#And what do i have to look forward to when its over ?

[sleep-0-deprived]

Sirens touch~! (Kyle Garrick x male siren reader) 𓊝

WC:.2.1K

Tags: pwlp, anal sex, sex on a boat, monster x human, pheromones used as drugs, fish anatomy mentioned, bottom male reader, seduction themes, siren songs, handjobs, neck biting, blood mentioned ��

A/N: this one is for @creepy141dollie hope Y’ like it, forgive if M’ descriptions of sirens are inaccurate, this was jus my thought process <33

Taglist: @kimisbunny @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts

𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝𓆟𓆝

The air was fogged over and cold- rigidly so, you could almost taste the salt in the air when you breathed in the mist. Kyle wasn’t happy about this in the slightest, the moment price caught wind of makarov supposedly hiding somewhere across the sea, he had the whole task force on a ship on the ocean waters, that included Gaz too. Gaz walked around on the deck, he’d peek his head over the rails and stare into the nearly black abyss of water— god he could only imagine how cold that water must’ve been.

His eyes slowly widen when he sees something beneath the sheets of liquid, it was probably just a dumb fish swimming around. Garrick wasn’t made for the waters nor did he like them, sea sick was the only thing he ever got from it— and was that a person laying on that rock?…oh god the sea must be getting to him.

“I don’t see how sailors manage”

Gaz diverts his gaze to the passing soap, walking by and across the ship watching the other end- like what he was supposed to be doing but something felt off he couldn’t explain it, it all felt weird like bugs churning around in his stomach. He’d just cut it down to the waves giving him motion sickness.

“Are you gonna make it there gaz?”

He nearly jumps when ghost sneaks up on him standing behind him with his mask on letting his gaze pierce through the other male.

“You shouldn’t be so damn quiet- you’re gonna give someone a heart attack these days”

“Relax, I was just gonna ask if ye wanted to swap tasks- ye go to the lower deck N’ keep an eye out”

The man’s British accent creeping through his words only making Gaz sigh and nod, making his way down to the empty deck, his body felt a reaction the closer he got to the waters almost like something compelling him forwards. When the rock he had seen earlier came into view he could’ve sworn he saw a man with H/C hair laying there with a deep blue webbed ear. Before he knew it he felt his chest ache at that sight- why did he feel so much need over a man that probably was a figment of his lonesome imagination.

He leans against the rails, blinking once and frowning when he sees nothing on the rock, he almost feels sadness as the disappearance but before he can mourns it a hand is placed up on the ship from the loading area a few feet from him.

“Who’s there?!”

His voice rings empty in the fog, you slip your way up onto the deck while laying sprawled with a little grin. Tilting your head over almost like a curious cat— you weren’t used to not having your tail but you’d make having legs work. Gaz was practically lovestruck standing in his military gear and yet he felt just as defenseless as a common man before a gun.

“Aren’t you just a mean one?”

Your voice was angelic and he knew that you knew that, the way you slithered up on the deck like some serpent ready for its mean had him in a state of pure lust looking at you— Gaz was a weak man and the years of solitude without touch only made him weaker. Your prime prey, you liked a sweet man who was good at heart but had desperation— you could feed off the lust in his eyes alone.

Gaz started approaching you almost in a trance but you haven’t even used your song on him yet, this was pure free will.

“What the hell are you— a damn talking fish?”

“I’m not a damn fish— I’ll have you know I’m a siren”

You hiss your words at him growing irritated with it all, reaching your hand out to grasp hold of the man and pull him down with you having him beneath you on the deck. your body nude and cold from the see, your cock pressed flat down on your thighs while you click your tongue slowly tracing your cold fingers over his skin, humming your own siren song.

“Fuck, what the hell are you doing”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, everyone wants me.”

Your hands grip his shoulders speaking statements not questions, your cock was stiffening up when his bulge pressed to your plush cheeks almost giving it a friendly greeting making you push back down against his clothed member, Gaz’s hands roam down grabbing your hips instinctively gripping at the flesh with vigor while he stares up at you in a glossy eyed trance watching how your hands slid off his shoulder down his vest and to his cargo pants, pulling them down with a thud when you undo his tack belt letting it fall on the deck.

Your nails were sharp and pointed leaving chills on his thighs when your nails graze over the tip of his cock having it all wet and coated in pre cum when you finally get it out of his boxers. Your eyes narrow slightly glowing under the dim fog of the late noon sky, the ship rocking back and forth against the waves having Gaz feeling completely under your spell when you hum against his ear and press your lips to the side of his neck.

“God you’re…”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment but his lips quivered and stopped, all men acted that way— you couldn’t count the number of sailors who uttered those exact words to you. Gaz felt different you didn’t want to lure him into a seductive demise, you actually wanted him all for yourself.

“I already knoww~”

you hush him silently with your lips pressed to his Adam’s apple rubbing your sharp teeth to the flesh feeling tempted to just take a bite out of him. Your hand plays with his cock stroking the base and rubbing your thumb flush against the under side of his tip, right where you knew it was most sensitive.

“O-h fuck you’re good at this”

Kyle’s moan comes out strangled like a half laugh when he takes a gulp for the first time in his military years feeling nervous by something that looks so frail, your skin practically glowed sticky from the salt in the sea having your damp body in his lap feeing your bare ass on his thighs making his half lidded eyes just stare at it, he only looks away when he feels the sharp pain in his neck— you just bit him?

“Mhm, you just taste good enough to eat”

“Oh fuuck”

His groan just make you smile having his blood over your teeth like a fresh candy coating making your slit pupils dilate, licking up the blood off his neck leaving him with the mark of a siren when you aim his cock between your wet cheeks, grinning at his expression when his eyes clamp shut from the cold feel of your skin pressing to his manhood. You rock your hips back and forth letting go of his cock and reaching up to his jaw and gripping it tight while you lay hunched over him pressing your bitter and blue lips to his mouth kissing him- making him taste his blood off your tongue while he lays on his back on the deck.

“You want this so bad don’t you?”

“…yes…”

He mumbles mindlessly under you just staring you blankly in the eyes, his lips sloppily responding to yours with your cock standing barely stiff leaning a small pearl of pre cum with your blue webbed ears looking almost like a fin when they flick back and forth in satisfaction. His cock head rubbing between your cheeks and all up and down your crack rubbing against your twitchy ring of muscles.

“Tell me you want inside me- tell me now”

“…I want you, I wanna be inside you so bad”

Your mouth nibbles at his neck some more littering it in red marks having blood smears on his skin while his hips buck up under you making you let go of his jaw when he hisses from how your nails dug into his skin. Gaz presses into you slowly pushing his way inside of your vice, being a siren producing pheromones and natural lubricant around your rim, your holes weee designed to take— you were a being of lust- a Adonis of sex in every way but the name.

“Fuckin, please-“

If it wasn’t for how desperate Gaz was in this moment he may have passed out of humiliation, he hated the way his voice cracked when he begged for you sitting desperate with his cock half inside you prodding its way into the bunny tavern trying to spread and spear you open on his dick, you sit in his lap having your mouth latched on his feeling his moans muffled by your tongue when you bite on his bottom lip leaving little drops of blood mixing into the shared spit.

“Think you may be the biggest man I’ve taken in a very long time sailor”

You lift your hips up and slowly lower them back down on him while you let your hand find its way to his shoulders digging your nails through his gear and clawing a hole in the back of his shirt leaving marks on his rich skin. Your rim milks out the pre cum from his mushroomed head having his hands trembling on your hips while he pushes his spit down your throat.

“I’m not a damn sailor— I’m a captain”

His words come out strangled beneath you when he pulls his lips, tearing them away only to gasp for air. Your nails dig harder letting out soft moans when his cock rubs your prostate just right making you feel warm shrills up your spine having you feeling in a state of euphoria when you ride the man.

Your eyes creep back and you grow slicker around his cock taking it with ease, Gaz lets out heaved gasps beneath you. Not having fucked anything in a few solid years due to his job, his orgasm is on edge but he does his best to hold back not wanting to come too quick but boy if your insides weren’t practically begging it out of him right now.

“Stop or I’ll—“

Before he can even finish his sentence your hand creeps up off his back and over his mouth hushing his groans when you feel his cock start pulsing inside you reaching his high and flooding your insides with his semen leaving a warm feeling inside your ice cold body.

“Now you’re gonna be good and help me get off right?”

“Y-yes ofcourse”

He nods his head when you hum your song to him not even giving him time to come down from his orgasm when you remove your hand off his mouth and reach to the hand off your hips when you guid it down to your hardened cock, letting out a hiss when he touches the base. Gaz slowly starts stroking your cock and giving it a firm touches under your tip.

He starts stroking your cock a little faster gripping the base with your cock leaking a mess in his palm having you instinctively pushing your hips back down on his cock with the semen inside

“I’m getting close”

Gaz starts stroking your cock faster making you arch your back getting closer to edge with his hand snaking off your hips to your ass giving it a squeeze in time with his strokes. Pre cum starts oozing drink you all down your shaft making a mess when your voice cracks and your orgasm rushes over you, you grip his shoulders tight with your

“Oh fuck—“

“What is it fishy? You’re actin like this is your first orgasm”

You sneer down at him frowning when he says that, ropes of thin liquid shoots from your tip leaving stains on his gear. Your chest raises and falls rapidly practically glowing with your eyes rolling forwards to look down at him under you, sitting on top of him on the ship, you slowly raise up off of Gaz, semen starts oozing out of you and onto the ships deck, your rim twitches all puffy.

Before Garrick could even say anything to you, you were gone. The water flashed and it was like you were an imagination? Your figure lurked under the water then disappeared into the fog, sirens were never known to stick to one prey forever.

“Gaz? Mate what’re you doin?!”

There stood a flabbergasted soap, his mouth agape standing next to price with their eyes focused on a ruin captain kyle Garrick ‘Gaz’ laying covered in come with his pants around his ankles laying on his back, his cock limp and his eyes lidded clearly worn out.

[burrowkit]

Ah, on phone so this’ll have to be ugly and quick. I’ve got a jealous cat.

Over the last year or so, I’ve finally done it. I’ve grown in power. My ability to heal has extended to all life and souls.

I have raised my armies.

They kicked me out. They told me I wasn’t needed. That they could survive on fast potions thrown together by idiots.

They have no idea how much time and effort it takes to make each potion! I had crafted each healing effort, carefully tailoring them for each member of our party.

Like Carl. Thanks to me, his eyes were fully restored, and then some.

And Sean. Sean, Sean, Sean, Sean, Sean. His wheelchair fell apart, and he was a captured by our enemy. Their enemy.

When we recaptured him, they’d mangled his ears badly enough to never hear again.

Or so they thought.

I’d carefully healed his ears, enabling him to hear from great lengths.

And the leader. Rick. Real rich if him. A potion doesn’t cure a pile through the brain!

But you know who could? Who already did it once for him?

Yeah, that’s right. I did.

He was on the brink of death. By all common sense, none of them should have survived.

But they did.

Over the last year, I’ve been consumed with enacting my perfect revenge.

I head out, the world seemingly to twist and twirl to make travelling that much quicker. My power weaves into the world around me. Into my very being.

I know where they’ll be.

It seemingly takes me no time to reach them.

I prepare my attack, watching their cabin.

I wait until it’s dark, summoning all the predators of the woods. All the ones I helped bring back from the brink of death.

At least THEY know loyalty.

