw as you tried to calm your frantic heart. 

You whimpered at the proximity, and you pulled him by his shoulders to meet his plump lips which you have daydreamed for so long. You kissed him feverishly, hands immediately flying to his hair as his hands held on to the back of your thigh to place you on the countertop.

He pulled away and bit his lip before diving to your neck, sucking, licking, and kissing every inch of skin before pulling away to meet your face, “I need a ‘yes,’” he says as he traces his index finger over your swollen lips.

You licked his index finger which caused goosebumps to rise over his skin, “Yes, baby, you could help mommy out,” you said, implying your name over the boy, whose eyes have darkened into a much deeper shade of brown at the mention of your name.

All Jake ever wanted from now on was to please you – to be your good boy.

Jake immediately went back to attacking your neck with kissing and sucking, making you moan out his name whenever he does so. Your pussy has started clenching on nothing because of how much turned on you were. You wanted Jake, hell, you wanted Jake so badly. 

“I want to come, Jake, can you make mommy come?” you asked as you palmed his erection over his grey sweatpants, eliciting a groan from him.

The boy nodded, “Yes, mommy, I can, I can.”

He took no time in massaging your breasts over your oversized shirt after pulling your body closer to him, his face leaning in as he made out with you as you contained your moans. His free hand held your neck to keep your face in place as he started grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your clothed cunt was enough to make you lose all forms of sanity.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked as he pulled away, a string of your mixed saliva following the plumpness of his lips, to which you nodded before pulling back slightly to make his task easier.

“Mommy, you’re so sexy,” he breathed out before plunging his mouth in between your breasts, eyes meeting you as he crouched down, turning you on more than ever as how he looked so fucking small licking the skin between your breasts. He took his time licking the flesh around your nipple before giving it attention, his mouth sucking your areola as harsh as he could ever.

“Oh, fuck me,” you whined as his finger started handling the unattended breast, slapping the side of it while pinching your nipple which elicited a squeal from you. “Jake, you’re doing so great for mommy,” you said as you pushed some of his hair away from his face.

Jake moaned in recognition before smiling up at you as his hands took a hold at the waistbands of your pyjamas, he giggled as he pulled them down, and he almost came at the sight of your drenched underwear.

“See that, baby?” you teased as you hoisted his face to meet your gaze, “my pussy’s all wet because of you.”

The boy licked his lips at your statement before pulling your underwear down at the ground for you to both worry about later. He pulled your hips towards his face for him to have an easier access to your dripping cunt. He leaned in, giving your clit kitten licks which made your body jolt against the sensation.

“Don’t tease mommy, sweetie,” you threatened, to which Jake obliged. He went down to lick a bold stripe from your vagina up to your clit, obtaining a strangled groan from you. You fucking dreamed of this, having to have his tongue lick your pussy that you knew was only wet every time you masturbated at the thought of him.

He devoured your cunt like a man starved, his tongue prodding over your entrance to lick up towards your clit wherein he would shake his head sideways to give you different sensations from his sinful ministrations. 

“You know how to use your tongue well, don’t you?” you breathed as you rolled your eyes almost to the back of your head.

Not a long while after, you let out a scream as you felt his finger intrude your entrance, pushing and pulling back his middle finger until his ring finger joined in before standing up to meet your lips in a French kiss while he fucked your pussy with two of his fingers in, the tips of his fingers making a “come here” motion as he thrusted his hand inside you.

“Fuck, Jake, you’re going to make mommy come, fuck – don’t stop,”

“Go, mommy, make a mess on your baby’s fingers,” he urged, fastening his pace before leaning down to your breasts again for him to suck on. You squealed at the simulation he was giving you. Sooner enough, you’ve felt the coil in your belly snap as you came around on his fingers, Jake groaning at the sight of your cum gathering on his digits.

“Look at me, baby,” you said, pulling his face towards you to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.” You said as you looked in his eyes.

Jake gulped and nodded, before pulling his fingers out. “Want to taste, mommy?” he asked, placing his fingers in front of your mouth, to which you accepted, sucking his fingers clean before kissing him to give him a taste of your cum.

“You taste heavenly, mommy,” he blushed as he pulled his sweats down. 

“Baby, you’re big, how’s that going to fit me?” you groaned at the dick that sprung out as his pants were also pulled down. “Gonna make it fit inside me, ‘no?” you asked, to which he nodded.

He bit his lip as his tip tapped your clit before lining himself up in your entrance. He met your eyes, asking permission for the last time before you nodded. He inched himself in, earning a breathy moan from you as you held the nape of his neck to bring him closer to you.

“Holy fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, biting on your shoulder to stop himself from thrusting before you could adjust. “You’re so big,” you replied, “you can move now.”

Jake pulled away to look at where his dick is buried inside you, he pulled out slightly before slowly thrusting back in, building a consistent rhythm. At first, his thrusts were cautious, slow, yet deep; but, as he felt the craving to make you come again for the second time because of him, his thrusts became faster as it had gone deeper. His hand snaked around your waist as his spare hand placed your leg on his shoulder, the new angle hitting places inside of your desperate cunt.

A string of incoherent praises and cuss words were all splurged out from your mouth, egging Jake on as he fucked you into the night. He groaned and moaned with his face scrunched up and his eyes sewed shut at the immense pleasure he was feeling right now.

“Gonna come,” Jake announced as you felt his thrusts became sloppy, and it was just about time when you felt you were about to come too. “Me too, baby, come with mommy, come on,” you urged him as you clenched around his dick, helping him to chase his release with you.

You both cry each of your names as you both come undone, his warm cum mixing with yours as you feel him still inside you, dick still buried deep. You both stayed in this position, his sweaty forehead against the crook of your neck as you calmed each of your erratic heartbeats.

“Did so well for mommy,” you whispered as you kissed his hair, making him smile against your skin. 

“Y/N?” he asked after a while to which you hummed in acknowledgement.

Jake took a deep breath, “Go out with me?”

You could not say no.

[silverstarsheep]

Honestly I 100% imagine the 'bed' FP got 'given' was actually the dingy old sofa that Peppino barely even remembers where he got it from it's been so long. He just got an extra pillow and found a blanket and called it a 'bed'.

But (judging from how his 'place' in the tower looked) I doubt FP has ever really been "given" things before, or at least not without some kind of 'you owe me now' kinda hook to it. So when given the 'bed' he just... starts shaking and crying intensely like a little dog because he's so happy!!!! He just!! No idea how to express it right!! There's so much happy in that goop body!!! aaaaaaaaa!!! [intense happy vibrations]!!!!!! Such a good lad!!

awwwwwwwwwwwwwww yesss that's super adorable, hahaha. poor fake pep, only ever given the worst of the seconds, it's nice to get a hand-me-down that actually functions the way it's supposed to! and given out of care, at that! imagine his reaction to giving him something completely brand new, that'd be so wild for him.....

love and joy is stored within the sentient goop pile

[belltrigger]

Hmmm Stop for the lads 🤔🤔 maybe bot emmet and botmaker Ingo :U? Or ehehe you could do yemmet and oingo 😤😤😤

-Send me a “Stop” and I’ll write a drabble about one character calming the other down (from anger, jealously, etc)

Hello!!! Stop, hm~? q(≧▽≦q) Okay okay let's see what I can do here.

Title: Just Call Me Emmet Word count: 1,196 Synopsis: Emmet has arrived in Hisui with relatively little issue. However, a habit that Ingo has unconsciously picked up has accidentally upset Emmet. Dynamic: NoboKuda, older Ingo/younger Emmet (Oingo/Yemmet)

~~*~~

"Hey Ingo?"

Emmet's light voice broke the gentle silence that had settled between them as they prepared dinner together. It was a welcome change from how Emmet had sounded when he first arrived in Hisui, tired and tattered, exhausted after a search he'd thought would go on forever. The manic joy he'd shown when it finally registered that he'd found Ingo had smoothed into a beaming happiness as Emmet firmly grasped the idea that Ingo was not going to disappear again.

It was natural enough to welcome Emmet into the house given to him by Irida-sama. Memories or not, the easy comfort he had with Emmet could not be ignored, and the idea of Emmet living with him felt right. Despite not seeing each other for so long (longer for him, with the physical changes that came along with it), they fell into an natural rhythm. Though Ingo only barely remembered him, it didn't deter Emmet. Every day, his twin smiled brightly at him, and told him a little bit more about their shared life before Ingo had vanished. Although he refrained from doing it in public, substituted with merely brushing their knuckles together when they stood close enough, Emmet held his hand whenever possible in their home. Emmet spoke warmly of their closeness, and had even revealed the truth of their relationship. In addition to being twins, they were also lovers, and that Ingo had been the one to first confess.

As honest and true as it felt, Ingo thought it improper to reveal the nature of their relationship to those around them. So, he introduced Emmet as his brother to everyone he knew, and his twin's easy cheer endeared him to nearly everyone they met. If anyone thought it odd that Emmet stood so close to him, then they kept it to themselves.

Today, though, Emmet had met Melli. The long-haired man had long proven himself willing to cause trouble for others just to hassle Ingo, but it would have been rude to exclude him from meeting Emmet. After all, his issue with Melli was solely because his mischief caused safety concerns for other people. Emmet was an adult, and astute at reading people, so he should be free to create his own opinion of others.

"Why does Melli dislike you?" Emmet casually chopped some vegetables, only looking up at Ingo when he'd paused cutting and set down the knife.

"Hm, I honestly cannot fathom his reason." Where Emmet had been in charge of the vegetables, Ingo worked on preparing the stock for their stew. "Gaeric-sama believed he wanted my attention, but that seems like a pretty fool-hardy way to receive it."

Emmet made a sound, one that Ingo could not place. It was like a hum in thought caught in the throat, smothered in an attempt to hide it. Glancing up in confusion, his eyebrows knit together at the state his twin was in.

He could practically see Emmet vibrate, expression somehow becoming more intense despite his lips still turned up in a v-shaped smile. The young man who looked like he must surely have once, when he was easily decades younger, watched him without blinking. It was almost like staring down an angry Alpha pokemon.

"Emmet-sama?"

The smile on Emmet's face stiffened more. "Emmet. I am Emmet." Ingo tilted his head in confusion, sure that was what he'd said. The name was firm in his heart, a knowledge that had been just on the edges of his faded and blurred memories from before.

"Yes," Ingo said softly, trying to gauge where Emmet was going with his sudden mood change. Emmet turned to him, hands balled into fists at his side. He'd not realized the meeting with Melli had angered him so much.

But, instead of anger like he'd anticipated, Emmet's expression started to crumple. Although the smile remained, the skin under his lip bunched up as if Emmet was incapable of frowning. "Just call me Emmet," he choked out. "Don't call me the same as everyone else..." He brought the heel of his left palm up to his eye, already rubbing to hide any wetness that sprung up there.

Very gently, "Oh Emmet," came out before he could think of anything else. and he reached out a hand for Emmet's other. Without hesitation, despite still scrubbing at his eye, Emmet took his hand. Giving his twin's hand a squeeze he hoped was comforting, he brought his other hand up to try and coax Emmet to stop rubbing at his eyes. "My apologies, I did not mean to upset you."

"Does Ingo like someone else? Someone he doesn't call the same way?" Emmet stubbornly kept one hand up to his eyes, so he couldn't see the surprise on Ingo's face. In fact, he also didn't see the furrowing of Ingo's brows that quickly followed after. "Is it Mel--"

Emmet couldn't continue, because Ingo kissed him then, firmly, sternly. It was not romantic, not by half, and Ingo would surely make up for it once he convinced his quite silly twin that his worries were unfounded. Releasing both of Emmet's hands to wrap his arms around his younger brother's waist, he put their foreheads together. Emmet had no choice but to lower his hand, and after a moment he placed both of his hands on Ingo's now much thicker biceps.

The little flick of Emmet's eyes to his arms was not missed, but he would approach that later. "Do you think I would kiss anyone but you? My memories have failed me, that much is certain, but I still thought of you every day. This mouth is reserved for the Man in White only." The amusement in his tone for the last sentence eased a bit of tension out of Emmet's shoulders, and his lip no longer quivered.

"Only the Man in White? If I wore green would you have not recognized me?" It was half a tease, suggesting Emmet worried even over something so silly.

"Best not wear green. These old eyes aren't quite what they used to be. I'd have to lean in close to recognize your cute face." Another tease, and he rubbed their foreheads together, pleased when Emmet let out a quiet chuckle.

"Then I would get another kiss!" Emmet declared, turning more playful by the moment now that his worried had finally been spoken. "I am Emmet. I will wear many colors!"

With an approving hum, Ingo hugged his younger brother tighter. "I'll just keep kissing you to be sure, then."

Emmet slid his face down to rest his forehead on Ingo's shoulder, though his hands didn't move from Ingo's biceps. "And hugging?"

"And hugging, of course. I will give you anything you need for proof." They hugged for a few minutes, the sound of their stew stock bubbling away as they simply enjoyed the embrace. Finally, Emmet leaned back and seemed to feel much better. His smile was bright again, no longer strained, and he cheerfully went back to finish the vegetables.

After that, Ingo made certain to always allow Emmet to brush his knuckles against his. And, he even held his hand in public on occasion.

[bangchansspicybuldak]

[Drive inspired]"If you'd like then we can go for a ride,

tryna get you outta my mind [Bang Chan]

[Fanfiction] but then who'd ride my bike."

(The lines are made up by me)

[𝑓𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛]‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚. greetings!

thenightsoftingles 𝓃𝒾𝒶™𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ at your

service! [또 속아버린 아픔] 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[Kiss me or leave me] now-

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ loading... ↻

Welcome!

"Where I choose your pace and you ride." -inspired by drive, 2005 vibes.

[Half written prompt that I actually don't think I will ever complete <3]

What can you expect:- Thrill, Smut, rough sex imagination (?), Riding bike on a full speed, Police and legal laws are non-existent [still not prescribed to take the risk kids.]

Word count:- ~900 (?) words

Chapter(s):- 1/1

━━━━━━━━

Ride or Die

The thrill thrums in your veins.

You live among stars, night vision of city passes like millions of bulbs, and you'd hope nothing but a good fuck to go with it.

Other bike tallies you over your speed, and you grin beneath your helmet. Loser Tron, always showing off.

You troll behind him, whooping and laughing. The crisp air touches your clad leather skin when you pass by him.

Freedom.

This is your freedom. A little adventurous, a high bet on danger but so fucking thrilling. It takes you on a little chase for getting high on adrenaline.

It helps you groom the reputation that you've built up.

Rumour spreads like fire, and it burns the whole forest. That's how you find yourself in; a lot of risk.

For a while you make rounds, your friends poaching each other, laughing and mocking trails of circles to play chase.

You signal to stop for a rest, and they signal back, indicating that they're not yet ready to take a break. You zoom your bike off in the tunnel, your secret deserted hide-out.

Usually you and your mates hung out here, typically trying to not to get drunk, and since you opted to time-out, you'd expected to be alone. At the least you didn't expected to run into someone you recognize, someone like him.

You remove your helmet, a little confuse how he find out your secret hide-out.

But your attention span is short-term, and you are distracted– because how the fuck can you focus— the only light source darkens something already so dark and intense.

He stands there, arms crossed over his bulging chest over the Supreme white shirt.

You see his gaze lingering on your figure, critically tracing down the outfit, then it skitters over each directions of your curves when your come up from your cat-like posture to lean back, turning off your bike and crossing off it to land on the ground again, still feeling the vibrations beneath your feet.

You see his jaw tick, as if you're the one testing him.

You still think that there is something so sexy about this transfer student.

The Australian innocent puppeteer from your college. A lad who smiles so big that his dimples shoots thousands of women to be his whatever— a one night stand, Hooker, be his maid, or anything, really.

Last summer he changed his hair blonde.

You can take him right now, just get rid of his flared tight black jeans and ride him, or make him bend you and fuck you from behind.

Hell, Fuck it if someone catches you both blowing off the steam.

You'd want nothing to tug his hair roughly, bite down the column of his throat and grind on his thigh and talk dirty in his ears. You can force yourself to stop in order to stop him from cumming inside you and you would cum multiple time until you're satisfied, ruining his shiny black leather jacket. Because that fucking Jacket has started to appear with his usual outfit a lot these day. And him being jacked doesn't help.

"Whatcha doin' here, good little college boy?" Another fucking reason you want to ride him, because at your statement he blushes.

He blushes and then his gaze turns to the ground, now studying the trash the tunnel has been littered with.

So much of shying when he literally checked you out with his eyes.

His jaw still ticks, and you spoon in closer, dragging your high boots on until you reach few metres, just a little bit closer to him.

What a vision he is, if only he just lets you see Heaven and completely ruin his innocence in the process.

"Just wanted to see what a big bad college girl does in her free time."

If you were turned on, that'd had been quite a problem for managing your sticky leather pants. Because "big bad girl" is what you hear in your ears when he thrusts inside you in one go, no forwarnings. Making you to chase it, to earn it, take it.

Yes, Guts, he does has some guts.

You'd have taken him down if he was one of your one-night stand.

You chuckle as his eyes narrows on yours again.

Right, all the bullshit of being a heartbreaker and a good hooker.

You'd have heard worst from time to time, and fuck, as if that'd define how you want to operate.

"Enjoyed seeing me ride, huh, little good boy? Wish you could've seen riding me something else?" You tug in closer and you see his little freckles that disappears beneath his shirt, a smirk competitively plastered on your lips as his eyes double-takes your bloody red lips.

"What, got too bored with your other nerdy girlfriends and decided to try something new?" You whisper in a slippery, honeyed tone, pressing chest-to-chest.

He'd have chosen a bad target if he came to you to seek any good company.

Bang 'Christopher' Chan.

So much for the innocent English name.

[foulbearobservation]

You’ve given me BeaCam and OT4 brain rot, thank you so much: I think BeaCam would occasionally play gentle, nerdy scenes that tap into how smart they both are as well as Bea’s praise kink. Cam would have Bea tell her about some theory or read something in one of her more complicated languages while Cam works her over and tells her how good and smart she is. I don’t think it would be anything truly difficult bc if Bea’s past of needing to be useful/trying not to be cast aside, but after they figure out the right level of intensity, it’s v therapeutic for Bea to finally be actually rewarded for everything she did to protect herself. Probably a fun type of scene to pull Ava into when she’s feeling toppy, too.

