#“pleasant boy” my ass he shot me

[bleghtoaster]

ceo of pancakes ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

[zepskies]

Hii! Could I request Soldier boys reaction to his gf slapping his ass 😭😭 like he's just walks by her in the comfort of their own home and she just... does it

🤣🥴 LMFAO. Bless you for this ask, my dear. It turned into a full on "imagine" scene instead of just bullet points. (And I think you sent me another imagine! I'll work on that one next. 😘)

Here we go…

Word Count: 550

Imagine: Repaying him for a job well done.

He was just standing there, doing the dishes.

You didn’t know why you liked it so much. You had cooked, so it was only fair that he cleaned up the kitchen. (Or such was one of the ground rules you'd set when you two moved in together.)

Maybe it was because he was actually following said rule. Maybe it was because your boyfriend was washing a damn dish without you asking.

Maybe it was the exquisite ratio of broad shoulders, straining under his simple shirt, to a tapered waist and a pinnacle of strong, jean-clad legs.

“Hey, you got any dishes over there?” Ben called to you, over his shoulder.

You took that moment to drain the last of your wine glass with one bracing sip.

“Yep,” you said, popping the “P.”

But when you didn’t join him in the kitchen, Ben finally looked over at you. His brow shot up when you raised the glass, twirling it around from your recline on the living room couch.  

“You really expect me to go over there and get it?” he said.

“Please?” You wiggled your bare toes on the couch and held onto your throw blanket. “My lower back hurts…you know, from all those hours I put into making a loving, home-cooked meal.”

Ben shot you a look of annoyance. You gave him a pair of imploring doe eyes; you both knew it was an act, but somehow, it still worked on him…most of the time.

Your mouth twitched at a smile when he finally came over to grab your glass. He plucked it out of your hand with a shake of his head. (And a look on his face that said you were lucky beyond fucking belief that he put up with you.)

So when he turned to leave, you really couldn’t help yourself.

You leaned over and gave him a nice smack on the ass for his efforts.

Ben was surprised enough to stop short. His hand flinched on reflex, actually cracking the wine glass. It was just a fraction of his super strength, but the glass soon shattered over his hand and onto the hardwood floor.

His hand was fine, of course, but his brows furrowed as he tried to comprehend what the hell just happened.

You bit your lip, but a snort of amusement still escaped. Ben slowly turned to you.

“Fucking proud of yourself, are you?” he asked, with a wry raise of his brow. Still his lips threatened to curve upwards.

“A bit, yeah,” you admitted. Your little smirk made his green eyes narrow.

“Okay,” he nodded. Then he turned and swiftly yanked the throw blanket off your body, before all but tackling you onto the couch.

You squealed and pushed at the iron wall of his chest, but it didn’t make a damn difference. Ben trapped you underneath him, caging your hips between his thighs, and sunk a firm hand in your hair.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was gravel and sin, and it made a pleasant tingle run down your spine. You still had the audacity to smirk in his face.

“Who says I can’t finish it?” you quipped. Your nails dragged down his chest teasingly, all the way to his belt.  

Ben huffed. “We’ll just fucking see, won’t we?”

He then captured you with a searing kiss that made your toes curl.

AN: I love doing these SB imagines/headcanons! 😘

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[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?)

genre: enemies to lovers I guess? I'm bad at these 😭

summary: one week, your usual work partner is absent, so instead you are seated next to a genius with attitude problems. it happens.

wc: ~500

A/N: if i can manage to be consistent for once, this will probably be a series because I haven't done one in a while. pls feel free to leave your reactions in the tags or comments! happy reading 🫶🏾

next see all parts in my masterlist!

Sunlight filtered through the large classroom window. Usually, you'd be seated right by it, letting the rays warm your face in the air-conditioned room.

Not today. Your usual partner was out sick, so you were moved to the back of the classroom. Blocking out the sunshine was the silhouette of a boy you had only seen in the hallways once or twice.

He had deep brown skin, with two neat cornrows cascading down either side of his neck and brushing his shoulders. You also made out an undercut, faded cleanly beneath the braids. There was a case meant for holding glasses sitting at the front of his desk, but no spectacles sitting on his prominent nose. 

The boy was bent over his worksheet already, arm covering the page.

"Hey," you said with a pleasant upturn in your voice. A full thirty seconds passed. He didn't answer, so you try again.

"Um, excuse me-"

"I heard you." 

The boy kept his eyes on his desk, brows knitted together with focus. He was making broad, sharp strokes with his pencil. His elbow moved for a moment, revealing not a sheet of math problems, but a piece of printer paper filled with intricate geometric designs. Precise lines come together to create the form of a caped figure. It has large, mechanical claws and a mask with sharp, wide eyes.

"That's a cool drawing," you commented. The boy's shoulders jumped to his ears as if he'd been caught before dropping back down. He finally looked up from the page and paused. Wide, brown eyes flickered across your face, trying to determine what to make of you.

"Thanks," was all that the boy said before returning to his sketching. It wasn't long before you interrupted him again.

"You not gonna finish your work?"

"I'm already done, that's why Ms. Jones put me back here and let me rock."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me," you muttered to yourself. 

You messed with the sleeve of your royal blue uniform blazer in silence, weighing your options. Ms. Jones wasn't going to let you turn in another incomplete assignment, and this kid couldn't even be assed to say 'hello'. A deep sigh escapes your lips.

"Can I get your name, at least?"

The boy set his pen down with a slam, and looked up at you as if he'd just been asked what color the sky was.

"Morales," he deadpanned, with a slight roll on the 'r'. 

"Which Morales?"

"Miles."

You hummed in slight recognition, having heard the name somewhere before, murmured next to you in passing.

"You Dominican?"

"Puerto Rican."

"Oh, cool."

"M-hm." 

He picked up his pen again and began to twirl it between his pointer and middle finger, but held your gaze. You looked like you were finally about to get to the actual question.

"Well, Morales," you began with a smile.

Here it comes.

"Since you're done, can you help me with-"

"No."

You scoffed, "What's the point of being partners, then?"

Miles had already returned to his original position, scribbling away. He didn't look at you, this time.

"We not partners, ma."

...And so began the longest school week of your life.

[starkeyisthelastname]

It’s Always Been You Chapter Two:

Here’s chapter two my loves! 🥰 Disney World here we come! Yeah and Topper is super annoying in this series.. 😅 (I haven’t been to Disney World in years, so this just comes from a little background and research!)

Previous Chapter

"Why the fuck am I even awake right now?" Rafe grumbled to you as he climbed out of his F-150 truck that was now crookedly parked next to the sleek white Mercedes you drove. With an irritated sigh, he opened the back door to pull his bags out, nearly throwing them down onto the hard asphalt of the tarmac.

Rafe's grumpiness in the mornings was legendary, a trait that had been firmly in place even back in your elementary school days. You could still recall those car rides to private school, with either Rose or your mom at the wheel, Rafe grumbling in the seat beside you. So, when you slammed your trunk shut, your expensive tote bag slung over your shoulder and your large pink suitcase clutched in one hand, his predictable morning grouchiness was met with a healthy dose of eye-rolling from you. You yanked open the passenger door, leaning in to grab the frozen coffee you'd picked up for him. "Drink this and shut up," you ordered, practically throwing the cup at him.

Rafe shot you a smirk as you handed him the coffee, something only you would do for him. "You aren't going to tell people I drink this girly shit, are you?” He teased, his eyes traveling down to the way your ass looked in the tight leggings you wore. The things he wanted to do to you, whether they were wrong of him to think about as you were his best friend, but fuck did he want you bad.

“How did you know? It’s my plan to tell everyone that the big bad Rafe Cameron likes caramel frappuccino’s.” You said, standing back up straight, oblivious to the way he had been staring at your body. You turned to face him again, Rafe’s eyes immediately focusing on your own.

“Okay smart ass.” Rafe mumbled, hiding a smirk as the two of you began to make your way to the Cameron’s private plane.

Your parents were settled in, engaged in a boring business conversation with Rose and Ward over steaming cups of coffee. Wheezie had already dozed off, her blanket snugly over her head, while Sarah and her boyfriend Topper giggled at some TikTok video playing on her phone. Rafe shot a disapproving glance at the frosted-tipped haired boy as he strode past you toward your usual seats. Sarah and him didn’t get along most of the time, and her boyfriend Topper only made it worse for him to keep his anger in check as the idiot was constantly running his mouth to be a smartass. People like him were the reason Rafe had to always have his vape and cart pen on him.

“Why is he coming? They've been dating for what? Five fucking minutes.” Rafe grumbled, plopping down into the leather seat next to the window as he took his sunglasses off. You sat down next to him, placing your bag on the spacious floor, before getting comfortable. “What? Sarah’s boyfriend isn’t aloud to come?” You asked with a small laugh, looking over at the couple. Even though Rafe and Sarah didn’t get along, you and her were close, despite her being a few years younger. Topper wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around, but he was making Sarah happy which was what mattered.

Rafe leaned his head back against the plush headrest, looking at you as you sipped on your coffee. You were so effortlessly beautiful even makeup free, still looking like a stunner. Your eyelashes were freshly filled, eyebrows threaded and lips lightly glossed in the Dior lip oil he knew you always wore. One thing he loved about you is that you always kept yourself together, even at a time like this where there was an early flight. You were expensive, and high maintenance, always taking pride in the way you looked. It was starting to eat him up inside at how much he just wanted to shower you with compliments.

“He’s a fuckin prick who is always trying to get under my skin on purpose just to piss me off so he can see me flip out.” Rafe said, buckling his seat belt as the pilot announced they were about to take off. It was hard enough for him to try and control his anger and someone like Topper Thornton didn’t help when he was trying to do his best to be a better man and figure out his emotions.

You fastened your own belt, reaching over to intertwine your fingers with his as taking off always made you anxious. “He’s not worth it, don’t let him get to you. If he chooses to act like an idiot that’s on him not you.” You told him, running your finger across the gold signet ring that adored his left hand. You knew how important it was for him to try and do better after getting clean.

Rafe was so goddamn in love with you, it fucking almost scared him…and he had done some pretty scary shit. You were the only one who understood him. The calm to his brutal storm. He gave your hand a squeeze, kicking himself in the head on why he couldn’t be a man and tell you how he really felt about you. He had to figure out his emotions and fast before he lost you to someone that would never be worth your time.

Rafe seemed to be in a somewhat better mood as the plane landed, and he had eaten breakfast. That mood quickly changed though as he found out you two were riding in the same car as Sarah and Topper. You could see him from your peripheral vision, trying not to bang his head against the car window as Topper talked non stop. His hand came down to the pocket of his sweatpants, digging in them for a few seconds before pulling out the dark blue cart pen. He took a hit off of it, inhaling the smoke before blowing it out the cracked window.

“You know I don’t think those are the best for you man.” Topper said from behind you as Rafe took another hit. He was such an asshole, and as much as you loved Sarah you didn’t know how she put up with those smartass comments.

“Don’t care.” Rafe said, nonchalantly as he felt the weed cool his inner self down from the yapping that frosted tipped idiot was spewing.

It was Topper’s comment of “One addiction to another.” Whispered loudly on purpose to Sarah, that had Rafe immediately turning around.

“What the fuck did you just say?” He asked, blue eyes flashing dark in anger. The last thing that he needed was this dumbass to start speaking about shit he didn’t even know about in the first place. You slowly reached over, placing your hand on Rafe’s knee to give a gentle squeeze, knowing you were the only person that he would calm down for. You knew exactly how violent Rafe could get, and when he was on cocaine it was about 50 times worse. As hard as it was, and definitely wasn’t right, Topper wasn’t worth losing his cool over.

“Top, don’t.” Sarah told him softly, not wanting a fight already to happen on this trip. As much as she loved Topper and didn’t necessarily get along with Rafe, she still knew her boyfriend didn’t stand a chance with her older brother if his mood got to a 100.

“Fuckin pussy.” Rafe mumbled under his breath, turning back around and looking at you with apologetic blue eyes. God, he just wanted to be the best version of himself for you. There was no way you would ever give him a chance if he kept flipping out at every little thing that pissed him off. He had to keep the promise to himself to really try and do better, but that punk was already getting on his last nerves.

Thankfully the rest of the car ride to the resort went smoothly, the suv soon pulling into The Grand Floridian Resort & Spa. The entire family headed into the lobby, where Ward checked in and then told everyone the suite arrangements. Your parents along with Ward and Rose would be staying in one suite, while the rest of you would be staying in the other.

“There’s a room with two queen beds and one with a king size bed.” Ward started, handing the five of you keys. Before Wheezie could even say it, the older man put his hand up. “And Rafe is getting the king size bed.” He said, causing the 13 year old to pout. He then told the five of you to go explore the resort, relax or whatever you wanted to do before meeting at the restaurant Victoria and Albert’s later for dinner.

You couldn’t help but watch Rafe as he walked in front of you. You loved how tall he was, his frame massive and broad shoulders and muscular back, flexing effortlessly throughout the black t-shirt he wore. He was like a tree you wanted to climb and if you ever told him that out loud, he would most likely jokingly call you a dumbass. You quickly brushed your thoughts away as everyone piled onto the elevator, realizing every little thing Rafe was doing had you thinking about him.

The way you were standing, your back was pressed to Rafe’s front. He could smell your perfume, sexy and sweet just like your gorgeous self. Your perfectly shaped ass was too damn close to him, his hands gripping onto the railing to keep himself from wrapping his arms around your waist, and holding you against him. He was thankful yet disappointed that the elevator climbed to the right floor quickly before he lost control. You were damn near making it almost impossible, every little thing you did reminding him how in love with you he was. He had to start making some kind of move, even to see if you were open to the idea of being more than just best friends.

Entering the suite, you couldn’t help but laugh a little as both you’re parents always made sure everyone had the best. The suite was spacious, a small living area and kitchenette on the left side, while the right side held a small hall with two bedrooms spilt across from each other. It was when you were following behind Wheezie towards the room with the queen beds, that you felt Rafe tug your arm back.

You frowned, looking at him as you wanted to go set your stuff down. His tall body looked massive in the dim hallway, as you looked up into his blue eyes. He nodded towards the room behind him, before speaking. “Stay with me.” He said, his voice a little softer than usual.

You were no stranger to sharing a bed with Rafe, you had literally known him your entire life. You weren’t sure if it was your overwhelming feelings for him or what, but something about this felt different. You found yourself nodding though, watching him smile as he dragged you into the room with the king size bed.

“Can’t let my favorite girl suffer in there with Wheezie’s snoring and Sarah and bozo’s bullshit.” He said, shutting the door behind him. He loved his sisters, sure. You were superior to everyone in his mind though, especially since he was an asshole to every other female but you.

His favorite girl. It was something you heard often but never got tired of. You sat your bag down onto dresser, walking over to the window where you couldn’t help but smile at the view. “You bitched about coming here in the first place and you still get the room with the best view.” You teased him, pretty eyes glancing at Cinderella’s castle in the distance.

Rafe did get the room with the best view and it wasn’t Cinderella’s castle. “Yep, sure do. Wanna know why?” He asked, his long legs walking across the room to stand behind you so that he could see out the window better and just be near you again.