We approach the cabin. It’s surrounded.

I open the door, my loud argument prepared.

The words die in my throat.

They weren’t hiding in this cabin to scout out their next mission.

Around them, I see marks of a dead parasite. One incapable of being destroyed by a healer. Only by the death of all those around it.

I move forward, careful not to touch the parasite itself. Its magic is dark, so I shouldn’t be able to heal it. Still, I dare not chance it.

Rick, the gun in his hand, his face frozen, eternally unable to decompose due to the toxins in the parasite, in an expression of complete grief.

Sean, slumped into his wheelchair, as if he… collapsed. As if he were once a doll held by strings which were now… cut.

I look for Carl, finding him just by the kitchen door, a gunshot there.

The temptations to bring them back are there. Despite my hatred. My plans…

Of maybe because of my plans. I want to bring them back just for that.

I turn back to the table, and find a single journal. One written my Rick.

I skim it quickly, terrified of lingering.

I find the note for the week before I was ‘dismissed’.

Carl could see the enemy in the distance, attempting to watch us. Sean said he could get closer to listen in.

I read the next note.

Sean brings troubling news, their latest attempts to thwart us involve a parasite. I’ve perused Jane’s books. I’m so sorry, Jane for touching them. Forgive me, I had to know what to look for.

Next page.

Carl says he sees what Jane’s books have described. But worse. Sean fears for our safety. This parasite… it loves to prey on those that run from it.

We cannot leave. We can only prepare. It’ll hunt our group until it kills us all.

Another page…

Lying to Jane is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She’s the only one who can defeat The King. She does not yet know of the parasite. She can run from it. She won’t know she’s leaving it behind, nor that the rest of our fates are tied.

And the final one…

If you’re reading this, Jane. I am deeply sorry. You were like our little sister. You have gifted us each a gift we were unworthy to receive. And yet, we used these gifts to ensure your safety.

We lured the parasite here, trapping it with us.

I will do what I must to prevent it from chasing after you. It needs a host. It cannot survive long outside of a living host.

Please forgive us.

It’s dated for a month after I left.

After I was thrown away… no. Not thrown away like trash.

I was shoved into a life boat and told that I wasn’t needed to keep the ship running and here… now I’m back with my armada…

The ship I was on has sunk. Destroyed. A leak in the hull no one shared with me.

They kept the burden to themselves.

They traded their lives for mine.

Tears roll down my cheeks, and I leave the cottage, willing flame to lick it clean. To wipe away the remains of a fierce parasite.

Fire. A simple trick I learned as a child to cauterize a wound. Now?

Now, I’m ready to burn the world down.

To take my newfound abilities to destroy those that wish me and my loved ones to perish in terrifying ways.

“Let’s kill us a king,” I inform my army, walking past them.

They howl and cheer in the way they can. One of them nudges me, encouraging me to ride on it.

I take the offer.

After all, it always looks more terrifying when the villains arrives on a wolf.

And me?

I’ll be the villain to the tyrannical king who was once the hero of these lands.

I just hope that when all is said and done…

I can be seen as a hero to his villain.

As I ride, I let my magic nudge around the destroyed cabin, encouraging the forest to swallow it in plant life.

What better way to guard their deaths than by wrapping them in one last bubble of my healing magic?

“To slay the king!” I shout.

My army returns my shout in the way they can. I grin, relaxing slightly.

No one should ever have to lose what I lost. Not at the cost of trying to do right in this world.

Your a healer and was kicked out of the hero’s party because “Healers aren’t needed, just use potions”. You become powerful using your hate and distain for the hero’s party as a driving force. Only to learn, they kicked you out to protect you

[nerdygirlramblings]

continuing adventures of omega!soldier

previous

Given the conversation you'd had with them that morning, none of your squad is surprised by your decision when you join them for lunch. You see a few looking relieved, and while it stings, you don't fault them. You know it's only a taste of the battle you'll have to prove you're worthy of being part of the 141. Still, you feel uneasy leaving them, not knowing what kind of CO will take your place, decide you'll work with Captain Price to find a good replacement. Someone who won't end up running poor Geoffrey out of the service. Someone whose secondary gender might be a leg up for your most promising recruits.

You've been carrying the signed transfer papers since talking to your parents, but they feel like they're burning a hole in your trousers. You'd stared at your signature on them all afternoon. You don't, couldn't, regret your decision, but you have an irrational fear that something will happen to them if you don't deliver them to Captain Price before the ink dries, so to speak.

The walk from the mess to Captain Price's office feels simultaneously like the longest walk you've ever taken and one that's over before it starts.

Once in the right building, you find his office without issue and raise your hand to knock. You hear your raps echo hollowly on the other side of the door, but there's no other sound, no other movement. You never considered he might not be in his office. You can feel your hands get clammy, and you work to control your scent. There's no need to flood the hallway with your distress. You refuse to give into panic, remembering the good-looking assistant whose desk you passed on your way in.

You walk back down the hall to the handsome beta, his calming sent of fresh lemons and cinnamon, a homey, spicy blend, permeating the space, and wait a few moments until he notices you. When he glances up from the document he's poring through and over towards his computer screen, he finally sees you hovering/ Smiles brightly, he asks, "How can I help you?"

You shuffle a moment and glance down at your feet, surreptitiously wiping your hands against your thighs and reply, "Well, er, I was lookin' for Captain Price?" You only hope this man knows where he is.

Curiosity races its way across the beta's face before he locks down his expression. "Captain Price doesn't come into the office unless he has to, ma'am. Can I help you with something?" He's polite, but his scent has shifted ever so slightly. In addition to the comforting scents of lemon and cinnamon, there's now a subtly bitter scent of coffee or burnt brown sugar. Your presence is clearly unexpected.

You hurry to say, "Oh, I have some paperwork for 'im."

Recognition flashes in his eyes. "You're the omega, aren't you?" he whispers in an excited rush. He leans forward as if to share a secret. "He did say if you came by to make sure I bring you to the task force's barracks." His eyes sparkle playfully, and the lemon and cinnamon are now accompanied by the thick scent of buttercream. He taps his keyboard a few times, slides the papers he had on the desk into the drawer, and quickly stands. He's taller than you, but not by much, not like the other members of the 141. As he comes around the edge of the desk, he loops his arm with yours.

He begins steering you out of the office building and around to the barracks on the other side of base. "Name's Adam, and I do most of the boring stuff for the 141. and some of the other specialized groups on campus. I'm the one you give your leave paperwork to or incident reports, requisition requests, things like that." He gently squeezes his arm against yours. "I have to say, I haven't seen Price or the others this excited in a good long while. But don't tell them I said that!" He looks a little scandalized about having shared so much with you so quickly.

You smile at Adam. "I won't," you chuckle. "Are...are ya part 'a the pack too?" You remember Captain Price telling you the task force was a pack but that one didn't require the other. If Adam works closely with them, it stands to reason he might be.

"Oh no! No," he says quickly, catching your stricken look out of the corner of his eye. "Oh! No, I mean, not that I wouldn't have been interested, once upon a time. But I have my own pack. My alpha and another beta are military here on base, and our omega works in town."

You're a little placated, but Adam's comments do make you more wary of being part of their pack, something your omega whines about. He must notice your hesitation because he rushes on. "They're a good pack. Captain Price is a great leader. He keeps them in line both on and off the field, and with such big personalities, even from their betas, it's a job of its own. You wouldn't think two big alphas like him and Ghost could be in a pack without trying to kill each other, but it works. Then you throw in the bundle of energy of Sergeant MacTavish, and it's a whole other story."

You're so taken with how bright and open he is you don't realize you've stopped walking until you're standing at a nondescript door on a smaller building simply labeled 'TF 141.' Adam knocks three times in quick succession, waits, knocks three more times, and throws open the door. His voice echoes in the part of the building you can see as he calls out, "Captain Price, got a lovely, lethal Sergeant here who says she's got some papers for you!" Then he gives you a conspiratorial wink and turns on his heel, walking quickly back in the direction of the base offices.

next

[aimfor-theheart]

write the ex gf vi mini skirt fanfic request and my life is YOURS

ANON YOUR LIFE IS MINE!!

wc: 1.9k bro what the hell

tags: i imagine this as a grad school au or a modern/non fantasy au. reader is femme/wears a skirt and is called 'princess'.

cw: suggestive. ex-girlfriend!vi but you're both still really into each other lol.

***

the night is young and blue. you feel good—buzzing with a little excitement and confidence. the top you’re wearing clings to you in all the ways you love, fits right where you like it to, and your skirt is cropped all short with a little ruffled edge.

its sweet. coy. flirty.

you’re out with friends at some late night joint where the food is fried and the drinks are cold. the group is rather big—over spilling from one booth into the other where people come and go, flitting from one group to the other to chat and joke around. you're all around the pool table, where you and mel have started a game of pool against jayce and viktor.

you’re having a good night despite the fact that your ex-girlfriend is here.

vi is nursing a beer, lingering beside her sister—who keeps flitting around to socialize—and ekko. they're vaguely watching your game of pool.

unfortunately, the disadvantage of dating someone in your close group of friends, is that when you split up, she’s still at every event and night out.

you both said you’d play nice tonight.

and you have been. you haven’t snipped at each other. you haven’t ignored each other, either, but tonight—

you're feeling a little bold. looking for a little trouble (much to the frustration of all of your collective friends. ekko had promised he'd keep vi on a tight leash tonight but, well, that's no fun.

you're testing your luck.)

and maybe your skirt is getting a little short.

a peek of lacy panties never hurt anyone.

(maybe except for jayce, who regards you with sibling-like affection, and whose mortified when you bend over the edge of the pool table to line up the shot. your panties, dark beneath your skirt, peak out. his eyes go skyward. viktor snickers and mel pats his arm.)

you and mel are beating jayce and viktor in your game of pool. occasionally, ekko is ribbing the guys for losing. you watch as the balls clink together, rolling around, before coming to a gradual stop. it's your turn again.

"tough luck." vi says, "winning streak may be over, princess."

ekko elbows her for the petname.

it is a tough shot. it's a bad angle.

you give her this little sneer, but it's toothless—doesn't actually have a lot bite. "you forgetting i always kicked your ass in pool?"

"and who taught you how to play?" she says, quick and easy with it. she's grinning a little, too, and you're careful not to look at her too much. your heart still stutters a little despite it.

you huff and roll your eyes and respond with a bratty little, "jinx taught me better than you."

and then you take position at the end of the table, setting your hips against the wood and leaning forward on top of it, pool stick in hand as you line up the shot. and leaned over the table like this, your top low—cleavage spilling out against the felt green, you glance up at vi.

she's eyeing you dark and hungry, watching you through the thick bend of her lashes.

you swallow, focus back on the game.

you aim, pull back, and—

the white ball cracks against the wall and then against the midnight blue one, sending it careening into a nearby pocket.

you bounce up as everyone audibly reacts around you—mel cheering, jayce and viktor in awe. ekko laughing. jinx shouts in surprise. and vi curses a little.

“you see that?” you ask her, smile curling at your lips.

she takes a sip of her beer, “i saw it, hotshot. let’s see if you can do it again.”

“just makin’ sure your eyes were on the game.” you quip back and ekko coughs a little into his drink. you turn away from vi, before you can see the look on her face, but you can feel her eyes on you. burning.

you bite back a grin.

you set yourself up to take the next shot; there's only one ball left until you and mel can sink the eight ball. you press your hips into the pool table again and slowly lower yourself onto it.

behind you, you can almost feel vi's gaze, dark and heavy. your skirt rides up, revealing a peek of your panties—

black and surprisingly delicate, the lacy pattern intricate. and vi should know there's a little bow on the front of them.

she knows because she got them for you.