We got another one lads!

Also you're so right they would absolutely talk like,,, hmmm quantum computing theory just so cam can make a truly excellent demonstration about how in classical computing, every bit can either be 1 or 0 (on or off), while quantum theory is based on the idea that one bit can be 1 and 0 (on and off) at the same time and this whole time she's truly just torturing bea with their little remote controlled vibrator. There's a joke to be made there, I know there is.

Be the change u wanna see in the world anon, post the full beacam sex scene or I riot.

[larry-hiatus]

30 Days of Smut Snippets - Day 12

I’m doing something a bit different for today’s snippet. This is from a fic I was working on way back from like 2012 to 2015 or something. It’s not on AO3, and I’m going to assume most of my followers now did not read it when I originally posted it on Tumblr lol but hopefully you like this little bit! It’s from the first real smut I ever wrote, so it’s definitely not at the level I write now, but I thought I would pull it out for funsies. Please ignore the head hopping lol it’s driving me crazy, but I didn’t want to edit this too much!

As the darker lad shifted, a guttural cry tumbled from Harry’s mouth, and Zayn knew he’d found the boy’s sweet spot. Zayn tormented his prostate continuously as he reached around to stroke his hard-on, producing a harsh weep from the boy beneath him. He leaned forward until his sweaty chest was pressed against Harry’s back, and he gave the boy’s damp neck a soft kitten lick as Harry whined high in his throat.

“That’s it, Harry,” he breathed against his pink-tipped ear, the way he used to when he felt Harry getting close. Zayn knew the younger lad’s body so well, had explored it so meticulously, that he would often know when Harry was nearing his orgasm even before Harry did. Harry tightened and gasped, causing Zayn to smile slightly, glad that he was still familiar with his friend’s patterns. “Come on, babe,” he encouraged lowly, fondling him faster and screwing him further until he was balls deep inside of him. He mouthed at Harry’s shoulder, pinching at the skin with his teeth until he felt Harry start to tremble.

Harry’s legs began to shake, muscles rippling beneath his skin, threatening to give out from beneath him, and he clutched at the sheets, praying he wouldn’t pass out before he could come. He shut his eyes tightly, and he clamped around Zayn, as he felt his orgasm initiating at the center of his groin and the tips of his toes, which curled painfully into the mattress. Sweat erupted from his pores and his heart pumped harder, threatening to chase his climax from his core.

And then he was coming – hard, and messy, and loud, a storm of shouts and wordless pleasure quickly wrenching Zayn to his own peak behind him. The two vibrated against each other, panting and reeling with fierce intensity, open mouthed and purring deliciously. The older boy felt Harry’s thick cum coat his hand, and he shuddered at its familiarity.

(Find the rest here)

[woowhouse]

Unveiling the Ultimate Relaxation Experience: The Fascia Gun Muscle Relaxation Massager

In the fast-paced world we live in, stress and physical fatigue are common companions. As we strive to maintain a healthy lifestyle, finding effective ways to relax and rejuvenate our muscles becomes essential. The Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun is a revolutionary device designed to provide professional-grade muscle relaxation through electric vibration massage. Let's delve into its incredible features, specifications, and precautions.

=================>>>Check Here<<<==================

Compact and User-Friendly Design

Gone are the days of bulky fascia guns. The Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun has undergone meticulous research and development to offer a lightweight and compact body, comparable to the size of a mobile phone. This design ensures that even individuals with smaller hands, including little girls, can effortlessly operate the device with just one hand.

Long-lasting and Efficient Battery

Say goodbye to frequent charging hassles! The fascia gun boasts an upgraded battery, ensuring a safer and more energy-efficient charging experience. With just 10 minutes of daily use, the device can maintain its massage prowess for an impressive 30 days. This means you can enjoy the benefits of muscle relaxation without the inconvenience of frequent recharging.

High-Power Brushless Motor for Intense Relief

Equipped with a powerful 24W brushless motor, the fascia gun operates at a speed of 3200, making it an ideal companion for post-exercise recovery. This high-powered motor aids in eliminating accumulated lactic acid, relieving muscle soreness, and combating fatigue. The incorporation of dual bearings enhances stability, preventing excessive vibration that can affect the hand. The result is a more perfect and silent movement energy for a truly immersive massage experience.

Specifications

Product Name: Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun

Color: Dark Green

Material: ABS

Power: 24W

Product Weight: Approximately 0.6kg

Style: Ordinary Buttons

Precautions for Safe Usage

To ensure a safe and effective experience, it's crucial to adhere to the following precautions:

Avoid Touching or Pressing the Massage Head During Operation:Prevent accidental injuries by refraining from touching or pressing the massage head while the device is in operation.

Avoid Hitting Joints:Be cautious to avoid hitting joints during the massage, ensuring a comfortable and safe experience.

Select Suitable Body Parts:Not all body parts are suitable for massage. Use the fascia gun on muscles and areas that can benefit from the therapy.

Gradual Increase in Duration:For optimal results, gradually increase the duration of use. Longer durations may provide better effects over time.

Not Suitable for Certain Individuals:The fascia gun is not recommended for babies, minors, pregnant women, individuals with pacemakers, those with fractures, or those with metal in their bodies.

The Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun stands as a testament to the advancements in relaxation technology. With its compact design, powerful motor, and long-lasting battery, it offers a convenient and effective solution for post-exercise recovery and overall muscle relaxation. By following the provided precautions, users can maximize the benefits of this professional-grade neck membrane gun, ensuring a safe and enjoyable experience. Say hello to a new era of relaxation with the Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun.

1. Emma Thompson - United Kingdom:

"The Mini Muscle Fascia Gun is a game-changer! It's compact, powerful, and perfect for my post-yoga muscle relief."

2. Carlos Rodriguez - Spain:

"¡Increíble! This fascia gun is muy bueno. Helps me recover after intense workouts. Highly recommend!"

3. Sophie Müller - Germany:

"Klein aber oho! The Mini Fascia Gun is my go-to for quick muscle relaxation. The battery life is a game-changer!"

4. Liam O'Connor - Ireland:

"Top of the morning! This Irish lad loves the silent power of the fascia gun. Excellent for soothing those tough knots."

5. Elena Rossi - Italy:

"La dolce vita just got sweeter with this fascia gun. Stylish design, and it works wonders on my tired muscles!"

6. Makoto Tanaka - Japan:

"素晴らしい！The Mini Muscle Fascia Gun is a must-have for my daily recovery routine. Compact and efficient!"

7. Isabel Fernandez - Mexico:

"¡Increíble! The fascia gun is a blessing for my sore muscles after long dance rehearsals. So glad I found it!"

8. Hans Jensen - Denmark:

"Fantastisk! The Danish Viking in me loves the power of this fascia gun. Great for post-training recovery."

9. Anya Petrov - Russia:

"Прекрасно! The Mini Fascia Gun is a lifesaver during Moscow winters. Keeps my muscles relaxed and ready for action!"

10. Chen Wei - China:

"太棒了！This fascia gun is fantastic. Compact size, but the power is impressive. Perfect for my workout recovery."

11. Luisa Fernandez - Brazil:

"Maravilhoso! The Mini Muscle Fascia Gun is a hit in Brazil. Compact, powerful, and great for after beach workouts!"

12. Seung-Hoon Park - South Korea:

"대박! The fascia gun is a must-have in my fitness routine. The silent operation and power are unmatched."

13. Mia Andersen - Sweden:

"Underbart! The Swedish winters can be tough, but this fascia gun is perfect for keeping my muscles relaxed and ready."

14. Raj Patel - India:

"शानदार! The Mini Fascia Gun is a true gem. It helps me unwind after a hectic day. Highly recommended!"

15. Olga Ivanova - Ukraine:

"Чудово! The fascia gun is a real game-changer for my workout recovery. Lightweight and powerful - exactly what I needed!"

16. Leonardo Santos - Portugal:

"Fantástico! This fascia gun is fantastic for my daily workouts. The battery life is impressive, and it's so easy to use."

17. Aya Nakamura - France:

"Incroyable! The Mini Muscle Fascia Gun is a staple in my fitness routine. It's stylish, effective, and oh-so-French!"

18. Aiden Murphy - Canada:

"Eh! This fascia gun is perfect after a day of hockey. It's compact enough to throw in my bag, and the power is unbeatable."

19. Lara Costa - Argentina:

"Increíble! The fascia gun is a lifesaver for my sore muscles after tango practice. Compact, stylish, and so effective!"

20. Benjamin Smith - United States:

"The Mini Fascia Gun is a game-changer! Compact size, long battery life, and it works wonders on my post-gym soreness."

=================>>>Check Here<<<==================

[jaynovz]

7, 17 for weird questions? <3

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Creating scenes and moments out of whole cloth, making the intangible somehow tangible through just the power of words. When everything is just... clicking along so well and flowing and you come out with something that's so fucking choice that you just sit back and smile at it for a moment, so PLEASED with yourself that you’re vibrating with joy.

That part is pretty awesome. <3

Close second place-- The community of other writers, getting to concept/spin out ideas. A unique creative experience that cannot be matched.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhh!! -zoomy eyes- BREAK UP BOYS.

Okay so anyone who has been around me/my blog for five seconds in the last six months already knows that I've been working nonstop on this Gigantic Novel of a Black Sails mod au lmao.

But just in case:

Minor celebrities Artist!Flint and Actor!Silver meet and fall in love in NYC during winter. At first they seem like a perfect match, each singular to the other in their own way; the relationship intensifies into a whirlwind the likes of which neither has ever had before, reaching dizzying heights of emotion and vulnerability.

However, problems lie beneath the surface of the delirious bliss; a fraught tale laden with mistakes, miscommunication, and betrayal plays out, both sides at fault. Inevitably, they have a devastating break up.

Nearly a year later, they meet up again at a holiday party, their reunion engineered by mutual friends. The same cycle of intensity, love, and hurt begins again, even worse than before. 

Can they learn from their mistakes and compromise? Will they ever be free of each other or are they in an endless time loop? Is there a true ending? 

Hmmm, well it’s not DONE YET, so I can’t tell you. 

This story is called the All Too Well verse b/c the idea spawned from my absolute OBSESSION with Taylor Swift’s 10 min version of the song which was released in Nov 2021. Much of the story is adapted from the lyrics, but a huge amount of it is Jay Original as well. Which lyrics I use are landmines/surprises as we go :P

The story is written non-linearly, with two timelines, the present and past interspersed as we build towards The Break Up Fight, which the entire story revolves around.

Fun things that probably won’t make it in... hmmm... well Silver’s backstory lmao, especially the details of how he lost his leg. But because of the nature of the Snake Lad I actually... shouldn’t tell you that. I’m sorry!!

But I wrote Flint a new backstory from scratch, which is emerging a little at a time and so I can talk about it in a bit more detail: 

He grew up VERY poor in upstate NY, on a dairy farm. He and Anne are siblings in this and their parents died when they were both pretty young. They’ve been raised by their grandparents on this family farm, both being taught the ropes of how to maintain it. He’s been drawing since childhood and mentioned in chap 4 that he “grew up sketching a lot of cows.” 

There was a lot of pressure on him as the oldest to take over the farm from his aging grandparents, which caused friction. He compromised by instead moving to the city and getting a job where he could send money back to help out. Flint had a very successful career as a PI for about ten years, continued painting in his off time. Then finally was able to go to art school, started painting full time. He had a lucky break and has been a pretty big name in modern art for the last decade.

There’s more~~ There’s always More. But I wanna keep some secrets and also I have rambled on quite a lot lmao. Also you can read Break Up HERE as the drama develops.

Thanks for the questions and for letting me plug my story!! <3

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 5]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, use of toys(sybian), squirting, the long awaited chapter 5 😳💕 do they finally meet?!?!?!?! hehehehehehe also sorry for not being able to post this yesterday, had a busy week and when I tell ya I woke up at 3pm today 😗 💕💕💕💕 as always, thank you so much for your continued interest!! I'm already writing ch 6 and im SOOOO EXCITEDDDD hHEHEHEHEEHEH 💕💕💕💕💕 HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR WEEKENDS! 🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ? 

“You guys! I--you have to see this!”

You can’t wipe the smile off of your face when you shimmy to the side, excitedly showing off the new gift that Seungcheol had sent in the mail.

sleepy_wonu: holy hell

universe_WZ: that mustve costed hella

alphagyu97: nothin like feelin extra poor amirite lads

angelhan: it was only a matter of time before dom.cheol was untouchable lol 

You giggle slightly as you adjust the camera so that you and your new sybian are in frame. “Hey~ Don’t say that!! Y’know it’s not the amount of money you spend on me… I’m glad you guys are always here with me~” The sound of coins clinking goes off in the back as you read a few more comments.

dom.cheol: well princess, don’t u wanna show them how you use your new toy? ;)

tangerine_kwan: fuck i bet it can get u to cum so fuckin fast

hoshi_tiger_xx: yessss

dom.cheol has donated $100

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

“Hmm~ How many times do you think I can cum with this? Oh! Why don’t we do this~” You pause, sliding your wet panties down your legs before tossing the material to the side. You grin, swinging a leg over the toy until you’re straddling it. “Rapid fire question! Whoever guesses the right amount of orgasms I can take before I call quits… Wins a special unreleased photoset of me! Go!”

dom.cheol: 5

universe_WZ: 4

sleepy_wonu: 6

angelhan: 3 artist8hao: 5

alphagyu97: everyone took all the good numbers already!!! 7!!!!!

gentleman_josh95: DMAN IT 3

tangerine_kwan: 8, fuck

kitty_junjun: ugh i was gonna say 4!!!!

xcaliburDK: i was gonna say 5!!!!

therealchan99: 2? thats so low tho….

chwenon: as if anyone is gonna say 1, lmao. Uh 6…. If sleepy_wonu happens to disappear

hoshi_tiger_xx: im gonna say 10, but… seems… risky

Reaching for the remote, you situate yourself until the raised part of the toy sits directly on your clit. A shiver runs up your spine at the feeling; already excited for what’s in store. “Um, to be fair I haven’t tried it myself yet so I’m not sure either... Hehe, but I guess we’ll find out together, huh?”

Gulping, you set the sybian to its lowest setting, the air getting knocked out of your lungs immediately as your body lurches forward. “H--holy shit!” The vibrations are already harsh on the lowest setting; your fingers gripping the remote tightly as you try to adjust to the feeling. “O--oh my g-god, I--”

dom.cheol: aww can ur cute lil clit take it?

xcaliburDK: maybe one of the lower numbers was right lol…

The moans spill freely from your lips, garbled noises getting lost in the mix when you start to grind against the vibration. “Fuck, it--it feels suh--so good, hah, already feel like ‘m gonna cum…” You whine, already getting lost in the pleasure. For a second, you’re tempted to raise the vibration intensity but you hold back, letting your wetness coat the toy as you continue to grind down onto it. The sound of donations and comments sound fuzzy to your ears; only the sound of the sybian buzzing reminding you that the camera was still even on.

“Ngh, g-god, I’m--I’m gonna cum!”

tangerine_kwan has donated $75

xcaliburDK has donated $50

dom.cheol has donated $200

dom.cheol: cmon, lets see that pretty pussy cum

Your legs shake as you cum, only a squeak coming out of your mouth as you lurch forward atop the toy. The grip you have on the remote loosens while simultaneously trying to turn it off in the midst of your orgasm.

dom.cheol: awww cumming so hard on the first setting? Cute

therealchan99: lol baby is in trouble now

angelhan: maybe 3 was right lmao

“I--a-ah, fu--fuck!” You cry, shaky fingers finally managing to shut the toy off. Your body immediately untenses; chest heaving with how sensitive you already were and it had only been your first orgasm and the lowest setting of the toy. “O-oh my g-god, I--I didn’t know i-it was that s-strong…” You mumble, body buzzing with the remnants of your orgasm.

sleepy_wonu: well mr dom.cheol did pay top dollar

gentleman_josh95: imagine if u had this for yesterdays show lol

“Oh god, if--if I had this for yesterday’s show, I would’ve been too boneless to do today’s show!” You laugh airily, slowly grinding against the toy already. “It feels really nice though… I’m already super curious about how strong the other settings are…” Trailing off, you reach for the remote again, throat dry as you fiddle with the knob.

kitty_junjun: what if u set it to the max setting

chwenon: idk if her cute lil body could take it

dom.cheol: its okay baby, take ur time. I wanna see how sensitive that pussy of yours can get

“But ‘m already so sensitive~ I dunno how much more I can take~” You tease, biting your lip when all the comments flooding the chat are words of encouragement.

You knew when you started camming that it’d be no easy job. Building up your fanbase and subscriber count had taken you months upon months to even get within the thousands and camming was physically exhausting. Some days your viewer counts were low and some days they were above average and sometimes you didn’t make as much in one show than another.

tangerine_kwan: was therealchan99 right with 2 then? Heh

therealchan99: finally FINALLY ITS MY TIME TO SHINE

Giggling, you slowly start turning the knob; body twitching when the vibrations kick in at full force.

Seungcheol watches in amazement at the way your body jerks atop the machine.

He can see the way your legs twitch unbearably when you cum for the third time; your brows furrowed at the intensity of the vibrations and your taut body when you can barely manage to turn the machine off.

Licking his lips, he slowly thrusts up into his closed palm, spreading the precum down his shaft as he watches you catch your breath.

“I--ngh, fuh--fuck, I---I don’t--don’t know if I--I can cum a-again…”

Seungcheol moans at your breathy whimpers; the arousal in his body pooling up quickly when he sees the fucked out expression in your eyes. His eyes flit to the wetness that coats the silicone portion of the toy, smirking when he realizes how much you really seemed to enjoy the gift he’d gotten you.