You hummed, looking back at him as his baby blue eyes shined in the sunlight as he looked down you. He smirked, leaning in closer towards your ear. “Because I’m fuckin Rafe Cameron and I get a whatever I want.” He whispered, his voice sending goosebumps down your skin as his hot breath tickled your neck. He had to make you his by the end of the week, he couldn’t go back to Kildare without having tried to tell you how he really felt about you. If you rejected him, it would be the most painful thing he would experience, but at least he would know.

tag list: @alinavalentine @rafesfuckdoll @ijustwanttoreadlols @maybankslover @rafeyswrd @gh0stsp1d3r @chenslucy @mattyskies @skye-44 @xoxohlala @saveahorserideaspacecowboy

if i missed anyone or you’d like to be added let me know! 💖

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes Nine✦

(Sexual Implication) Ghost, trying to be sexy by whispering: Gaggin’ for it, aren’t ya, love? Soap: Nope. Ghost: No? Soap: I don’t gag on anything. Ghost: *404 Error* Soap: …Ghost? Si? Simon, are you alright?

-- Y/N: Let’s play a word association game! Ghost: Why? Y/N: Because I saved your ass last mission and I’m bored, so you owe me. Ghost: *sigh* Fine. Y/N: P e r f e c t . Gaz: ?? Y/N: Cold. Ghost: Winter. Y/N: Spring. Ghost: Mattress. Y/N: Soft. Ghost: Comfortable. Y/N: Pleasant. Ghost: Sunset. Y/N, With a shit eating grin: Beautiful. Ghost, unconsciously: Johnny- Y/N: YES Gaz: OHHHHHH Ghost: Soap: *gasp* Simon!~ Ghost: I’m going to go crash in a heli. Y/N: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT-

-- Alex: Bitch do you want me to jump across this table? Because I don’t have all day for this. Norris: You feeling froggy? Leap. Alex: Okay, well here I come- Farah: Alex no, no- hOLD OFF

-- (NSFW Joke) Y/N: Oh sorry. I almost drank out of your cup. Soap: Wh-Just go ahead, it won’t matter! Y/N: Well I- Yeah no, you’re right. I’ve drank out of your cups dozens of times. Soap: We’ve sucked the same dick- Y/N: That’s a good point! Ghost: ….*sigh*

-- Gaz: What kind of girl do you like? Soap: My wife. Gaz: And you? Ghost: Johnny’s wife. Gaz: OH- Price, knowing they recently started a poly situation: Pfft-

-- (Use of the word pussy because haha) Gaz, filming: Pffft- Soap: Shhshh- Y/N in the hallway: FORTY THREE FUCKING CENTS! AHHHHH Soap: *wheeze* Y/N: I NEED A SUGAR DADDY!! Gaz: PFFFT- Soap: I can’t breathe- Y/N: At this rate I’m ready to plaster my fuckin’ pussy on the sidewalk for some sPARE CHANGE! Gaz & Soap: *doing that silent cackle thing and smack each other in the arm* Ghost, leaning into the room: What the f- Y/N: SPAARE CHANGE, SPARE CHANGE! ANYONE GOT ANY SPARE CHAAANGE?! Gaz: *coughing* Soap: Steamin’ Jesus I’m fucking crying- Y/N, passing by the room: 🎵Walkin’ in a winter wonderlaaaand🎶

-- Y/N: Would you love me? Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Would I love you if…? Y/N: nO ThAt wAs tHE QuesTiOn-

-- Y/N: Pretty boy! With me I said! Rudy: Rudy: Rudy: Oh I’m pretty boy! Y/N: Yes! Oo that came out a bit quick- (Also works with Soap & Gaz, honestly)

-- (THIS IS A CONCEPT IM TOO WHIMPY TO WRITE, SO HAVE IT HERE! THIS COULD WORK WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS Also, NSFW warning) Ghost: I don’t miss. Y/N, on his ear piece: Never? Even with distractions? Ghost: *turns his scope* Not ever. *just about to take a shot* Y/N: Hmm…what if I went… Mm Simon~ Ghost: *misses* Y/N: Ya missed. Ghost: Cheeky bitch…

-- Gaz: Alright, so, since we’re now in America and we have some time to kill, I went and I got you something. Y/N: Aww Gaz, you really didn’t have to- Gaz: *puts down their Whataburger order* Y/N: OH MY GOD Price: Really? Gaz: *shrug* Soap: *snickering as Y/N Fucking demolishes some fries* Y/N, having the time of their life: Garrick you ever need your dick sucked, a dead body buried, a beer or whatever, you call me. I got’chu Gaz: BAHA- Soap: *wheeze* Ghost: Are you fucking crying? Y/N with their mouth full: I missed it so much.

-- (Team bonding exercises) Soap: You’re a football player, it’s in ya blood! Gaz: That’s racist. Soap: Your soul? Gaz: That’s racist! Soap: …your eyes? Gaz: That’s gay- Soap: That’s homophobic. Gaz: That’s black. Soap: That’s racist!! Gaz: Damn- (this one is extra funny since Gaz is now confirmed LGBT)

-- Gaz: You overrated little twink! Soap: Hey I am a TWUNK, alright?! That is a combination, twink, and HUNK, get it?? Hunk-

-- Soap: Hey~ Fem!Y/N: You’re Gay. Soap: …oh yeah. Soap: *looks at Ghost* Soap: Hey.~ Ghost: *sigh*

-- Soap: I’m gonna have to meet men lying down. Y/N: …I thought’cha did?? Soap: OI!

-- Soap: Everyone says what a giving person I am! Y/N: He’s talking about when you’re in an upright position.

-- Graves: What if there’s a connection? Y/N: I think there’s a connection between your brain and wallpaper paste.

-- Shepard: Now you’re always ornery, rude, unpleasant, and sometimes downright mean. That’s part of your charm. Y/N: Thank you, you colluding-county-hopping-idiotic-relic. Price: *pride*

-- Alex: Oh my god, how are you such a good driver? Soap: Because there’s illegal shit in here. Alex: Soap: Because if I don’t use my turn signal, we’re both gonna do fifteen. Because I am going to lie and say yours. Alex: ….. Soap: Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart. Alex: *clicks it in places* Soap: You are not safe!

-- (Sucking dick joke) Kidnapper: You’re gonna do as I say or I will make you regret ever being born. Y/N: Oh please, I’ve sucked dicks more intimidating than you. Soap: Oh this is why Simon was the way he was after we rescued you both last time.

-- Soap, shoving marshmallows in his mouth: This isn’t very ha-*chokes* MILF!Y/N, across the fucking base: ….*mom instinct* Price: ??? Ghost: Uh- Y/N: Something just happened. Kyle: PFFT-

-- MILF!Y/N: *letting Soap & Gaz lean on her while Price and Ghost stand close behind* Untrue. I’m a mother now. It’s really changed my perspective. Graves: And do you find it hard juggling life and a career? Y/N: You can juggle these nuts.

-- Soap: *rambling* Soap: Agh, sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on- Ghost: Oi, keep talking before I kick your ass. Soap: ….. Gaz: See? This is exactly what I m-where the fuck are these flower petals coming from?? ARE THOSE SPARKLES??

[aethien11-blog]

NOTE: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS. (Also, I’m a sappy, silly, dork at times. Sorry not sorry.) I took some liberties when it came to JJK as I’ve only seen the two seasons on crunchy roll and kinda ran with it. Sorry if that’s upsetting.

The boys reactions to learning their s/o has been kidnapped

Fem Reader x : Sakuna, Megumi, Nanami, Itadori

WARNINGS: use of ‘naughty words’, mentions of blood, rape, mutilation, death, violence, and possible spoilers.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

The King of Curses was phased by nothing. Your presence (or lack of) wasn’t that important. He could go a day without you, without thinking of you.

Ryomen snarled. And yet here he was again for the fifth time this hour wondering how much longer you planned to take. Just how long did humans need to visit family for anyway? What was so damned special about it? 

“Great One!” Uraume immediately knelt beside him. 

“Uraume?” His four eyes blinked once before, “Where is y/n? Waiting my room?” It was a pleasant thought but his battle instinct said otherwise. 

“Forgive me, Great One. Lady y/n,” Uraume stiffened.

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” he snarled.

“Forgive my error. Lady y/n was taken, my Lord.”

“Taken?”

Maybe it was fear, maybe a blush that lit Uraume’s face. “Yes. Lady- lady y/n sent me away briefly so she could speak with her family. Apparently, I make them uncomfortable.” It was only a moment but it felt like an eternity passed before she spoke again. “I should have sensed it. I apologize for my error, Great One.” “What are you yapping about? And where is she?” Ryomen roared. 

It was impossible to still the tremble that shot through her body. “I don’t know where she is, Lord Sukuna. Only that she sent me away. I stepped to the door, heard something, turned and she was gone. Every member of her family were slaughtered in that moment.” Uraume trembled again. “I don’t know, my Lord.”

“Her body was not among the dead?” It didn’t hurt. He wouldn’t say that. His chest just moved weird when he asked. It wasn’t like his heart could actually hurt over this.

“She was not, my Lord.”

“Hm. I should have figured. You would have brought me a corpse at least, if that were the case.” 

“Your trust is flattering, my Lord.”

“Hmph. Find out who took her and what they want. You have one day.”

“My lord.” Uraume disappeared from his sight quickly then.

Yes. It didn’t matter if you were gone a whole day. He wouldn’t allow it to affect him but hell was coming for the creature that disrupted his plans for the evening. 

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

“Wow. I’ve seen stupid before, but you’re something else.”

“Ssshhh ut up, human.” The creature’s hissing speech was irritating enough but if this thing thought it stood a chance. “Or I’ll shh, cut out that ssstupid tongue.”

You giggle. “As if. Lord Sukuna will turn you into kibble.” Briefly you scrunch your brows before wondering out loud, “I wonder if Uraume has fed his pets yet today.”

A blade appeared, pressed to your lips. “Sssssh ut it!”

You can’t help but smile and lick the flat of it. “You don’t stand a chance.”

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

“Why are we being called in?” Megumi asked in his usual uninterested tone.

“The higher ups have a stick up their ass and they want us to pull it out…probably,” Gojo sniped before finishing with a grin. 

Megumi rolled his eyes. One day, his teacher was going to step too far and those same higher ups were likely to come down on him but today wasn’t the day…probably.

The doors came open as Megumi, Yuji, Nobara, and Saturo stepped close. “There is no time for greetings. Seat yourselves and let’s begin.”

“Well, nice to see you too,” Saturo Gojo sniped with a smile. “Whaddya got for us?”

Heavy sighs echo through the small room before a woman’s voice said, “Watch.” On a screen on the side of the room, a newscast was being played.

As soon as the reporter switched to the scene behind them, three sets of eyes turned to Megumi. He didn’t notice. His eyes were glued to yours looking up him through the screen. 

To say Megumi was used to loss was fairly accurate. He accepted loss was a part of every mission and pretty much expected it… but that was no excuse for you to go and get yourself captured by curse user. 

The demands were that one person alone was to deliver their required ransom for you (another cursed object that should never leave the school) or they would turn you into their newest curse. Worse, they made the demand publicly, ensuring the higher ups couldn’t just sweep their request (and you) under the rug. 

What none of them expected was that Megumi would volunteer to be the one to deliver their ransom. Or that he would have a plan to get you back without having to give up the cursed item.

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

These fuckers were in for a hell of a surprise. You weren’t worth anything and you knew it. Just some orphan left in the care of the state to manage a life that had thus far amounted to little. For fuck sake, you only graduated high school last year and who in their right mind tries to take a cafe barista as a hostage. These guys were nuts. 

But hearing what they demanded and their threats just riled you. No, you weren’t worth some great value but you’d be damned if they were doing a single thing to you without a fight. 

KENTO NANAMI

The steady clack of keys on keyboards was near deafening as the entire office echoed it. Blank faces stared at bright screens as the sun sank behind the horizon. Another day of boring repetitive garbage. 

Nanami stood from his desk, collecting his things in his usual slow and perfectly controlled manner. At least y/n should be ready by the time he got there. He had worked a little late, but then, you usually took an extra minute to close up shop. 

Nanami smiled to himself as he lifted his briefcase and slid his laptop in. You always made him a special set of bread as the last one of the day so it would be fresh and warm even after you both got back to his apartment. Maybe he should ask, no no. He shook his head and set his usual expressionless face back in place. No need to think of that right now.

Kento set his briefcase in the back seat before sliding into his car and starting it. Safer that way. You had a tendency to ‘chuck it’ into the back seat if it were in your way. The edges of his mouth curled into a smile. Anyone else and he would have been ticked about tossing an expensive laptop about like that but when you did it, it was cute. And even if it weren’t, the grin you give him after certainly was.

He barely managed to get the grin back under control by the time he was pulling up to your shop only to freeze as he parked. The glass door was shattered, the shop inside showing obvious signs of a struggle. 

Nanami felt like his blood was pumping through his body at several miles a minute then. On the outside, Kento was entirely calm as he slowly unbuckled and stepped out of his car. Only those that knew him would notice the difference. The way his fists tightened, the set of his jaw, or the measured gait he adopted as he stepped through the broken entrance. 

His eyes scanned the scene and picked up the single scrawled note with ease. 

“Want her, come get her.”

The paper crumpled in his fist before he shifted his attention to tracing the energy. They would pay for making him work overtime.

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

Much as you would love to (continue to) tell these guys off, one of them had already stuffed a sock in your mouth and duct taped it there. That didn’t really stop you though as you continued to hurl insults through your gag.

“Geez. If this guy doesn’t hurry up, I’m gonna kill the broad just to shut her up,” one of your captors grumbled. 

“Mmm mmnnnm mmm mm.” Your attempted snarl did little through your gag, and it wasn’t like you could fight back now. These jerks may be asses but they knew how to tie knots. Between the chafing on your upper arms and wrists, you had tested every way you could think of to get loose and were only too glad you had worn pants today instead of a skirt. 

YUJI ITADORI

Having adopted his mentor's distaste for meetings, Yuji trudged into the room with a heavy sigh. “Do we have to?” he whined.

You could just give up control and I could kill them all, Sukuna suggests amiably but Yuji ignores him.

Nobara slaps the back of his head. “You already know the answer to that. Sit down.”

Megumi barely managed not to smile before taking his seat. He blinked owlishly for a moment before the friendly wave confirmed his suspicion. “You’re here too?”

Yuta smiled. “Yeah. I’ll let them explain everything.”

“Must be pretty big if they called both of you here,” Yuji said with a grin as he looked between Yuta and Gojo. 

“You know it. Three first years are missing after being sent in and we’re going to go save them,” Gojo stated.

Sighs echo around the room. “Let’s begin the actual mission brief.” All eyes shifted to the screen. Typed out quickly was the message from Tengen. “Earlier this morning, three first year Jujutsu students, Eimo Makito, Rugi Kamisari, and y/n, were accompanied by two third years, Panda and Toge Inumaki, to subdue or suppress whatever was causing the disappearances over Lake Tazawa’s area. The reported incidents originally listed this as a Class 3 curse at best, but with our newest information, we believe there may be more than one special grade at work, making it appear lower to continue to deceive us. We can no longer rule it out.”

Yuji had stopped reading at your name and his eyes were glued to it until Megumi elbowed him lightly to draw his attention back to the meeting. 

You’re okay, right? This doesn’t mean you're dead. Just that….you’re missing.

“We currently do not know if any of the students are alive or not. The veil we placed has been encompassed by a stronger one and we have no way to get information in or out.”

“So we’re going in blind. My specialty,” Gojo stated with a grin.

Yuta chuckled beside him. “We can handle this-”

“I’m coming too,” Yuji shouted and everyone stilled before Gojo’s chuckle released some of the tension in the room. 

“Plan to be a knight and go save your princess?”