(something yawns open inside of vi, cavernous and wanting; a little wild and hungry. she thinks about coming up behind you, thinks about pulling your skirt down a little so no one else gets a peek, or plastering herself all over your back.

she thinks about bending you over the pool table and—)

you sink this ball into the pocket, too, on fire.

you bounce up, cheering, as the guys start to groan. ekko says, "that's a wrap, guys."

you miss the eight ball shot, but mel, on her next turn, easily ends the game. jayce and viktor owe you both another round of drinks.

and soon after, you're sipping on a mixed drink, too sweet and too strong. cloying. it sits on the back of your tongue.

you excuse yourself to the bathroom at some point when the liquor is hitting you a little more and you're flushed with warmth, giggly from your friends. and as you're drying your hands in the bathroom, alone, giving yourself a cursory check in the mirror, you hear the door open.

you pick your gaze up and in the mirror, you catch vi's eyes.

your stomach flips, a butterfly of nerves taking off inside you.

as she approaches, her form dark and broad—shrouding yours in the glass reflection as she nears, you turn over your shoulder to say, "what are you doing, vi?"

she cages you in against the sink, thick arms on either side of you. you feel the hard press of her belt, cold and metal, against the soft give of your body. your back is almost pressed to her chest. in the mirror, you watch her tongue swipe across her teeth. you trace the shape of her around your form—your own face, lips a little parted in surprise. hair tousled. the dark look in her eyes as she takes you in, too, takes in your reflection.

she smells familiar; soft, worn leather and amber. she feels familiar, too, having her around you again.

in the mirror, you catch her eyes.

your breath hitches a little and you force yourself to turn in her arms, to face her. you tip your chin up in that haughty little way that she used to love or hate. her eyes are hooded when you say, "vi—you can't be cornering me like this. we're not together anymore."

(it's a little coy around the edges. you play innocent well.)

you feel her knuckles against your thigh before you realize she's taken the edge of your skirt between finger and thumb. she rubs at the fabric a little, admiring it. her fingers are just underneath your skirt, just barely against your skin there. your head swims—you blame it on the drinks you had.

"then why are you wearing the underwear i bought you? that little, lacy black pair?"

you feel warmth hit your face, despite it all. you try to bite back, "and how would you know?

"think i wouldn't notice?" she asks, soft and husky, eyes clashing with yours, "hard to believe—the way you're acting in this little skirt, bending over in front of me, letting it ride up." you feel the back of her hand brush against your thigh. testing. trying.

"i don't know what you're talking about." you try to turn your nose up at her, looking away, but her other hand suddenly grabs your face. a little rough. a gasp is torn from you, even as she squeezes your lips into a little pout. you shudder as she presses into you harder. a little meaner. you fuss and squirm, trying to twist away, but she squeezes a little tighter.

bares down on you like a bad dog with a little bird in her mouth. pins you in place.

(vi rarely uses her strength on you, so much so that sometimes you forget—sometimes you're a little startled with the sudden flex of her muscles.

is the room spinning? heat swarms your face, your neck—down to your chest, hiccuping a little with breath. desire is a sharp, bright flicker inside you.)

"you know, if we were still dating, i wouldn't have let you prance around like this all night." vi says lowly and she's—she's got some sort of smile lurking in the corner of her mouth.

(a sort of wild amusement, watching you. watching your eyes blow wide and dark with lust, despite the way you try to fight her.)

"we're not—" you try to get out.

"i know," she says and it's almost just a hiss, a growl around the edges, her head dipping to your jaw, the corner of your throat. she angles your head away to give her room, to hold you in place. her lips don't connect with your neck, but your pulse jumps like she does, jumps like you want her to. "and ain't that a shame? i would've taken care of you already—pushed aside the panties i gave you and—"

the door to the bathroom suddenly shoves open.

in an instant, vi is gone, almost like she was never there in the first place. your chest heaves a little, warmth sitting high in your face as you grip the sink still, leaning against it. vi is a casual distance away now, leaning against the wall near the sinks, like she's waiting for you. like you were just talking. you have to take her in—the slight flush in her face, the fever-bright burst of her blue eyes, to know that she was affected at all.

someone else walks in, none the wiser. they head into a stall.

"you comin' home with me tonight?" vi asks, gaze searing, despite the way she keeps her voice casual. to anyone else, it might sound like a friend asking.

"vi—" you warn, as you finally gather your bearings enough to head towards the door. out of the bathroom. she's on your heels.

as you exit, and walk back towards your friends, she drops her hand to the back of your skirt. she tugs it down a little, so it sits lower on your thighs. you try to swat her away, but she catches your wrist, twists it a little to press it to your lower back. it doesn't really hurt—but you hiss and whine about it.

"let me go." you bite out.

her hand, wrapped tight around your wrist, falls away and you almost miss it. for a moment, she lingers near the edges of your skirt, around the curve of your thigh, before slipping away entirely.

she grins, slow and lopsided—sharp at the edges. and you'd know that smile anywhere on her; know how it tastes, how it feels against your thighs, or along the bend of your shoulder.

know it means trouble.

all you'd been looking for all night—in the bend of her smile.

"yeah, you're comin' home with me tonight, princess."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stolen Vows 1

Warnings: blood, violence, I am a dark blog and I write dark things.

Summary: Your wedding day is crashed by an unexpected guest.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

This is part of my wedding drabbles but will lead to other fun ideas.

As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! 😍

You sisters fuss with your veil. You’re impatient. You’ve been all and dreading for longer. You are to walk the same plank your mother walked to your father. The promise made by another that you must keep. 

Important men toy with insignificant women. They move them like pieces on the board. For their wealth, for their legacies, for their most basic needs. For those who proclaim power, they hold little over a broom or even a brush. 

You have no illusions. You understand what is expected. You will do what you must and hope to find a sliver of content. Even just a corner to hid when you need. 

“Vlad is not hideous,” your mother mutters for the dozenth time. She’s still trying to coax you as if you ever had a say. 

“I hear his father is cruel,” your sister Myra tuts. 

“Any man in his position must have that reputation,” your mother insists. “To men, but we cannot say for how he treats his wife. Or his son. Have faith, have faith.” 

Cruelty is a scale. A word against a stike, a look against a slap. Yes, there could always be worse. They could always do more. 

“There will be no need for cruelty if you are dutiful. If you are the kind-hearted daughter I raised,” she comes to you as you turn, away from the tugs and tweaks of your sisters’ obsessive hands. 

“I hope he isn’t,” Salima says and squeezes your hand. 

You reach for your veil. It will be easier to hide. You cannot muster an ounce of happiness. You are not a joyful bride, just the promised one. 

Before you can pulls the layers forward, there is a startling boom. It shakes the house and your sisters cry out shrilly. Your mother hollers for them to calm and storms to the window. You follow and peer over her shoulder. The gates are consumed in smoke, black and twisting like a crow’s talons. 

“What is this?” She hisses under her breath. “Where is your father? Ozzy cannot do this.” 

“Ozzy?” Mira whines. That is to be your father-in-law. Why should he act against your family when this wedding is to join them? 

“It cannot be,” Salima argues. “I saw him earlier. He is here.” 

“That makes no difference--” 

There’s crashing through the halls. The curtailed screams and thrashing of metal, wood, and bodies. Unseen carnage making its way through the house, barreling up the stairs, bouncing against the plaster. 

“We must go,” your mother grabs you and your sisters follow her to the door. She sweeps out, dragging you away from the calamity as it gets closer and closer. Her grip is iron, her steps faster and faster. 

“Mother,” you murmur. 

“Hush and come. There is a way your father built.” 

She takes you around the corner as another man yelps in agony. What is happening? Why? You clack on your heels, your sisters treading on your skirts. You reach back with your free arm and they latch on. Your fear swells to tremours. 

“In,” your mother opens a door concealed by the body length mirror between standing vases. “Go and do not stop.” 

She shoves you through, your sisters after you. You turn to protest, “mother, you can c--” 

She slams the door and she is gone. Her footsteps go as you and your sisters search for a catch. There is no mechanism on that side. The uproar continues, louder and louder. 

“We have to go,” Myra insists. “We cannot...” 

You gulp as your lip quivers. In the dark, you silently exchange unseeing glances. You turn and continues forward, descending the twisting staircase, the walls so narrow that you must take them single file. 

You reach the bottom and follow the tunnel on and on until you hit a door. You feel along the edges and find a latch. You twist it back. It takes all three of your bodies to push the door out. You stumble onto the grass and your dress is stand by the mud as you land on your knees. 

You look back as you sisters sprawl next to you. The house is away from you, far above, as you’re beyond the trees outside the walls. By the river that flows through the ravine. 

Myra rises first, then Salima. You struggle amidst the layers. They help you up and you run arm in arm. You follow the river south, away from your father’s home. You must find Edgar. He will know what to do. 

There’s a long crack and the snap of a twig. You stagger back as a shadow ripples in the air and you and your sisters watch the branch fall before you, blocking your path. You cling to them as a figure lands on his feet and crunches down the bark until the whole thing snaps. 

The man’s eyes are as yellow as an animal’s. His hairline and nose are smeared in blood, his hair thick with it, curling at his chin. He tilts his head with a wolfish curl of his lip. He steps off the branch as his tongue pokes out under his teeth. 

Your sisters whimper. You heave and bring them close. “Please,” you plead. 

The man comes closer and closer. It cannot just be him. He cannot have done this alone. You look around, expecting others to appear. They do not. 

“Please, please, we are only women,” Myra quivers. 

He prowls forward as he ignores her plea. His eyes are on you. She moves to stop him and he flings her aside. Samira snivels, “please, don’t--” He shoves her to the ground and stops before you. He looks you up and down. 

“It is your wedding day, yes?” He smirks as his eyes blaze. “Who am I to disappoint the bride?”  

He offers his hand. You look down at it, the blood along the lines in his palm, the callouses. You peek down at your sisters. He could do worse to them. And to you. 

You put your hand in his, “after all, no groom could be disappointed in you.” 

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

PART 15 THE PLAN WORKS

Carlos rushed out of his room, his footsteps echoing down the hall as he adjusted his shirt with one hand and smoothed his beard with the other. Just as he reached the corner, he spotted his son, Mattia, strolling toward him with a relaxed gait.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Mattia greeted casually, tilting his head as if Carlos’ hurried state wasn’t an unusual sight.

Carlos took a moment to catch his breath, pointing toward the lobby as he spoke. “Theo, could you do me a favor? Go hang out with Meredith for a bit. I need to head downstairs to the lobby.”

Mattia nodded without hesitation, but before he could turn away, Carlos stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, wait! How do I look? Good? Bad? Very bad? Is there something in my face or my suit? how about my tie?” Carlos asked in rapid-fire succession, his tone betraying just a hint of nervousness.

Mattia grinned, clearly enjoying this rare moment of seeing his dad so flustered. “Oh, you look really good, Dad. Like, seriously, very attractive and cool.”

Carlos’ face lit up at the compliment, and he gave his son a quick pat on the head before rushing off, muttering a quick “Thanks!” as he disappeared down the hall. Mattia watched him go, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

When Carlos arrived in the lobby, he paused in confusion as he spotted Matheo again, standing near the elevators.