Mentally patting himself on the back, he praises himself for making the right decision.

angelhan: please tlel me im the winner im begging

universe_WZ: NO

dom.cheol: is the princess tired already? ;)

You catch your breath, not wanting to give up despite how fuzzy your head was getting and how much your body was buzzing. “I dunno… We still haven’t tried the last setting, you guys… And I’m just so curious...” You whisper, hazy eyes staring into the camera.

hoshi_tiger_xx: god u look so pretty like this, all fucked out

artis8hao: right? fuck, id kill to be that guy who can get u off like this

xcaliburDK: goddamn same

The sound of coins clinking mixes with the ringing in your ears; fingertips already on the knob of the remote.

You take a deep breath, letting the adrenaline kick in as you quickly set the knob to the highest setting, a high pitched cry spilling from your lips when you let go of the remote in favor of holding onto the machine instead. Grinding down onto it, you meet the toy's harsh vibrations as it quickly forces another orgasm out of you in the matter of seconds.

Choked cries spill from your lips as your entire body tenses up; body twitching uncontrollably as you cum for the fourth time. You lean back with whatever energy you have left, bracing yourself on the back of the toy as you relieve your swollen clit of the buzzing machine. Your orgasm refuses to stop and you can already tell how obscenely wet everything’s gotten when your head starts to clear.

alphagyu97: fuck you squirted all over the toy baby

universe_WZ: fuck fucki fuck

universe_WZ: wait did i winf kjfhdsjk

You shakily slide off of the machine, resting on your side as the machine still buzzes with life next to you. Your entire body won’t stop shaking, head muddled as you fight the urge to shut your eyes and sleep for the next 5 days. “I’m--I--” You whimper, still feeling the phantom vibrations between your legs.

“I--ho--holy fuck, I, w-wow, I--I don’t--that--I’m, I’m just… wow.”

dom.cheol has donated $400

dom.cheol: knew you’d like it ;)

universe_WZ: THAT MEANS I WON

universe_WZ has donated $150

angelhan has donated $150

therealchan99: well, at least some of us got close

hoshi_tiger_xx: fuckin speak for urself man i said /10/

You end the show after letting ‘universe_WZ’ know you’ll contact him soon, shutting your eyes as you lay on your soiled sheets.

You can still feel your fingertips twitching when your eyes slide shut, chest heaving in deep breaths as you try to relax yourself, momentarily cursing yourself for pushing your body too far for tonight’s show. 

Groaning, you reach for your phone, the screen lighting up with a text from Seungcheol, a simple ‘don’t forget to drink water ;)’ in your notifications and you can’t help but pout.

Seungcheol was nice, almost too nice. Definitely not in a murderer kinda way though, you think. 

He bought you expensive gifts and never asked for anything in return which made you feel bad sometimes. And while the donations and tips you’d made through your camshows was enough to get by with, Seungcheol’s generous donations helped you always make your rent and bills on time without worrying if you’d have enough or not.

You quickly text him back with a smile on your face; hoping that he’ll like what you had to offer.

Seungcheol feels the exact same way he did when you first contacted him offering him a free show, except maybe ten times worse. At first, he’d been a little sad that he hadn’t won your quick little game but this made up for it 20-fold.

The six simple words read ‘want to meet up next friday?’, a small heart emoji next to the question and he’d almost thrown his phone when he read it, hands shakily responding with a simple ‘I’d love to.’ to make it seem like he was calm when he was most definitely not.

His immediate next order of business after replying was to text Namjoon despite how late into the night it already was, begging for the day off and offering to take any shifts or pay cuts in exchange for it. 

All he needed was one day and he swore he’d never miss a day of work ever again.

Namjoon responds with a quick ‘sure, why not’, momentarily confusing him as to why his boss was awake while simultaneously sending Seungcheol into complete panic when he realizes he finally gets to meet you.

The week goes by extremely quickly to Seungcheol; his mood on a completely different level when he offers to pick up Yoongi’s Sunday shift without a complaint. He cleans up all the messes around the roller rink and even offers to do jobs that aren’t his which have Jeongguk raising a brow at the older male.

In the days that lead up to your meeting, Seungcheol looks up a few cafes that you might be interested in and even goes to get an STD exam, not that he’s expecting anything. Safety first, he says.

Your Wednesday show comes and goes, Seungcheol too excited to even get off when he watches you and he even donates an extra $600 at the end of the show; travel spending money, he offers.

And Thursday comes without a hitch and he all but skips to the employee backroom once his shift is over, humming a tune while he changes out of his uniform.

“Hey hyung, no offense, but are you okay?” Jeongguk rests against the locker next to Seungcheol’s open one, brow raised at the blue haired male that beams back at him. “I’m scared, why are you so… giddy. You even offered to take Yoongi-hyung’s weekend shift? What the hell was that about? I’ve never seen him that giddy either.  Man, this place is getting weird, maybe I should quit...”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh, patting Jeongguk on the shoulder before shutting his locker.

“I have an important meeting tomorrow, that’s all. And don’t quit, ‘cause who else is gonna give me free food.”

While the excitement had him since Saturday, now that it was finally Friday, he was downright nervous.

The two of you had agreed to meet at 2PM in front of the cafe that Seungcheol had picked out and you’d gotten a hotel in town to make it easier on yourself instead of trying to get back to your place too late. Seungcheol had offered to come pick you up, but you had politely declined; instead opting to meet him first before letting him do anything else for you.

And by nature, Seungcheol gets to the cafe 15 minutes early, fidgeting and continuously running his fingers through his hair as he patiently waits. He can feel his palms getting sweaty when he rubs them against his jeans, mentally trying to keep calm and his head floods with all sorts of thoughts; mainly, how he even got into this position with you in the first place. And he gets so distracted that he doesn’t realize you’d be standing watching him zone out for the last 5 minutes.

“Wow, not sure what’s got you so focused but you’re standing so still!”

Seungcheol hears your cute airy laugh that follows, a cherry blush on his cheeks when his eyes meet your smiling face. “I--oh my god…” He whispers, taking in your appearance.

He feels his face buzzing, fingers twitching when he sees you in a cute simple  sundress. “W-wow, you--you’re just… so beautiful. I mean, you’re beautiful on cam too but just, wow, in person? Incredible.” The blush reaches his ears when he realizes he’s rambling, a nervous laugh spilling out of his lips.

“S--sorry, I, uh, usually I’m more chill than this but y’know…” He trails off, to which you nod. You step closer to Seungcheol and he gets a hint of your sweet smelling perfume, mentally groaning when your cute eyes peer up into his.

“That’s okay! I totally understand~ I’m kinda nervous myself too, to be honest…” You pause, a pink blush coating your own cheeks. “But let’s talk over some food, huh?”

Seungcheol doesn’t want to pry, but he’s not sure if he should address you as ‘Cherry’ in person, or if he should avoid calling you by anything at all.

He watches as you go through the cafe’s menu, biting the inside of his cheek as he itches to ask.

“‘Cheol… I can feel you staring, y’know.. Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, concerned eyes meeting his nervous ones.

“I just-- Sorry, I didn’t mean to be awkward, I just was wondering how I should address you in person? I don’t want to overstep my bounds, I know you don’t put your real name out there so…”

You place your menu down, closing it before leaning on your palms atop the small table. Seungcheol is cute, too cute, you think. You knew this would be a question when the two of you eventually met and you had given yourself the time to get used to the idea that he’d know your real name.

He eyes hyperfocus on your glossy lips, watching as you say your name for him for the first time.

Seungcheol’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest when he hears it; repeating it over and over in his head before he says it out loud.

“Wow, it sounds nice when it’s you saying it~” You tease, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t mind if you call me by my name, by the way! The pet names are cute but maybe we should keep that to the bedroom~” You end in a whisper, winking at the male.

Fuck, he thinks, just as his cock throbs at your comment. He really wishes you wouldn’t say things like that because he’s weak and he knows it, especially when it comes to you. “Okay, cool! Yeah, sorry, I just---I didn’t want to overstep, I know you don’t really let that be public information.”

“Of course! And thank you, I really can’t tell you how much you’ve done for me. I really… really wouldn’t be able to do all the things that I do if it weren’t for your constant support.”

You want to say more, but the waiter comes to take your orders, cutting you off until he leaves again.

“By the way…” Seungcheol looks at you with curious eyes, lips puckered around his drink straw. “Tell me about yourself, ‘Cheollie! I feel like we didn’t really get to talk that one time!”

He swallows the water in his mouth, licking his dry lips. Here goes nothing, he thinks.

“I swear, and please don’t think I’m a loser, but I--I work at a roller rink. It’s really not cool, I’m not some high paid CEO or whatever, I--I just, I work hard?” Seungcheol chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he waits for your reply.

“Wait, that’s so cool! Oh my gosh, I kinda wanna go!”

The surprise washes over Seungcheol, eyes wide as saucers when he hears you saying you’d want to visit his workplace. “Wuh---wait, seriously!?”

“Yeah! It’s kinda, like, retro! I haven’t been to one since I was a kid!” He quickly offers to bring you to the roller rink on Sunday so you could have somewhere to hang out while you were in town.

“And sadly, I took a shift on Sunday so you can hang with me while I work.” 

Seungcheol grins, watching as you jokingly roll your eyes at him. “So you did it on purpose, huh…” The two of you share a laugh, glad that your first meeting seemed to be going okay so far.

“Well, I mean, if it makes you feel any better, my best friend works the concession stand so I’ll make sure to get you a free pair of skates and food whenever you want?”

“It’s a deal!”

The two of you continue to talk over your late lunch, Seungcheol telling you of the various work hijinks he’d gone through at his time working at the roller rink.

“Which, by the way, that morning show you did… Hope you know I holed up in the restroom for an entire hour for that ‘lil stunt.”

You can’t help the tears that fall from your eyes when you laugh, only feeling slightly bad for the blue haired male. “But I told you! Sometimes it’s just like that, y’know~” You tease back, heart blooming at the way you and Seungcheol got along.

In all honesty, there’d been something on your mind since you first sat down and you didn’t know when the right time to ask was, or if it was even appropriate.

The smile slips from your face as you bite the inside of your cheek in thought.

Seungcheol takes the bill from the waiter, slipping his card into the holder before you can even offer. But he notices the way your expression falls, noting the hesitance in your eyes when he looks at you from across the table.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice is gentle, soft and caring when he leans over the table to make sure you’re alright.

“Yeah! Just---Can I ask you for a favor?”

[gxllxghercest]

Noel's hoe phase in his 20s isn't appreciated or talked about enough ok.

Look, all I'm saying is... The mental image of roadie Noel, that sweet little slut lad, on his knees at the foot of a couch with a vibrator on the floor in front of him, propped up with a stand or something so that it's just brushing against the head of his cock, is nice to think about. You know what let's throw a cock ring in there too.

And maybe, Clint Boon and Johnny Marr happen to be sitting on that couch. They're drinking, having a good time, occasionally telling Noel, who's whining and desperately moving his hips back and forth to feel more of the vibrator against his cock, "quiet down lad, the adults are talking." It's always dismissively casual and condescending, as if Johnny's thumb isn't idly brushing over the buttons of the vibrator's remote, as if he hasn't been increasing the intensity every time they Crack open a new bottle. But, it feels like it's been hours at this point, and poor Noel can barely hold back his begging, "Please, fuck you cunts please need it- fuck, please let me mmmf fu-ah." He's hunched over at this point, head resting against Clint's leg and looking up at Johnny with pleading eyes, and in return he gets a soft look, tender, fond, almost fatherly, it makes Noel's stomach twist up in knots and he has to shut his eyes for a moment.

Clint's massive hand strokes his hair before pulling on the strands, slow and firm, angling Noel's head so he can look up at Clint. "Wha'd'you reckon, Johnny?" Johnny's already slid off his spot on the couch to the floor next to Noel's writhing figure. Clint's hand migrates from behind Noel's head to cupping his jaw, he runs his thumb over his full, parted lips.

"oh I think he's earned it. Look at him." Johnny runs a finger along the top of Noel's Cock, earning a moan and twitch if his hips.

"please-"

"shh, I know kid I know." Says Johnny as he turns off the vibrator and takes off the cock ring. He can't help but stare at the two of them, Clint's hand framing the kid's face, shoving fingers in his mouth and prying his jaw open to watch the way his tongue laps against the pads of his fingers. This boy is obscene, who ever let him around men like us, Johnny thinks to himself as Clint spits in the kid's eager mouth. Noel barely has to rub against Johnny's palm before his cum is coating it... doesn't even have to be asked to lick it clean.

[bellshells]

Nobody Can Know Part 3

Part three of nobody can know, I’ve actually split part three into two (maybe three) different parts. It was burgeoning on upwards of 35k words and I figured it’s too much in one post, so I’ll be posting what is now part four soon. Thank you for bearing with me whilst I got my shit together, and as always, I hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin Reader Warnings: Smut (start as we mean to go on amirite), Langauge, Alcohol, Smoking, Threat(?), Angst Summary: It all goes tits up lads, that’s all I’m going to say. Word Count: 11k+ Part One Part Four @alpha-cera 

“George,” You moaned, a new wave of sheer pleasure coursed through you and built deep in your stomach. The red head on top of you frowned, his brow furrowed; a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He continued his thrusts, each eliciting a smothered moan from your parted lips.

“Quiet, witch. You’re going to let the whole house know how well you’re being fucked.” George scolded, he placed a large hand over your mouth and quickened his pace. He filled every inch of you and yet you yearned for more. George flicked his hips against yours, gritting his teeth to suppress the moan that threatened to escape. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer, especially with the muggle vibrator fixed to your clit with the help of a sticking charm. You whined against George’s hand; you could taste the saltiness of his skin as you gazed up into the face of the person you loved most in the world. His eyes were half closed, and lips parted with a sigh that fell effortlessly from them, you overcome with love for him. George. He was yours and you were his.

  You hadn’t considered how much your life would change in the short time since you had arrived at The Burrow, how life in general would be different. You certainly hadn’t imagined going from the sprawling grounds of your family’s estate to a tiny flat above a joke shop in Diagon Alley. You weren’t there though, not tonight. Not in your flat which you had lovingly filled with books and exotic plants with a window seat big enough for two. No, you were in a single bed surrounded by wallpaper that peeled sadly from the walls and a faint muskiness from the heavy, moth-eaten curtains. Voices carried from beneath the floorboards of Grimmauld Place as the iron bedframe began to skid across the dusty floor. You knew you had had maybe ten or fifteen minutes before the meeting was the begin; so in true George fashion he had suggested you slip away, far up the creaky staircase to the very top of the house, where a dark attic room waited. It had been a struggle at first, manoeuvring the small space as George had tugged hungrily at your clothes. The bed was small, almost humorously so. It reminded you of your bed at Hogwarts, and how you had been shocked and a little impressed when Fred had told you he had managed to sneak Angelina into his dorm and they had shared his tiny bed. A few misplaced arms and a foot set firmly on the floor had allowed George to gain a delicious purchase of your frame, and he wasted no time in running his throbbing head against your slick folds.

  Your eyes widened as George’s hand slipped from your mouth and wrapped around your neck, he squeezed tightly, and your eyes rolled back in delight. You absolutely adored it when George was rough with you, you knew he was really enjoying himself if he was. Whilst you found yourself on fire with his gentle touches and caresses, you were utterly flung into the inferno when he grappled at your skin; when he spanked you and when he wrapped his hands around your throat. You tried to moan, you tried to let him know how he made you feel, to let him know you were about to come. All you could do was reach for him, your arms found his shoulders and you pressed your fingernails down into his flesh and tugged slightly, as if it were possible for him to get any closer. George understood and released his grip of your throat slightly, his sharp thrusts more erratic as he lowered his head to your ear.   “Are you going to come, little witch?” George breathed and you shuddered, his breath was hot on your skin and you could hear how strained his voice was; like he was merely waiting for your confirmation before he would find his own release. You couldn’t speak, how could you when George’s hand again squeezed your throat, tighter than before. You choked on the moan that tried to escape, George groaned at the sight. You managed a nod as your orgasm took you, it convulsed through your body; more intense than you had ever felt. George followed almost instantly, his body falling forward onto yours as if he were melting. Your legs trembled as the waved subsided, the weight of him on top of you pushed the vibrator even harder against your overstimulated clit. It didn’t appear thar George had noticed until you began to squirm beneath him, a whimper escaped you as the little bullet shaped object pleasantly painful, trundled you towards another orgasm. If you weren’t about to come for the second time, you would have laughed at George’s shocked expression. He blinked at you, once, twice and then a third time before he seemed to understand what was happening. A look of sheer elation seemed to illuminate his face and he pushed himself back until he sat on his heels, you whined at the loss of contact but without missing a beat, George pressed his hand against the vibrator and pressed hard. You gasped and your second orgasm erupted through you like needles under your skin, it was deliciously uncomfortable as you bucked your hips against the delightful buzz. George laughed almost incredulously as you rode out the second wave until finally, he muttered the un-stick charm and the little vibrator fell away.

  You were breathless and sweaty, the inside of your thighs coated with the evidence of your passion and George ran a hand through his unkempt hair. You couldn’t move, it was like your every appendage was made of lead and no matter how you tried, you couldn’t lift them.   “Such a shame we’re not going home tonight, (Y/N). I’d love to hear the pretty noises you’d make when I make you come over and over again with this.” George said breezily, he lifted the vibrator and dropped it onto the bed before pointing his wand at it and casting a quick Scourgify. You watched him lazily as he dressed, he was thinner than he used to be. He pulled his belt to the last but one hole and buckled it. You assumed it was the stress of the shop that had caused him to lose the weight, neither Fred nor George had anticipated how popular the shop was going to be when they opened. The first day alone had seen the twins more than triple what they had paid into the business and since then, George had barely had a day off. You didn’t mind though, not really, you enjoyed seeing him in his element with his brother. He whizzed around the shop like a tornado, his mind constantly ticking over what they could do to make things bigger and better. He had found a new confidence in himself, on those days that Fred wasn’t there, and he didn’t have to share the role of ‘Boss’, George was in charge. George excelled in it, and it was a dynamic that he had brought home with him into the bedroom, which you thoroughly enjoyed.