“It’s not just about y/n,” Yuji stated, though his blushing ears decried otherwise. “Panda and Toge are there too. We have to save them if we can.”

“You know they might already be dead.” Gojo just wanted to make sure it was clear, that Yuji wasn’t holding out hope on this one.

“I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Gre-at,” Megumi sighed and face palmed. “It's the detention center all over again.”

“Sorry, Itadori,” Yuta began. “But you can’t-”

“I’m coming too,” Yuji repeated. 

“Nuh-uh, kid,” Gojo said standing up. “I’ll let you come with us, but you are staying out side the barrier, you understand. You want to make sure everyone is safe, that’s fine. But you will keep yourself and Sukuna out of that barrier, clear?”

Despite the blindfold being on, Yuji could feel the blue eyes of his teacher boring into him. 

Finally he sighed in defeat. “Fine. I’ll wait outside the barrier. But,”

“No buts, or you're not going and I’ll leave you chained up here.”

Yuji’s silence to follow was taken for acquiescence. 

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

You blink your eyes open to an unfamiliar sight. The barrier above you seems almost black and the shimmering in it makes you want to vomit after looking at it for a moment. Like staring at trees outside a moving car window. You roll and tuck your left arm up. You're able to move it but the bone in your forearm is definitely broken. 

Your eyes land on Panda as you sit up. “How’s he doing?” you whisper through the pain. 

Panda smiles sadly at you. “He’ll be fine. Just needs a bit to get his throat to stop bleeding.”

“I’m sorry, Toge.”

Toge shook his head and smiled sadly at you. “Bonito flakes.” It even sounded choked and you felt your eyes water. He must be in incredible pain. 

You three were lucky. Eimo and Rugi weren’t as fortunate. You had to come up with some kind of plan to get out of here, but if these two didn’t have anything how could you?

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath.

“Salmon.” 

That at least got you to smile and you can tell that was his intention. You would get out of this. Together.

Again a quick and sincere thank you to Miss Vry (@vrystalius) for helping me with tags :D

[beartitled]

Did you play the pristine cut of STP? What do you think of Dragon, Cage and HappilyEverAfter if so?

Spoilers for STP pristine cut under read more (+ a lot of text warning)

Hehe I see STP ppl are excited and want more silly comics

Well there’s a lot of things to say tbh 👀

Overall really enjoyed new content so far

It kinda feels like a fanservice for the people who already played the game

Which is not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong ☝️

I just view the original game as a perfect instalment, which doesn’t really need a continuation

New scenarios is just a pleasant bonus

(I’m one shot/short story fan okay 👉👈)

I already saw Dragon and Happily After routes

Yet to see all the variations the Cage route has to offer (heard ppl said it’s the most diverse one)

The Princess and The Dragon

HEY REMEMBER HOW I SAID I DON’T LIKE THE IDEA OF CHANGING THE GENDERS OF THE CHARACTERS BC THAT WAY THE DYNAMIC WOULD BE UNSETTLING?

YEA SO THIS ROUTE EXPLORED THAT DYNAMIC GUYS

I enjoyed this route, bc again

It’s scary, uncomfortable, makes you feel unsafe and uneasy 👁️👁️

Awesome depiction of how scary this type of situation would be

And of course bonus points, we got to see the bird bois 🎉

(Opportunist go brush yo teeth, u spooky lookin ass)

Happily ever after

Ok

Noooow we’re talking

I love that route, it’s my favourite so far

The pain, the suffering, the absolutely devastated British crowman

Brilliant, chills

This one actually feels like a missing part of the og game to me

I wanted to go into details about my opinions on that route in the future post

But now I want to talk 😈

👏Smitten👏my boy👏how are you in your edgy villain era already omg

Can we just admit for a second how badass Smitten is for escaping protagonist’s body?

Like-💥

This was the first route I saw and was like “Ooooh that’s probably the new gimmick, every voice is doing to escape and shenanigans happen” AND NO Smitten is just that guy™️ absolute chad

Minus points for “we will give her something she doesn’t know she wants yet”

*hits Smitten with newspaper*

Bad voice 💥🗞️bad 💥🗞️ we listen to what 💥🗞️our queen 💥🗞️wants 🗞️💥🗞️💥💥

But it works okay

The atmosphere is immaculate, I was legit concerned for a moment

Ok now give me a moment to be a nerd ☝️🤓

I love how this route gives Smitten flaws

I think finally we saw that every voice has them, because voices are an isolated part of a person, a pure feeling if you will

And Smitten represents that naïve love idealisation/love obsession

The guy loves the princess, she is pure perfection to him

This feeling is blinding and honestly pretty toxic irl

During the whole og game Smitten was never conflicting?

He pretty much the comedic relief of the whole game (and least it felt like that to me)

I think he was kinda a missed potential

Yes, love is sweet

Crushes are can be funny, silly and overall just positive

But it can be so destructive, so painful and so so exhausting when it gets to the point of obsession

And that route gives you a direct illustration of it

Which is amazing

I honestly think we don’t have enough media just showcasing this feeling of obsessive love and how dangerous it is

(yandere trope doesn’t count 👿 this trope just kinda glorified the issue)

And the tragedy is SMITTEN IS TOO DELUSIONAL TO EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT HE’S DOING WRONG

My poor poor birb boy

He’s too focused on doing everything perfectly, to make princess satisfied, to make us satisfied, why isn’t it working? He does everything he can, why doesn’t it work? How doesn’t it work?

HE’S TOO LOVESTRUCK TO TAKE A STEP BACK AND REFLECT

AAAAAAAAA

God I’m insane about Happily ever after

As a person who struggles with this exact feeling of idolising and obsessing over ppl, I just really feel that route

Goth Smitten incoming *coughs*

Thanks for your question ❤️ hope you enjoyed reading my mess of thoughts💥

Share your thoughts in comments/reblogs if you want ppl

[spnbabe67]

FMLYHM

Kinktober Day 2: Rough Sex (J.S.)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Smut, slapping, spanking, choking (hand just on the neck) rough sex, language

Summary: Tatum and Hangman butted heads during their time at Top Gun, but when they are both called back for some unknown mission, tensions finally come to a head

Word Count: 3469

Tatum hated her call sign. Popular media would have you believe that callsigns have some badass origin, but in reality the kick ass nicknames often have the most embarrassing and enraging backstories. ‘Ice’ in theory sounds cool, mysterious even, like she was this cold, calm and collected person. If only that were the case. Enter her arch nemesis: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Whoever said that hazing ends in college was dead wrong. Barrack living isn’t pleasant, especially when during the first week of training she was woken up by a bucket of ice water dumped on her head by none other than Top Gun's golden boy. This event sparked a rivalry spanning the entirety of their time training. Back and forth, both Tatum and Jake took verbal, and in the case of dog fighting exercises, literal shots at one another, even going so far as to carry out physical pranks not unlike the inciting incident. By the time of graduation, as far as Tatum was concerned, if she never saw Jake again it’d be too soon. When she got correspondence she was being called back to San Diego something in her gut told her that that “too soon” was about to come to fruition.

The Hard Deck was already bustling by the time Tatum trudged through it's doors. The warm maritime breeze off the Pacific was a welcome change from the cold waters off Norfolk. She had to dig into the back of her closet to find clothes suited for warmer weather, including the pair of shorts and spaghetti strap tank she currently sported. It felt good to be back, Penny providing a familiar face as she approached the bar.

“Hey lovely, welcome back!” Penny didn't even have to ask before plinking two shot glasses down on the bar, filling them to almost overflowing with whiskey. She watched Penny grab one, sliding the other to Tatum. “You look like you could use it.” Tatum gave Penny a knowing smirk and a wink before they both tossed back their shots, Tatum savoring the burn on the way down.

Just then the doors slammed open, signaling the arrival of more evening patrons. Tatum glanced over her shoulder, blue eyes going wide as Jake sauntered in followed closely by Coyote. Tatum ducked back down, sucking on a tooth. Penny gave her a knowing look before refilling her shot glass, stating it was on the house before turning to a dark haired man a few seats down. Tatum swirled the liquor in the glass, eyeing Hangman who was setting up a game of billiards with Coyote. 

He hadn't changed much in the time since Top Gun, still tanned and sandy haired. From the snippets of trash talk that floated over the music and chatter, he was also still a cocky son of a bitch. Tatum shook her head, greedily swallowing down the whiskey. 

The clanging of the bell above the bar startled Tatum from her trip down memory lane, looking over to see the dark haired man Penny had been conversing with looking confused as hell until the bartender and owner pointed to the sign listing the trifecta of rules. Once the uproar of half drunk patrons died down, Tatum shifted from her spot, occupying the stool next to him.

“You must be new here.” Tatum jested, resting her forearms on the polished wood barrier. “Don't sweat it, we're all guilty of it.”

“You're just sayin’ that.” 

Tatum shook her head, smiling to herself at the memory. “Nope. My first week here I fell victim to the same thing you did.” She nodded to the phone the man was now holding.

The man's eyebrows twitched upwards, not an uncommon sight when she mentioned that she was a Top Gun graduate.

Tatum held out her hand. “Lieutenant Tatum Hayes. But my friends call me Ice.”

“At least they would if she had any friends.”

Fuck. A familiar but unwelcome voice sounded from behind her, accompanied by a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny Bagman.” Tatum deadpanned, looking at Jake's hand resting on her shoulder, trailing up his corded forearm, his bicep and eventually to the shit eating grin he sported. “You'd do well to remove your hand from my shoulder lest you lose it.”

She punctuated her thinly veiled warning with a smile that was more threat than a grin. When Jake didn't immediately step off she narrowed her eyes at him staring him down until he pulled his hand away, raising them in a mock placating gesture. 

“Simmer down Sally. Just bein’ friendly.” The ever present tooth pick wiggled with each word that dripped out of his mouth, southern drawl only putting Tatums nerves on edge.

“Huh, is that what they're calling assholery these days?” 

“That's not even a real word.”

“According to Urban Dictionary it is.” It was like no time had passed, their verbal volley as easy as breathing. 

“I take it you two know each other?” The dark haired man looked on with a vaguely amused grin on his face. 

“Unfortunately.” Tatum grumbled at the same time Jake replied in the affirmative in that nerve grating chipper tone.

“Aw come on now. I'm not that bad.” Jake leaned on the bar, the image purely male satisfaction. It was like he got off on riling her up like this. 

Tatum could feel the incessant body heat radiating off of him, he was close enough that if she breathed too deeply her arm would graze his torso. Tatum wasn't sure if she was just hyper aware from being on edge or Jake had gone overboard with his cologne but the sandalwood and bergamot practically shoved its way up her nose and into her lungs, not unlike how Jake inserted himself into her conversation. 

“I plead the fifth.” Tatum attempted to flag Penny down but she was preoccupied with another patron; she needed something, anything to get her out of this before she punched the smug look off of Jake's face.

From the way Jake was positioned behind her, Tatum could feel his breath tickled the back of her neck, making the hairs stand on end. She wished she could say it was unpleasant, how close he was to her, but it'd be a lie of epic proportions.

Jake then turned to the man next to them, a lupine grin adorned his features. “She tell you how she got her call sign?” 

At that Tatum felt her blood shoot up from a simmer to a boil. Her head whipped around, leveling a glare at him. “Don't you fucking dare, Seresin.”

“What? I'm just makin’ conversation.” Jake gestured to the stranger. “I'm sure the old timer here has seen, hell, he's probably participated in worse pranks than dumping ice water on a fellow pilot.” 

It was all Tatum could do to stop herself from throwing a punch. She was sure her face was red, her hands balled into fists. “Fuck you, Bagman.” Tatum reached over the bar, ringing the bell so hard it damn near flew off the hook. “Have fun buying the bar a round.”

Tatum nodded to the stranger before weaving her way through the crowds, ignoring Jake calling after her. Something condescending no doubt. All she could hear as she stormed out of The Hard Deck was the roaring of blood in her head, a pounding that couldn’t even be drowned out by the music she had blasting from the speakers of her truck. 

It wasn’t hard to find her way back to the barracks. The pilots with families, or at least significant others, could have utilized the on base housing, but for the otherwise unattached, back to basics it was. Thankfully it was a different room than the one she occupied while in training, no bitter memories tainting this trip around, at least she hoped. Tatum slung the duffel she’d hastily packed in preparation for flying out here along with her backpack onto the floor, collapsing onto the squeaky, twin sized bed. 

Tatum groaned into her pillow; after not laying down for the first time in almost 12 hours even the thin mattress felt heavenly. She was tossing around the idea of not bothering to undress or shower and just go to sleep where she lay when a knock interrupted her internal debate. Tatum had half a mind to simply ignore the person at the door, but under threat of ignoring a superior officer, she begrudgingly pushed herself up, stumbling over her haphazardly placed bags while doing so.

The annoyance that had waned on her ride over and the brief reprieve in her room was quickly reinvigorated as she was met with nearly a face full of Jake’s chest, the smug man leaning a forearm on the doorframe. Tatum scoffed, moving to slam the door in his face but Jake managed to slip his foot in before it closed all the way. A spark of satisfaction shot it’s way through her as Tatum clocked Jake’s wince with the force she closed the door on his foot, however unintentionally.

“Ice, let me in.”

“Why should I?” Although Jake’s foot prevented her from completely shutting him out, Tatum held her spot on the other side of the door, making it so if he wanted in her room, he’d have to push past her to gain entry.

“Because I asked nicely?”

Tatum stared at him in disbelief. How the fuck could he stand there acting buddy-buddy as if he hadn’t made her life hell for weeks, and continued to do so with his sharp tongue and even sharper smile, his maddening nonchalance. 

Tatum crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg. If he was gonna play that game, then she’d play it right back. “How’s your wallet feel, Bagman? Probably pretty empty.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed slightly, a small tell, but one Tatum was familiar with. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

“A hole you dug yourself.”

It was Jake’s turn to huff an exasperated laugh. “How? All I did was tell the fucking truth.”

Tatum’s hands fisted back at her sides. “You fucking son of a bitch. You humiliated me!” She couldn’t help the way her voice steadily rose as she became more and more angry. “You have ever since that fucking ‘prank’ on day three.”

“Come on.” Jake threw his head back, sighing through his nose. “You’re still mad about that? It was a fucking prank.”

“You came into my dorm and dumped a bucket of ice-water on me in my sleep!” There was no mistaking Tatum’s tone for anything other than yelling at this point. “Do you realize how violating and frankly immature that is?”

“Immature? That’s rich coming from you. You cut holes in all of my boxers!”

“I was just trying to help facilitate you being the manwhore that you are.” Tatum remembered that particular slight. Jake had pinned a pair of her panties to the bulletin board in the Mess, so when Tatum had been switching her laundry and found Jakes in the dryer she’d picked out all of his boxers, taking her scissors to them, cutting off the flap at the front before putting them back. “I shared a wall with you. You think I couldn’t hear every time you brought a skank to your room?”

There it was again, that panty-dropping smile. Jake had moved off of the door as they argued, but in his pause in their back and forth he leaned forward again, bracing a hand back on the edge of the door frame. “You ever think I wanted you to hear?”

Tatum opened her mouth, ready to spew some vile retort, but the words dripping from Jake's lips settled and Tatum realized what he said. “Wh-What? What’re you even-What?!” 

Every thought and retort suddenly disappeared and her mind went blank. She was so stunned that as Jake eased the door open and slowly prowled closer into her room, Tatum just dumbly backed up. Step by step he backed her into her room, shutting the door and flipping the lock with a neat snick.