“Theo? Weren’t you going to find Meredith?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of the situation.

Matheo blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Ah, yes, of course! I was already looking for her,” he said quickly, nodding as if to convince himself.

Carlos didn’t seem entirely convinced, but before he could question further, Matheo stepped forward and hugged him. “I missed you, Dad.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow but returned the hug, patting his son on the back. “I missed you too, Theo. Now go find Meredith. I’ll be back in a moment.”

With that, Matheo nodded and sauntered toward the elevator, humming a tune under his breath. When the doors opened, Meredith stepped out, holding a small mirror in one hand as she adjusted her hair.

“Have you seen your dad?” Meredith asked, her eyes still fixed on her reflection.

Matheo tilted his head, feigning confusion. “Are you talking to me?”

Meredith dropped the mirror slightly and shot him a deadpan look. “Hello…. Who else would I be talking to? Henry Cavill? Of course, I'm talking to you. Now tell me, where did your dad go?”

Matheo shrugged and pointed vaguely into the distance. “Over there, I think.”

Meredith followed the direction of his gesture, a smirk curling at the edges of her lips. Matheo’s gaze swept over her, seeing her from head to toe with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Meredith noticed the stare and raised an eyebrow. “What are you looking at?”

Matheo grinned wider. “Oh, nothing... It’s just that you’re really beautiful.”

Maredith groaned, rolling her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly decided to stop being annoying and are trying to be sweet now.” she started walking away, tossing over her shoulder, “If you see your dad, tell him I’m looking for him.”

Matheo cocked his head, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Whatever you say... devil.”

****

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with muffled conversations and the clinking of glasses. Y/N Y/LN sat at the far end, looking like the embodiment of exhaustion. Her head rested in one hand, while the other nursed a drink that the bartender assured would help with her headache. It tasted vile, but Y/N drank it anyway, hoping it would deliver on its promise. She barely noticed when a young woman approached him, asking the bartender for a whiskey.

 “Mrs. Y/LN, your bill,” the bartender said. Y/N quickly signed it, eager to leave before anything else could interrupt her peace.

But then came the sound of a drink being nearly choked on, followed by an excitable voice. “Are you Y/N Y/LN?”

Y/N turned to find the woman staring at her with wide eyes, a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Guilty...” she replied flatly, taking another sip of her drink, the red liquid swirling in her glass.

The woman’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “You don’t know how lucky I am to have found you! There’s this beautiful gown pure white creation that shimmered like starlight. I love the silhouette that hugged the body with precision, flaring out into a dramatic, cascading train that seemed to float effortlessly. Oh and the cloud-like tulle overskirt added in the layers of ethereal beauty, making the gown look as if it belonged to a modern-day fairytale. I tried calling you, but they said you were traveling. I’d be panicking if I couldn’t find something like that suit. It must be fate! I’m Meredith Blake, by the way.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly as she processed the woman’s rapid-fire enthusiasm. While Meredith’s energy was somewhat endearing. She still, nodded politely, offering a small smile out of courtesy. “Nice to meet you, Meredith.”

The bartender returned with another round, placing a whiskey down with a casual. Meredith, however, was still brimming with excitement, oblivious to Y/N’s exhaustion.

“You know,” Meredith continued, leaning in as if they were old friends, “I saw that gown in a magazine and instantly knew I had to have it. It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. Honestly, you’re a genius.”

Y/N simply said, “I’m glad you like it.”

Meredith grinned, lifting his glass in a toast. “it feels like fate meet you there.”

Y/N clinked her glass against Meredith’s with a small, tired smile. She didn’t believe in fate, not really, but for the moment, she let herself pretend.

*****

Carlos couldn’t shake the image of the woman he saw earlier—the one with blondish hair, and the kind of smile that could stop time. Was it real, or had the heat gotten to him? He wandered through the hotel grounds, distracted, scanning every corner for a glimpse of him. 

He made it to the pool just in time for his future in-laws to stop him. Meredith’s mom was beaming, clearly enamored with the place. 

“Oh honey, this hotel is absolutely perfect for the wedding. The more I see it, the more I love it,” she gushed, grabbing his arm. 

Carlos couldn’t shake the image of the woman he saw earlier—the one with blondish hair, and the kind of smile that could stop time. Was it real, or had the heat gotten to him? He wandered through the hotel grounds, distracted, scanning every corner for a glimpse of her. 

He made it to the pool just in time for his future in-laws to stop him. Meredith’s mom was beaming, clearly enamored with the place. 

“Oh Carlos, this hotel is absolutely perfect for the wedding. The more I see it, the more I love it,” she gushed, grabbing his arm. 

Carlos nodded absentmindedly, his attention drifting elsewhere. Then, he saw her again. Y/N. Walking by the pool, still wearing that beautiful dress that somehow looked effortlessly elegant. Carlos froze. The sunlight hit Y/N just right, making her look... angelic. Was there a literal glow around her, or was Carlos just imagining things? 

“Yes,” Carlos muttered vaguely, tearing his eyes away from Y/N to respond to his future mother-in-law. “Really beautiful. No doubt about it.” His words carried a hidden meaning she thankfully didn’t pick up on. 

As Y/N walked closer, Carlos started moving toward her, trying not to trip over the occasional chair or distracted hotel guest. 

“Carlos, how many guests are you inviting to the wedding?” Meredith’s mom pressed. 

“We’ll talk later,” Carlos said, brushing her off. He was far too distracted to think about the arrangements.   

He sped up but managed to trip over something—or maybe someone—because the next thing he knew, he was falling headfirst into the pool. 

The splash echoed, and gasps rippled through the crowd. Chessy shouted a warning that came too late, and Carlos resurfaced dripping wet, his face flushing in embarrassment. From a distance, Y/N stood frozen, unsure whether to laugh or rush over. 

Carlos climbed out of the pool, water dripping from his hair. He ran a hand through it and grinned awkwardly. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, his voice cracking slightly. 

“H-hey, Carlos,” Y/N replied, his voice soft but filled with nerves. 

Carlos stared at her, still trying to make sense of it all. “It’s… amazing that you’re here,” he said, his words spilling out clumsily. “But can you tell me what’s going on? You don’t seem nearly as shocked or confused as I am.” 

Before Y/N could answer, a young voice chimed in. “Dad… I can explain.” 

Carlos turned, blinking in disbelief. Standing there was a boy who looked all too familiar. 

“Matheo?” Carlos asked, his voice shaky. 

“No, I’m Mattia,” the boy corrected. 

Carlos froze, his brain working overtime. “Mattia? Wait… Mattia?” 

“Yes, Dad,” Mattia said with a grin. 

“And I’m Matheo,” another boy added, appearing from behind. 

Carlos’s jaw dropped. “You’re both here? Wait… Matheo? Mattia? Together?!” He looked from one to the other, trying to process the realization. 

Matheo stepped forward, smiling mischievously. “It seems you and Mom had the same idea of sending us to the same camp. That’s where we met—and came up with this brilliant plan.” 

“They switched places,” Y/N explained gently, his gaze shifting between the twins and Carlos. 

Carlos blinked, his confusion deepening. “So, I’ve had Mattia with me all this time?” 

Mattia nodded hesitantly. “Yes… are you angry?” 

Carlos let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Angry? No, of course not!” He pulled Mattia into a tight hug. “I’m just so happy to see you, son. The last time I saw you, you were still in diapers.” He laughed, glancing down at his wet clothes. “Although I guess I haven’t changed much—I’m still soaking wet.” 

Mattia laughed nervously. “It doesn’t matter, Dad. I’ve grown up now.” 

Matheo stepped forward, crossing his arms with a dramatic sigh. “And I’m about to hit my teenage years without a mom to fight with. Do you know how tragic that is?” 

Y/N laughed softly at his son’s theatrical delivery, and Carlos finally began to relax, a huge grin spreading across his face. 

“Matheo,” Carlos said, shaking his head, “you were in London all this time?” 

Matheo nodded smugly, and Carlos pulled him into a hug as well. “Come here, my little troublemaker.” 

As Carlos held both boys, his heart felt fuller than it had in years. This was chaos, sure—but it was the kind of chaos he never wanted to let go of. 

“Dad, mom, she’s amazing. I don’t know how you ever let her go,” Matheo whispered to Carlos, loud enough for Y/N to hear. 

Carlos shot them a sharp look, but before he could reply, Y/N stepped in. “Boys, how about you let your father and me have a moment alone? Go on, we’ll be fine.” 

Matheo shrugged, nudging his brother. “Sure, no problem,” he said, grinning. Mattia followed, both of them snickering as they walked away. 

Carlos let out a breath, grabbing a towel to dry off. “This is unbelievable,” he muttered, rubbing his hair with the towel. “Them together, you here… Ouch! Damn it!” 

Y/N frowned, noticing the small cut above Carlos’ eyebrow. Without hesitation, he stepped closer. “Let me see that,” she said, her voice calm but firm. She flagged down a nearby waiter. “Excuse me, could we get a first aid kit, please?” 

Carlos stood at the edge of the pool, shaking his head as water dripped down his face. His twin sons, Mattia and Matheo, exchanged sly smiles as they stepped back, clearly proud of whatever mischief they’d just orchestrated. 

“Of course,” the waiter replied, hurrying off. 

Y/N gestured for Carlos to sit down, and though Carlos was reluctant, he obeyed. Y/N sitting next to him, tilting her head gently to examine the wound. 

“How are you, Y/N (lovely nickname)?” Carlos asked, his voice softer now. “Can I still call you that? Or should it be (Y/N) these days?” 

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “Y/N’s fine. It’s been a while, but I don’t mind.” 

Carlos smiled, his dark eyes lingering on Y/N. “You haven’t changed. Still as beautiful as ever.” 

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, the words catching him off guard even after all these years. Before she could respond, they were interrupted by an enthusiastic voice. 

“There you are!” Meredith’s familiar tone broke the moment as she approached, her eyes lighting up when she saw Y/N. “Oh! You’ve already met! Carlos, this is Y/N Y/LN—she’s helping me with the wedding gown.”

Carlos froze, his towel slipping from his hands. “Wait, are you going to make her gown?” he asked, his voice low. 

Y/N, flustered, stammered, “I—I didn’t know she was your fiancé...” 

Meredith blinked, clearly sensing the tension. “Wait a second. Hold up. You two know each other?” 

Carlos opened his mouth to explain, but no words came out. Y/N looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. 

“Meredith, did I ever tell you it’s a small world?” Carlos joked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. 

Y/N rolled his eyes. ‘Carlos still an idiot,’ she muttered in her thought 

Meredith raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “How small, exactly?” she asked, her voice growing sharper.    

Before anyone could answer, Mattia and Matheo returned, their faces lit with mischievous glee. 

“Hi, Meredith!” Mattia greeted cheerfully. 

Meredith gave them a distracted wave, but when her eyes landed on the boys, she froze. Her gaze darted between them, her expression turning to one of shock.

“Why… why do you two look the same?” she stammered, pointing between the twins. 

Matheo grinned. “Because we’re twins,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Surprise!” 

Meredith’s jaw dropped. “Carlos! You never told me—”

“Mer, did I tell you that Matheo had a twin?" Carlos spoke, receiving Meredith's full attention."N-no... I think you forgot that little detail,"

The Matheo reproached. "Don't worry Meredith, he never told me either"

Matheo replied, looking at his father out of the corner of his eye. "By the way, I'm the real Matheo, he's Mattia... he pretended to be me, while I pretended to be him."