  George pulled his shirt over his head and tossed your knickers over to you.   “Are you coming downstairs?” He asked, you chewed on your lip. Did you want to go downstairs to sit outside of a meeting you weren’t welcome at? It was Sirius that didn’t trust you, you knew that, and it wasn’t something you necessarily lost sleep over; but it still bothered you the same. George told you everything that was said in the meetings anyway, so its not as if you were kept in the dark- but that wasn’t the point. Sirius was suspicious of you, coming from the family you did. The Weasley’s had spoken in your defence, even Harry and Hermione who had shown no interest toward you beforehand had tried to get Sirius on side. But he wouldn’t budge, and rather than forcing his hand in his own house, you had elected not to join The Order. It seemed to suit everybody that way, Sirius didn’t have to speak with you, but you were kept in the loop.   “Oi, are you even listening to me?” George waved his hand in front of your face. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment and you stood.   “Sorry love, I was just thinking.”   “About what?” He sat and watched you as you searched on the floor for your discarded items of clothing. You pushed your legs into your jeans and clasped your bra before pulling your shirt over your head.   “I might go home George, if we’re supposed to be leaving early tomorrow morning to meet everyone off the train anyway, I’d be halfway there if I went tonight.”   “Why do you want to go home? Are you okay?” He asked, concern flashed across his face as he rose to meet you. George took your face in his hands and brought his lips down to yours in a tender kiss.   “I’m fine, honestly I am. I just don’t fancy waiting around for however long for you lot to finish your meeting and then sleep here as well- I just, want my own bed. I’m really tired, I had a hellish shift in the shop today and I’m due on my period any minute now and-” George placed a finger on your lips to silence you. He frowned slightly, his hands fell to your shoulders and have then a squeeze.   “You don’t have to explain yourself, darling. I know you’ve been run ragged trying to get everything sorted in the shop for the holidays. Me and Fred can’t thank you enough for that, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He paused, he seemed to mull over his words before he took a breath. “Does this have anything to do with Sirius, (Y/N)? I promise you can tell me.”

  You shook your head and smiled. You weren’t lying to George, at least not completely. You did truly want to sleep in your own bed, although the flat was cramped; you had made it home.   “No love, I just want to go home. You stay here with Fred and everyone, I’ll meet you at the shop in the morning and we can have a late breakfast?” He seemed placated by that and offered a genuine smile.   “Definitely, maybe we could go into London and do a bit of Christmas shopping?”   “Sounds perfect, George.”   “Are you going to apparate straight to the flat?” He asked as you made your way from the attic and down the rickety stairs.   “I think I’ll pop into The Leaky Cauldron first, have a drink. I’ll see if I can convince Tom to let me take a bottle or two back to the flat for us.”   “Are you leaving, dear?” Molly’s voice carried over the cacophony of sounds as you arrived outside the kitchen. George offered your coat to you and held it as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. You nodded and accepted the warm hug she offered you, and revelled84 in the motherly affection.   “Yeah, I’m going home, see if I can get a decent night’s sleep for once without this one stealing all the covers.” You elbowed George in the ribs, and he rolled his eyes. George slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close to his chest. Molly smiled at the pair of you, she took your hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.   “Are you still coming to the train station in the morning?” She asked. You nodded again and Molly beamed.   “We were just talking about going to do a bit of Christmas shopping after we’ve been to Kings Cross, as Fred’s in the shop. Would you like to come with us, Molly?”   “Oh no no, the way things are at the minute you two need to take full advantage of any and all moments you get together. Especially in that tiny flat of yours.” You nodded in agreement and made your way to the door, a figure stood out from behind the door to the sitting room, stopping you in your tracks.

  “Are you off, (Y/N)?” Sirius said blankly, his grey eyes bore into yours with an unsaid intensity.   “I am, thank you Sirius.” You refused to lower your gaze as the older man regarded you, you could see the corner of his lip quiver slightly almost upturning into a smirk. George appeared by your side and looked between you and Sirius; he cleared his throat.   “Right love, I’ll see you at the shop in the morning.” George said, his gave you a chaste kiss on the lips and opened the heavy door, waving at you until you reached the designated apparition point.  

************

The Leaky Cauldron was filled wall to wall with people as you stepped through the door. You were pleased to be out of the December chill, your hands already red with cold from your short walk. You scoured the crowd for a path to the bar and deftly avoided a few rogue elbows and spilled pints, as you fought your way through the throng of people and placing your order with a round-faced witch. You paid for your glass of wine and with a smile told her to keep the few sickles change. You found yourself smiling as you nestled yourself into a corner, the red wine was cheap and tasted tangy as you swallowed a big mouthful; but the warm glow you felt in your chest was welcome. It was nice to see the pub so full all things considered, there had been massive backlash towards the Ministry in their handling of the Dark Lord’s return and you wondered whether this threat would stop people going out and enjoying their lives, tonight, it appeared not.   “’Ello love, are you ‘ere by yourself?” You looked over your shoulder to see a portly man with a wide smile and flushed cheeks, his broad cockney accent was almost jarring. You managed to stop yourself rolling your eyes and offered him a curt smile. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days and a thick layer of dirt graced his face.   “No, I’m just waiting for someone.” You lied, you hoped that would be the end of the conversation, that he would take the hint and leave you to your wine. You just wanted a moment to yourself, to not have to think about the shop or the ever-impending threat of a potential Death Eater attack. You hadn’t really had a moment alone since you arrived at The Burrow all those months ago, you had left all remnants of your former life at Malfoy Manor and thrown yourself head first into anything to take your mind off what happened there. You hadn’t received a word from your parents, you didn’t expect to really, but that chance meeting you and George had had with Mr. Paris in a muggle restaurant was enough to make you shudder. You wondered if the Healers at St. Mungo’s had managed to get Mr. Paris’ two front teeth to grow back after George had punched them out of his head. Needless to say, that was a lovely restaurant that you were no longer welcome at.   “Me too. D’you want to wait together?” You had almost forgotten the stout man on your side, but his misguided determination in obtaining your attention was began to grate on you. He smiled a toothy grin and then coughed deeply, the teeth that remained in his mouth were yellow and as he coughed, he produced a stained handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth. You noticed the gold rings that adorned each finger of his hand, some of them looked to be encrusted with precious stones, but you doubted that very much. As his cough subsided, he cleared his throat and shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. He looked at you expectantly.   “No thank you, I’m sure they’ll be here any second now.” You lied again, you craned your neck in search for absolutely nobody and leaned up onto the balls of your feet. The man next to you followed suit, he tapped your arm.   “Is he over there? There’s a man coming down the stairs waving at you.” The man pointed across the room where sure enough the bottom of an old staircase was in view, and a man in the distance dressed in black held your gaze as he descended.   “Yes, that’s him! Thank you.” You said excitedly to the short man, you heard him chuntering behind you as once again you elbowed your way through the crowd, careful not to spill any of your wine. You smiled widely as you approached him.   “Professor!” You gushed, “How are you? It’s so nice to see you!” Professor Snape’s usually hard exterior softened as he regarded you, he offered his arm to you and you took it. He nestled your hand in the crook of his elbow and hastened away from the pulsing body of people.   “Miss (Y/L/N), you should not be here. It’s not safe.” Professor Snape whispered, he looked over his shoulder and you followed his gaze. You felt your body stiffen as you watched in detestation as Narcissa Malfoy approached where you stood, her repulsive husband quick on her heels.

  She was quick to disguise her shock as she saw you, Lucius merely sneered as he clasped Professor Snape on the shoulder and flounced away in a flurry of black cloth. Narcissa’s almost stoic expression faltered as you watched Lucius exit the pub, your eyes found hers as she frowned.   “Hello,” She said quietly, you stared back at her with a stony expression. You almost respected the nerve of the woman to talk to you after everything you endured at her house over the summer, you didn’t blink, you didn’t move.   “Goodnight, Narcissa. Merry Christmas.” Professor Snape said after a while, she broke her stare and nodded. She kissed Professor Snape on the cheek and made her way to the doors of the pub, you watched as she cast a look over her shoulder to you and with an obvious smile, she left.   “Come,” Professor Snape said gruffly, “Take my arm I shall apparate you home.”   “I only live up the road, Professor. I’ll walk.”   “Very well, I shall escort you.”

You walked in near silence with Professor Snape the short walk to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, you watched in amusement as the serious potions master gazed up at the giant automation head placed on the exterior of the shop removed his hat and positioned it back on his head in the dim light of Diagon Alley.   “Not ones for subtlety are they, the Weasley twins?” Professor Snape smirked; you shook your head with a chuckle.   “No, I can’t say they are.”   “Is this where you live?” He asked, you nodded and produced your wand from your bag.   “We live upstairs, the three of us.”   “Three?”   “Yeah, me, Fred and George. It’s…cosy.” Professor Snape hummed in agreement and took a step back.   “Professor?” You asked, he looked expectantly at you and you bit your lip. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you did for me at Malfoy Manor. I cannot ever repay you for your kindness, I am in your debt.” Professor Snape scowled at your emotion and took another step back.   “I was instructed to help you, Miss (Y/L/N). I did only as I was told to do.” He said somewhat unconvincingly, he averted his gaze and made to walk away. Instinctively, you reached your hand out and caught his sleeve.   “That may be the case Professor, but still, thank you.” You looked earnestly to his pale face; he shoulders slumped slightly.   “After I had received word as to what that oaf Paris had done…I did what I thought was right.” He stated, there was no over-sentimentality to his tone, like he was reading a shopping list. You decided not to press the matter further and turned toward the door to the shop.   “Professor,” You asked again, his eye roll was detectable regardless of the few feet of distance between you.   “What?” He snapped, his foot tapped impatiently on the cobbled stones.   “Why are you here? Term doesn’t finish until tomorrow. That’s not to say I’m not happy to see you, of course I-”   “I was unaware I had to run my schedule through you, Miss (Y/L/N).” Professor Snape quipped, if he tried to disguise the annoyance in his tone- he had done an extremely poor job of it.   “Of course, sorry.”   “If you must know, I arrived this afternoon. I had…business in London. Now go on, there’s only so much of your company I can stomach at one time.” You expected he was only being half serious, as his black eyes betrayed a slight softness and you smiled gently.   “Goodnight Professor, thank you for making sure I got home safely.”   “I’ll watch you inside.”

*************

  “What do you think of this, Gin?” You held up a sparkly silver top to your chest and waited for Ginny’s verdict. Ginny turned to you with wide eyes, her expression frazzled.   “No, I preferred the second one.” She thrust a red velvet dress into your hands as she frantically searched the racks of clothes for the perfect Christmas dress.   “Where’s Hermione?” You enquired, you looked over your shoulder to where George, Ron and Harry all stood by the changing rooms, their arms heavy with shopping bags. You gave George a stiff smile, dismayed when he rolled his eyes and looked away. He had been acting strangely with you all morning since you met at the shop. He had barley said two words to you until everyone had stepped off the train. You were grateful that Ginny said she needed to do some shopping and the boys had decided to tag along. In truth, George was getting on your nerves. You could tell there was something bothering him and yet, every time you asked him about it- he refused to say. Eventually, you gave up asking.   “She’s at her parents’ for Christmas this year. She’s fallen out with Ron.” Ginny replied disinterestedly as she held up a green Bardot-necked jumper dress, “What do you reckon?”   “With your hair? Stunning.” You said with a smile. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief as she folded the dress over her arm and stepped passed you towards the till. You managed to grab the dress from her and slot it over yours.   “(Y/N) what are you doing?” Ginny said as she tried to grab her dress.   “Let me get your dress Ginny, as a Christmas present.” You pleaded, she deliberated for a moment before conceding and following you to the till.   “At least let me do something for you, (Y/N).” Ginny said as she passed Ron her newest bag. He took it without thinking and then screwed up his face and passed it to Harry.   “Tell you what, why don’t you come to the flat this week and we can have a girl’s night? I’m sure the boys can make themselves scarce for an evening, couldn’t you George?” George scoffed, you slipped your arm through his and he withdrew from you, putting his hand in his pocket;   “I’m not being chased out of my own flat by my sister. Are you lot going to Floo to mums from mine?” “Yeah, might as well. It’s only round the corner, isn’t it?” Harry agreed.

  You continued your way to Diagon Alley and through the buzz of the busy joke shop, you attempted to follow Ginny up the back stairs to your flat but realised George wasn’t behind you. Instead he was deep in conversation with a frantic looking Fred who was gesticulating wildly. Good, let Fred have a taste of what you’d received from George all day. You knew better than to get involved between the pair and arrived in to the flat just as Ron disappeared into the fireplace.   “See you!” You waved as he vanished in a ripple of green flames. Harry smiled and waved as he took Ron’s previously occupied place in the fireplace and followed suit to The Burrow. As he departed, Ginny stepped toward you and enveloped you in a hug.     “I’ll owl you about this week?”   “Definitely,” You answered, “We’ll get it sorted.” You watched as Ginny entered the fireplace and disappeared. Just as the flames died, the door of your flat swung open and George entered, slamming it shut behind him.   “Woah, what’s up?”   “Fucking Fred, he couldn’t organise a piss up in a brewery.” George muttered, he threw the shopping bags forcefully onto the floor and launched himself at the sofa, burying his head into the cushions.   “Bloody hell George, do you want to be a bit more dramatic?” You scowled and stalked over to the discarded shopping bags and picked them up, carefully checking to see if anything was broken. You took them into the small kitchen they weighed a tonne. You just about managed to hoist the bags onto the worktop and sighed from the exertion.  You were pleased with yourself, you had managed to find a few absolute bargains in London today which seldom never happened near Christmas. You had managed to buy nearly everything on your Christmas list; new baubles for the Christmas tree were the only thing left to buy. You had vehemently refused to let Fred design your Christmas decorations and instead saved the money you had earned from working in the shop to decorate the flat to your specific Christmas standards. You balled the carrier bags up and opened up a cupboard and shoved them deep inside as you placed the contents of the bags to display to George.   “George, come and have a look at what I’ve got today. Just the last few bits n-”    “And how much did this all cost?” He demanded; George; who was now stood hovering over your shopping looked furious as you jumped. You shook your head in shock, George had never spoken to you like that and you weren’t going to take it from him now.   “It’s Christmas, George. You buy presents for people at Christmas.”   “That’s all well and good when it’s not your money you’re spending.” George spat; your jaw dropped open for a split second before your face darkened.   “Are you taking the piss? You think I’ve been spending your money?”   “Well I don’t remember the last time you went to Gringotts, seeing as we do everything together.” He sneered and placed his hands on his hips. You offered him a sneer of your own.   “What is wrong with you? You’ve been awful all day.” You said, you moved across the tiny kitchen to where he stood.   “Merlin (Y/N), can’t I just be pissed off at you spending all the money? We don’t have much and between you and Fred we’re going to be out on our arses before New Year.” George’s voice was low and filled with spite. It took you by surprise, your normally lovely, cheerful boyfriend was replaced by this poison spitting man.   “Well I’ll tell you what George, you can take all this stuff that I’ve bought for your family with my money back to the shops and I’ll just fuck off, shall I?”   “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  You didn’t need to be told twice. You pushed past a seething George towards your bedroom and pointed your wand at your wardrobe and levitated your clothes into an open and waiting suitcase. It took longer than expected for George to appear in the doorway, but he did; arms folded across his chest. You were too angry to be upset, in that moment pure fury coursed through your veins as George’s accusations reverberated around your mind. How dare he talk to you like that? When your suitcase was packed, you locked it with a swish of your wand and pushed past George again, your shoulder made contact with his chest, but he didn’t flinch.   “Where are you going?” He asked with a bite in his tone.   “I don’t know. I’m fucking off, aren’t I?”   “Going to meet Snape again?” You were shocked at that. You turned slowly; George’s face was as red as his hair as he met your eyes slowly.   “Excuse me?”   “That’s where you went last night wasn’t it? You went to meet up with Snape.” Your brow furrowed as you tried to process what George was saying, he didn’t give you a chance to respond. “You were seen leaving the pub together looking very chummy, (Y/N).”   “I bumped into him in the pub and he walked me home.”   “Convenient.” George muttered.   “Why are you being a dick?” You demanded, your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand shook with rage.   “Why were you so desperate to leave Grimmauld Place?” He stepped closer to you, almost closing the distance. The heat radiated from him in waves, what was normally so intoxicating to you, you now found infuriating.   “I told you, I was tired and I wanted to be at home. Why would I want to stick around somewhere where I’m not wanted, George?”   “You have to understand how it looks (Y/N). You, leaving Order headquarters to go and meet up with Severus Snape.”   “Are you accusing me of being a Death Eater now?”   “Are you saying Snape’s a Death Eater?”   “No!”

George panted as he regarded you, his eyes wild. You could see the cogs of his brain ticking as he watched you.   “Then why were you with him?” He asked quietly. Your hands trembled with rage as you tried to calm yourself.   “I told you, he walked me home. Were you spying on me?” Your hand tensed around the handle of your suitcase, he said you were seen. Seen by who?   “Don’t need to, it’s not like nobody knows who you are.”   “What does that even mean? George, you’re not making any sense!” You exclaimed, you hated this. You wanted it to be over, you wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.   “Are you fucking him?” George eventually asked, his eyes narrowed into slits as he awaited your response. Unfortunately, he wasn’t to receive one.  

  You didn’t know where you were going. You couldn’t go back to The Burrow, not after the argument. The thought of having to explain to Molly what George had said to you made you feel sick. She had been so kind to you, and if George suspected you of foul play, it was almost certain that Molly already knew. You couldn’t go back to Grimmauld Place either, you weren’t sure if there would be any members of the Order there; and potentially being alone with Sirius was absolutely out of the question. You walked solemnly along the cobbled road away from the shop, your suitcase squeaked as it rolled across the uneven stones; the only sound in the eerily quiet of the early evening. You still hadn’t formulated a plan, not even when you ordered a coffee and tucked yourself away in a corner of The Leaky Cauldron. You knew Professor Snape had warned you against being there, but it was the only place you could feasibly go. You half hoped George would have followed you; that he would appear looking very ashamed and apologise for his words. But alas, as the night grew darker and more and more people arrived into the pub, it became painfully clear that he wasn’t coming. You were alone.