“I think you heard me.” Jake said lowly. “And I think you heard me fuck every girl I brought back and imagined it was you.”

Tatum felt her mouth go dry in the same second her panties were instantly soaked. The worst part? He wasn’t wrong. Her bed shared a wall with Jake’s and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t slipped her hand down her sleep shorts a couple times imagining Jake’s sinful mouth against her clit or his dick inside her instead of her own fingers. Tatum watched the way Jakes eyes dipped down to her throat as she swallowed thickly, trailing down to her chest, the way her low cut tank accentuated her breasts, especially the way her crossed arms pushed them upwards. She kept her eyes stubbornly on his face, resisting the urge to let her own eyes wander. She attempted to rebuild her resolve, huffing a breath through her nose.

“I don’t-I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about Bagman.”

“It's Hangman.” Tatum watched as Jakes eyes dipped to her lips

“Whatever.”

She barely got the word out before Jake’s mouth was on hers. It was a rough and aggressive kiss, all tongue and teeth. His grip was rough on the back of her neck, holding her face to his, the other held fast to her hip. With a quick move Jake had her pinned back against the door, the sudden force against her back causing her to gasp. Jake took the opportunity to sweep his tongue further into her mouth, holding her against the door with his hips against her own. Mindlessly her hands brushed up and down his torso, nearly moaning at the hard muscles she felt under her palms. Filthy thoughts flooded her mind. Images of grinding her clit against the ridges of his abs and pecs, his large hands that were gripping her hips guiding her movements. She let hands travel under his shirt, nails scraping against the smooth skin she found there. 

Jake removed his hands from her, pulling his shirt over his head letting it fall to her bedroom floor. Tatum greedily gulped down air as she finally let herself take in the glory that is shirtless Jake Seresin. Tatum pulled her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes dragged from his face down his chest and his torso,down to where there was a noticeable bulge in his jeans.

“I think,” Jake motioned to the corner of his lips. “I think you got a little drool there.”

Tatum grabbed Jake’s jaw, bringing him down to within a hair's breadth of her lips. “Do me a favor.” She leaned forward, nipping his bottom lip. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

Tatum kissed Jake hard, the hand on his jaw threading up into his hair, keeping him close as she pushed him back towards her bed. Tatum yelped as Jake wrapped his arm around her waist, spinning them around so she ended up on her back on her bed Jake hovering over her. Her breathing became shallow as Jake’s hot mouth trailed down her jaw and began to nip and suck down her neck, pulling a low moan from her as he bit at her collarbone. Tatum’s hands found their way to fumble with the button on his jeans, pulling them and his boxer down just enough for his dick to pop out, slapping against his lower stomach. Before she knew it, Tatum found herself on her stomach, a mouth full of her own pillow, Jake kneeling behind her. 

Tatum heard Jake curse as his fingers curled around the waistband of her shorts, surprisingly nimble fingers undoing them before ripping them down her legs. The air was cool against her glistening pussy, her arousal coating her inner thighs. Tatum was glad her face was buried in the pillow because she was sure it was bright red, embarrassed how aroused she was. She shivered as one of Jake’s calloused fingers trailed up her sides, pushing her tank top up, pulling it off with Tatum’s help.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Jake mumbled into the back of Tatums neck as he trailed kisses down her spine. “Wanna know a secret?”

Tatum could barely make sense of the words Jake was mumbling over the pounding rush of arousal. The most she could muster was a halfhearted hum, jolting suddenly as Jake’s thumbs brushed against her pussy lips, spreading them apart. Tatum let out a moan as Jake’s cock rubbed up and down her slit, brushing against her clit that had been throbbing since he had slammed her against the door. Jake’s hands gripped her hips, lifting them up, up, up, using a knee to spread her legs apart. Tatum let out a shuddering moan as Jake’s cock pushed its way into her, she could feel every vein and ridge as she clamped down on him. Jake moaned lowly sinking in until his hips lay flush against her ass, one hand braced on her spine keeping her chest pressed to the mattress. 

She shuddered as she felt his tongue trail up her spine, draping himself over her and pinned her hands to the bed above her head. “Every time I fucked some girl,” Jake pulled out until only the tip of his cock sat inside her before snapping his hips backforward, bottming out in one harsh stroke. “I’d imagine I was fucking this sweet pussy instead.”

Tatum moaned loudly as Jake harshly fucked into her, his crude words only making her wetter, letting his fat cock slide easily in and out of her. She was shoved forward with each hard thrust into her pussy, her hands pinned to her pillow by Jakes, the only thing keeping her from being fucked up the bed. She felt the air flow before the sting of Jake’s hand against her ass cheek. Tatum bit her lip hard enough to taste blood to keep from crying out. Fuck, the pain mixed with the pure arousal of him sliding in and out of her at that rapid pace. Three more times his hand came down in rapid succession, each slap more stingy than the last. This time Tatum did yelp, but it quickly turned into a moan as Jake set a punishing pace, hips slapping against her sore ass. 

“How many times did you touch this pussy wishing your fingers were my cock? Huh?” Jake growled in her ear.

Tatum nearly whined at the empty feeling as Jake pulled out but it was caught in her throat as he manhandled her onto her back before slamming back into her. Her eyes fluttered closed, mouth dropped open as his warm hand wrapped itself around her neck, fingertip resting over her pulsepoint; Tatum was sure if Jake pressed a little harder he could feel her pulse pounding like a hammer.

“Does my girl like that, huh?”

Tatum’s eyes snapped open, jaw clenched as she fought up the building pressure low in her belly. She locked her thighs around his hips, swiftly flipping them over. She looked down to see Jake looking up at her with a vaguely shocked expression. Before she knew what she was doing, her hand was across his face with a loud slap. 

“The fuck did I tell you?” Tatum braced her hands on his chest, rocking her hips back and forth, matching his harsh pace. She smacked him again, leaning forward so most of his cock slid out of her. She smashed her mouth against his, shoving her tongue into his mouth. 

She moaned into his mouth as his hands gripped her hips so hard she knew she’d have bruises in the shape of his fingertips tomorrow. She let him slam her hips back down onto him, thrusting his hips up to meet her grinding down on him. The way his pubic bone rubbed against her clit had the warm feeling growing in her belly, a coil on the verge of snapping. Tatum dug her teeth into Jake's bottom lip as she rode him hard until finally she felt that coil snap, a keening moan swallowed by Jake’s mouth. Her legs shuddered as Jake’s thrusts became more and more erratic until she felt him lift her off him, fisting his cock until he came over his stomach. 

Tatum knelt, panting on the bed as she felt her heart rate go back to normal. She felt a hand on her thigh, looking down at Jake still lounged before her, sprawled on her bed. She narrowed her eyes, cocking her head to the side.

“This is a one time thing.”

There it was again, that shit eating grin. “That’s what you say now.” His hand trailed higher on her thigh.

“No one would ever believe you anyway.”

[daisyrb-gvf]

Cruising Into Love

d.r.w. x f!reader

My first post on tumblr, but definitely not my first fic. Danny's cruise picture had this story pouring out of me, so I hope you all like it! I thought this first chapter would be longer than it is, but the next part of the story deserves its' own chapter.

Words: 3.2k

Summary: After 3 mundane months of working on a cruise ship, you're met with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

Warnings: plenty of swooning, language and brief mentions of f masturbation.

You sigh as you zip up the back of your fitted black dress. Another night, another performance. You love being an entertainer, and sitting behind the keys is as close to home as you can get on this ship, but after 3 months of your 8 month stretch, it is starting to feel so redundant, and there are only so many songs that are approved to perform at the piano bar. The boss wasn’t too pleased with your medley of LL Cool J songs with an audience consisting of mainly 50-80 year olds. Tight ass. 

“Just three more nights and you get a break,” you reassure yourself as you touch up your makeup in the pathetically tiny mirror that looks huge in this shoebox of a bathroom. 

“Alright girl, I’m off,” you say to your slightly-less-than-pleasant bunk mate. It could be worse, but it would have been nice to bunk with someone who actually seemed to give even half a fuck about you. At least she wasn’t mean. Just…distant. 

“Kay,” she replied with enthusiasm akin to a corpse, not bothering to look up from the sketch she was working on. You sighed again, feeling like you’ll never be able to chip away at that wall. You didn’t come here to make friends, but damn, a little human connection would be nice sometimes. 

– – –

Your body shuddered as you threw back a shot of tequila at the bar. “Thanks, Chris,” you said to the bartender-one of the few people who will have an actual conversation with you. He winked before flicking his eyes over to a young, classically hot dude. Boyish features, blue eyes, sandy blonde hair…you get it, but definitely not your type. 

“Down boy,” you say with a chuckle as you wink back at him. 

Settling down at the keys, the audience gives you a small applause as the chatting dies down. 

“How’s everyone feeling tonight?” you ask the small crowd, mustering up as much enthusiasm as you can. You get a small cheer, and a few whoops from the more inebriated folks. “You mind if I play a few songs for you?” A louder cheer encourages you as your hands start to dance across the ivory keys. 

Ooh you can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

Ooh, see that girl

Watch that scene

Digging the dancing queen

The crowd sings along with you-definitely one of the more tone-deaf groups you’ve played for, but at least they seem to be having fun. Dancing Queen is always a good opener, and one of your favorites, so you prefer to start the shows this way. 

The crowd cheers as you segue into your next number. People are getting tipsier with each song, and you have to admit, it is pretty entertaining. Drunk crowds are typically great audiences unless they get belligerent. 

“Alright, it’s been a blast playing for you all tonight,” you say as you start the intro to your final song.

I needed the shelter of someone’s arms

And there you were

I needed someone to understand my ups and downs

And there you were

WIth sweet love and devotion–

Holy shit. Who is that guy? A tall, dark, and handsome man emerged into your view after an elderly couple left the table in front of his. You miss a note and snap back into focus through the chorus. What the hell? Why is some random-admittedly gorgeous-dude throwing you off? That’s new. You make it through the second verse, but after that it’s impossible to not steal another glance. Your knees get a little shaky as you drink him in, thankfully keeping your shit together in your performance. You watch him sing along as he drums his fingers on the little bistro table. You realize you glanced a little too long once he smirks at you, locking eyes. You blush red and avoid the entire corner of the room where he is sitting for the rest of the song. Oh God, how embarrassing.  

The crowd cheers as the song ends and you take a bow before immediately walking back over to the bar…which, unfortunately, is far too near the gorgeous man in the corner. 

“One more tequila, please, Chris,” you say anxiously as he chuckles. 

“Little flustered there, aren’t you? Wouldn’t have anything to do with that yummy Greek statue of a man there in the corner would it?”

“Shut up, Chris,” you whisper, your face turning redder by the second. 

“Mmhmm, okay. Whatever you say,” he says with a smirk before walking to the other end of the bar serving the influx of post-performance guests. 

Walking out of the room, you make it maybe ten feet before realizing you left your phone behind the bar. 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, debating on walking back now or waiting until the crowd clears in hopes of avoiding the gorgeous creature who made you pathetically weak in the knees. 

“Oh, come on, he is just a man. Get the fuck over it,” you mutter again, rolling your eyes at yourself. You turn around and make it one step before slamming straight into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” you both say in unison as large, warm hands wrap around your shoulders, steadying you. Of-fucking-course. 

“Oh, no worries!” the insanely beautiful man replies, dropping his hands from your shoulders. The summer breeze feels colder than it had before as your whole body flushes. 

“Oh-um-yeah, okay,” you sputter out with a nervous smile. Good God, get your shit together. 

He chuckles, “Your performance was great. We loved it,” he says warmly as a beautiful, tall, brunette woman walks up next to him. Of course. There’s no way this man could be single. It only makes sense that he would have one of the most staggeringly gorgeous women on his arm. 

“Yes, it was lovely!” she chimes in, hooking her arm through his as she reaches out a hand to shake yours. 

“Oh, thank you!” trying to stay as cool as possible and not show your disappointment, you shake her hand and flash a smile. 

“I’m Josie, and this is my brother, Danny,” she introduces. 

Oh. Brother. He’s her brother. The relief you feel is embarrassing and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You sense it does, based on the tiny smirk Josie is clearly trying to hold back. 

“Nice to run into you,” Danny says with a chuckle, reaching his hand out to shake yours as well. He holds your gaze for just a moment longer than you expected. Just long enough for your breath to catch as you get lost in his dark hazel eyes…flecks of gold, brown, and green-the warmest eyes you’ve ever seen. He flashes a bright white smile that makes your chest tighten. 

“Yeah, uh, you too,” you reply with a nervous giggle, your voice barely shaky. Oh my God, you are so fucking embarrassing. 

“Come on, Dan. We’re late meeting mom and dad,” Josie says, leading Danny down the hallway. “Nice meeting you!” 

“Yeah, you too!” You stay glued in place for a moment, watching them walk away. Damn, the back looks just as good as the front. Danny turns around at that moment, catching you staring. He smirks and winks before turning back around, disappearing as they turn a corner. 

“Real smooth, you idiot,” you sigh, tossing your head back before walking back into the bar. 

– – –

You got almost no sleep that night, and it infuriated you. Losing sleep over a man you barely met. Get a grip…but, those eyes-such a warm hue, long lashes, smooth, tan skin, he had a little dusting of freckles on his cheeks and angular, almost avian, nose. His features were masculine and sharp, with a jaw that could probably cut glass, but his kind eyes and heart-melting smile made him seem so…soft. You could tell he was a man who wasn’t afraid to do some grooming and pampering. With skin like that and shiny, dark brown, perfect ringlets of hair long enough to barely brush his shoulders…yeah, he put some effort into his appearance. His demeanor didn’t seem cocky or vain, though. Confident, sure, but not full of himself. Ugh, and then that body. 

“Oh, come on,” you say exasperatedly to yourself as you roll over for what was probably the 20th time, trying to relax. “You’re not 13 years old. For God’s sake, you are 25. Act like it.” 

You take a deep breath and relax one muscle at a time, feeling the gentle rocking of the ship lulling you to sleep. You start to drift off and the image of Danny turning around to wink at you jolts you awake again. 

“What the hell? May as well just stop fighting it,” you say defeatedly, letting your mind drift off to Danny with no resistance. You close your eyes again as you try to remember every detail. His sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, slender hips and legs, but you could definitely see the muscle definition under those tight black jeans. You let out a little giggle as you remember the cheesy little shark tooth necklace dangling on his collarbone, just above a small patch of black hair dusted on his sternum. His short-sleeved top was unbuttoned just below his pecs, leaving the rest of his torso up to your imagination. You find yourself imagining how it would feel to run your hands over his warm, undoubtedly hard, stomach before smoothing them around to his back, running up to his sturdy, broad shoulders. You know what would help you sleep, but even alone in your bunk, you’re embarrassed that seeing this man for a few moments would cause you to slip your hand into your shorts. You wonder if you had met him earlier in the day it would have given you time to shake it off. Maybe take a run around the 7th floor track that wraps around the ship on the deck. But for now, you need sleep, so you do what needs to be done. Thank God your bunkmate is working the overnight shift. It only takes a few minutes before you finish with a soft sigh, drifting off to sleep seconds later. 

– – –

Hard as you tried, you can’t help but feel a slight pang of disappointment when Danny doesn’t show up at the next night’s performance, and you feel pathetic for that. This is a huge ship. It’s impossible to do even half of the activities offered, so why would he come to the same show twice? To see you? Come on, girl. Get real. The self-loathing is bubbling up inside you as you attempt to exhaust yourself by running seven miles. Does it work? Absolutely not. You’ve never felt so electric and energized. Any other time you would have been grateful, but not now. Not when, despite your exhaustive efforts, you still find yourself relieving that ache in your core before drifting off to sleep. 