“And did he tell you,” Matheo chimed in, pointing at Y/N, “that she is our mom?” 

Meredith whipped around to face Y/N, her face a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You’re their mom?” she turned to Carlos, her voice rising. “You were married to her?” 

Y/N crossed her arms, her expression cool as she raised an eyebrow at Meredith. “Yes, I’m their mother. Is that a problem?” 

Meredith stared at her, then at Carlos, then back at Y/N. “Oh, my God. You’re right, Carlos. This is a small world. Too small, actually. Is there another surprise you want to tell me?” 

The twins burst into laughter, clearly entertained by the chaos they’d caused. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, though she quickly covered it with a cough. 

Meredith, meanwhile, looked like she was one sarcastic comment away from exploding, which only seemed to delight the boys even more. 

Carlos groaned, rubbing his temples. “This is going to be a long day…”    

prev chap

[oceanicwriting]

quickly.

summary: you and mattheo are coworkers at your father's bank. you're both pretty competitive in the area, but you were both madly in love outside of that.

pairing(s): mattheo riddle x fem!reader

a/n: sorry if this is boring! i've been on my road trip and i haven't had much time to post. i'll keep doing my best, promise and kisses <3.

+18 smut, standing, public sex, praising, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ the museum where the fundraising dinner for the magic school in london will be held shines like never before. among all its event rooms, there is one that has large paintings, tables, and people talking animatedly. among those guests was you.

ㅤㅤㅤ ever since you finished school, you have worked at the bank that your father owns. you have always been part of the project coordination wing, leading selected teams to develop marketing strategies or loan plans for companies in the magic world.

ㅤㅤㅤ —young lady! how are you? —an adult man, accompanied by a girl who looks your age, calls out from behind you—. your father just told me about your latest project for mr. graham's company. i must admit, it's genius.

ㅤㅤㅤ you smile cordially, accepting the man's hand. you were trying to remember his name since you turned to see him, but in the whole work conversation, you couldn't do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —it's just a wonderful idea... oh, mr. riddle! —the man stops, looking over your shoulder—. i didn't know you had arrived. george told me you had been delayed by traffic a while ago.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo riddle, your worst enemy and precious boyfriend. although that last thing was a secret that both of you kept under the rug due to your father's strict policy of no relationships between workers. yes, you were sure that if you talked about this with your father, he wouldn't have a problem, but keeping it a secret was a little more provocative than you would like to admit.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you turn to look at him, taking in his figure in that tight black suit, you have to hide the soft smile that forms on your lips with a long sip of champagne. on the contrary, mattheo doesn't seem to have any reaction to your outfit.

ㅤㅤㅤ —mr. whitestock. —a victorious smile draws on his lips—. how is everything here?

ㅤㅤㅤ now his lack of reaction makes sense. mattheo was watching you from the shadows long before passing by you to get the man's attention, knowing from the first moment that you didn't remember his name.

ㅤㅤㅤ —here with this beautiful young lady talking about her new project to boost mr. graham's international investments. what a lucky man! —the man says, making you smile angelically—. did you participate in that project?

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo denies.

ㅤㅤㅤ —unfortunately the beautiful lady here didn't consider me. wasn't that right?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, trying to keep your composure under his gaze and ironic comment.

ㅤㅤㅤ —well, mr. riddle, i had better candidates in mind. —and we know that working together would end up giving us away instantly—. besides, weren't you busy with your five failed projects?

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and although you can see the intention to respond, mr. whitestock steps forward saying—: oh! i see what's going on. a little rivalry gives more excitement to work, doesn't it?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at your partner, who hides his smile under his hand.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's amazing to think that mattheo riddle, a man full of ambition and selfishness at work, had managed to make you fall in love effortlessly. it's likely that the greed of both of you had drawn blurred lines of desire that neither of you wanted to ignore. you liked him to be your biggest competition, but every time you were alone, he made sure to make you feel loved.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you don't have the slightest idea, mr. whitestock —you say, noticing how another investor calls the man from afar—. it seems that you are needed over there.

ㅤㅤㅤ the man turns, temporarily saying goodbye in case you sit together at dinner and walk away with his hand resting on the waist of his young companion. mattheo and you watch him walk away, side by side, feeling how his eyes fall on your tight figure in that beautiful white dress soon after.

ㅤㅤㅤ —don't look at me so much, mr. riddle, they'll think you like me.

ㅤㅤㅤ he lets out a soft laugh, taking another glass of champagne from the waitress who is passing in front of you with a full tray.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what can i do? you look beautiful in that dress —he whispers with a hoarse voice, clearing his throat and taking a sip—. really beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤ you both remain silent when one of your colleagues passes in front of you, greeting him effusively.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful enough to take me to dinner at a nice restaurant? or beautiful enough to break it when you have the chance?

ㅤㅤㅤ you move sensually to his right side, hoping that will draw his attention to the cut of the dress that shows one of your fine legs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you know i'd do both in one night, love.

ㅤㅤㅤ a satisfied smile forms on your lips when you hear his nervous voice, but it fades as soon as you notice your father walking in your direction with a young investor at his side.

ㅤㅤㅤ you glance at mattheo beside you, circling his back to say softly—: matt, i'm not wearing any underwear today. just so you know.

ㅤㅤㅤ meeting your father halfway, you begin to listen to the ideas of the investor who accompanies him. In the middle of that you turn to see mattheo, who has not stopped looking at you even though he is trapped with some coworkers and squeezes his glass so hard that you feared it would explode in his hand. that is what you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤ the rest of the night progresses normally. mattheo and you had to sit three tables away, listening to speeches, business conversations, and private jokes. when the formal part was over, the grown men began to dance on the dance floor. your father had insisted that you accompany him, but when you manage to escape with a glass of wine in hand, you begin to wander through the rooms full of art.

ㅤㅤㅤ minutes later you stop in front of the large frame that has a series of lines in red, black and yellow.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why so alone? —it's his voice, echoing in the almost empty place. you know he must have a vain smile for finding you without company, how could you not know?

ㅤㅤㅤ —thinking —you say, listening to his quiet steps approach you—. don't you think this painting is grotesque?

ㅤㅤㅤ he comes up behind you, hugging you and leaving a trail of kisses on your bare shoulders. they are calm, sonorous, and warm as always.

ㅤㅤㅤ —grotesque? —he questions, his voice and the smell of cologne playing with the little thread of sanity you have before his warmth—. it looks like a bunch of meaningless lines.

ㅤㅤㅤ you let out a laugh that is accompanied by the soft sound of mattheo's kisses. you settle into his arms, turning to see his calm eyes, roaming over your face as if he’s seeing it for the first time. his hands move down to your ass to press you against him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you know there are cameras in here? —you ask, kissing his mischievous smile softly—. as much as you want to fuck me, you can’t.

ㅤㅤㅤ —the bathrooms are always available.

ㅤㅤㅤ —with all those middle-aged men going to the bathroom every two minutes? not really my kind of sex.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo moves in to capture your lips in a disgustingly lustful kiss. his tongue enters your mouth to play with yours instantly, while his hands squeeze your ass and rub you against his pelvis. your hands hug his neck, panting softly at the desperation of his lips. he was as perfect as ever, but you had to stop him before you couldn't take it anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ —matt... —you say, gently hitting his shoulder—. mattheo, wait.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i promise i'll do it quickly. okay, love?

ㅤㅤㅤ you caress his face that doesn't waste seconds to disappear into your neck, tickling with the tips of his messy hair brushing your skin. you look at the camera of the place with a growing need that mattheo, with those wet kisses spreading on your neck, doesn't help to lower.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come with me —he says suddenly, taking your hand and leading you through the halls.

ㅤㅤㅤ you don't remember exactly the path he takes you, but mattheo seems to have complete knowledge of where to go. when you get to a place with less light, he stops you right against a thick marble pillar. he doesn't even let you ask and catches your lips in the middle of a deep growl.

ㅤㅤㅤ it doesn't take you long to get used to the movement of his mouth against yours, responding with the same intensity that envelops you like never before. you feel butterflies in your stomach that carry a series of tickles to the rest of your body. mattheo kisses your cheeks and licks your earlobe and neck so calmly that you can't help but laugh between your sighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo takes the glass from your hands, drinking the remaining drink in it and leaving it on the floor.

ㅤㅤㅤ —let me check if you were lying —he says, putting his hand in the cut of the dress, reaching your wet pussy—. what a nasty girl. at a charity meeting, love?

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh, being forced to turn your back and spread your legs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —don’t pretend your cock hasn’t hurt all dinner, matt —you say, moaning afterward at the slow massage he’s started on your clit—. i can feel it.

ㅤㅤㅤ you know he has a smile on his face by the way he kisses your bare back softly. besides, mattheo is a man who enjoys it when you start vocalizing what he does to you, and that’s exactly what happens when he caresses that sensitive spot.

ㅤㅤㅤ —too bad i can’t enjoy this for longer. —you can hear his pants falling down his legs and, shortly after, the tip of his member threatening your entrance—. but we have to hurry if you don’t want them to know what a slutty you are.

ㅤㅤㅤ a cry that echoes between the high ceilings escapes your lips when mattheo buries himself completely inside you. his hand stimulating your clit has stopped, helping you keep your composure at his large size filling every inch of you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —ready?

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod. mattheo watches the waves of your hair bounce against the top of your shoulders and spreads kisses down your empty back before he begins to move.

ㅤㅤㅤ at first he’s not soft or tender as if he’s afraid you’re going to break into pieces because he thrusts hard the same moment he feels your walls tighten around him. he was eager to hear you, to make you shiver and touch your entire warm body. mattheo felt so hot to feel your deepest being that even he was surprised.

ㅤㅤㅤ his mouth takes care of biting and kissing your shoulders softly, enjoying how the echo makes your sounds and his attack them from all directions.

ㅤㅤㅤ —is this what you wanted, right? —he asks, stopping abruptly and bringing his hand to your clit—. is this what you wanted to happen when you came without underwear?

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers massage your erect area in circles, pushing themselves inside you lazily, grunting and sighing against your ears. you try to regain your speech as best you can, because you needed to hear the hard crash of his pelvis against your buttocks, you need him to bite your shoulders as if he were dying to mark you and for your juices to splash on his cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ —matt...

ㅤㅤㅤ —yes, love? come on, you can talk.

ㅤㅤㅤ —just, please, move faster —you whimper, lowering your hand to his to increase the movement of his fingers pressing your clit—. please. i need you to give me hard.

ㅤㅤㅤ a laugh, mixed with a pleasurable sound, is drowned out when they find your lips to do what you ask.

ㅤㅤㅤ his thrusts have become so violent that he forces you to rest your hands on the pillar to keep from hitting your head against it. you gasp and moan with an intensity that's impossible to control because mattheo knew exactly how to stimulate your body until you were brought to ruin.

ㅤㅤㅤ —m-more, matt. a little...

ㅤㅤㅤ from the first moment you hooked up at an office party, he discovered that you needed him to talk to you to release your orgasm. you loved how his raspy voice, full of lust, praises the way only you know how to take it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're doing well —he says, lifting your dress a little more to see his cock disappear between your thighs and pelvis crash against your ass—. s-shit. such a nice view and so little time.