  You spied Tom talking to the witch who had served you the night before, she was beaming as she joked with her boss. She had such a kind face, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you watched her engage a few patrons in raucous conversation. She clearly enjoyed the attention; she threw her head back in laughter as though she didn’t have a care in the world. That must be nice. You stood and cast a sticking charm to your suitcase, ensuring it wouldn’t be stolen or tampered with and made your way to the bar. The young witch smiled brightly as you approached, her hand already extended for your empty coffee mug.   “Would you like another?” She asked, you shook your head as you tentatively placed your hands on the bar top. You instantly regretted it as, as soon as your hands touched the marked wood, they became incredibly sticky.   “No thank you, I am wondering whether you have any rooms available, though?” You asked as nonchalantly as you could, the young witch nodded.   “I’ll just go and check with Tom.” She disappeared through a door behind the bar and you stood patiently and waited, you glanced over your shoulder to where you had left your suitcase and saw the portly man from the night before eying it suspiciously. You watched him as he gave your suitcase a sly kick, and when he noticed it didn’t move an inch, tried an even more forceful one. You arched an eyebrow as his shoulders slumped in defeat.   “’Ello deary!” He called as he noticed you watching him. “Knew I’d bump into you again. Mundungus Fletcher.” He leaned forward and extended his hand to you and you shook it. You watched with delight as the man pulled his now sticky hand away and wiped it unsuccessfully on his pinstriped trousers. “’Ave to say, I was surprised to see a pretty young fing like you making off wiv Severus Snape last night. Never knew the old sod ‘ad it in ‘im!” You fought the scathing retort that threatened to fall off your tongue at the second insinuation of a sexual relationship with Professor Snape you had received within a few hours. You looked indignantly at Mundungus who snapped his fingers at the kind witch behind the bar. She rolled her eyes to you and began to serve him, as Tom followed slowly and approached you with an apologetic look.   “Are you after a room, miss?” He asked.   “Yes, anything you have is fine. It’s only for me.” You answered hurriedly, you produced your purse from the pocket of your coat and set it on the bar top.   “That’s just the thing miss, all our single rooms have gone what with it being so close to Christmas. The only thing I’ve got left it the Merlin Room. And it’s Fifty Galleons a night I’m afraid.” Fucking hell, that was a lot of money. Certainly, more than what you had in your purse. You chewed your lip as you opened up the black leather purse and scooped out the golden coins and placed them in Tom’s waiting hand.   “That should be Thirty there Tom, you keep hold of that and I’ll run to Gringotts for the rest now.”   “’Ow much is it, girl?” Mundungus called from your side.   “We’re short Twenty Galleons.” Tom answered plainly, his hand still outstretched. Mundungus reached deep into the pockets of his pinstripes and produced a load of gold pieces.   “Is tha’ enough, mate?” Mundungus replied, he dropped the coins into Tom’s hand before you could protest. You looked bewilderedly from the innkeeper to the grubby man, Tom closed his had around the coins like a Venus fly-trap around a fly and smiled.   “I’ll just fetch you the key, miss.”

  Your cheeks were hot as you turned to Mundungus, it was made all the worse when you realised how bloody pleased he seemed with himself.   “Thank you.” You managed curtly, “I was more than capable of walking to the bank and back though, Mr. Fletcher.”   “Jus’ fink of it as a bit’a human kindness. Remember it next time you see someone in a bind.”   “You don’t even know me. I could be anyone.” You replied, you were becoming increasingly annoyed by this man’s insistence in intruding in your life.   “That’s where you’re wrong miss, I knows all abou’ you.” He smiled what was probably intended as a sweet smile, but it sent a shiver down your spine; he was menacing, this man. You didn’t like being in his debt. “The banks’ closed now anyway.” He sniffed.   “Forgive me, Mr. Fletcher,” You began carefully, “I simply cannot allow myself to be in debt to you. Please let me pay you back immediately.” You waited for him to reply, your breath was coming short and you felt wildly out of your depth. You had seen both of your parents give people verbal lashings and negotiate alike, they made it seem so easy. You yourself had never been afraid of confrontation, but you were theirs then; you were known. You had the protection of your ancient family name- now, you were nobody. That frightened you. Mundungus laughed quietly, he brought his hand to his mouth as his laughter turned into a chesty cough. The stones in his rings glistened in the lamplight, his handkerchief even more stained than yesterday. He sighed when his cough stopped, a great, whisky scented sigh that permeated around your face. It took everything within your power to not wretch.   “’Fing is miss, I’m not sure you can give me what I’m after.” He said with a sneer, you outwardly cringed. His eyes travelled the length of you, glancing twice at your bosom. You fought the bile that rose in your throat.   “And what is it, that you’re after exactly, Mr. Fletcher?” You asked through gritted teeth. You watched as Mundungus sighed and leant casually against the bar. He looked over both shoulders before he leaned in to you, his face inches from yours.   “Information.” He breathed with his whisky breath; you couldn’t help but flinch.   “Information?” You repeated, Mundungus nodded. “What kind of information?”   “Y’see, I am a salesman as well as a collector, miss. I sells what I collects, and I collects what I sells. And wha’ I’m wanting to sell now, is your privacy, miss.” He whispered; his face even closer to you. You could feel his vile breath on your face as your eyes widened in shock.   “Goodnight, Mr. Fletcher.” You whispered as your face paled, you tried to move past him, but Mundungus caught hold of your sleeve and pulled your back flush to his torso.   “No, no no.” He muttered. “I knows who you are, miss. I knows all about you, I even knows your boyfriend, miss! One of those Weasley boys, ain’t it? One of those twins, I’m sure.” You whimpered as Mundungus fiddled with the hair at the nape of your neck.   “I don’t know what you’re talking about, please let me go.” You felt tears sting your eyes as Mundungus’ hold on you relaxed slightly. You lurched forward away from him in time to see Tom walk around the bar, room key in hand, a concerned look on his face.

  “Everything alright, miss?” Tom asked, he looked between you and Mundungus. Mundungus gestured to you and you nodded with a strained smile, Tom dropped the key into your hand and turned back the way he came. You made to follow him but Mundungus was quicker on his feet than you had anticipated, his hand on your shoulder in an instant. You desperately tried to think what exactly he was trying to extract from you.   “Now ‘ush miss, I don’t want no fuss.” Mundungus breathed, he patted your shoulder awkwardly and you trembled beneath him. “I’ll strike a deal wiv ya, ‘ow does that sound?”   “A deal? What kind of deal?”   “Good girl.” He smiled his yellow smile and gestured to the table where your almost forgotten suitcase still sat, stuck to the floor.   “You said you’ve got money?” Mundungus mused as he sat across from you, wand stealthily pointed at you from his sleeve. “’Ow much you talkin’?”   “About three hundred Galleons. In my savings.” You lied, there was about three hundred Galleons in the Gringotts vault you shared with George; but you still had access to your parents’ vault. You initially refused to take any money from it, but surely, they would have instructed the goblins to remove your access if they didn’t want you to use it. Besides, there was thousands upon thousands of Galleons in there. But Mundungus didn’t have to know that. You could see his face fall as he mulled over your words.   “Hmm. Right. Tell you wha’, I’m feeling nice tonight. You meet me ‘ere again tomorrow night, same time and bring me one-hundred-and-fifty Galleons. Wha’ I paid for you tonight, plus a little extra- for my trouble, and I won’t tell your boyfriend tha’ your fancy man is waiting for you over there.” Mundungus pointed towards the other side of the pub and as you searched through the crowd you saw him, Professor Snape sat silently by himself; his eyes burned into yours. Your cheeks flushed scarlet.   “Mr. Fletcher. Don’t be vile, Professor Snape and I don’t have any kind of relationship other than a strictly platonic one.”   “Tha’ don’t matter. One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”   “You’re trying to blackmail me. Why?” You demanded, you willed your voice not to betray your weakening resolve.   “A mans got to eat, miss. It is nearly Christmas after all.” Mundungus said cheerfully.   “But I haven’t done anything wrong.” You pleaded, desperate to understand what was happening, it seemed like a lifetime since you left the flat. You wondered if George was worried.   “You try tellin’ your fella that after I tell ‘im I seen you two nights in a row, up close and personal wiv Professor Snape.” He said with a shrug, so fucking nonchalant. “You might not know this about me, miss. But I’ve known Weasley’s for years, we go way back. They ‘ave no reason not to believe me. And I know wha’ I saw last night.”   “You didn’t see anything, you loathsome twit. Why would you interfere in my life like that?” You snapped; you were angry now you knew you weren’t in any immediate danger. He didn’t appear so frightening from the other side of the table, especially now you knew you were being watched. The horrid man didn’t even blink.   “People talk. One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.” Mundungus repeated, “Or I go I straight to Grimmauld Place right now and see who’s in. And you’d still owe me Twenty Galleons plus interest.” He offered you another grim smile as he pulled out his rotten handkerchief to dab at his brow. All this blackmail must be hard work for him. “’Fink of it as givin’ to the less fortunate at Christmas.”  “You’re vile.”   “One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”

  You nodded grimly at the repulsive man and stood slowly, you made your way across the busy room, suitcase in one hand and room key in the other. You slowed and stopped just parallel to where Professor Snape sat.   “I need to talk to you.” You muttered quietly, not looking in the potions master’s direction. “Not here.”   “Where?” He answered, his voice low and his attention seemingly elsewhere. You dropped your room key on the floor and as you bent to pick it up, you flashed the number in his direction. He gave a short, sharp nod and you walked away hurriedly, up the creaking staircase to your room.

******

  The room was to be expected. It was nicer than most of the rooms The Leaky Cauldron boasted, but still nothing compared to the luxuries you were used to. The bed at least, was large and there was a big-ish wardrobe. Nowhere worth the Fifty Galleons you had paid to stay though, you wished wholeheartedly that you hadn’t walked out of the flat. You wished you had just stayed at Grimmauld Place that night, none of this would have happened if you had. You tried to be angry at George, you just didn’t have it in you anymore. You even tried to be angry at Sirius for not trusting you, for making you feel so uncomfortable. It wasn’t any use, any resentment you harboured for Sirius Black had been shifted onto the revolting creature that was Mundungus Fletcher.

   You washed yourself thoroughly in the tiny shower of the Merlin Room, anxious to get any whisper of that horrid man from your skin. You couldn’t wrap your head around how anybody could be so cruel, the only saving grace about the whole situation was that you finally knew how George had grown to be suspicious of you. If what Mundungus said was true, then he intercepted George that morning before you had met him and spilled poisoned seeds into the ear of your beloved with the intent of blackmailing you. What a hateful snake. But, on the other hand, you were disheartened at the thought of how quick George was to believe the tales of your supposed infidelity. With Professor Snape of all people, you couldn’t help but laugh sardonically at the idea that of all the men in the world, George thought the obvious choice for your unfaithfulness was Severus fucking Snape.

  You dressed quickly into your night clothes and pointed your wand at your hair, it dried instantly, and you tried to relax. You poured a large glass of wine from the bottle that sat invitingly on the bedside table. It was nicer than the wine they served behind the bar downstairs, and you welcomed it as it warmed you from your toes up. Your stomach rumbled, you hadn’t eaten anything since that morning and you began to feel fatigued, the effects of the day catching up with you. You wondered how long Professor Snape would make you wait; would he wait until everybody else left before creeping up the stairs to your room? It sounded so sordid, you thought. He certainly had to wait for Mundungus to leave before he made his move, else you would no doubt find yourself with an even bigger debt to settle. Merlin, you thought, if he were to wait for Mundungus to leave, you’ll be sat waiting until New Years Eve. You tried to busy yourself by searching the room, it was warmer than it looked. The stone walls projected an almost medieval atmosphere, but with the fire burning contentedly, you were satisfied that it could be considered quite cosy. The curtains were almost as moth-eaten as the ones in Grimmauld Place and nearly as old too, and you felt as uneasy in the room as you did in Grimmauld Place.

  It wasn’t long after you had settled sat on the bed was there a knock on the door. You scurried to it and opened it slightly, a sliver of light from the hallway encroached into your room and framed Professor Snape’s dark head as you granted him admittance. He closed the door swiftly behind him, but remained stood awkwardly, not quite able to meet your gaze. Instead, you pulled up two chairs by the fireplace. The wooden legs of the chairs scraped uneasily across the stone floor, but you persevered and gestured for your old professor to sit. You grabbed your wine and poured another into a glass for Professor Snape which he accepted tentatively.   “Thank you for coming.” You began as you sat in the chair opposite his, you tucked your legs under you in an attempt to be comfortable. It earned an arched eyebrow from Professor Snape.   “What did you want to talk about?” Professor Snape said, not wasting any time. You cleared your throat and took another sip of wine and your stomach grumbled again in protest; you ignored it.   “I’m being blackmailed by Mundungus Fletcher.” You replied plainly, no need to beat around the bush.  “Ah,” said Professor Snape, he brought his wine glass to lips and drank slowly. “I see. How much?”  “One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”   “Do you have it?” He asked, you nodded quickly. “Then I don’t see the issue.”   “The issue is that this concerns you, as well Professor.” You said quietly, your cheeks felt warm as his gaze scrutinised you. It was like being back at school.   “Please enlighten me, Miss (Y/L/N).”   “Mundungus Fletcher has told George that he suspects I’m having an affair, sir. He has told me to pay him the money by tomorrow evening, or he will tell George that what he suspects is true, that he’s seen it with his own eyes. The affair is supposedly with you, sir.” You winced and waited for Professor Snape to say something, anything; but he didn’t. He sat there, an ashen look on his already pale face as he took another tender sip of his wine.   “I shouldn’t be here.” Professor Snape stated finally, he wasn’t asking. You couldn’t help but nod, he was right. Under the circumstances, he absolutely shouldn’t be here, no matter how innocuous the meeting.   “Perhaps not,” You said quietly, “I don’t know what to do.”   “Well you’re certainly not going to pay the little cretin, that’s for sure,” Professor Snape said with a frown, “Allow me to deal with Mundungus.” Professor Snape titled his wine glass almost vertically as he drained what was left in his glass, you raised your eyebrows at his show but kept your mouth closed. Professor Snape stood and in two swift movements had opened the door and turned to you with a dark look.   “I shall return.” And with that, he closed the door behind him, in the near silence of your room you could still hear his footsteps on the stone floor as he walked away. You mulled over your situation for a few moments, swirling the contents of your glass sullenly. You were sick to the back teeth of being a hapless damsel in distress, yes, you had endured some questionable fates in your short adulthood; but this one seemed to border on the ridiculous. You hadn’t done anything wrong, not a single thing and yet you sat in a lonely room feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. Why? Why when you had no idea there were men as repugnant as Mundungus Fletcher out there who would create fantasies and try and profit from them? No more, you thought. Not this time.

  You stood quickly and instantly regretted the decision, your glass of wine had gone straight to your head on account of your empty stomach. You blinked and tried to refocus your vision, when you were satisfied you made your way to the wardrobe. Grasping your heavy winter cloak, you draped it around your shoulders and pulled the hood over your head covering your face, and made your way quietly out of the room. You had no idea what time it was, the pub was full now as you came down the stairs. A few patrons looked over in your direction as you weaved through the crowd, looking for any sign of Professor Snape or Mundungus Fletcher. There was none, you scoured every corner and came up short. You cursed under your breath and exited the pub; the wind whipped around your body and caused your hair to stand on end as you looked out into the near empty street now pitch black. There was a scuffling sound to your left, and then a crash as if something large and metal had been dropped.  You retrieved your wand and cast a nonverbal Lumos and followed the sound, you walked apprehensively down the alleyway behind The Leaky Cauldron, even with the light emanating from your wand, there was still much you couldn’t see. Wasn’t there an old adage about young witches walking down alleyways alone at night? You tried to push such thoughts from your mind as the sounds of scuffling increased, joined by hushed voices. You rounded a sharp corner into an even darker part of the alley, like a labyrinth of brick and mortar.   “Nox.” You whispered, you lowered your wand but your grip around it tightened, ready for whatever you might meet.

  “You disgusting, verminous cur-” You heard a deep voice, a snarl more than anything else. You continued your pursuit of the commotion and nearly gasped when you saw Professor Snape with his hand around Mundungus’ throat, his other hand pressed his wand into Mundungus’ cheek. You tried to make your body flush with the wall, trying desperately to disappear into the darkness. The sounds of Mundungus’ struggle were palpable now as you tried to steady your breathing.   “S-Sev..erus! Come on mate, let me go!” Mundungus managed, his hand splayed against the cold brick and Professor Snape pressed harder into Mundungus’ face with his wand. Mundungus spluttered in fear and Professor Snape growled and lowered his face close to Mundungus’ ear and you stepped forward slightly so as not to miss anything that was said.   “Did you think you could get away with intimidating a young woman?” Professor Snape spat, “Not only that, a Slytherin born into one of the oldest families in Britain?” He paused and Mundungus flinched, you wondered if Professor Snape had tightened his hold of Mundungus’ throat as a line of spittle had appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I would like to believe you are not that dense, Mundungus, and yet here we are.”   “I saw an…opportunity Severus…you knows wha’ it’s like,” Mundungus struggled to get his words out, his voice was thin with strain. “She’s got loads’a money, she won’ miss a’undred or so Galleons!”   “That may be true, but you have no right to play with the poor girl. And how much were you going to charge her tomorrow as interest for your silence?” Mundungus was quiet then as Professor Snape finished speaking. The bastard! Hatred began to build within you as you watched Mundungus try to nod.   “Alrigh’, Severus. Please.”