Rolling out of bed the next morning, you feel a bit better. The exhaustion from your run the day before caught up to you, and your legs feel like they are on fire. Thank God. Despite the pain, you brush your teeth, throw your hair in a bun, and slip on a tank top, shorts and running shoes, making your way to the 7th floor. Maybe after today’s run you won’t even think about him when you fall into bed tonight. 

A small smile forms on your face as you close your eyes, feeling the sea breeze enveloping you as you step through the double glass doors onto the deck. Most people you know prefer to run out on forest trails, feeling the crunch of leaves and soft dirt under their feet, seeing the sun filter through quaking aspens, hearing songs from morning birds harmonizing together. You love it too, but the power and energy that the ocean offers can’t be beat. You start off with a slow jog, warming up your aching muscles, before finding your stride. You feel as if the ocean is running alongside you, the waves matching your pace. You finally start to feel like you’ve found your footing again-literally and figuratively. After your first lap you see a few more people making their way onto the deck. Most come out for a nice walk, just enjoying the view they don’t get to see often. You see a sweet old couple, moseying along hand-in-hand. Just walking silently. Comfortably together. This is a common sight around here, but you feel a bittersweet sort of heartache for just a moment before someone whizzes right past you. 

Long legs, narrow hips, mess of dark chocolate curls tickling those broad, tanned shoulders with each step, the navy blue muscle tee giving you a much better view of those shoulders as they flex and move in tandem with his strong, lean legs. Legs that he clearly enjoys showing off based on the yellow shortie-shorts he’s sporting. You increase your pace with a surge of adrenaline, but also so you can get as close as you can to the view. As he reaches the curve of the track at the front of the ship, he looks over his shoulder at you, grinning before picking up his pace. Is he…challenging you? Oh, it is so on. You weren’t an all-state track star for nothing. You grin and take a deep breath, pushing yourself faster, the excitement dulling the burning pain in your thighs. Danny hears you round the corner as you catch up to him, chuckling through his steady, heavy breaths. You’re not letting those long, sculpted legs have an advantage over you. Ignoring the burn in your chest, you surge forward faster, eventually passing him. Looking over your shoulder you catch him staring at your ass. He quickly looks away and out at the ocean. If you weren’t puffing and panting so hard, you’d probably giggle, but it’s all you can do to stay focused and not let him catch up to you. You both run another lap, taking turns being in the lead before you both give up and just run at a steady pace next to one another. 

“Okay, I give up,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “You’re good! How long were you running before I came out?” You couldn’t help but shiver slightly hearing the deep timbre of his voice between his panting breaths. 

“Oh, just barely over a lap,” you reply, doing your best to not sound like you’re dying, and failing miserably. 

“Safe to say this is something you do often?” He runs the back of his hand down his neck, wiping off a bead of sweat that rolled from his chin down over his prominent Adam’s apple. 

Taking a big gulp of air that had nothing to do with your exhaustive run, you wipe sweat from your brow and try not to stare at his neck and shoulders glistening in the sunlight. “No, this is my first time,” you say as seriously as you can manage. 

“Are you joking?!” he asks incredulously. 

A laugh bubbles up at the sight of his adorably confused and surprised expression. “Absolutely. I’ve been running basically my whole life.” Your breathing is finally starting to slow along with his, the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders still exaggerated, but not as fast. 

“Oh, thank God,” he replied, flashing that bright smile, your breathing picking up again ever so slightly. 

“Bit competitive, huh?” You walk over and grab a couple of towels and water bottles from the recently restocked shelf. 

He chuckles, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You hand him a towel and bottle and he immediately chugs half of the water, a tiny bit of it running down his chin, the small stream of cool liquid mixing with the sweat on his neck, traveling down his protruding Adam’s apple again. “Thank you,” he says, wiping his brow with the slightly scratchy fabric of the generic beach towel. 

“Oh, yeah..uh, you’re welcome,” you awkwardly sputter, yet again embarrassed by the reaction this man is getting from you for basically just existing. 

He drops his head, clearly trying to be a gentleman and hide his knowing smirk. After a brief awkward moment he looks out at the water. “Bet this never gets old, does it-getting to run with the waves every day?” 

“Never,” you reply, with a contented sigh. “The ocean is the best running buddy I’ve ever had, no offense,” you giggle. 

He chuckles back at you, “None taken. I totally understand. I wish I could do this every day.”

You both saunter over to the railing and lazily lean over the smooth, wooden bar. 

“Well, they’re basically always hiring here. Want a job?” you ask with a chuckle. 

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies, his large hands gripping the rail as he leans back slightly, enjoying the breeze. His damp curls already drying from the salty air. 

“This sea breeze is really the only thing that could do any tempting. Cruise life behind the scenes isn’t very glamorous. I’m sure whatever you’re doing now is better than this.” 

“Maybe so. Depends on the day.” 

“So, what do you do?” you ask, turning around to lean your back against the railing as you take another sip of water. 

“Danny! I thought you said you were going to wait for me?” Josie bursts through the glass doors, looking irritated. “Oh hi!” she says, flashing a bright smile-very similar to her brother’s-at you. “It’s good to see you again. You want to join us on our jog?” 

Josie is so bubbly and bright. She has that magnetic energy that people are just naturally drawn to. Matched with her staggering beauty (that clearly runs in the family), you imagine that there are plenty of unsuspecting people out there who have been left in a haze by her presence. You find yourself just a bit jealous of whatever genes run in that family.

“Oh, thank you for asking, but I actually just finished up here. I don’t think I have another lap left in me,” you chuckle, finishing off what’s left of your water. “Not after kicking this guy’s butt,” you giggle nodding your head in Danny’s direction. 

“Excuse me?” he retorts, “I do believe that it was a tie,” he laughs. My God, he has the most adorable laugh you’ve ever heard-kinda dorky, actually, and you are so glad this Greecian god has been humanized a bit, even if it did make your heart ache more for him. 

“I believe you,” Josie loudly whispered to you with a wink, “and thank you for tiring him out a bit. Now I can outrun him,” she laughed before bolting down the track. 

“Oh come on, sis! That’s not fair!” he called out, running after her. After a few strides he slowed down and turned around, running backward, “It was good to see you again!” 

You watched him run down the track, frozen in place again, until he turned the corner. 

“Guess I’ll be losing more sleep tonight,” you mutter with a sigh before walking inside to take an ice cold shower.

LOTS more Danny in the next chapter, I promise. I'm a slow-burner.

Go to Chapter 2

@spark-my-nature

[snowfolly]

So I got to the Daylight Inn in BG3 today and I had Astarion in my squad, and as we were hanging out and chatting up Isobel after rescuing her from Marcus, I started hearing a male character singing really softly. I switch characters around to see if I can find them and BOOM I find out ot's Astarion singing softly to himself while idle. I couldn't quite make the lyrics out but he sounded a bit distant and sad...made me want to hug him again.

OH NO… little guy, that’s so cute ;A; I absolutely love this and really, really hope this triggers for me in (one of) my current pts!

I have heard audio of him humming before (and it was so flat- which is super endearing to me lol), BUT this ask made me have some big hcs and I had to write and draw some boys about it lol

-

I imagine that Astarion really, truly loves to sing, that he gets catchy tavern songs stuck in his head for days and goes about his business singing to himself. However, the other spawn would continuously tell him to never to do so in their presence because he can't hold a tune, what kind of elf can’t sing? And what in the names of all the gods did he have to sing about anyway? Besides the song of agony that Cazador made him sing…

By the time he ends up a tadfool in our favorite merry band of misfits he’s learned well not to dare let his discordant voice slip in front of other people. He has to be charming, he has to be pleasant so that they keep him around. And his song is not a pleasant one.

He can’t help himself though, he still hums and sings quietly as he strolls through the woods, when he’s reading or sewing, in times when he thinks he’s entirely by himself. But Tav, godsdamnit, Tav takes notice. 

Tav startles him one night, telling him that they recognize the tune that he’s humming and that it’s one of their favorites. Astarion’s pissed that they were listening in on him, but he’s more surprised that he isn’t shot down immediately, that he’s not met with expected snark for not being able to carry a tune in a bucket, but Tav doesn’t belittle him… which is odd.

In time Astarion still keeps his songs to himself around the rest of the party, but as he begins to trust Tav he finds himself becoming more and more relaxed with them. He realizes that he can be himself around them, well, whatever parts of himself still left to him at this point anyway.

But it was a novel concept, this acceptance, a concept he learned to greatly appreciate. And Tav seems pleased to see (and hear) him being comfortable with them, being happy. Tav cares for him.

Tav cares for him after no one had given a rats ass about him for two centuries. What a concept indeed.

So Astarion continues humming flatly and singing badly,  Tav joins him often and they belt out old folk songs or bawdy tavern numbers together on their long journey, making up colorful (and hilariously crass) new verses as they go. 

And he comes to realize that this, this time with Tav is what being close to a person is supposed to feel like.

That being put down and belittled for something that a person enjoys is not universal. 

That constantly being on guard is not normal.

That another person can actually bring him joy, and that caring for someone is... possible.

Tav says that they enjoy singing with him, that they could go on singing with him forever, that they love his song.

And would it be so bad to sing of love instead of sorrow? Would it be so bad to share his song with them for as long as time would allow? He wasn’t quite sure yet, it was all so new.

But as he walks with Tav, arm in arm, belting out a bawdy old ballad to the heavens and all unfortunate ears within a mile, he had to admit that the thought of forever was enticing.

-

Thank you so much for the ask! And sorry it took 5ever bc it inspired me to make a little Drabble and doodle :>

[c6jpg]

natlan act 3 and 4

act 3

i feel like i liked this act if i just. ignore everything closely related to the main plot LMAOOO

idk everything about natlan's main plot just feels very like. unfocused and wishy washy??? mavuika's plan sucks, capitano's plan sucks, the backup plan sucks, despite everything i'm not really feeling the urgency of the crisis either???

the writing in general just feels like they needed the plot to move in a certain direction but they didn't really know how to execute it so everything just feels half-assed

in short the plot sucks and they're just trying to cover it with spectacle

but i think i enjoyed act 3 just because i like the characters more in general. citlali was a pleasant surprise i quite like her so i didn't mind that it focused on her and ororon, unlike the everyone loves kachina nonsense we got in the first 2 acts

that being said ororon's whole thing for me was like... i can see the bones of an interesting character there but his reasoning/actions didn't really feel believable it was just convenient for the plot at the moment

his intended gap moe also didn't really work imo like it was oscillating too much between serious angst and the soft boy granny shit lol. the khaenrian possessing him for a sec was just so fucking random too

the whole infiltration scene with chasca and chuychu would have been good if we could actually.... play it.... it felt rather pointless otherwise. like we can run around as mavuika but not chasca???? it's not like we're doing anything with a kit here!!!!

i also really liked the sister dynamic between those two. chuychu should have been playable damn it and i feel like she would have been if not for. well. the next act

capitano idk. i cannot take him seriously he just feels so goofy cartoony villain but not actually to me lmao

act 4

i can't say that act 4 redeemed the natlan archon quest, but it was significantly better than the previous 3 acts, specifically because of the invasion part

the circumstances that led to the fatui and us joining forces still feel silly and wishy washy to me but now that we're over that we can actually get to the meat of the plot

i'm still gonna shit on capitano being a goofy character for me but he was better in this act

the invasion part was by far my favorite, the map intel thing was an amazing mechanic. it had me super immersed AND emotionally invested - it was really cool being able to see who was doing what where, and each fight and update just got more and more distressing and heartbreaking

i kept harping in previous acts about how the stakes did not feel like they were there and how the abyss didn't really feel like a threat but they sure damn did here

one of the few instances it felt like genshin was really showing, not telling, and it worked

also fucked up that chuychu dying was necessary for chasca to awaken her ancient name they should have given her playable character plot armor

anyways the entire invasion arc was fun. i don't have much to say about it otherwise since it wasn't really a lot of plot just a lot of action.

i'm gonna be real with you all though i really don't care for mavuika she feels very nothingburger of a character to me. compared to the other archons she feels incredibly flat and one-dimensional even my goofy friend capitano over here is more interesting at the moment

that one shot of the false sky was hype though like GIRL WHAT THE FUCK IS THATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Azul, Jack: An Honest Effort

The first thought I had about the Groovy is… MAN’S BARELY OFF THE GROUND (as expected). I imagine that Azul aggressively insisted to the photographer they should lie on the ground to get a high angle shot of him on the broom just to give the false impression of him being higher up than he actually is.

I wanted to write about Azul coming to terms with accepting who he was, as well as shed a light on how hardworking he is. He didn’t just take the easy way out, he actually worked his ass off in all that he does. There’s many instances of Azul going above and beyond go improve, even for things he sucks in or for inconsequential things (flying in his P.E. Uniform vignette, rolling the dice in his School Uniform vignette). He deserves recognition for that.

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What do you do on your days off?”

“I don’t much like to be idle. Time is money, and I would prefer to not waste either,” Azul expelled a breath. “If you must consider it a ‘day off’, then... I wake up early, prepare myself a drink, and peruse the papers. When there is no work to be done, it’s all about self-maintenance.”

“I agree it’s important to take care of yourself, but... You’re basically still working at that point.”

“You could put it that way, yes. However, sharpening one’s mind is not just busywork. It’s also like a kind of training to strengthen the brain, similar to how one would train to strengthen their muscles.”

“Now that, I get.” Jack nodded. “There’s nothing like the burn after a good, honest workout.”

At this, Azul winced. “I fail to see the appeal of such a thing. It’s hardly a sensation that I’d call pleasant. However, I suppose it can be nice to physically feel the results of rigorous effort.”

“You should try it sometime then. You’d appreciate training the muscles if you worked up a sweat yourself.”

“... I do.”

The effect on Jack was immediate. The beastman’s eyes popped, jaw hanging open and fur standing on end.

“HUH?! Azul-senpai, you... train?! Seriously? I never thought I’d hear the word from your mouth!”

“Yes,” Azul replied, bristling. His voice was set in frost. “Is that really so difficult to believe?”

“It’s just--” Jack stopped himself and reconsidered. “You’re not the type of person I picture doing that kind of thing.”

“What does it matter if I am or not? Anyone is capable of exercise, and it is well within my right to do so.”

“Er… yeah, you’re right.” The shock quickly turned to shame, and Jack’s ears flattened, tail dropping. “Sorry. I got caught up in the moment and said something careless.”

“As your benevolent upperclassman, I will overlook your transgression and accept your apology made in earnest.”

Jack gave a small smile. “So tell me more about your training. What kind of exercises do you do? What made you want to start?”

“I try to work a little of everything to ensure that my body is evenly toned. As for what motivated me to begin… I suppose you could say that I was, in your own words, looking for a ‘good, honest workout’.”

“But unlike me, you’re not in an athletic club. You don’t like P.E. class either. When you talked about it earlier, it didn’t sound like you enjoyed training. I don’t think you’d go out of your way to do it for fun.” Jack folded his arms and furrowed his brows. “If you only wanted to get stronger, wouldn’t it be easier for you to make a deal and take someone’s strength?”

“Is that truly what you think of me?” Azul frowned. “You miss the point. What use is it to steal what you desire most rather than earn it for yourself? Would I really be able to call those traits my own? There is no pride to be had in that.”