ㅤㅤㅤ your hips seek the sensation of your desperate orgasm in a movement against mattheo, coupling with his thrusts to deepen his entrance as much as you can. the muffled screams that leave your throat are lightened by the soft laughter that hides the boy's moans.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so tight and perfect looking for more.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's the way he talks to you, how his hand squeezes your hip to pull you against him while the other massages your clit. it's the mix that all that does with the aroma of his cologne that makes you stop breathing.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come on, love, just cum for me.

ㅤㅤㅤ the shock of his breath hitting your ear is enough to feel a tingle throughout your body, contracting your muscles and stifling a scream. your orgasm is so powerful that it cuts off your breathing and weakens your legs, forcing mattheo to hold you in his last thrusts that fill your insides with his semen. god, how you loved the heat of his semen taking you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you okay? —you nod, mattheo stops holding you to get out and fix his clothes while you lean on the large marble post—. come here.

ㅤㅤㅤ he hugs you again, capturing your lips and caressing your back while his tender kiss imprisons you against the wall.

ㅤㅤㅤ —if a camera caught us, they will talk to my father —you whisper.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i will take care of that.

ㅤㅤㅤ that makes you laugh, separating yourself to look into his brown eyes delirious from his orgasm seconds ago. he is so cute that you could die in his arms and you would be the happiest person on the planet. mattheo caresses your cheeks gently.

ㅤㅤㅤ —go back first —he says, taking two steps back. you pick up the glass from the floor and kiss his cheek—. i love you.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, paralyzed by those words that had not been said until this very moment. his soft eyes with a hint of fear for having said it only make your heart beat much faster and a giant smile appear on your lips to hug him tightly.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i love you too, matt.

[cutiecusp]

Waiting for you. Part one.

Captain John Price x Reader.

Tw. mentions of alcohol. Dominant Price. Slightly darker than my usual fluffy fics, but HEA in the end. MDNI.

"You think this is a game, love?" His gruff voice rings out through the room.

You stand there, clad in a pretty dress, eyes lowered as you hiccup, the alcohol of the night wearing off you.

"When your brother asked me to pick you up, I wasn't expecting this." John continues.

You look down at your feet, embarrassment clear on your face.

"Don't need a babysitter." you murmur, as defiant as you could, without sounding like a brat.

John prowls over to you, his scent enveloping you. Faint cigar smoke and leather overwhelmed your nose as you breathed in.

His rough finger lifts your chin so you meet his eyes, his stormy gaze harsh in the low light of your apartment.

"Well, it looks like you fucking need one to me." He scoffs, his breath close to your face as he leans in further.

"It was a party. I was having fun." You retort, anger blooming over your cheeks.

"You and my brother have this whole 'save the world and be heroes' thing going on, but you don't care about anyone outside of that, not really."

He bristles as he hears what you are saying.

"You think i don't care. I drove to come and get you in the middle of the night-"

"Like my brother asked." You interrupt.

"You'd do anything if he asked, probably bloody fuck him too." The traces of alcohol in your system made you bold, and watching the shock in his face gave you a feeling of satisfaction.

He pushes you until your back presses against the door.

"Not the sibling I'd choose to fuck, sweetheart." he rasps.

"If you were mine right now, you'd get such a spanking, putting yourself in danger, drinking at a party alone, wearing this fucking dress.."

"But im not yours." You counter, your breath tight in your chest. But your gaze flickered down to his lips and back, and he smiled, a dark smile you had never seen on his face before.

"But you'd like to be, wouldn't you. Don't think i don't notice the way you look at me, love." His deep voice sending shudders down your neck as he breathes close to your ear.

You go to deny it, but its the truth. You've wanted John for years, and tonight was just another night to get drunk and avoid your feelings for him.

"You going to teach me a lesson then, John?" You ask boldly, rolling your hips forward to press into his.

"Bratty little thing like you needs more than a lesson." He replies easily.

"I'm not going to touch you while there is alcohol in your system, pet." He pauses, bringing his fingers flush against your cheek before leaning back.

"I want you sober and begging me for it." He turns you around, opening the front door.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Get some sleep, you'll need it."

As his back retreated down the hallway to the elevator, you could hear him chuckling to himself. Slamming the door shut, you miss the way he turns to the door, watching you get safe for the night, before digging in his pocket for his phone.

Dialling a number, he lets your brother know you are home.

After hanging up, he places an order for next day delivery, flowers, breakfast, handcuffs....

......................................................................................................................

I know im doing so many multi parts lately, i just couldn't fit this into one, so i hope this will do for now xD

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-lover-blog @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @skeletonsucker @vmaxis

[msfantasy]

Moving Day

Ghost Spirit x Reader

Summary: You buy an abandoned property

“Okay- something’s is clearly wrong with this place. There’s no way the selling price is this cheap.” You say to the realestate agent who stands nervously at the door. Her eyes darting around the house fearfully.

“The initial owner passed away suddenly in this house.” Your heart clenches painfully at that fact. “A lot of potential buyers have been disturbed by this.”

“That’s terrible…” You mutter sadly looking towards the rooms in question.

The agent swallows nervously. “Well- there are some owners and tenants claiming to feel the presence of a ghost. We even had some break their leases because of it.”

“Seriously? I would tolerate it for this price.” You really weren’t kidding. It was either this aesthetic family home or the more expensive mouldy apartment.

Stepping inside of one of the rooms, you are instantly hit with nostalgia. The room looks like it hasn’t been touched since the early 2000s. “Why has no one touched this room? Is there something wrong with it?” You call out to the agent that seems to be turning more pale.

“No one’s stayed here long enough to change it.” Now that’s peeked your interest.

“Really? This is actually so cool. If this were my house, I would just clean it up and leave as is- it’s like a time capsule.” The agent smiles kindly at you but you can see she’s antsy to leave. “Where do I sign? I love this home.”

Moving day was painfully long.

After all of your furniture moved in and the boxes were allocated to its intended room, you start with cleaning up the room filled with early 2000s decor.

You stripped down the bed and washed the sheets. Dusted all of the surfaces and vacuumed the floors. You even found a closet full of clothes that look well preserved but decided to wash them and fold them all anyways, just to keep them fresh. The room was sparkling clean when you were done with it. By the end of it, you were too exhausted to finish the rest of the house since you pretty much spent the whole day finding nostalgic items, and gushing on how you ‘always wanted this’ or ‘I use to have that’.

You took a long shower to wash off the days grime, feeling the sensation of being watched. After that, the presence only grew stronger as you pranced around your towel looking for your box of clothes, but you inevitably resign yourself to loosing your clothes box and end up taking some of the owners baggy boxer shorts and shirt. “Good thing I washed them!” You praise yourself for your accidental forward thinking and end up ordering some pizza and coke for dinner.

When the food arrived you prance happily back to the bedroom and put on Rush Hour on DVD and giggle happily at all the nostalgia of eating a huge pizza in a 2000s bedroom.

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, letting the movie continue playing in the background.

It’s amazing what you can sleep through, especially with a faceless man hovering over your sleeping figure as he tugs your hair behind your ear.

You felt the sensation of someone watching you again as you pull out your box of pyjamas from the fridge… “What the hell?” As soon as you went to take a seat on the dining chair you felt the sensation of sitting in someone’s lap, which caused you to shoot back up and inspect your empty surroundings.

But other than that, the ghostly presence seemed to just enjoy observing you. It never got in your way or taunt you- it would just watch. You really weren’t sure what the big deal was.

Except on the odd occasion when you feel the sensation of someone’s hand touching yours. That was a little unsettling but not completely unpleasant.

“Girlllll~ congratulations! You’re officially living in this creepy ass house.” Your best friend says over your FaceTime call. He leans into the camera, his eyes fixating on your background. “Girl, you better hire a damn priest or somethin’ to cleanse this house. There ain’t no way you volunteered to live in a haunted home like some dumb movie character.” Victor lectures with a dramatic flare.

“Relax- it’s fine.” You reassure yourself more than anything. “If it wanted me dead by now then I would be.”

Victor gasps at your statement. “Bitch! Are you crazy? Don’t dare the damn thing!” Victors reaction has you in stitches. “Do you think it’s a male or female?”

“Male. Definitely male.” You say, looking down at your screen to see Victors brow shot up.

“Miss Ma’am, how are going to be answering that so damn confidently.” You giggle again, scanning your surroundings as if you were checking to make sure the ghost wasn’t there … as if you could even see him.

“Sometimes when I shower-“

“Oh my gawd - you have yourself a crazy ass ghost that watches you shower?! Bitch it was nice knowing ya.” Victor says cutting you off, flailing in shock. “Wait a damn minute-“ Victor says, leaning into the call his brow raised. “You got yourself a lil ghost boyfriend?”

You belt out laughing. “Victorrr.” You drawl.

“Wha? I’m just saying it’s convenient! You get you a lil ghost boyfriend, you didn’t even have to leave the house which is a bonus for you.” He list on his fingers, before giving you a cheeky smile. “And maybe the ghost sex would be mind blowing!” Your giggling was interrupted with Victors screams.

“Victor?! What’s wrong?!” You ask worriedly watching Victor properly flailing around in a panic.

“Bitch did you not hear that?! How did you not hear that?!” Victors continues to panic waving his arms.

“Hear what?” You press, your heart racing.

“I heard a man’s voice literally say ‘I like him’! Girl I told you not to move into the ghost house and now the damn ghost is talking to me!” You begin to sweat nervously at Victors panicked reaction.

“Victor stop scarring me!” You whine, jumping up from the couch and taking refuge in your bedroom. Only you can’t. Your bedroom door remains locked, the door not budging and the handle remaining stuck.

“Oh girl I knew it! The ghost is trying to bed you!” Victor flails as you roll your eyes.

“The house is just old- sometimes the doors expand and get stuck…”

You look down at your screen and see Victor giving you the eye.

“Right … right… so you gonna sleep in his bed now?”

“…yeah.” Victor hums in a ‘I told you so’ tone.

“When you end up fuckin’ I wanna hear what it was like.” Victor states signing off for the night.

There’s no way … right?

[seat-safety-switch]

Once upon a time, everything came with an instruction manual. You'd open the box and immediately chuck that manual into the trash, because recycling wasn't popular back then, and you could still make a living cutting down trees to print more manuals with. Nowadays, the humble instruction manual is gone altogether, replaced with – at best – an interactive electronic instruction manual. I still don't read them, but now it's because I can't.

You see, "having a working computer" is a lifestyle that is simply incompatible with my existence. Despite the fact that our civilization has produced approximately 171.3 computers per person, I somehow have no ability to make them work. So I'm at the public library, where they get really mad if you take a transmission apart over their keyboard. Look, people, the keyboard catches the spring clips when they go flying out. Would you rather have this or me crawling around on the carpet?

When I'm on the side of the road because my futuristic garbage exploded, I can't always use my dumpster-dove flip phone to look up the manual, either. That would require me to buy cellular service, instead of just calling 911 and asking the firefighters to transfer my call every time (don't ask the cops to do it.) The only way forward is to assume there was no manual at all. Doing so also prevents me from receiving additional frustration, when I jump through all these hoops to find out that the fancy online manual does not have a chapter for "this product is now 37 years old and has corroded its entire wiring harness, here's your diagram on where 'purple' goes." Why even bother writing one, assholes?

Sometimes I call up the Haynes service manual people, and yell at them, telling them to make a print manual again. Then I tell them what I had to go through because of the eternal obsolescence cycle of all things electronic. Then they make me a job offer, which I refuse because it would mess with my unemployment payments. I'm holding out for an offer from Chilton. If it was good enough for Frank Herbert, it's good enough for me.