  Professor Snape removed his hand slowly from Mundungus’ throat and took a step back, his wand still aimed directly at Mundungus’ face. Mundungus bent over and coughed, he rubbed his neck and breathed deeply.   “Come.” Professor Snape snapped, he prodded his wand against Mundungus’ shoulder and pointed down the alleyway, in the direction where you stood.   “Fucks sake, Severus. Where are we going?” Mundungus whined. Professor Snape snarled and resumed his close proximity to the stout man.   “We’re going to pay the Weasley’s a visit, you and me.” He snarled and panic flashed across Mundungus’ face.   “Wha’? Now?” Mundungus asked incredulously, “It’s the middle of the nigh’!”   “Precisely, it should all be fresh in your mind shouldn’t it?” Mundungus sighed and straightened his moth-eaten jacket.   “She still owes me Twenty Galleons for the room though.” The dirty man stated indignantly, Severus snarled, and, in a flash, his dark clothed arm swung, and the clatter of coins echoed across the alley. Mundungus scrabbled to the floor to retrieve the coins and Professor Snape laughed without humour.   “Here.” He ordered and Mundungus flitted to your professor’s side submissively. He took hold of Mundungus’ arm and apparated out of the alley.

  You exhaled sharply and pulled your hood back from your face. Could it be that easy, really? In a matter of minutes Professor Snape had once again come to your aid with no talk of thanks, and it troubled you. You walked slowly back to The Leaky Cauldron and sluggishly made your way back to your room.

**********

  You hadn’t realised you had fallen asleep until a faint knock on the door woke you. You opened your bleary eyes and ran a hand across them, yawning widely as you opened the door. A rather tired looking Professor Snape stood before you, arms folded, and a scowl adorned his face.   “I’ve been knocking for what felt like years.” He said grumpily as he followed you into the room. You yawned again and sat in the armchair you had previously occupied earlier in the evening, Professor Snape followed suit.   “Sorry, I must have dozed off.” You said quietly, you were suddenly extremely anxious to find out what Professor Snape had to say. Rather than reporting to you what transpired in the hours he had been gone; he closed his eyes. You stared rather dumbfounded as his hands that he had clasped in his lap fell apart. Was he asleep? Of all the fucking ways you thought your day was going to go, staying in The Leaky Cauldron with Professor Snape asleep in your armchair was definitely not in the top one hundred. You chewed your lip deliberating what to do. Realistically, you should wake him. He would be mortified when he awoke to find he had fallen asleep in your room, but there was something in the peaceful rising and falling of his chest that stopped you. You hadn’t really looked at him before then, but you noticed the dark circles around his eyes and how gaunt his face looked. Yes, he was always bony but at that moment in time, he looked ill. You sighed and fetched your cloak which still held the chill from your excursion outside and pulled it over Professor Snape and tucked it under his chin.

  You climbed uneasily into bed and pulled the cover tight to your chest, willing sleep to come. Professor Snape snored lightly in his chair and you covered your mouth to suppress the giggle that threatened to escape. This bordered on some of the more absurd things that had happened to you and you lamented as to how you had reached this point. You must have stared at the ceiling for hours, at least it felt like hours, birds chirped happily outside of the window and finally, you felt your eyelids become heavy.

  When you awoke, the room was full of light. The curtains were drawn back and the fire roared in its place.   “Good morning.” At the sound of Professor Snape’s voice you almost jumped out of your skin, your heart thundered against your chest and you flung your hands over your eyes. He was stood behind the chair he had fallen asleep in, but the small table was filled with food.   “Fuck!” You exclaimed as you clutched your chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”   “Yes, I have that effect on people.” Professor Snape mused, a small smirk on his face. You stared at him for a moment, just a fleeting moment, a smile crept to your lips.   “Sleep well?” You asked, feeling instantly full of glee as a tiny blush inched over Professor Snape’s cheeks. He averted his gaze and gestured to the table laden with pastries and meats, but most importantly, coffee. You stomach betrayed your hunger as a mortifyingly loud rumble echoed throughout the room. You groaned and got out of bed; the cold floor made your feet tingle as you padded over to the table. You shoved half a croissant into your mouth and moaned as the buttery, flaky goodness melted there. Professor Snape cleared his throat. You shot him an apologetic look and continued devouring the treat. Picking up a mug of piping hot coffee you sat in the armchair and hooked your legs underneath you. Professor Snape joined you with a mug of his own and took a great gulp, sighing as he rested the mug on his thigh.   “I didn’t know they did breakfast here.” You said after a brief silence, the coffee was delicious, strong and sweet; exactly the way you liked it.   “They don’t, I went home when I woke up this morning and brought this here.” He said as he stared intently into the fire.   “You made me breakfast?” You enquired, rather taken aback at this act of kindness.   “I made myself breakfast, I just happened to make enough for you as well.” He said flatly, you rolled your eyes into your coffee but decided not to press the matter further. “I spoke to George last night.” Your ears pricked at the mention of George, you sat up straight eager for Professor Snape to continue. “Well, I should say Mundungus spoke to George last night. I was simply there to…supervise.” A sly smile tugged at his lips as he drank again from his mug.   “And?” You pressed, you wished you could have been there to see what happened. How George reacted, what he would have thought to Mundungus and Severus Snape knocking at his door at Merlin-knows what time. “Was he at the flat?” You asked.   “No, he has joined his family at The Burrow. We went to Grimmauld Place first and Shacklebolt told me where he was.”

  George had gone to The Burrow? Probably to tell his family all about your fight. Your stomach turned at the memory of how you had spoken to each other, of how he had doubted you.   “Needless to say, everything has been thoroughly put right. Mundungus Fletcher won’t be bothering you again.” He continued. You sighed a breath of relief, it was sorted. Everything was sorted. But why didn’t you feel better?   “I’m really sorry, Professor. Yet again you have been dragged into my dramas.” You said wistfully, you meant it too. Professor Snape has shown you such kindness when he had no obligation to, it was endearing.   “Shut up. I have a reputation to maintain. I will not allow my name to be dragged through any licentious plots, real or fabricated by a common street thief.” Professor Snape said, an edge of bitterness twinged his words. You felt you understood. It was not right for him, a man eighteen years your senior- your old professor no less, to be embroiled in any scandal with an ex student, no matter how innocent it might be. You offered him a small nod and watched as he took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, he gave you a cursory glance before he asked; “Do you mind?”

  You shook your head, and he placed a cigarette between his teeth and lit it. With a flick of his wand, the window flew open and the chilly December air flowed into the room, eliciting a shiver from you. You watched him as he took a long drag, the smoke twirled in beautiful shapes above his head before disappearing into nothing.   “I wonder what you think of me, sir. You must think I’m a mess.” You smiled sadly; he lifted a hand to stop you.   “On the contrary, I think you’re doing rather well given the circumstances.” He paused to take another drag of his cigarette. You placed your coffee mug on the floor and wrapped your arms around your body against the chill. “I’m returning to Hogwarts for the Christmas break. My business is finished in London, and I detest being here so my house will be empty. If you have need of somewhere to go.” You eyed him suspiciously. He stared blankly at you, as if he had just asked you the time.   “You’re offering me your house?”   “You may stay in my house whilst I am away. I understand you are short of options at this time.” You shook your head; it was all a bit much. Had you saved Professor Snape from a terrible fate in a previous life or something?   “Professor,” You faltered, your breath came quickly. “Why are you doing all this for me? I can’t imagine you go to this much trouble for all your old students?”   “Don’t be ungrateful.” He chastised, he tossed his cigarette into the fire and it roared in acceptance. He sat straight in his chair and leaned forward. “It may come as a shock to you, but not everyone means you harm, (Y/N).”

  That was the first time he had used your given name.   “I just don’t understand why-”   “If you don’t want my help, then I shall take my leave.”   “No!” You said, “No. Stay, please. Sorry, I’m just…struggling, I suppose. Everything seems to be happening a million miles a minute and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” You felt tears sting in the corners of your eyes. “I am so appreciative of you, sir. You have done more than my own family would have done. Thank you.”   “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Professor Snape muttered under his breath, you could have enquired further, but decided not to.   “So, how did you leave things last night? With George?”   “Well, obviously he felt very foolish. He was absolutely incensed with Mundungus, I feared for his safety at one point. He said he would seek you out at some time today.”   “…Oh.”   “He wanted to come last night, but Molly intervened. Said you’d probably relish the time alone.”

  Which you did, well you would have done, if you were alone. Your heart leaped at the idea of seeing George soon, but just as quick as your excitement grew, it was extinguished by a feeling of disquiet. George had said some really hateful things to you, he had been so quick to assume you had slighted him and refused to see reason when you challenged him. You had never thought that George could be like that, it made you uneasy.   “This displeases you?” Professor Snape said, his voice twinged with amusement. “I thought you’d be climbing the walls with excitement.” You ignored his dig and walked slowly to the window; it was really very cold now. You watched as people meandered from shop to shop, children laughed full of Christmas cheer. You smiled sadly as you watched them, that was you once. Your father would hoist you onto his shoulders and you would race down the streets of Diagon Alley, singing songs and laughing. This was to be your first Christmas without them, your parents. And whilst they had hurt you beyond measure, you found in that moment you missed them terribly, even your cold and indifferent mother. She would have a glass or two of sherry on Christmas night and invite you to sit at her feet as she stroked your hair. But that part of your life was well and truly over with now, a memory to be forgotten in time. A part of you that was dead, and nobody mourned. Sad really, wasn’t it?

“I am going to leave now, (Y/N). Thank you for letting me sleep. I’ve been so tired, I’ve got so much to do I- well, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.” Professor Snape said from his chair behind you. “I’m travelling back to Hogwarts today.”   “Have a safe journey.” You replied, you made your way across the room and offered your hand to Professor Snape to shake. He arched an eyebrow in amusement and took your hand, he shook it roughly. He nodded once and left. Alone, absolutely, definitely alone. Turmoil, absolute, definite turmoil. You hadn’t noticed Professor Snape had slipped a piece of parchment into your hand until it dropped to the floor, you picked it up inquisitively.

65 Spinner’s End, Cokeworth. If you have need, you need only knock.

Severus

*********

  Your suitcase trundled behind you sarcastically as snowflakes drifted aimlessly to the ground. You snatched your cloak tight around your chest as you cursed yourself for not packing a pair of gloves. The Burrow was quiet, you could tell from the stillness of the garden. There was usually a creature of some sort causing absolute chaos in the hedgerows, but not today. You steeled yourself against the wind as you approached the front door, you could hear voices on the other side; not the usual calamitous laughing but a stillness you hadn’t expected. You knocked once and pushed the door open; it was warm and the heat stung as it hit your near frozen cheeks. Fred was the first one to spot you as you removed your cloak from your shoulders and hung it delicately onto a peg by the front door, careful not to get anything wet. He moved towards you and took a cold hand and gave it a squeeze before he said;   “He’s in the kitchen.”

  Indeed, he was, George stared absently out of the kitchen window, mug of tea in hand. He didn’t hear you as you came in, you took a seat at the table and waited. It must have been minutes before he turned around, you weren’t sure if George was aware there was someone staring into the back of his head or whether he had run out of tea, but nevertheless, he turned. A multitude of emotions flashed over his face as he regarded you, you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible as you stared up into the face of the one person you loved more than anything in the world.   “(Y/N),” George whispered, “I’ve missed you.”   “I think we should talk, George.”  

[calmsweetcreature]

Watch and Learn (C.H)

Category: M

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Calum and you are enjoying your breakfast, but Calum’s still hungry. Oh and you get some visitors.

A/N: So I’ve re-fallen in love with the 5sos boys and I want to express myself through the art of fanfiction again. Had this idea and wanted to get it down! Enjoy some smutty smut smut.!

It was the best start to the weekend that you could imagine, dancing around the kitchen in fluffy socks and an oversized tee as you cooked breakfast at 11am. 

Calum sat at the kitchen island on his phone, occasionally laughing at your dance moves. You knew the boys were coming around that afternoon and wanted to give Cal a decent meal before he got whisked away with the lads. You set the plate in front of him and he pulled you towards him by the front of your tshirt, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. 

“Thank you for the food, you’re too good to me kitten.” His words are mumbled against your lips and your cheeks glow red as you smile against his kiss. You weren’t a housewife by any means but you did love how grateful Cal was when you did things like this. 

You both ate, casual conversation filling the room as you laugh together. You patter towards the fridge, looking for some juice as Calum clears the table. You hear the plates drop into the sink as you stretch your body out lazily, your tee lifting to show a pair of mint green lacy undies underneath.

You hear a choked breath behind you and grin, feeling his eyes on you. You make a show of it and bend lower to reach the juice on the bottom shelf. 

You feel a hand on your hip pulling your lower half against the front of his as his other hand pulls on your shoulder before sliding round your neck to pull your face back for a kiss. It’s a sloppy wet kiss and you can feel your stomach tighten as his hand tangles in your fluffy bed hair, giving it a small tug. You both pull away for air, panting slightly. 

“You liked your breakfast then?” You tease, grinding your backside against his growing bulge in his shorts.

He laughs, nuzzling his lips onto the skin where your neck and shoulder meet. You whine softly, the contact of his mouth sending direct heat to your core. 

“You know, I think I’m still hungry.” His words register and you tilt your head back on his shoulder as his mouth roams your neck. He starts to walk backwards, his lips still attached to your neck as the fridge door swings shut. You definitely weren’t thinking about juice anymore.

His hands hold your hips and turn you around, his hands sliding down to your thighs and picking you up, placing you down on the island.

“You know our bedroom is down the corridor right?” Your words come out husky and you blush, your body betraying you by revealing just how turned on you are.

“I’m well aware of that Y/N, it’s still too far. Plus this is where I eat right?” He winks at you and you smirk, biting your lower lip. His hands slide up your thighs, hooking his pointer and middle fingers in the waistline of your underwear and pulling them down, quirking an eyebrow at you to get you to raise your hips - not that you needed any encouragement. He leans down and kisses your knee, slowly trailing his mouth up your thigh, leaving little nips and kisses along your skin. His other hand pushes your other knee to widen your legs, pushing the tee out of the way so that you are on full display.

“Cal please.” Your eyes meet his and you plead with him. You run your tongue over your suddenly dry bottom lip and his eyes follow the movement, a grin on his face. 

“I like it when you beg, baby.” He leans up and kisses you softly, his tongue running over your lip as he brings a hand up. He presses his thumb onto your chin to open your mouth, his tongue pushing against yours in a hot wet kiss.

“Please cal, I need you to kiss me.” You mumble against his lips and he chuckles darkly, his free hand gripping your thigh so tightly you know a bruise will form.

“Where kitten? Here?” His lips kiss along your jawline softly. 

“No,” your voice is a barely there whisper.

“Here?” His lips travel across your sensitive neck and one of your hands tangle in his hair, guiding his mouth against your neck.

“No.” The word comes out in a gasp as he sucks the skin of your neck, biting it softly before smoothing his tongue over in gentle licks.

He mouths your skin, dipping his head to your braless boobs, mouthing over the t-shirt on the pebbled nipples that can be seen through the material. His mouth carries on, skipping where you need him to suck on the skin of your thigh. 

“Cal,” You whine out his name, your legs spreading wider over the edge of the counter, your hips jutting forward slightly. 

“Beg.” Your cheeks blush dark as you look down at the plump mouth of the man between your thighs. 

“Please baby. Please, I just need you to- Oh god Cal please I need it so bad.” Your words are feverish, your eyes dark and your lips swollen and pink from his kisses. Your cheeks are blushed pink and all Calum can think about is making you cry from pleasure.

“You’re such a fucking good girl.” His words make you gasp before you choke out a breath, Calum’s tongue having swiped from your hot soaked entrance all the way up to your throbbing clit in a wet hot lick.

“Fuck,” You shout, your fingers gripping his hair to keep him in place, his lips curling around your bud and sucking as hard as he physically can. You’re so sensitive that this makes you throw your head back and whine loudly. He flattens his tongue, repeatedly licking your nub in such a speed that you grind your hips up against his face.

He groans against you, the sound vibrating against your plump dripping skin. One of his hands slides underneath the tee up to your chest, his fingers searching a swollen nipple which he pinches - hard. You cry out, vaguely aware of the sound of a click of metal in the distance. You grip Calum by the hair, about to ask him to stop when he slides two fingers roughly inside you and curls them up to find your g-spot.

You choke out a sob, writhing against the intense stimulation of wet slippery tongue and the rough fucking of his fingers. 

“Oh fuck Cal.” You cry, rocking both away from and closer to the intense sensations.

“Oh fuck indeed.” A low gravelly voice whispers from the left of you and you open your eyes to see Luke, Michael and Ashton staring from the kitchen doorway. You squeal, pushing at Calum’s head as hard as you can trying to get him to stop. “Cal you need to fucking stop, the boys are here.” Both of your hands go to his shoulders, trying to push him away to no avail, your arms going weak as he sucks hard on your clit again and you half moan half sob at the feeling.

He pulls his mouth away but keeps his fingers thrusting inside you, as deep and as forceful as he can make it. “Y/N they’ve been stood there for a over minute already. I think you knew they were there, you heard the door open didn’t you? I want them to watch you come undone, to see how much of a good girl you are.”

You blush a deep red as your eyes go over the boys. Ashton’s watching your mouth, his eyes darkening at how plump your bottom lip is from biting it to hold in your moans. Michael’s watching Calum’s fingers, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he adjusts himself, his cheeks slightly pink. Luke’s looking into your eyes, his eyes darker then you’ve ever seen them, a smirk on his lips.

“Yeah Y/N,” Luke’s words are a dark drawl and the combination of him looking into your eyes and Calum’s fingers plowing into you are making your stomach feel tight and your legs tremble. “Be a good girl.”

You whimper loudly at his words, your eyes looking to Calum and finding a twinkle in his eyes and a grin on his mouth, his chin shining in the midday sun. 

He keeps eye contact with you as he lowers his mouth to your core again, blowing cool air onto your heated and soaked skin. He removes his fingers, holding them up so the boys can see how they’re coated in your wetness. Three groans meet your ears as he raises the fingers to your lips and you open, sucking on them hard as Calum closes his mouth over you, licking up and down your folds. You moan around his fingers, sucking them like they’re Calum’s cock - though not nearly as satisfying. He removes his fingers and uses them to spread your legs wider.

You can’t help but flicker your eyes to the boys, watching as they intensely stare at the sight of you getting pleasured. 

“Does it feel good Y/N?” Michael’s words are husky, he adjusts the jumper he’s wearing, feeling heated. You make eye contact with him just as Calum speeds up the movements of his tongue, his fingers entering you again as he feels you clench, a sign that you’re close.