“You didn’t have an issue with it before winter break.”

“Well…” A complicated look clouded the birthday boy’s features. “I was a different person then. Those things don’t have the same value as they once did. They’ve depreciated.”

In spite of the coldness of his words—the pointed truth of them—there, too, was a soft sadness slipping past his lips. Acknowledgement, and painful sympathy.

Azul was looking at Jack, but not clearly seeing him. His eyes seemed to be trained on something else, someone else, far off in the distance.

A sad little boy curled up in a pot, clouds of inky black tears coloring the water.

“… I was a different person then,” Azul repeated, this time more firmly. “I endeavor to be someone worthy of admiration through my own efforts. If I can be satisfied with my abilities, then it will steer me from walking along that dark path again.

“Be it flying, strength, or luck of the draw… I have always been aware of those shortcomings, in life, but what good comes out of it were I to stop there? What good comes from wallowing in doubt? That is why I will make something for myself, and why I must find my own strength through honest effort.”

I will accept the past and use it to guide me to the future. The “me” I wasn’t able to accept then… Someday, I will become strong enough to embrace him.

Jack stared at him hard. “Are you being honest with me?”

Azul chuckled faintly. “Why wouldn’t I be? What would I hope to possibly gain by deceiving you about my personal ambitions?”

“Towards the end, it didn’t sound like you were…” Jack paused, cocking his head to one side. “Are you even still talking about your Overblot anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I was referring to that incident. What else would I be talking about?”

“You’re dodging the question again,” Jack sighed. “It’s good that you’re motivated to keep up that training though. With that kind of attitude, I’m sure you can reach the heights you’re dreaming of.”

“Urk! Must you phrase it like that?” He hurriedly glanced away, mumbling to himself under his breath. “And here I was, so carefully redirecting the conversation away from that!”

“Heh.” Jack allowed himself a smirk. “So even Azul-senpai has this kind of side to him, huh…”

“Wh-What side?!”

“You know, like a point of weakness. Vulnerable. Kind of squish—”

“AHHHH, DON’T SAY ITTTT!!” Azul pleaded, his volume and pitch spiking into a loud whine.

Jack deadpanned. “Yup. There it is, the squishiness.”

“A-Ahhhh… You went and said it anyway…” the birthday boy groaned, a hand to his forehead. He took a deep gulp of air and slowly exhaled. “… Excuse me, forget you heard that.”

“Why? Isn’t it good to be aware of your weaknesses? That way, you can find strength from them.”

Azul warily eyed him. “You’ve got some bite in you after all.”

“You keep me on my toes. Wouldn’t want you catching me off-guard someday.”

“My, I’m honored to hear that. I’ll have to work hard to keep up with that strong moral character of yours.”

“Good luck. You can work on that along with the muscles. Maybe I’ll see you at the gym or on the field sometime. Until then… show me what you’ve got.” Jack nodded at Azul’s broom.

“Hmph, very well. Prepare for me to deft your expectations, and bear witness to the fruits of my labor!!”

The merman mounted his broom, tensely straddling the handle between both legs. It was a posture he has practiced for hours on end—perfected and polished like a mirror, if not a little too stiff.

The moonlit air around him heated with magical energy, sparkles flickering among the flowers. Very slowly, his bouquet—and his feet—lifted from the ground.

And…

… Azul sluggishly chugged forward, only a few centimeters off of the ground.

“Uh… good job? … I think.” Jack searched for a compliment. “It definitely ‘defied’ my expectations like you said it would.”

Azul flushed.

“… N-Not a word of this to anyone, Jack-san!!” He sputtered back. “Solemnly swear to me that you will not share this with a single soul!!”

[zepskies]

And So It Goes - Part 18

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

Word Count: 5,600

Tags/Warnings: Love triangle, tension, more of Ben’s asshole behavior, angst, hurt/comfort, implied smut

ASIG Series Masterlist

18: Being Human

Maybe I really do have a death wish, Helena thought, as she let the most wanted supe alive into her home.

Butcher and Hughie joined him, with the latter taking in her two-story house for the first time.

“Nice,” Hughie said with a nod. “This place is beautiful.”

Helena gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Though she gave Ben a pointed look. “Try not to break it, please.”

He shot her a raised brow, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched her turn and show them one of the guest bedrooms on the first floor. Meanwhile, his gaze lingered on the curve of her ass in those jeans.

Butcher caught the supe’s lazy perusal with a sharp eye. Ben felt his stare and had the gall to shoot him a wink with his smile. Ben’s steps had a certain swagger as he followed Helena down the hall.

It succeeded in setting Butcher even more on edge.

Hughie glanced over at his friend with concern; he’d seen the exchange between the men and didn’t like the fact that Helena was caught in the middle. More and more, he was starting to question just what the hell they were doing.

“Are you sure about this?” Hughie asked.

Butcher didn’t even look at him. His ears were perked to the conversation Soldier Boy and Helena were having down the hall, about fresh bedsheets, of all things.

“There’s no turning back now,” Butcher said.

Hughie frowned. “I know, but…”

Butcher ignored him in favor of starting down the hall to follow Helena and the unstable supe he’d brought into her home.

After everyone had showered and changed and devoured a few pizzas Helena had ordered, Ben puttered through her living room, rummaging through her things. He opened drawers and surveyed her various picture frames, like he was actually interested in her life or something.

“Got any reefer?” he asked.

Helena rolled her eyes. There goes that theory.

Not that she wanted his interest.

“Fresh out,” she said wryly.

She watched him from her corner of the sofa while Hughie graciously did the dishes. Butcher was sitting at the breakfast nook with a cup of tea.

Helena knew he was monitoring the supe out of the corner of his eye, but she was now very careful in what she left on the TV. She didn’t think Dumb and Dumber should have anything triggering.

She eyed him more sharply when Ben started thumbing through her record collection.

“Hey, easy with my vinyl, please,” she said. “It’s vintage.”

He raised up one of your favorites: I Wanna Dance with Somebody.

“Sweetheart, I’m vintage. I think Whitney Houstonis safe with me,” he quipped wryly.

She rolled her eyes at him, but she had to fight a laugh. 

“I knew her, by the way,” he mentioned. 

Helena’s interest was piqued, with a tilt of her head. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Her and Bobby knew how the fuck to get down. That’s for damn sure.”

“Oh my God,” Helena giggled.

Butcher couldn’t fucking believe what was happening in front of him.

Well, technically, behind him. He was facing the kitchen, and it gave Hughie the vantage point to see Butcher’s irritation.

Helena was more amused than disgusted by the man’s ridiculous flirting. He was an old, old man in that 40s-ish, practically indestructible body. He was like a man out of time, complete with outdated sexism and hyper-machismo. His attempts were often so obvious, it was funny.

But, she also felt guilty for being able to laugh and be pleasant, when this was a man who had killed, and not just during his PTSD-fueled episodes over the past few days. This was the man who murdered M.M.’s grandfather.

The problem was, she had long ago become desensitized to asshole supes. And she couldn’t help her gut instinct…that there was more to Ben than met the eye.

Helena called it a night an hour or so later, when her eyes were starting to droop. She’d slept for a couple of hours in the car, but there was nothing like being back in her safe space, in fresh clothes, and soon to be in her own bed.

A knock at her bedroom door had her frowning in confusion. She put on a robe over her pajamas and opened the door. Her brows raised at finding Butcher there.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was deep and tired, full of gravel. He tried to slip past her inside the room, but she grabbed the doorjamb, blocking his way. She gave him a flat look.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked. He gestured to the bed with raised brows.

“To sleep. I’m fucking knackered, love.”

Helena’s lips formed a thin smile.

“There’s a guest bedroom down the hall,” she said. For a moment, they just stared at one another, as one refused to leave, and the other refused to bend.

“Hel,” Butcher tried.

“You ended this,” she said, pushing him back with a hand in the center of his chest.

“Technically, that was you,” he returned. He backed up a step, but wouldn’t let her move him much farther. 

This time, her lips pursed and her expression tightened.

“You know what you said, Billy,” she said. “And you know what you did. You still don’t even have the decency to apologize.”

She stepped closer into his orbit, until her breasts barely brushed against his chest. He could feel the warmth of her skin under the thin cotton of her shirt, could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She leaned up on her toes and almost brushed her lips against his. She smelled minty fresh, along with the jasmine shampoo she often used.

“You…don’t get any part of this,” she said. “And you certainly don’t get to make some kind of claim on me just because you’re jealous.”

Helena pulled away. Butcher didn’t know what was more infuriating: not being able to touch her, or the deadly accuracy of her words.

“Jealous?” he said incredulously. “Of fucking what, might I ask?”

Instead of answering him, she smiled and closed her door in his face.

Butcher was left in the hall, teeth gritted and fists clenched. What the bloody hell just happened?

When he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he trudged down the hall and into the second bedroom, where Hughie was already slipping into the queen-sized bed. Butcher yanked him out of bed, despite the younger man’s yelp and protest.

“Hey!”

“There’s a couch nice and comfy there for ya,” Butcher said, gesturing at the nearby sofa. It was little more than a loveseat. If Hughie was lucky, it would only be his legs hanging off the side.

He frowned. “Come on, man.”

Butcher shrugged off his jacket and boots, tossing them on a nearby accent chair.

“You can try your luck bunking with Soldier Boy downstairs, but that might be ill-advised,” he retorted.

And he got into bed, turning out the bedside lamp as he went.

Helena slept for maybe a couple of hours before her eyes opened in the dark, her heart racing. She groaned and covered her face with a hand.

She still saw flashes of manic blue eyes in her mind, a hand wrapped around her throat. She felt throbbing pain radiating from the side of her head and half her ribcage.

It forced her out of bed in search of her medication, which Butcher had somehow gotten for her without a prescription. She chose to ignore that fact, and she grabbed her pill bottle, put on her favorite robe over her pajamas, and ventured downstairs for a glass of water.

When she turned on the kitchen light, her bleary eyes made out a shape sitting at the breakfast nook.

She jumped halfway out of her skin, until she realized that it was just Ben, sitting there with two cartons of Mint Milano cookies and three empty beers from her fridge. He raised his brows at her.

“Evening, sweetheart,” he said, smirking when he eyed her fuzzy purple robe. “Cute.”

“Down, boy,” she warned. She laid a quivering hand on her chest and caught her breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She retrieved the jug of water from the fridge and asked him if he wanted some. He shook his head, leaving her to consider him as she poured herself a glass of water. She saw the familiar threads of self-medicating with the empty beer bottles.

“I can make you some tea,” she offered.

Ben frowned. “Piss water, you mean? I’ll pass.”

Helena rolled her eyes. She got out the chamomile anyway and started up the kettle. It was an electric brewer, so the water would be hot within minutes.

“It could help you sleep better,” she pointed out. She felt his hot gaze on her back as she went about her business in the kitchen. She set up two mugs and took out the bottle of honey.

“One of two things helps me sleep,” said Ben. “Good drugs or a good fuck.”

Helena paused. Her hand clenched on the honey bottle on reflex, and made a large spurt squeeze out in one of the mugs. She eyed him tartly over her shoulder.

“You’ll find neither in this house,” she said. Her tone was pointed. His sly gaze said he wasn’t too sure about that.

“What’s keeping you up?” she asked, and she put a cup of tea in front of him with honey already stirred in. He gave her a flat look.

“I don’t drink that shit,” he said. She smiled.

“But I made it especially for you,” she replied, saccharine sweet. “I thought guys like you were supposed to be chivalrous.”

Ben just stared at her, hard.

She stared at him right back and raised her brows.

“Just try it,” she cajoled. “You might like it.”

He still didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, he slowly reached out and took the handle of the mug. He brought it to his lips and took a reluctant sip.

He grimaced. It was everything he thought it would be: weak in flavor, but warm and a hint sweet.

Helena smiled in satisfaction, and he fought one of amusement, even as he considered how sweet she might be to taste.

She went to get her own mug and her bottle of pain meds. While her back was turned, Ben poured most of the tea into the sink.

“Why’re you in my kitchen, eating all my cookies?” she asked, glancing back at him over her shoulder while holding up one of the empty boxes of Milanos. “These are my favorites.”

Ben’s gaze roamed down the length of her fuzzy robe. It hinted at curves he’d already seen and taken note of. She was the hottest young thing he’d seen in…well, a while. Still, he’d be willing to eat up Miss Chiquita Banana and leave no crumbs.

“I’ve slept long enough,” he said. She turned back around, and he tried to disguise his hunger (for now). 

Helena glanced up at him wryly. “Hmm. You’re allowed to say you can’t sleep.”

Ben didn’t answer, but he watched her struggle to open her pill bottle. She twisted and twisted the cap, applying pressure, but it refused to budge.

“Damn it. What, did they reinforce this with, titanium?” she muttered.

The pill bottle eventually broke free, raining little white pills onto the counter. A few of them rolled off to the floor.

Her shoulders deflated. “Of fucking course.”

With a sigh, she slowly bent down and gathered up the pills that fell. She grabbed onto the counter, but the sharpening pain in her ribs wouldn’t let her straighten up, let alone get back onto her feet. She looked up at Ben in annoyance. He was just sitting there, watching her in bemusement.

“Coño pero… Are you gonna help me, Mr. Chivalry?” she snarked. “Best generation, indeed.”

Ben raised a brow at her. “I might, if you ask a little fucking nicer.”

Helena gaped at him. What a dick.

But she expected nothing less, really. She let out a tense breath through her nose and through much effort, she angled a less pissed off face at him.

“Will you please give me hand off the damn floor?” she asked.

A smirk crossed his lips. He actually obliged her, sliding off his seat and coming her way around the kitchen counter. He bent down and helped her up with a hand on her lower back and her elbow. He didn’t back away from her until her feet were steady on the ground, and she nodded in thanks. He took a few pills out of her hand as payment, popping them into his mouth like Tic Tacs.

Helena sighed in annoyance. Unlike him, she actually needed those.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I could blame it on the pain,” she replied, after downing two pills with her water. “But um…I keep replaying yesterday in my head, over and over like a bad movie. It always stops at the part where I look up at Homelander’s psychotic fucking eyes, and I just…I knew.”

Helena shook her head. Ben’s lips tugged downward.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“I’m officially on his hit list now,” she said. 

She knew it was partly her own fault. She chose to follow Butcher, to keep making reckless decisions. But at least now she wouldn’t have to spend every damn second of every day looking over her shoulder. She could just turn around and accept whatever happened next.

Helena could admit it though. She was afraid.

“What’s it like, not being afraid?” she asked Ben, with a small sarcastic huff. His brow arched.

“When you’ve routinely pounded Nazis up the ass, nothing much bothers you after that,” he said, sipping at his mug of tea. Though he soon grimaced again at the taste and pushed the offending drink away.

Deep inside, however, he refused to acknowledge the darker chasms. Stolen years that were now blurred together in memory, and yet, certain moments rang painfully clear. His eyes were unseeing for a moment, before they glanced back up at Helena.

He nearly missed the way she chuckled.

“That shit isn’t fooling for a second,” she said. “I saw you lose your grip, Ben.”

His gaze sharpened. His fist clenched on the counter.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he warned.

Her eyes narrowed. “Let me ask you a question. Do you really not remember M.M.’s family? Or was that routine for you too?”

He paused, his brows crunched in irritation.

“I don’t have to fucking justify myself to you. I was doing my fucking job. Sometimes—”

“What, shit happens?” She threw her hands up mockingly. “God, you’re just like Homelander. Like almost every supe I’ve ever met.”