[trainsinanime]

Trains in Miraculous Ladybug - The Season 6 Tram

Part 1: The Metro Train

Part 2: The Metro Station

Part 3: Startrain

Part 4: The Gare du Nord

Part 5: The Bus

It's a new season, and we got a new art style, new trains, buses, cars, villains and anxieties in the world of Miraculous Ladybug! Mostly trains, of course!

At the end of season 6, the right person got elected mayor, which immediately transformed Paris into a wonderland of walkable urbanity and plentiful urban transit, even more so than before. That's literally canon. As part of that, the city has gotten trams. A lot of them. And they're weird. Time to restart this series of posts that I thought I'd finished long ago!

This will only focus on the trams we see, because there's just one episode out yet, "The Illustrhator". This will contain spoilers for what happens to the trams there. There is also a new bus that we see very briefly, but I'm hoping other episodes will tell us more about that.

The Vehicle

The trams we see are single four-axle vehicles. Yes, four axles, we do get to count them.

The design looks like they're individual small wheels rather than connected axles, which is a common design that has its advantages and its drawbacks. The floor tram is entirely at one level, seemingly about 30-40 cm above rail height.

We do get to see its interior as well. Nice big windows, different seating layouts, a big wheelchair area, and readers for Navigo RFID tickets at all doors. And, interestingly, fold-down seats, which are a feature on older Paris metro rolling stock.

We get a tiny hint of the inside of the cab as well. According to the display, we're going forward, and we're on line T3A towards Porte De Vincennes. And we're going 70 km/h.

There is actually a real-life Paris line T3A that does terminate at Porte De Vincennes (where you can change for the T3B), and I want to talk more about that, but before we can go there I need to talk about the rear of the train first. It has an open platform!

The rear platform

Don't worry about it being raised in the air here, that's just because the tram is currently falling down because the bridge is collapsing.

But don't worry, that is not a supervillain thing, the bridge just did that on its own, that's perfectly fine…

…right? The characters treat it like it's perfectly fine that this bridge just partially collapses without any supernatural interference, but, uhm, I have concerns. Questions even. Frankly I'm far more worried about that than about any supervillains. Alya and Nino later interview the mayor, and they completely ignore that a city bridge collapsed while a tram was going over it.

Sorry, I keep getting distracted. The rear of the tram has an open platform, which looks silly, is silly, is completely unrealistic, and I love it! See, while I am not aware of any trams like that, unless you count partially open ones like the San Francisco Cable Cars, but those are not quite the same.

However, there is a precedent for this platform, because Paris has a long history of city buses with such platforms. A good example is the Renault TN series

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, taken in 1950 by Sven Goliath, published by the Stockholm Transport Museum Commons

These were mostly a thing in the 1930s, but then got brought back in limited numbers in the 1960s after a Saviem SC10 had an accident that destroyed most of its rear, and RATP decided to be funny while rebuilding it. Later Saviem built these busses in series.

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, Tumblr won't let me link to the actual page there but it's on the Wikipedia article, taken by Sauvabus (bus historical association), published under CC-BY 4.0 international

All buses since then have put their engine at the rear, which has a lot of benefits, but also means it's right where this platform would go, so this has fallen out of fashion. Today you can only experience it when the one private transport museum near Paris has its monthly opening day, which is something I really need to visit one of these days. Here's a video showing the experience:

So there is precedent for this rear platform. Does it serve any purpose? Not really. Is it fun? Absolutely! And that's all it was on the Saviem SC10 as well, really. I love this platform. It's historic, it's quirky, it's fun, it's great.

The show definitely aims for a retro-futurist vibe now, seen e.g. in cars, like this modern take on the Citroën DS:

This modern take on this 60s and 70s legendary classic is what the modern DS brand should do, instead of their array of generic boring SUVs. Anyway, I'm not going to go too far into that, if I start talking about the cars in Miraculous Ladybug I'll never stop (yo is that a modern Peugeot 504? They literally modernised Aphrodite from Only Murders in the Building!). But I will say that this detail matches nicely.

The Infrastructure

Look at that station! Gorgeous! The designers of this show have created a tram stop in the style of the famous Guimard metro entrances, with their beautiful Art Nouveau design. That's amazing. I wish real tram stops in Paris look like that.

As for the tram stop itself, it's a low floor island platform with walkways to the sides, which matches modern standards for new tram stops worldwide. The track has gras planted on it, which is also common and popular, as it helps absorb noise, water, heat and pollution and it just looks nice. Yes, side platforms are more common, but this is still what a modern urban light rail network can and should look like. The only thing unrealistic about it is how pretty it is.

It should be noted that there's no overhead lines here, so the trains are powered by batteries, probably. That, or hydrogen, but a hydrogen tram would be a supremely bad idea, nobody would ever build something like that…

…except for Hyundai for some reason.

God that thing annoys me by its very existence. Hydrogen is expensive and will remain expensive for the next few decades, and this is what you're spending it on? A tram!? Trams should run with overhead wires. That's the good thing about a tram, you know where it's going to be, so you can put a wire there to give it power, and then you don't have to worry about batteries or hydrogen storage or whatever…

Sorry, I got distracted. Anyway, no overhead lines is realistic, and if they ever say, "it's a hydrogen tram" in future episodes, that'll be realistic too, even if it shouldn't be.

Instead let's look at this!

Closer…

Yeah! They finally fixed the metro map! The old one was an unholy mess of lines that didn't match anything (which I complained about before), but this one clearly has the Seine flowing through Paris as it should, with the island in the middle. The transport lines on it don't seem to match anything I can recognise, neither Metro nor RER, but let's just assume they are the new tram lines that happen to go this way.

Compared to the real thing

Real-life Paris abandoned trams in the 1930s already, being a negative trend-setter there. It didn't help that trams were limited to lower top speeds than buses were at the time. However, since the 1990s, trams have made a huge comeback in the Paris region.

(Aside: Note that I say the Paris region. There's only really one tram line in Paris itself (plus a few stops from the other ones). Where Berlin or London absorbed most of their suburbs at some point in the 20th century, Paris didn't, so the actual Paris part of the Paris region is surprisingly small. That's why Paris has both far fewer and way more inhabitants than e.g. Berlin, depending on what you count.)

Anyway, the tram lines in Paris mostly serve the suburbs, providing tangential connections from one suburb to the next so you don't have to take the metro or RER into the city centre, change at fucking Châtelet-Les Halles, and ride back out again. A unique feature of the the tram network is that each line is separate, with its own tracks and maintenance facilities, and at times very different technologies used. Most of the tram lines don't connect to other tram lines at all, each line is just out there doing its own thing. And since they're out in the suburbs, as a tourist you're unlikely to ever see one if you don't go looking for it.

The exception to that is the T3, divided into T3A and T3B, which runs in a 3/4 circle around Paris along the outer boulevards. The final quarter is where rich NIMBYs live, so it'll be a while until the circle gets closed, I fear.

This actual T3 is run with long bi-directional vehicles with no open platform anywhere in sight, and pleasant but considerably more boring stations. It does have green track (meaning with grass) in many places, though, and it has overhead wires.

In Paris, the trams are used as very long buses (with some overlap with really tiny metros) in underserved areas. Serving areas outside the city core is really the main thrust of Paris transit development at the moment, with a 200 km metro extension, the Grand Paris Express, being built exclusively to better connect the suburbs. This mega project is one of the coolest things happening in public transport anywhere in the world at the moment. The trams augment this.

I do actually think that some trams in Paris's city centre could make sense, to replace the busier bus routes. And there are definitely thoughts about that, but with all the money going towards doubling the size of the Metro, I don't think we'll see that very soon.

The verdict

I like that tram. I don't think it's what Paris would actually have, a longer articulated bidirectional model without a rear platform would make more sense, but I love the quirkiness of it. This season is off to a good start.

[persicipen]

DR. RATIO. HONKAI STAR RAIL ﾉ fem reader ﾉ words 0.7k ✘ so about that headcanon that he has a mole on his dick… that’s his weakness. mentioned long foreplay. panties stay on. very sexy but with a pinch of goofy teasing :3 no proofreading, i needed to get it out of my system before going crazy ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Oh, for sure it wouldn’t be anything quick. He has been working on you diligently with fingertips patting the pearl of your throbbing clit for long, long minutes until you push yourself onto him with your gaze dazed from pleasure, seeking his eyes. With an unattained burn coming from between your sodden folds, you try to coax him into switching from using his hand to his cock.

Seeing the throbbing, fat outline behind the thin veil of his underwear is just too frustrating — so close, yet you can’t do anything about it besides writhing underneath his touch and looking up at him with shiny, hopeful eyes.

“What’s this? Restlessness? Say, for what reason? Have I not already indulged you enough to satisfy your every whim?” he croons with a low hum — fingers coming to a halt in their circular movement around the sensitised bud as if to underline his words. You quiver underneath him from the sensation of loss and let out a frustrated whine.

The side of your neck burns as if seared by a hot iron where his lips press against your skin. His free hand slides over the wet silk of your panties as the one buried between your thighs relentlessly carries on with its slow ministrations, eliciting from you another effort to shift under him so he could feel your pussy against his clothed shaft.

“Veritas, please. Don’t be mean.” A mewl of pleasure and defeat slips from your mouth, not permitted to be spoken, as you turn your face into his hair. “Just until the mole, okay? You know…”

He grunts with difficulty, his blush darkening akin to a ripe peach. There is no need for you to elaborate — it’s all perfectly clear as he withdraws his fingers from your arousal to gently press on your lower stomach. At last, he reluctantly agrees, getting up to reach behind the waistband of his briefs.

Precum pearls on the tip, dribbling down the underside to where his sack is bulging heavily. Without taking his eyes off you, he sets his hand just where his thumb is right next to a small darker dot adorning the flushed skin. After ending the trembling sigh, he grips the base of his cock and starts slowly pumping up and down while gliding back and forth between your clit and your hole.

“Just till there, Veritas,” you repeat with your finger brushing near his thumb over the place where the mole decorates the side of his shaft. Your legs part wider as you throw your head back as the bulbous head pushes into you.

“You are remarkably well-versed in discerning my vulnerabilities. I couldn’t possibly refuse.” A grunt escapes him as he struggles to maintain his self-control. “Mhm, not bad… five points.”

“Silly!” you chuckle and clasp your arms around his neck. Your hips buckle forward involuntarily once he leans more of his weight upon you. “Five points for what?”

The response comes muffled and accompanied by a kiss being pressed onto your temple when Veritas’ forehead rests against it. “Five points for knowing how to persuade me.”

After that, he falls silent. His face turns dark red with a hint of subtle sweetness whilst he glances down where your bodies meet — this little mole on his cock still visible. It makes his muscles spasm with pleasure; and as soon as you clutch at his length, his breathing hitches and turns uneven.

This mark has become something much more intimate than just a discreet part of his appearance.

As a man of science and research, he had already tested it — and without the meticulous preparation, you wouldn’t be able to take enough of his length to make it disappear. Well, not without many slow pushes that get you guarded from the sensation and properly aroused only with time.

A tingly surge ripples through you after the initial stretch. He has been working on you diligently with fingertips patting the pearl of your throbbing clit for long, long minutes solely for this purpose. So he can sink into you smoothly until the mole passes the tight, creamy entrance of your pussy and fades from his sight. You grip his forearm and wrap a leg around his hip for leverage while he slowly adjusts the pace.