“So damn good… I’m so fucking close,” you whimper out the words, Michael audibly gulping as he adjusts himself again. 

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Ashton’s grinning like a fool, openly palming himself as he walks further into the room and leans against the fridge, straining to get a better view. You don’t have the chance to feel shy, your orgasm creeping closer. 

“C-cal. I’m gonna-” A sob racks through you as Calum pulls away from you, his breathing laboured and his lips swollen and extra pink. “Why? W-why did you stop?” 

“I want you to beg for it. You don’t need to cum. You want to.” His voice is lower than ever and you can see how turned on he is. “Beg for it kitten.”

You turn your head to look at the boys and they’re all looking at you expectantly. Calum starts kissing your thighs again, closer to your core and then moving back. Your pussy is clenching around the air, desperate for release. You close your eyes and the words flow out of your mouth in a desperate sob.

“Please, god, Cal I can’t wait anymore. Please baby make me cum, I need it so bad. I’m your good girl, I’ve been so good please.” Your words are full of need and you tug on Calum’s hair hard, knowing full well he will probably have a headache later.

You suck in a gasping breath ready to beg again when Luke’s voice registers in your head.

“Let her come Calum.” His words mirrored Callum’s actions as he sucks your clit and slams a slap against your thigh and your hips lift off the counter, a silent scream coming from your lips. Your body writhes slightly as your body goes through the motions. Calum keeps his mouth on you, licking up the juices gushing from your hot centre. 

After the initial orgasm asides you lay still, your breaths coming out in short pants, your thighs trembling. Calum uses his thumbs to circle your skin, the motion calming as he helps you back down to earth.

The room is silent, only the sounds of heathy breathing present until your barely there whisper fills the space. “I don’t know if I can look you guys in the eye again.” 

The four boys chuckle and you feel redness tinge your already flushed face as you cover your eyes with your arm.

“Y/N babe, it’s harder for us,” Ashton laughs, “Everytime we look at your face we’re going to get a hard-on.” This makes you laugh and you lean up on your shoulders at Calum who’s grinning at you, his eyes shining. You smile back, feeling tired but extremely satisfied.

“Dude you have two bathrooms yeah?” Michael points down at his pants and you giggle, understanding his meaning.

“Mate I have three, the two mains and there’s an en-suite in the master.” Calum’s voice is full of mirth and he points towards your bedroom. “Guy’s I think we scrap this meeting and watch a movie, I think this one needs some down time.” He ruffles your hair before pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

“I will only sit on the couch with you four if you don’t discuss what you just saw.” Your words come out as shy but there’s a shine in your eyes that the boys like.

“Does that mean we can’t watch again?” Luke’s words sound teasing but the look in your eye tells you that he would definitely be up for a second viewing.

You slide off the counter, holding yourself up as the headrush you have subsides before walking to the fridge, pushing Ashton out of the way teasingly and grabbing yourself the juice you had gone to get over an hour ago.

“Now now,” you murmur softly, a shy smile on your lips. You grab Cal’s hand and head towards the lounge, pushing past Michael and Luke slowly. “I never said that.”

[songtoyou]

Chapter 1: The Pope, The Rabbi, and The Gypsy

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 1,795

Warnings: Talks of sexual content.

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: I was very pleased with the positive reaction to the prologue of this fic. I am glad that some of you are liking it. For this chapter, we learn a little more about the OC, and how she will meet Tommy. We also learn about the owners and some of Excelsior's clientele, the secret exclusive club in downtown London. Tommy looks for a new girl now that Lizzie is gone. 

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people actually like this fic. I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Excelsior was an exclusive invite-only club located in downtown London. Members included high profile men from actors, musicians, politicians, and business moguls. The activities that occur at Excelsior were top secret. Members and workers at the club were bound by a non-disclosure agreement to ensure nothing was made public. Excelsior was merely a very high-end gentlemen's club to the unassuming public, but underneath, it allowed members to succumb to their deepest desires.

Owned and run by "Duchess" Izabella Petrovna and her niece, "Princess" Tatiana Petrovna, the club was steeped in excess and glamour. No suspecting individual would ever think to confuse the establishment as an underground sex club. While the Duchess ran the business side of the operations, the Princess recruited the women. There was a certain criterion that the Princess enforced when it came to employing. First, the women had to be between the ages of twenty-one to thirty-five. The women underwent an extensive background check, along with a psych evaluation. Many of the employees found it hilarious that the Duchess and Princess required a psych evaluation considering that they themselves were equally eccentric…or insane, to put it mildly. Birth control was a non-negotiable requirement the women had to abide by. The women at the club had to partake in monthly STD tests to ensure they were clean and healthy. 

While the Duchess and Princess were an oddball pairing, there was no denying that they cared for their girls and valued the work they did for the members. Their business endeavor allowed the Petrovna's to continue to live in luxuries that Russia no longer was able to provide. They paid well.

It was how Rose Turner provided a decent life for herself and her son, Louis. Rose had been working at the club for six years and in that time had garnered quite the clientele. However, it would be three men who would have a tumultuous impact on Rose's life. She referred to them as the Pope, the Rabbi, and the Gypsy. 

The Pope was Luca Changretta, an Italian man from New York. Luca was a prominent businessman whose family still resided in England. While Audrey Changretta was a former school teacher, her husband Vincent, and youngest son Angel, owned restaurants and bars from Manchester to Birmingham, to London. They also dabbled in the real estate business and owned numerous high rise apartment buildings. The Changretta family was viewed as a rival to the Shelby clan. Both have tried to partner on business ventures with no deal ever emerging. The two families did not trust one another. 

With Luca stationed over in the States, he would visit his family throughout the year during holidays, for birthdays, weddings, funerals, openings of new Changretta establishments. Time home also allowed for Luca to engage in his pleasures. His visits to Excelsior were always a big deal. Everything had to be perfect, according to Izabella. Tatiana assigned Rose to Luca. 

"You are his type, no," Tatiana would say. "He likes the way you look. That innocent and doe-eyed look. Hooker with a heart of gold, they say, right."

Rose did not question Tatiana. She read through Luca's file to find out more about her new client and what he liked. The man was noticeably big into role play, especially in a religious aspect. He loved playing the part of a holy man while Rose played the Catholic school girl or nun. It was how Luca got the nickname, "The Pope." The man thankfully always managed to be a gentleman. He respected the rules of the club and never went overboard. If Rose was uncomfortable with acting out a scene, she knew it was okay to voice her worries. Luca never tried to fight her or manipulate her into partaking in a scene. He respected Rose's boundaries. She was one of his favorites at the club. 

Alfie Solomons was nicknamed "The Rabbi" and another important client at Excelsior. He had his fill of women during his time at the club. So much so that the girls would talk openly with one another about his particular habits. For instance, Alfie never partook in actual intercourse with the women. Instead, he relied on toys such as dildos or vibrators to bring pleasure to his women. He would also make sure to wear black latex gloves while touching the women. Many assumed it was to keep himself clean and pure since he participated in activities that would be deemed excruciatingly unholy. Alfie made sure that Tatiana only gave him gentile women.

"No Jewish women, love. They are holy creatures and should be remained as such, okay," Alfie demanded.

When Rose saw Alfie for the first time, she was intimidated by his big stature. However, Alfie proved to be one of Rose's favorite clients. The man knew how to pleasure a woman. He always made scenes fun and intense. Some women would even fight over who got to be with Alfie on certain nights he was at the club. They all loved him. 

As the son of a Russian Jewish woman and working-class Londoner father, Alfie worked his way up in the world. It would be the distillery business where Alfie would make his fortunes. From rum and vodka to gin, beer, and cider, Solomons & Sons was the top distillery company in the United Kingdom. It did not take long for the Shelby family came knocking on Alfie's door to partner with on business endeavors. While Alfie would continue to remain skeptical about the Shelby family, he knew the business deal with them would be too good to pass up. He loved having a go at Tommy Shelby from time-to-time to see how far he could push the Birmingham lad. 

In fact, it was Alfie who told Tommy about Excelsior. 

"You go from whore to whore with no care in the world. It is like you got a death wish. Seriously, don't you ever worry about getting the clap? I'll tell ya what…let me talk with one of my associates about inviting you to join this club I frequent. It will have everything you ever wanted and more. Trust me," Alfie shared with Tommy at one of their business meetings two years ago. 

Tommy merely scoffed as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Trust you. Not likely, Alfie. As I recall, it was because of you that the deal with the Changrettas fell apart. Something about mentioning how my brother John got into a fight with Angel Changretta over a girl they both were seeing at the time."

With a shit-eating grin, Alfie replied, "I am a beacon of truth, eh."

"More like a pain in my ass," Tommy smirked. 

As promised, Alfie talked with Tatiana about inviting Tommy to the club. She was adamant about meeting with the self-made millionaire. The Princess wanted to make sure he was suitable to partake in her establishment. If Tatiana had the ability, she would have kept Tommy all to herself if she could. 

"None of those whores deserve you, Thomas," said Tatiana as she laid in bed next to him.

"No, they deserve better. Better than me, that is for sure. But…they are all I got. So, I need your help in finding the best one for me. One that I can take out in public if need be. One who can be presentable to society at certain functions I have to attend. That way, I can keep up the appearance of a family man who still grieves the loss of his wife while trying to move on with my life."

Lizzie Stark filled that position for two years before her sudden and unexpected departure at Excelsior. Now Tatiana had to find a new girl to assign for Tommy, which was no easy task with his certain expectations. The man was rather picky, to say the least. Perusing her girls' files, she realized that there was only one who could meet the requests of Tommy Shelby.

"Rose Turner," announced Tatiana and handed Tommy her file. "She has been with us for a couple of years. She is considered top-quality—good reviews from our top clients. As you can see, she is beautiful, no. She can be elegant if need be for your functions. Adventurous…flexible, if you know what I mean. She'd be perfect for you. What do you think?"

Tommy looked over Rose's file. Her birthdate indicated she was in her early thirties and from Blackpool, a seaside resort town on England's Irish Sea coast. It was England's very own Coney Island. Ada took Karl and Charlie there for a weekend getaway not long after Grace died to cheer up her nephew.

"How many men does she see regularly?" Tommy asked.

"Rose is considered top quality. Her clientele is small. She has no more than four regulars. One does not live here full-time. He only sees her when he visits family. The others…well, they are people from your circle of business partners."

"Is that so. Who would these men be?" Tommy inquired as he continued to look through Rose's file.

"I am not at liberty to tell you such vital information…"

"Well, Tatiana, let me take a guess. Could Alfie Solomons be one of Rose's clients? How about Darby Sabini? Is he on the list? Billy Kimber before his untimely departure on this Earth?" Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and tossed Rose's file on Tatiana's desk. "Set up a meeting for me with Rose. Not here, though. Tell her to meet me at The Savoy Hotel this Saturday night. Give her this as well," Tommy handed Tatiana an envelope she assumed had cash in it. "Tell her to buy something nice for the occasion. The two of us can talk over dinner, and if all goes well, we can end the night on a good note. Just know this Princess, if all goes well, then Rose becomes mine. Her other clients can fuck off for all I care. I am not one to share what is mine."

So here Rose was, at one of London's top boutiques picking out a dress for Saturday night. Tatiana explained the possible arrangement with Mr. Shelby, and if things went well, he would be Rose's main client. Meaning he would become Rose's only client. She had reservations about it until Tatiana shared how much Mr. Shelby was willing to pay. It was more money than Rose originally would make. Tatiana shared that Mr. Shelby would provide Rose a weekly allowance on top of her services' standard fees. The deal with too good to pass up. However, Tatiana was adamant to Rose that meeting Tommy first would be wise before agreeing to any deals. 

All Rose knew was that she had a date with The Gypsy. 

[lordeasriel]

a memory: a man with a mission

Chapter excerpt from my WIP sci-fi novel, The Timekiller. If you check it out, I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback. The novel is divided into normal chapters, that follow the present timeline and its plot, and the memory chapters which are flashback chapters of different moments, like memories, telling key events from the past (and future).

--

December 23, 1946.

Duke’s powers manifested in a way he couldn’t quite understand. He was a man hailing from the far gone future, born amongst robots and artificial intelligences, raised in a world where the AI had rebelled against the humans and their oppression. He was a war child, for all intents and purposes, yet he never quite felt like a soldier. There was a scholarly aspect to him that made him stand out amongst his peers in the resistance and what granted him the alias The Duke, which was often shortened to just Duke; his name had only been known by his fiancé and a few friends, close friends.

He walked into a pub, in London, in an environment that was the most foreign thing he had ever seen, despite the fact he had been to London in his own time. He was shocked to realise his attempt to time travel that far in the past had worked, but he quickly gathered his wits, and stole clothes so he would fit in, and suddenly he blended wonderfully into the post-second war background world, with matte colours and broken buildings, yet with a spirit of renewal only known to those who have witnessed mayhem - and survived.

Doing justice to his scholarly spirit, Duke had done his research in the time he wanted to visit, and thus he knew vaguely how to communicate, and what to say and how to say it. How to dress, what to order for food and drinks, and how the culture worked. It was hard work, but he managed just fine, asking for a pint at the bar, while glancing around the place.

There weren’t many people there, but there were only a few tables vacant, despite the fact it was nearly christmas. Cold weather mostly sent the people in, couples, elderly men, veterans and so on; it was a workers’ pub, mostly, so not many posh people were to be seen. He kept a quiet, low profile, watching around, looking aimlessly. He had to wait until the far night to do what he had come here to do, so spending his time amongst folk was a good idea. He realised these people had good food and drinks and peace.

“Poor lass.” The barmaid told him, a tough looking woman with red hair, cleaning up the glasses in front of him. He raised his eyebrows, inquisitively. She nodded in a specific direction. “She’s been sitting there all day, sipping her lukewarm pint. That has to be the tenth moron who has been to nag her.”

Duke hummed, slightly uninterested, but the woman didn’t mind his lack of interest.

“Ah, she keeps on saying she’s waiting for someone, but I think her lad might have stood her up, oh yes.” Duke nodded, just to appease her sense of communication, drinking his beer quietly. “Do you know her?”

He lowered his glass, and turned to see in the direction the barmaid had pointed out. In the corner of the bar, a few meters away from him, there was a woman occupying a single table, holding a glass mug of beer with a dishonest disinterest. She was dressed simply, with a plain skirt and white blouse, her coat on the chair she was sitting, her hair done modestly, keep in those hair nets Duke thought were so funny.

She raised her eyes to him, and her bland expression disappeared, replaced by the smallest hint of a smile. She would have been in her thirties, maybe late twenties, or so he guessed, strong eyebrows and light-coloured eyes that glittered under the soft, warm light of the pub. Something about her was disconcerting, he felt as if the entire room was staring at her, as if she was the sole focus of a picture and the only thing worth looking at. She was pretty, but it wasn’t that that made her such a magnet of attention, it was something else. It scared him, astonished him. He locked eyes with the woman, and he blushed for no reason he could explain.

“Never seen her.” He said, truthfully. He turned away because the woman’s gaze was making him uncomfortable. Somehow he felt she knew what he was doing in that time period, but the mere idea sounded insane to him. How could she know?

“She’s been looking at you an awful lot, though.” The barmaid smiled at him, a bit wicked. “Hope you aren’t the married type.”

Zohariel watched him from her chair, intensely, her fingers fidgeting on her lap as she was focusing on expanding her presence so he would be drawn to her. Usually she did the opposite, quieting down her spirit so people’s lives wouldn’t get caught in the strength of her being, but this time she wanted him to notice her. She needed him to, otherwise he would commit the worst mistake of his life.

He looked, at last, confused and intrigued. No doubt he had a dozen questions, and no doubt she could have answered them patiently and carefully and gently, but he had a determination in his eyes that made her wary. One tiny wrong move, and the timeline would’ve gone to hell and Zohariel would be in an even bigger mess. She was intent on avoiding that. Unlike him, she knew who he was and his entire fate, but she never shared that with him, not until a long time in the future.

He resisted her presence, as much as he could. She had expected that. He was strong-willed and his abilities had a similar root to hers, no doubt her own fault. He sideeyed her from his place, wary; while her presence was strong thanks to her different frequency, she couldn’t control how people reacted to it. Some were attracted to her, some were terrified, some hated her on principle; it was a roussian roulette of psychology and emotion. Zee was beginning to feel hopeless when he finally moved towards her table, two mugs of cold beer in hand and he stood in front of her, his jacket too big for him, a clear sign those clothes didn’t belong to him.

“Do you mind?” He asked, quietly, almost shyly. It was rather unbecoming of him: she has expected him to be more forceful.

“Not at all.” She gestured with her chin to the chair across her.

Everyone at the pub watched as that strange fellow, for no apparent reason, sat down with that even stranger woman, whose attention had been craved by many, all whom she denied politely, so gently it was nearly cruel.

He slid the mug at her, pacifyingly. She let go of her empty one and closed her grip on the new one, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“Rumour has it you have been dumping men left and right, tonight.” He said, taking a sip from his mug, his eyes locked onto hers. There was faint music playing in the background, an old tune, filled with white noise. The conversation resumed as Zee toned down her presence as much as she could.

“I enjoy the loneliness.” The corners of her mouth twitched up; he observed her carefully. She knew he was trying to figure her out; people from his time spot were terribly suspicious of anything odd.

“Yet, I’ve been told you can’t take your eyes off me.”

“You’re an odd one.” She said, jokingly, but there was enough truth in it to satisfy him. It didn’t, however.

“So are you.” He crossed his arms over the table, and she leaned in to whisper back at him.

“And together, the two of us make quite a pair in this trivial place.” She tilted her head. He hummed, the closest thing to a laughter he could give her. She leaned back on her chair, her drink in hand. “You look like a man on a mission, if you don’t mind me saying it.”

He hummed again, and his eyes lost focus and he was invaded by a sadness she was well familiar with. He wouldn’t know, of course; there was so much he didn’t know.

“You have no idea, miss.”