He rolled his eyes, dismissive, but his anger was prickling just under the surface of his stoic front.

And on the off chance that it was a mask for any spark of shame he felt deep down, Helena was at least a little satisfied. For 100-something years of machismo and supe arrogance, that spark would’ve been well-won. 

“Regret is human, Ben,” she said. “So is fear. And pain. And love.”

His face remained stoic. “I’m a lot fucking more than human.”

She huffed at that. “If you say so.”

She shook her head and delved back into her pantry. As a peace offering, she broke out her secret backup stash of cookies, that she doubted even Butcher knew about. They were raspberry and milk chocolate Milanos. She subtly shook the box at Ben with a smile.

He tilted his head. “I don’t remember that flavor.”

“Ooh. Brace yourself,” said Helena. She dug out the first two sleeves of cookies and gave him one.  

“How come there’s five in yours?” he asked with a frown. There were only four cookies in his sleeve. 

“The Lord giveth, and he taketh away,” she joked. “I get the bonus cookie.”

Ben gave her a deadpan look, but he ate in silence. He looked all surly, and she had to hold in a laugh. What a man-child.

Instead, she tossed her extra cookie at him. He raised a hand to instinctively fend off a projectile.

“Hey,” he said, with his mouth full.

Helena ended up giggling at the sight of crumbs falling from his mouth and in his beard. Again, man-child.

She wanted to hate him.

She should hate him, on principle alone.

Perhaps she had a weakness for deeply flawed men with massive egos. But fleeting as they were, she saw the glimpses of humanity in Ben—rare moments that got swallowed up by Soldier Boy.

In the morning, Butcher aimed to work on the list of safehouses where one of his most paranoid of ex-teammates, Mindstorm, could be hiding out. This next one was a few hours north. He’d be gone for the day, at least.

He was forced to leave Helena and Hughie behind, but not without a warning for the latter. Butcher had pulled Hughie aside and let him know that he wasn’t to leave her alone with Soldier Boy again, under any circumstances. Hughie didn’t have to ask “or what.”

Butcher was gone early in the morning. It allowed Helena and Ben to make their way into the kitchen slower in the morning. She was dressed for the day with her coffee mug in hand, sitting at the breakfast nook while Hughie caught up on the news from her laptop in the living room.

Ben grabbed a cup of coffee and took a seat next to her.

“What do you say you get started on breakfast. Huh, baby doll?” he asked. Or more like demanded, by his actual tone.

Helena shot him a dry look. “There’s cereal in the pantry.”

“Come on, now. I could use a home cooked meal,” he said.

Her brow twitched in irritation.

“It might be nice, since I have cracked ribs at the moment, if you might make yourself something,” Helena replied.

Ben gave her a smirk as he eyed her. “Why would I do that when you look like a perfectly good cook.”

“Oh, I am,” she said. “But I’m neither your servant nor your maid.”

“You’ve got two working hands, don’t you?” Ben remarked, as he sipped his coffee. “God fucking knows you’ve got a working mouth.”

Helena seethed as she got up from her chair, but not to make anyone a damn thing. She went to the sink to dump her empty coffee mug. She turned back to Ben and opened her mouth to say something she would very likely regret, but Hughie interjected, perhaps seeing that an explosion was about to happen.

“Uh, why don’t I make us something?” he said, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen with Helena. “I can whip us up some scrambled eggs. Bacon, if you’ve got it. Ooh, looks like you’ve got bread to make toast.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Knock yourself out.”

She ate her eggs on the couch in simmering silence while the news played on the TV. Hughie sat with her, casting her a look of concern every now and then. She ignored it all, including Ben’s less than discreet grumpy staring.  

Apparently, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“I swear to Christ. What the fuck is wrong with women today?” he said.

What a good start, Helena thought sarcastically.

“My mom never kept my father waiting for a meal. Even when he came home at whatever goddamn hour of the night, she had a plate waiting for him,” he said.

Helena rolled her eyes and quipped dryly, “That plate must’ve been cold as hell.”

Ben eyed her as she got up from the couch and went to bring her plate to the sink. She had her back to him as she began to rinse the dishes and put them into the sink.

“When did women get so fucking lazy? And disrespectful,” he remarked.

Helena hit the lever on the sink closed to turn off the faucet. She turned around to face the man and crossed her arms.

“You want a fuckable maid, pay extra,” she said. “But if you want a partner you can rely on. Someone you can trust not to give you to the damn Russians, then you share the load. And you respect the woman who lets you into her bed.”

She turned back to the dishes so she wouldn’t have to look at Ben’s angry, brooding face. But the way she turned her back on him, along with her pointed words, irritated enough to spark his anger. He got up from his seat.

Hughie sensed the danger before Helena did. He stood and made a cautious approach to the kitchen.

Helena reached for a hand towel, and found her wrist encased with an iron grip. She gasped as Ben turned her to face him.

“I’ve put up with a lot from you,” he said. “I think I’ve been a gentleman, considering what a disrespectful little brat you are. But I really think you wanna get bent over my knee.”

His face told her that she wouldn’t enjoy it.

“Hey,” Hughie tried to intervene. “Let’s just calm down, all right?”

Helena let out a shaky breath, but she looked up at Ben and somehow managed to hold her ground, despite the iron grip on her arms.

“If it makes you feel better, go ahead,” she said. “Slap me around until I break.”

“Soldier Boy!” Hughie said in warning.

Ben ignored him. He stared down at Helena with cold anger in his eyes. His hold on her arms tightened, and it hurt. She failed to stifle a gasp of pain.

But she stared up at him defiantly, even though there were tears forming in her eyes.

“You want me to respect you? You killed my friend’s family, and you don’t even care,” she said. “I don’t see anything here that earns my respect.”

Ben reacted to her words, mostly with anger as his brows furrowed.

Hughie grabbed the supe’s shoulder. “Hey, man, just let her go!”

Ben shoved Hughie away so hard that it made the younger man slide across the kitchen and into the far wall, until he hit a bookshelf and fell to the ground.

Helena flinched in shock, and pain at the way he was still holding her. Ben saw it play across her face…and he let her go abruptly. He stared down at her for a moment, nostrils flaring with his heavier breathing. She tried to calm her own breathing as she met his gaze, wondering what he would do. Wondering if this was the moment she’d signed her own death warrant by being her smartass self.

But Ben walked away from her.

Well, stalked away, more like. He left through the front door and it swung open on its hinges.

Helena took in deep breathes of relief. Eventually she gathered enough of her wits to go to Hughie, who was still picking himself off the floor.  

“I gotta go after him,” he said with a sigh.

“Get that man away from my house. I don’t care where you take him,” Helena said, frowning tersely. Hughie couldn’t blame her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and touched her arm gently. She pulled away from his touch and held herself with crossed arms.

“I’m fine. Just go get him,” she replied.

He nodded and took off after Soldier Boy. It gave Helena the reprieve she needed to let out a long, tremulous breath. A tear fell down her cheek as she leaned on the kitchen counter.

She just couldn’t help taking her life into her hands.

Butcher returned to Helena’s house in the evening. Her car was still in the driveway, but when he let himself in with the spare key she’d given him, he realized that the house was empty, except for her.

She was washing dishes from a dinner she’d clearly made for just herself: a Lean Cuisine.

“Where the hell are Hughie and Soldier Boy?” he asked, approaching where she stood in the kitchen, dressed down in a long-sleeved shirt and yoga pants.

“I couldn’t give a fuck,” she said. “Hello to you too, by the way.”

Her voice had little energy in it, save for anger and sarcasm, and Butcher took notice. He frowned.

“You’re the one who brought ‘em here. Weren’t my fucking idea, remember?” he snarked back.

Helena finally gave up on the dishes and turned to him with angry tears in her eyes.

“But you’re the one who made it happen, Billy. You wanted to cut a deal with that ancient, unstable fucking asshole? Well, you got your damn wish,” she said. “You are the reason we’re in this mess.”

Butcher paused at the sight of her unshed tears. His jaw worked as he tried to make sense of why she was this upset, when just yesterday she was joking and laughing with the supe like he was the guest of honor.

His brows drew together. “What did he do?”

Helena refused to answer.

Butcher went to her and tried to grasp her arm, but she pulled away from him with a flinch. Her eyes flicked away from his.

Unbidden, it reminded him of the day he waited for her at her apartment. And she’d come home after work looking skittish and drained. She’d flinched away from his touch then, just like she’d done now. That had been the day Homelander nearly strangled her to death.

“What the fuck did he do, Helena?” Butcher repeated. She met his gaze. 

“You better find him,” she said, “before he blows up another damn building.”

Butcher stared hard at her, but she wouldn’t say anything more.

He fished out his cell and called Hughie, who told him that he’d brought Soldier Boy to the Legend’s penthouse apartment in the city.

“Good,” Butcher nodded. “Keep him settled there while I look for Mindstorm.”

He glanced at Helena, but she was already walking away from him to finish cleaning up her kitchen.

Butcher ended his call. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ve gotta go,” was what he settled on.

She shrugged. Butcher nearly sighed. He went to her though, while she was wiping down the counter with a clean rag. His hand reached out to touch her back, but at the last moment, he thought better of it. His arm drifted back to his side.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly.

“Like you care,” she said. Her tone was one of both snark and exhaustion. “Just go.”

Reluctantly, he went.

Helena was angry, to say the least—at Butcher, at Soldier Boy, and even at Hughie. She was also angry at herself for not having been able to leave well enough alone when Butcher left the first time.

Which first time? She snorted.

But she was especially mad at herself when she allowed the three men to traipse back into her home, a week later.

“‘Ullo, love,” Butcher greeted at her door.

They were covered with dried sweat and dirt, like they’d been hiking. She only let them in because of how they looked—each a bit rattled by whatever they’d faced. Her house was safer than the Legend’s at this point, Butcher explained.

“Just one night,” he asked. “We’ll fuck off in the morning.”

“Fine,” she agreed, despite her better judgment. Again, it was that look in his eyes. Unsteady.

Ben gave her a predictable once-over of her pajama shorts and tank-top, but it seemed he didn’t have it in him to volley with her like usual, especially after what happened last time. He didn’t acknowledge that as he made his way to one of the guest rooms.

Helena followed Hughie and Butcher upstairs…but something made her grab Butcher and steer him away from the second guest bedroom.

He wasn’t sure what she was doing while she guided him into the bathroom in her room. There he leaned against the counter of the bathroom sink. She picked the twigs out of his hair and brushed the dried mud from his shirt.

“Did you take a dirt nap or something?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he replied.

“What the hell happened then?”

He looked down at her. “Mindstorm is dead.”

She sighed at that, but something else was there, behind his eyes. Just under the surface.

“And what else?” Helena asked.

Butcher remained quiet, hesitating. She slowly took a chance by reaching for his scarred hand. She held it with both of hers.

He couldn’t help himself. He brushed his thumb over the back of her warm, tan, smooth hand, reminding himself that she was real and alive. And he wasn’t locked in his mind.

“When I left for the SAS,” he said, “I left my little brother behind…with our raging cunt of a father.”

Helena inhaled deeply; she remembered what Butcher had told her about Lenny, about how he died young. But somehow, Butcher had left out this detail. He met her gaze with tears forming in his red-rimmed eyes.

“I shouldn’t have left him,” he confessed.

Helena was half in shock as she watched the first tear roll down his cheek. She realized then that she had never seen the true depths of this man. Not until tonight.

Her eyes burned with sympathetic emotion as she reached for him and pull him into her arms. He held her back, burying his face in her neck and grounding himself in her as his body shook. Those brutal memories, along with the grief that had been locked deep inside had loosened, and the doors were now swinging open on their hinges.

“Jesus Christ, Helena…I’m sorry,” he said. His voice wavered, and his hand clenched in her hair. “For what I keep doing to ya. Dragging you down with me with every goddamn step.” 

He pulled back enough to see her, to be faced with her tears as she bit her lip.

“And for what I said…to you, and to the kid. I’m fucking sorry,” he said.

Helena broke down just as much as he did then. She nodded in acceptance, and she held his face in her hands. Then she brought him down for a tender kiss. Butcher gave into the soft warmth of her as he held her against him, unwilling to let go this time.

And she led him back into her bed.

In the late hours of the night, Butcher returned to Helena’s bed after a shower. She was already fast asleep. He slid in behind her, gently caressing the back of his hand up her naked back and over her shoulder, down her arm…

And he saw it. A purplish, yellow band around her arm.

It looked like a bruise, formed by a large hand. A man’s hand.

Butcher was damn certain it wasn’t his own, and he’d just finished tracing all the contours of her body tonight.

Though he was reminded of what happened a few days ago…

His brows drew together. “What did he do?”

Helena refused to answer.

Butcher went to her and tried to grasp her arm, but she pulled away from him with a flinch. Her eyes flicked away from his.

Soldier Boy. That old cunt.

Rage built and built inside him. That unfathomable rage that so often fostered lethal energy in Butcher’s blood.

Carefully he slipped out of bed. He got as far as the doorway before he looked back at Helena. He focused on her easy breathing, her messy dark hair splayed on her pillow.

The rage he felt began to simmer down, bit by bit, into self-loathing. Because he did this.

She’d been right before. Butcher made the deal with Soldier Boy. And Butcher brought this shitshow into her home.

So he forced himself to join her back in bed. He traced down the back of her neck, down the length of her lotus tattoo. It made her shiver in her sleep.

Butcher had failed his brother, and Becca. But he couldn’t fail this time. He’d keep Helena and Hughie safe, and alive.

Butcher’s phone was on silent, but the light from his phone on the nightstand illuminated the dark room and stole his attention. He grabbed it and frowned at the strange number on the caller ID. He took the phone into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Hello?” he answered.

“I need to talk to Hughie. Where is he?” Annie asked.

“Oh, Starlight. How delightful,” he muttered. And then he lied.“He’s just popped out for a bit.”

“Okay, well he’s not answering his phone.”

“Bit hard to keep a phone when you’re teleporting all day, innit, love? How can I help?”

“Temp V is going to kill you both,” she said.

“Well, it’s gonna have to join the queue,” he quipped.

“I was just in the lab. It causes lesions, okay? It turns your brain into fucking Swiss cheese!” she shouted. “So please be honest with me, and tell me how many doses have you taken?”

Butcher hesitated at that. His stomach began to churn.

“Just a couple,” he replied. Or a few.

“Jesus Christ,” she said. “Butcher, five to six doses kills you. Got that? You need to tell Hughie.”

Butcher hesitated. “Yeah…yeah, I will. I promise.”

“Okay, but I’m calling every five minutes until—”

He hung up on her. All the while, his mind was reeling.

Fuck, he thought. Fatal after five doses. He’d already had three. Hughie’d had two.

And they needed more, if they were going to face Homelander and Black Noir.

“Scorched earth” was going to come at a price. Butcher had known that going into this, but it suddenly took on new meaning as he opened the bathroom door and looked over at Helena, peacefully sleeping in bed. 

Butcher thought of Ryan, and all of his broken promises.

But come the morning, Butcher didn’t tell anyone of what he’d learned.

AN: Oooh, we're getting so close to the end here, folks!

Next Time:

“Why are you being so fucking stubborn?” Butcher asked.

Her head tilted as she gave a wry smile. “What do you mean?”

His grip on her waist tightened a little.

“Why’re you staying with me?” he pressed. “Hel, you know where this ends.”

“Billy, I don’t have a death wish,” she told him. She squeezed his arms back. “But I don’t just want you alive for me. Ryan needs you too.”