“Oh, I might.” She blinked slowly, but he barely reacted. He didn’t believe her, and she could scarcely blame him. Most time travelers struggled in their first months, even years; it was not the sort of thing one could easily adjust to. But Zee didn’t have time to do things subtly; Duke was about to make a very common mistake between time travelers who just discovered their powers: he thought he could change history. “Tell me, what brings you here?”

“Just passing by.”

“How vague! You sound as if you don’t want to talk, yet you’re the one who approached me.” Her amused tone sparked something in him, but by his attitude, it was probably something bad.

He looked at her, puzzled, baffled. She knew how this conversation would follow, it always happened the same way, the few times she had done it before, when she was still with the League. I don’t know why I did it, he would say, his senses betraying him, his mind being engulfed by the everlasting presence of her high frequency.

Being from another universe, Zohariel’s atoms vibrated in a frequency suited for her own universe, and her frequency was so high that in the universe she lived in, she disturbed the natural order of things. Some resisted it for longer, like Duke, but it was pointless; in the end, she could change their lives dramatically by simply existing in the same vicinity for long enough.

“I don’t know why I did it.” He said, looking around, carefully. “You were looking at me.”

“Was I?”

“Yes. A lot. Why?”

“I don’t know, I do a lot of things for no good reason.” She finished her glass and put it down with a soft noise. Her eyebrows had a crease between them, more about doubt than confusion. “You may not want to hear it, but I have some advice for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. That which is consuming you right now, it is the sort of ailment that afflicts every one of us. You don’t believe I understand, I know, but I do." She sighed when he shook his head. "Grief is overwhelming. It feeds off our energy, our hopes, our fears. But it will pass, eventually, or at least fade to something bearable. Until then, you must persevere."

"How do you know I'm grieving?" There was a legitimate curiosity in his question.

"It's in your eyes." It was true, anyone who looked at him would have seen the pain he was in, but she knew more than just that. She knew everything and more. My responsibility, she often repeated to herself, my fault. Everything he was and would be and do was on her head and she wanted to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. "All over your face. You could use a shave, no offense. I like the beard, but these folks… They're on a different time."

"More free advice? Who would have thought?" He mocked, but there was very little malice in his attitude. He thought of her as odd, quirky. A weird woman in a weird time spot.

"What can I say, I appreciate being helpful and advice from me is a common item to spread around." She raised her eyebrows, amused. "I hope you will heed my words."

"I don't believe you told me your name."

She smiled, sweet and mischievous.

"While my advice is free of charge, my name is a luxury item, in this silly metaphor." She tapped at his hand, gently, and he pulled away as if she had given him a shock. He checked his watch and she observed, quietly, hopeless, intrigued. He brushed his thighs before he stood up, and Zohariel thought he looked exhausted.

He must be, she thought, he probably has no idea how to properly time travel.

The first mistake of a rookie was to go back or forth in time without mastering their powers, which could also be translated to, without knowing how to go back to their time spot. They'd get stuck, and create anachronisms which would then trigger the League. If they did little damage and were untrained and not dangerous, the League would do nothing more than fix the issues, and give them a reprimand and invite them in - very few people refused an invitation like that. However, as Zohariel knew because she had used the League's rating system, Duke was to be considered a red alert threat; he was an anachronist who would stop at nearly nothing to achieve his goal and neither would the League. Worst fate was to have his memories deleted and have him do mild paperwork, while keeping him on his own time spot. It was cruel, in Zee's opinion; worse even than just erasing his existence entirely.

"I appreciate your kindness, but you don't really understand." He nodded before walking out of the pub. Zee watched, almost as if that was a film.

She knew where he was going and she knew she had to stop him before the League did.

[eluminium]

Raid (hehe fanfic)

So i made a Masqueraiders (belongs to @reginaldcopperbottom) fanfic because i could. Yes it’s about 3k words. This one has been a long time in the making and I’m happy i finally got it done!

Please enjoy!

A groan escaped his throat as the car sent vibrations throughout his tired body. This was 100% not his day.

Scratch that, this was 100% not his week.

Although he knew that from the glorious hour he rose from his bed, with soreness traveling down his spine like a waterslide. These past days had been hell for the department, with criminal organizations raiding places left, right, and center. Good sleep was a rarity, and many fellow cops were falling asleep by their desks, only to be woken up by a call to action. And now it was his turn to deal with these crooks.

"The museum of Geology...A prime raiding target for any thief with common sense" mumbled his partner while taking a turn.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock..." was his grumpy response. 

"Who do you think it is this time?" his partner joked.

"I bet on the Crownminals, from what we got these thieves are well organized, and that's their brand"

"That makes sense, although could always be Toppats too. Y'know one time-"

As the words kept spilling out of his partner's mouth, his eyes wandered afield, out towards the rearview mirror. A fog gathered in his eyes as the blinking red and blue lights burrowed into him and the world around him faded a bit. Maybe he could get some quality sleep after this. Just gotta take out these criminals and then drop dead like a ragdoll. God, some good sleep was gonna be heavenly, he could almost feel the plushness of his bed calling out to him.

"We're..he...re! ...Hel..lo? yo..u the..re?"

So soft...He could almost pretend...

"Dude! You there?"

"Ugh, yeah yeah I'm here, stop snapping your fingers in my face" he murmured angrily as his feet touched the ground outside the car. 

The cold metal of his pistol dug into his hand. The museum and everything around it was engulfed in chaos. He picked up on various orders coming from colleagues, but it didn't seem to contain the animalistic anarchy around them.

A tired breath flowed out of his lips, this was not gonna be simple or coordinated, was it? Welp, better just get a good position and-

The ground rumbled angrily as an explosion tore through the museum. His body swayed violently as screams echoed in his ears.

"Shit! They need backup! C'mon, don't just stand there!"

Before he could even respond, a tight grip had grasped his shirt and his body was traveling faster than his mind. Dear lord, the guy was fast! In through the entrance, through the gunfire, people people people screaming loud loud-

SLAM!

The door's impact echoed in his ears as his mind tried to catch up with whatever the fuck just happened. The sleep deprivation wasn't helping at all.

"What...the HELL...did just happen?"

"Oh, sorry dude, went a bit too fast there!" his partner cheered.

"You could say that again..." he grumbled.

His disapproving stare tore through his partner, who could only respond by scratching the back of his neck with sweat dripping down his face. So awkward he was, with his apologetic smile and soft-looking face- Nope, that was NOT what he was gonna focus on. 

They stayed locked in that position, staring at each other stiffly until the sound of someone clearing their throat reached their ears. Both their gazes turned towards this new presence.

"Hello gentlemen, thank you for finally noticing us!" A masked fellow cheered.

His lips remained sealed as his gaze wandered over the man. The man's mask seemed to resemble two shining suns, and a well-kept sun hat covered up his head, even though it was mid-October. His arms, however, were tied up with a rope across his stomach. But even then, a bright and shrewish smile adorned his face.

"Alright, you can stop starring at me now pig, It was way more entertaining to watch you two play gay chicken."

What.

"Agh! N-No, we weren't! I-I'm not even gay!" his partner exclaimed with embarrassment.

Suddenly, a strange protectiveness surged through his veins. His feet moved before his mind did, and he unexpectedly found himself between his partner and these fowl mask people.

"Oh yeah, that kid is definitely gay. Maybe the grump is gay too. Mad respect." the masked man chuckled to someone behind him.

He felt his face morph into a sneer as flustered squeaks clawed their way out of his partner's throat. His eyes turned to the woman behind the masked man, and they narrowed as he noticed more masked people tied up behind them. 

This had to be a temporary cell, and these are its inmates. A bunch of weird...mask people.

Wait.

Mask people...Mask thieves? No that couldn't be right. Mask heisters? Maskings? Mask sneakers? Masquerade raiders? No that was stupid no-one in their right mind would choose that-

"Hey, big guy~"

He quickly snapped away from his thoughts with all his attention focused on the masked lady. Her hair was long and slightly curly, with the texture of the darkest night in December. Although, there were spots of color too. A purple crown with a white moon rested on her raven head. She was, factually, a beauty.

But something about that...seductive tone made his skin crawl, and not in a good way. More in an 'i'll pay you to never speak to me like that again' way.

"Are you a parking ticket? 'Cause you got fine written all over you~"

Nope. Nope nope nope nope ew NO.

His mind was blank, and he looked like a fish out of water. It felt like disgusting bugs were crawling around inside his skin. Wait, was she wiggling her hips-?

"Dude? You online?"

He snapped back to reality and averted his stare. That was his partner. Right he still had a job to do. Criminals first, thinking about why he felt so uncomfortable with a woman flirting with him later. Luckily for him, a name got caught in his brainwaves.

He turned back towards the masked woman, his face stitched into a more serious expression.

"Masqueraiders correct?" he questioned with a head tilt.

The masked lass took a second to compose herself. Her purple gloved hand reached up and pushed her just as purple star marked mask back into place. It only took a single glance at the cop's "serious" face for her resolve to break, and the laughter burst out of her mouth like a botched dam. 

"PffFFFFF HAHAHAHA! Y-Yeah, we are the MasqurAIDHHERERESSS! OH MY GOD, AIEDEN! LOOK AT HIS FACE!"

The gaze of the sun mask fellow, which had settled on his slightly less flustered partner, turned to him. And the cackling flowed out of his mouth not long after.

"ASTRA HE LOOKS LIKE A BABY WITH A BEARD! HOLY FUCK I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! I THOUGHT BEARDS WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE YOU LOOK OLDER NOT YOUNGER! COPS TRY TO MARKET THEMSELVES AS SCARY BUT, I AM POSITIVELY DYING-"

Ouch, that was a hit to the ego. The expression of seriousness faltered a little bit as his gaze turned to the ground. Wow, was he letting these crooks get under his skin?

Yes, he was.

He was tired! What can he say?

The laughter kept echoing in his ears for a bit, really destroying any hubris he had beforehand. The feeling of his partner's worried stare really didn't help. It actually made it more embarrassing. If this was 100% not his day before, now it was 150% not his day. The flow in his brain had practically stopped as he tried to reboot his thinking process. Okay, okay, he's got this. Just gotta-

An abrupt and intense movement in front of his eyes caused the mental reboot to speedrun through the last stages. The click of a gun bounced between the walls of the room, and the mocking laughter ceased abruptly. He couldn't make out the faces of the tied up convicts who mocked him or see them at all, for that matter, because his partner's body was standing protectively between him and the Masqueraiders. Well wasn't this familiar? I guess bros gotta protect bros. He didn't have to see it with his bare eyes to know that there was a gun pointed at the crooks. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

"Hey, dudes, ladies, and thudes. Didn't we all learn that you should treat the police with an ounce of respect when we were younger?"

His partner's voice was smooth as a bead, yet it still possessed that edge of "dudebro" that was so unique to him. It was such a lovely song to his ears. God, what he would do to hear it more...

His head quickly swung side to side as if he was trying to shake that thought out of his head. No homo, no homo. Right?

The still but tense air that settled after his partners' words broke with a snort and some giggles. 

"Oh? Mind filling me in on the joke dude?" his partner quipped while the gun clattered in his hands.

"Don't you hear it lad?" The sun-masked fellow whose name apparently was Aieden responded confidently. Well, confidently when you consider that there was a gun in his face.

"Hear what?"

Now that he mentioned it, there seemed to be footsteps approaching their little hideaway spot. Very quick yet...heavy steps. Oh fuck. Could it be-?!

"Get down-!"

He felt his hand instinctively clutch the sleeve of his partner before they made contact with the hard floor. The seconds ticked on, and on, and on.

CRASH!

"HOLY FUCK-"

The wall by their side crumbled into pieces as an unstoppable force smashed into it. He felt the fabric of his partner's sleeve crack as he dragged them both out of the way of this brute.

"Freeze! This is-"

The gun rattled in his hands, his eyes dilated with fear. Because now he saw this person, this giant, clearly. Holy mother of God.

The man in front of him bore clothes in brilliant green and black. On his face rested a mysterious black mask that only covered one half, and a white spot resembling an eye covered the spot on the mask where his actual eye would be. Emerald green boots, teeth sharp as stalactites... 

And this fowl criminal was enormous. He dwarfed everybody else in that little supply closet, probably standing at around 7 feet tall! Jesus Christ, was he dealing with crooks or actual mythical beings?!

Luckily for him though, this gigantic force of nature didn't seem to pay any attention to his intimidation attempt. He seemed more focused on freeing his fellow Masqueraiders from their imprisonment, the leaf color feathers on his hat bouncing side to side. 

"There ya' are Ricardo! I'm surprised it took this long!"

He knew he couldn't go up against a beast like that. He'd get pummeled into the ground and lose every tooth he had left. His gaze wandered back to his partner's still face as he tried to think up a plan. A slight panic flowed down his spine when he noticed that his partner wasn't moving, but a quick check revealed that his heartbeat was strong and his soft breathing still there. Must have been knocked out...

He felt his arm reach for a spare curtain that was discarded next to them, and soon his partner rested under it, hidden from view. It was best to keep him secured until he woke up again.

As he observed the big green man whose name was Ricardo do his big green man things, a sudden flash of vibrant red caught his gaze. Someone had rushed past the big hole in the wall, someone clad in crimson. There was no doubt about it. It had to be the Masqueraiders leader himself, Sylvester Wesley. He knew it had to be him. And if he could capture their leader, maybe he could gain an advantage over these masks who mocked him. Although maybe it wasn't Wesley, maybe there was another red-clad mask bastard. But even then, capturing any Masqueraider would be a victory at this point. His pride was on the line after all!

He glanced back at his partner, still unconscious. A seed of doubt grew in his chest, should he really leave his partner like this? After everything that had happened...

Once again, his head bounced side to side. No, he had to do this. He had to apprehend SOMEONE. His partner would be fine, he just had to be! He was hidden, they'd never find him, right? He made his decision. It was time to round up some criminals.

Yet, the feeling of doubt and worry only grew stronger as he sneaked out through the hole made by the giant. Was he doing the right thing? Is this justice? To leave an unconscious man vulnerable? He didn't know, but he pushed those thoughts to the side as he spotted the red-clad criminal again. He seemed to be rounding up the last of their loot, with a big potato sack slung over his shoulder. It was certain now, that was the Masqueraiders leader himself. The black mask and red hat gave it away.

He cleared his throat before once again pointing his weapon at the crook.

"Freeze! Police!"

He met the gaze of the black-masked man and expected to meet a pair of eyes drowned in confusion. Yet all he could spot was a slight hint of surprise and then a kind of...playful mockery. A very familiar sight by now. 

"Catch me if you can!" The Masqueraiders leader sang out as he bolted down the hallway with the goods.

He took off after him, uselessly chasing the nimble and quick Wesley. Gunshots echoed off the walls as he unleashed a salvo aimed at the leader, yet all the shots either missed or were reflected by the skilled swordsman's weapon. Every bullet, no matter where he aimed. Time after time after time again, nothing seemed to be hitting this disgustingly fast weasel. Frustration boiled in his guts, come on now! He was so tantalizingly close to regaining his dignity and getting revenge on the Masqueraiders. Yet still NOTHING!

A roar of anger escaped him, his feet moving even faster. All he got back from Wesley was a coy grin and just...the most punchable expression ever.

"Hah! You're way too slow, ever considered hitting the gym?!" 

"Shut up!"

"You're not my dad so you can't tell me what to doooo~"

He was gonna crack Wesleys skull open like a watermelon. He was gonna do it, nothing could stop him from squeezing that stupid overconfident head in like a pimple. And he actually seemed to be closing in on him! His gun had run out of ammo by now, but he was hot on his heels now!

Wait, was he deliberately slowing down? Was Wesley running slower to ridicule him even more? Oh, this motherfucker...

He was laser-focused now, not considering where his feet were taking him. So when he ran into an open exhibit, he didn't notice the danger lurking by the stage lights. He just wanted to commit some nice ol' murder on the man who kept taunting him.

"Veronica! Now!"

But that, that stopped him a bit. What? Was Wesley calling for backup? But, there's nobody here. Or is there? Wait who was Veronica? He followed Wesley's gaze and noticed a lady dressed in purple sitting by one of the stage lights. She had a very similar mask to the big green-

He couldn't see any more details of her, or see at all for that matter. A scream clawed its way out of his lungs, his eyes feeling like they were burning. His body swayed from side to side, and his sweaty hands were covering his eyes. The empty gun clattered to the floor. That bitch, she'd used the stage light like a flashbang! The force against his face provided by his hands harshened, trying to block out as much as he could.

"Oh, how the turntables turn!"

He felt Wesley's presence next to him, teasing him. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to beat his ass, but he couldn't get his hands off his face without causing worse pain. An angry gurgle was what he gave in response.

"Aw, how cute. Did you really think you could catch the great Sylvester Wesley? One of the sneakiest sneakers who have ever sneaked? With your rancid vibes? Don't make me laugh! Or well, I'm already laughing, so jokes on you!" Ugh, that dumb tone...

"I can't believe you managed- What Veronica? ...Aw come on can't I just mess with him a little more? Yeah yeah, I know there's probably- Veronica can you make a little exception- OKAY okay FINE I'll knock him out and we'll leave with the loot. You owe me a pop tart now."

"Toooo deee looo turtle, have fun in dreamland!"

Before he could even fight back, something hard impacted the side of his head. He was swallowed up by the sweet release of unconsciousness, something he'd been craving all day. The last thing he knew was the cold feel of the floor, and the faint sound of footsteps burrowing into his ear.

Darkness...A rumbling noise of somebody talking to him...He slowly felt himself returning to the land of the awake, a killer pain pounding in his head. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is his partner with a few bandages tied around his head. He talked, and talked, and talked. He looked kinda cute like this, hair all fluffed up and features so soft. But he's talking too fast for him to pick anything up.

Although all those thoughts disappear when he notices something on his stomach. His hand closes around the object, his partner's worried squawks becoming nothing but background noise. It was a black velvet mask.

He couldn't take his gaze off it, it was locked to this replica of Wesley's famous mask. As his partner finally got a grip on him and started carrying him out of the destroyed museum, there was only one thought on his mind.

"I'll get that bastard, I'll throw him behind bars myself."