Keep Reading: Part 19

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Tag List:

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[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Another boring night in Bakersfield, but Jake makes it a lot more interesting.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Photo Flirt 

You wake up the next morning with that slight disorientation that comes with business travel.  You'll be in meetings all day so you sneak in a quick workout in before you have to drive over to the hangar where today's debrief is going to take place.  The hours-long meeting goes as expected and the group determines that the heat shielding was the failure point.  Something you had expected all along. Tomorrow when you get back to the office you'll write up a summary report to get over to the materials research department to see what they can come up with for the next prototype.

Tonight, you joined your coworkers for drinks and dinner at some local sports bar. There is nothing more depressing than a crowd of business people drinking oversized fruity drinks at a Chili's off the freeway on a Tuesday evening, so you're glad for the local choice.  Dinner and drinks are pleasant enough.  You talk about the Padres game and you get to brag about catching a foul ball.  Near the end of dinner your phone buzzes in your pocket and it's a text from Jake.  

Jake: What's up?  

You: Just finishing dinner, can I call you in an hour when I get back to the hotel?

Jake: Sounds good.  P.S. wear something sexy.  

The next message is just a picture of the very familiar pattern of your black lace boy shorts.  The memory of Jake stuffing them into his pocket the other night flashes in your mind along with a brief flush on your  face.  That cheeky bastard, two can play at this game.  

You settle up your bill and say goodbye to your coworkers. Most everyone will meet up in the San Diego office on Thursday to discuss next steps.  

You get back to your hotel just as the sun is starting to set.  Pulling the sheer curtains closed for a nice background you figure out the angle that you can place your  phone on the desk to get the shot I'm aiming for.  You want a silhouette of yourself backlit with the setting sun filtered to send to Jake.  Nothing identifying, but still sexy as hell.  It takes you about 10 tries to get the shot you want. The picture is a silhouette showing the distinct profile of your ass and breasts. Rifling through your overnight bag you search through the clothes to see what could qualify as sexy.  A white lace bra and a pair of simple white cotton underwear with lace trim catch your eye.  That'll do, you think, classic and a little innocent.

You send the picture and get relaxed on your bed and wait for Jake's reaction.  It's less than five minutes before your phone rings.

You answer, "Hello, Jake."

"Are you trying to kill me? You're all the way up there in BFE and I'm down here in this lousy house," he replies, in a half whine.

"I'm not the one who sent me a picture of your  underwear while I was at dinner with coworkers," you remind him, teasing him.

"Bad or good timing? I bet you got out of there as fast as you could."

"Only because you needed some teasing back.  You said, ‘dress sexy’, so what are you wearing?"

"Dog tags." 

"That all?"

"Well, I am holding a certain pair of someone's underwear if you want to count that as clothing."

The image of Jake stretched out on his bed, miles of golden skin, and hard muscles with just his dog tags nestled between his pecs is instantly conjured up in your mind. In this mental tableau he is twirling your  underwear around his index finger on the hand that isn't holding the phone to his ear.  

"My turn now, what are you wearing, Ms. Matthews?"

"Not much, a white lace bra and some white bikini underwear with lace trim."

"Sounds like you're trying to play the innocent."

"Maybe I am, what are you going to do about it?"

You are starting to massage your breast through the lacy cup and squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, the ache already starting to build in your core.

Jake laughs at the challenge, 

"Well, if I were there I would start by kissing you so hard I'd leave you breathless." 

Your fingers go up to your  lips and press them wishing it was Jake's lips.  

"Next I work my way down your neck with my lips and tongue and just skim the tops of your tits peeking out of your bra. I want to tease you right now and make you want me inside you so bad." 

Your hand traces his path as he talks down your neck and across the swell of your breasts.  

"Next I'd slide your bra straps down your arms and pull down your bra to reveal those amazing tits," he purrs, a light hitch in his speech, you know he is touching himself right now.  

"I'd suck on your nipples and maybe use a little bit of teeth to get you really worked up." 

You pinch your nipples hard enough in response that you moan into the phone.  

The smile on Jake's face is audible through the phone.  

"Getting a little antsy, El?" he teases.

The way he gives you a nickname makes your chest flutter.  

"I'm just following your lead, dear," you breathily answer back. 

Another hitch in his breathing tells me that he is getting into this.  You imagine him fisting himself in slow languid strokes and you can feel yourself get wetter.

"Where do you go next, Jake?" 

"At this point I'm so hard I could cut glass, it's taking everything I have to not just rip your underwear and plunge in." 

His breath starts to quicken, 

"But ever the gentleman, I pull those little innocent white panties down and dive in with my tongue." 

The memory of his talented tongue sends your hand diving into your underwear and you begin furiously rub your clit, moaning indecently and breathing heavily into the phone.  

"I want to make sure you're nice and wet when you take my cock inside you. Oh baby, I've got your panties here and god do they smell good."

You're imagining Jake has draped your stolen underwear over his nose as he pumps his cock in fast strokes to smell your  arousal from the other night.  

"Oh God, I want you inside me right now,"

you moan into the phone, your moans are getting a little louder and breaths are getting shorter.

"Jake, I'm so close, so close," you whine. 

His voice is strained when he replies, 

"Me too baby, me too. Come for me Elsa, let me hear you come." 

It is his voice that finally pushes you over the edge, a strangled cry from you as your orgasm washes over you. Moans emit from the phone speaker as Jake comes on the other end of the line. The next few moments are filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and your mutual returns back to earth.  Jake speaks first, 

"God damn you are so sexy. I can't wait to see you in person now." 

"I'm back tomorrow late afternoon."   

"Good," he practically purrs.

"Think of something and we'll connect tomorrow when I get on the road.  Good night, Jake.  Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams, babe, I'll see you tomorrow."

You fling off the remaining clothing and throw it toward your  overnight bag, deciding to sleep naked to cool your overheated skin. Sleep comes quickly with visions of a certain blonde pilot in your mind.

The next morning, you wake up and find a message from Jake on your  phone.

Jake: How about I come over and cook you dinner?  You're probably wanting some home cooked food.

You: That sounds amazing.  I'm hoping to leave here by 1 pm.  Why don't you head over to my house when you're done for the day and get started.  There's a lock box in the garden shed with an extra key.  The code is 1903.

Jake: Sounds good, do you like Italian?

Jake: 1903…the year the Orville Brothers took flight?  That's your secret code? You delightful airplane nerd.

You: You'd be good at bar trivia.  See you later.  

Chapter 9

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

[kenjiyabuki]

DMD FTR: finale thoughts

i forgot to put this out because i've been in the process of being an employed adult human person these days, unfortunately (no one who saw my previous DMD FTR posts is surprised that i was unemployed). now i wont even get to have my weekly crisply shot and edited hang outs w Gen 3 besties while this new job is sucking my soul... but this was a pleasant finale to this sweet and chill and incredibly unsurprising show!

here's the thing: i dont even know who Domundi is trying to fool w this double win stuff cause they did literally announce the new gen would be acting in TWO (2) new series during their 2023 Line Up event???????

so the double win wasn't a surprise AT ALL but it's okay, it didnt really diminish my enjoyment out of the show at all. i wanted both couples to have series anyway!

as i've said in my first post about this show, it has been very obvious that this shows' intention isn't to be a competition, it's more of a new gen "inauguration". they could've just put the boys through bunch of workshops and let them choose partners off camera too but they chose to put money and time in to make it a whole show, so people could witness their journey and premature fan clubs would form and develop. i think its fun and clever marketing but did it work???

well, the boys def have more fans now BUT on the same day this episode was premiering, some ZNN fans were crying about their faves (who just had a movie come out, also filming a show rn AND scheduled to film another one after) being slighted by the company and they didn't need to "add more". like i said, i don't really follow Domundi closely, if the fans are right about artist management i might not know... but their Gen 2 was extremely successful after all and people are BEGGING for more series, so it's not a bad move for a company to want to grow. i wish fans would be more mature and learn more the industry the person they "stan" works in! why would a growing company would just make shows w 2 actors over and over man, cmon 😭

okay now that i got that out of me, back to the finale. some notes about the general:

the group performance of the theme song was a bit cringe to me bc i just hate that kind of music. but everyone's ending fairies were really cuteeeee so i forgive them

real winners of the episode is the background dancers because they literally did all the performances and acted too, very well!!

Domundi members and variety of industry people in the audience was sweet to see and added valuable comments/advice for the boys. i was especially happy to see Jimmy and Tommy, whom i ADORE!!!!

i was laughing at that LOUD ASS clapping and hollering track they kept playing to add some more noise to the audience's. like i know why they did it but how much that big sound didn't match w that small crowd just tickled me..

well, yeah, i cant get into idol-ing stuff personally so i was kind of bored during the solo performances. i dont really have comments that hasn't already been said by the judges. i thought all the boys did what they were supposed to do and showcased their talents, EXCEPT Latte........ my dude, what happened? i think he could've lip sync to the song, which IS a skill (Rupaul's Drag Race battles and just drag performances in general as evidence...) that would add a lot to his performance.

Firstone leaving the competition w Best Friendship & Best Performance Awards in his pocket and two guys wanting to be his partner. What a little star... Deserved and love his cocky attitude.

about couple jukebox musicals:

in my last episode commentary, i joked about Mandee getting inspired from my ideas but then they actually kinda happened lol🧐🧐🧐🧐 ThomasKong's performance was a coming of age, young love story while KengNamping's story was more complex romance w an angsty core, almost exactly like i wished for.

all in all, KengNamping's performance grabbed my attention the most. mostly because their acting & chemistry seemed improved to me (that kiss fake out at the end, what the hell??? you guys couldn't hold an eye contact couple eps ago...) AND their storyline just ATEEEE. i dont know who came up w the forbidden romance between kinda out of touch but well meaning rich boy & his "i suffer through love quietly" village boy bodyguard, w humour sprinkled in, but they need to get their ass eaten regularly...

ThomasKong don't even need to try that hard, they are just natural born charmers!!!! i liked their friends to lovers, nerdy guy cant believe popular one' love bc he doesnt see his value storyline (Thomas could've busted out One Direction's "What Makes You Beautiful"). With the romantic prom climax, it reminded me of American high school movies and fit their vibes perfectly. i wish it was more humorous, because i think comedy is one of their strong suits. like how did it ended up that shy kings KengNamping got more laughs than ThomasKong, the goofballs themselves??? whoever is writing their series, please take notes, now that i know you are reading these...

after the glorious double win and the cute four-way hug, Aof said that two shows would be announced this year which clearly meant that most we are getting this year are pilot trailers. which is fine. not easy to be patient but i get that they are a smaller company w lots on their plates already. i hope they will use that time to work and work and work on the shows!!!!

i honestly want Domundi to kind of change up things in their filmmaking/producing styles, maybe switch directors sometimes and try diffferent styles idk... this show and Gen 3 in general felt very refreshing and i hope they keep that vibe going! and maybe i will finally watch a Domundi show till the last episode.

P.S.: Extra clips were released this week and KengNamping's was sweet. i was kinda laughing at how much of a set up it was like, them conveniently sharing a blanket, all mic'd up, getting filmed w lights on etc. but their conversation and mood in the moment seemed sincere, which is enough. it was nice to see the context for ep 5, when they found each other at the other end of the red ribbon and said that so much happened on that bridge. what a perfect circle moment, from comforting each other about not winning a challenge to winning the show!

[fanartandfanfiction]

A short and somewhat spicy one shot featuring Ominis and an OC named Summer entitled “Fire and Gasoline” (18+)

“HEY!” Summer stomped after Ominis. “I get that you don’t like that Sebastian showed me your secret clubhouse, but you’re acting like a dick!”

Ominis had been attempting to leave the undercroft once he’d discovered Summer there. He wheeled around to face her. “What?!”

“I said you’re acting like a DICK!”

Ominis stomped towards her. “You just waltz in here like you own the place, then accuse ME of being rude?”

“Sebastian told me I could come here! God, I just needed a quiet place to study!”

“It wasn’t Sebastian’s secret to share!”

Summer walked closer to him and put her hands on her hips. “Ok, I get why you’re mad about the undercroft, but is there any particular reason you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you. I dislike you. There’s a difference.” He smirked.

Summer’s jaw dropped. “God, you’re such a pompous asshole!”

“And you’re obnoxious. You’re loud, you swear, and you get Sebastian into trouble!”

Summer snorted. “He didn’t need me for that!”

“You encourage him! That’s all you’ve done since you came here! You drew him in and you’ve had your claws in him ever since. You’re a damn succubus!”

Summer laughed out loud. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m fucking your friend and leading him astray? Not that it’s any of your business if I was, but we’re just friends.”

“Please, he practically falls at your feet. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

“That’s because he likes me! He’s my friend! And I’m a GODDAMN PLEASANT PERSON! You’re the ONLY one who seems to have a problem with me!”

“You just want everyone to like you, is that it?”

“No, I want YOU to like me!”

Ominis froze. “What?”

“You heard me! For reasons unclear to me, I’m attracted to you. Even though you’re an ENORMOUS pain in my ass.”

Ominis stepped closer, his face hovering above Summer’s. “Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?”

Summer scoffed. “Boy, that’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“You make me want to pull my hair out!”

“Want some assistance with that?” She put a hand in his hair and gripped it.

“Don’t.”

“Why? Are you worried I’m going to mess up your perfectly styled hair?”

She hadn’t realized he’d backed her up against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her.

“Stop pushing my buttons.” He snarled.

“I think you want me to.”

There was a moment of silence between them, both of them breathing heavily. “This changes nothing.” Ominis said.

“Agreed. I still think you’re a dick.”

He practically smashed his lips against hers, pressing her firmly against the wall. She tangled her fingers in his hair and he let his hands wander lower. She bit down on his lip and he practically growled as he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her upwards. She wrapped her legs around his torso and he tore open her shirt, sending buttons flying. She yanked at his tie and tossed it aside. He placed kisses against her neck and she threw her head back and moaned. This seemed to spur him on, and he bit down, causing her to yelp.

“Put me down.” She demanded. He complied and then she was shoving him backwards toward one of the chairs they had set up. He sat and pulled her onto him, and she straddled him. She ripped his shirt open and he snarled.

“I’ll have you know that was a very nice shirt you ruined.”

“You can afford it.” She helped him shrug the shirt off and he tossed it aside. He let his hands slide up her skirt and he hooked a finger in the waistband of her panties. She rolled her hips on his lap, grinding against the bulge in his pants and he groaned.

“You’re driving me MAD.” He growled and began working on unhooking her bra.

“It’s what I do best.” She kissed him hard and he groaned against her mouth. He’d just grabbed the band of her bra and was preparing to unhook it when they heard Sebastian’s voice.

“Aw, it’s nice to see you two getting along.”

“FUCK!” Ominis practically threw her off his lap.

“I can assure you that we’re not getting along.” Summer crossed her arms over her exposed bra.

“Really? Sure looked like it to me.” Sebastian grinned.

Summer blushed and looked for her discarded shirt. Sebastian tossed it to her. Not like it did much good, missing all the buttons.

“We were having a discussion. Things got out of hand.” Ominis replied, smoothing his hair down.

“It wasn’t a discussion. It was me asking you why you were such an arrogant asshole.”

“Don’t start this again.” He snarled.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go.” Sebastian said as he backed away.

“Stop using your siren song on me!”

“Would you just fucking admit you’re attracted to me?!”

Sebastian chuckled as the door to the undercroft closed. Like fire and gasoline, those two.