“Just like that, ah,” you breathe out upon feeling him bottoming out before being overtaken by an indescribable bliss.

You know — you have never seen him lose control of himself; but once you’ve noticed how he bites his lip and how the vein on his throat protrudes from tension, how his hands squeeze your hips firmly as he thrusts forward, you get that tingle of satisfaction that he’s struggling because of you…

[dilftoru]

Do u have any dad!gojo thoughts to spare? 🥺 craving dad!content atm...

a/n: tbh, this has been in my drafts a while and is only half finished cause i can’t write smut for shit 😭 i don’t think it’s that good but i hope you like it 🤍

papa gojo who feels like a sick perv whenever he helps adjust your clothes.

you had always been a little air-headed, and you never grew out of it. some people were just flat out dumb. and unfortunately, his daughter was one of them. there wasn’t a single thought in your pretty little head, and as much as your daddy found it your most endearing quality, it was also the most frustrating.

you had not a care in the world with the way you presented yourself. it was always tight tops or short skirts with you, and your dumb brain never picked up on the lustful stares you’d receive from men when the two of you walked down the street.

the nerve of those creeps to look at his baby girl like that when he was standing right beside her . . . he could tell you to stop dressing like that outside the house, to only allow it at home where he’d be the one admiring you. but he knew how much you loved expressing yourself through your style and how you insisted that you needed to look cute at all times.

thankfully, he rarely ever let you go out without him. he could only imagine what would happen if his princess were caught alone — he could just kill them all if they looked at you the wrong way . . .

what made it difficult, however, was that you had absolutely no sense of self-preservation, especially around your father. the pout you give him is dangerous, innocently asking for help to tug up your tube top cause daddy had strong hands and your boobs were just too heavy, making it ride down all the time. he’d do it swiftly with minimal effort and you’d squeal, realizing how efficient it is to just have him do it for you from now on.

or like the times the two of you are out in public and you’d bend over in the smallest skirt to pick up something you dropped. daddy was always standing right behind you though, his pelvis hovering just inches away from your crotch so no disgusting creep peeps at his daughter’s skimpy, pink panties — he wouldn’t take a peak either, of course — that he only allowed you to buy cause he was incapable of saying no.

and then it happens once in the small and cramped dressing room at the mall. you call out to him for help, having a hard time clipping on a new bra, bending over as per usual like the clutz you are when the hanger slips from your hands.

the changing space is small as is, an enclosed area with a long body length mirror on one wall and a small, black, cushioned seat to sit when trying on shoes.

he could only gasp as you keel over, hands flying to your waist when your cunt presses directly on his bulge. you wiggle to reach the item that accidentally landed under the short bench, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure to his crotch and he heaves out a stuttered choking sound, looking down at your form with wide eyes behind his dark shades.

“sorry, daddy!”, you whine obliviously from down below. but his muddled brain could barely process it, eyes rolling back at the sensation of your chubby cunt wrapping perfectly around his cock through the layers of fabric, as if it was meant to be there.

his hips buck into yours on its own accord, and you let out a small, surprised shriek, almost tumbling forward in the restricted space if not for the tight grip on your waist. hands that were once occupied with searching for the hanger were now scrambling to clutch onto the low seat in front of you.

your head shoots up to look at your dad in the mirror. as if he was waiting, both of your eyes meet and you take notice of his flushed face.

“d-daddy wha—”

he interrupts you before you can finish, grinding his cock — testing out the overwhelming feeling — into the seat of your panties, hard. a squeak leaves your lips, a shaky hand reaching back and you aren’t sure for what exactly.

there’s a certain gleam in his eyes. daddy’s looked at you like that numerous times in the past, but it would be gone as soon as it came.

now you think you have an idea of what it could mean . . .

[alkelkha]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter four

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

contents&warnings! : wc: 4.0k | post season 2 | lower-case indented | angst | heart to heart | just kiss already 🗣️ | non-sexual intimacy | fluff | mentions of them sharing the same bed | mentions of isha | these losers can't stay serious | yes reader has plot and yes i'm going through with it | not beta read | yes i am making this up along i go | author's note: i'm finally back after a month... don't come after me though! i'm literally in the middle of moving to a whole different state (not my choice).

❛❛ APOLOGIZE WITH FIREWORKS ❜❜

a careless toss of an envelope with this week’s paycheck slid off the desk. your eyes followed the movement. “you’re slacking, [name].” 

you’ve been slacking for the past two weeks. that’s how long it’s been since you and blue fought. you thought that she would come around and the two of you would hang out again like nothing happened, but of course, it didn’t. you were given straight radio silence, you even tried visiting her at her workshop and home. nothing.

she was your best friend and you hurt her to the point she’s shut herself in. was she even in there? was she ignoring you? did she run off? did she hate you now? did you just ruin everything? you couldn’t tell, it was like she locked herself in. this was killing you. 

every since she left it was like all the good things she brought with her did too. the endless laughter between the two of you, the satuation of the world. because of her you finally felt safe, your loan sharks finally stopped bothering you.

sometimes you think you see her (which you don’t). anything blue made you think of her, clouds too. you can’t bring yourself to eat the blue raspberry candy. 

the truth was that she was your good luck charm.

“do you want to lose this job?” big don’s voice rang in the office, snapping you back to reality. lose this job? this was the only job that could help pay off your debt that didn’t involve selling yourself, beating others half to death, and stealing. 

“i’ve been kind to you. i gave you this pussy job so you could pay me back with my own money.” he leans forward resting his clasped-together hands on the desk.

“but i see something,” the tall man raises from his seat. your breath got caught up in your throat and your heart quickened its pace. “…someone has made you sloppy. has taken your attention off of what is really important.” you knew what he meant and you couldn’t deny it. 

you have gotten sloppy with your work, clocking out a little bit early, and coming to work late more often— that was you when you and jinx started hanging out, but since jinx and you have gotten into that fight all of it got worse. “that new girl…” your eyes shot from the ground and straight to big don. the way he referred to her made your stomach turn. was he going to send his goons after her too.

“don’t—“ without thinking you stepped forward, you were about to walk up and slap him. good thing your mind caught up with you. yay, no bullet between your eyes!

“don’t what?” big don shot back at you, he stopped pacing and walked over to you. “run her out of flosnum? tie up the new girl in town? have some of my men give her a good beating? or maybe i’ll make you do that…” gulping at his implication you step back. you knew big don was sick, but surely not that sick?

right?

towering over you, two heads taller his dull dark eyes look down at you, his eyes make you feel so insignificant. you were nothing but a mere worker bee, “[insert sibling] may have escaped off to bilgewater. ixtal? ionia? who gives a fuck anymore. what matters is that one of you is here. one thing stands. your father’s debt.”

“get your act together or you’re on your own.” he then grips your hair, and with a harsh tug he pulls you closer to him. he smelt of cigarettes and mangos, “once you’re on your own i won’t care how and what you do to pay off the debt. sell your body for all i care.”

you left his office and went back to working at the bar. overtime. work for two weeks with no pay as punishment, which was mercy considering you've been waterboarded other times.

though you were starting to consider being waterboarded instead.

how long has it been? she can’t remember, there was no point in counting hours or days when she was in this state. 

her chipped painted nails scratched off her cuticles to the point they bleed. curled up in the middle of her room stuck in an unforgiving daze. a haze that consumed her mind and filled it with thoughts that pricked her brain as if they were needles.

she fucked up. again. and she doesn’t have the guts to try and fix it.

not that there was anything to fix, you were done with her. you hated her. you saw her as insane as soon as you saw her.

she was an idiot to show you that side of her. what made her think that this would be any different? danger or not, flosnum was not immune to her effect. 

her blue chopped hair now grown inches past her ears but not long enough to touch her shoulders, her bangs terribly long, and the purple dye worn out. the bonsai tree on her bedroom windowsill half dead. the irrigating bear under her bed where its voice is too far to catch. 

jinx. that’s who she was. she couldn’t fight it anymore. running from it has been deemed impossible even when she’s a sea away from piltover and zaun. 

metal and wood clanking against each other.

she could hear it, the small huffs, exhales, and sniffles. the light-weight pitter-patter danced around her.

isha.

jinx was greatness to isha. a haven. a symbol. someone worth protecting.

jinx could feel the vibrations from the floor bouncing back to her curled-up position. she had her knees to her chest and hid her face.

she couldn’t bring herself to look up. she was scared that if she looked up she would see her. if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do.

all those times she told off sevika that jinx was dead, isha was the one that kept the image of her alive. not a symbol of destruction— no longer just a loose cannon but a hero. 

powder was the one that died.

she thought that maybe if she could start over, it would all be from the beginning.

no jinx. just powder. the more she stayed on this tropical island she was reminded that she couldn’t be powder. 

to be honest, jinx liked isha’s version of jinx. the version that isha would play games, watch battles fight each other, fall asleep to her overly-dramatized exploits, graffiti on walls, and stargaze with. 

the careless dancing footsteps morphed into cautious ones and the steps were slightly heavier. 

step. step. step.

these footsteps didn’t seem as if they were sneaking up on prey, still, jinx refused to raise her head up from her knees, her eyes stayed shut. 

just ignore it.

she repeated those words, a mantra that got her through a handful of her episodes. unexpectantly, light fingertips grazed her shoulder, unsure if they could go further in the contact. 

hallucinations couldn’t touch her.

a low gentle voice “blue.” jinx felt all of her defenses fall. how pathetic that’s all it took.

you crouched down behind her. jinx’s back faced you, wearing only a pink tank top and wool shorts that showed off the blue clouds on the right side of her body.

the only reason you were able to get in was because you found a foolishly placed spare key sticking out from under a ceramic pot with a wilting flower.

you were tired of waiting.

“i’m sorry.” trying to shove down the heat rising to your face, you swallow. there was nothing more you hated than apologizing, which was ironic since you did it quite often. normally when you did it, it was out of fear or common courtesy.

sincerely apologizing on the other hand? the thought of you being the person in the wrong felt like a punch in the gut, but none of that mattered. 

the only thing you wanted right now was your friend back. “i’m so sorry. that day at the beach when i sighed it wasn’t towards you.” jinx was still. “that day was perfect and i ruined it. i made you feel that i didn’t enjoy it. i did! it’s just—“ you sucked in a breath before explaining.

“…i have a hard time living in the moment, i’m always thinking about my next shift. that i have my shift in this many hours, i’ll have to deal with rowdy customers in less than a day after, i have to pay off my debt.” she didn’t answer, it felt like you were talking to a brick wall.

“ever since you came into my life you have been what i look forward to.”

silence is all she gives you. not even a hum of acknowledgment. “blu—“ you couldn’t finish the nickname because of how shocked you were to see jinx finally turn her head towards you. you can only see her side profile due to the position the two of you are holding. 

the saturation of her vibrant red-violet eyes is now exhausted and dull. an alarm rang in your head. scrabbling from your knees you made it to in front of her to get the whole view of her. you needed to see all of her.

jinx’s closed-off position, her days-old makeup, unkempt hair, and lightweight. her head a bit more raised so she could look at you better as your eyes roamed around her body. 

her eyes.

her eyes were so doe and dull, the manic that she usually held in her eyes was nowhere to be found. this was the most vulnerable you’ve seen her yet there were still so many walls. 

she looked horrible.

you did this.

“[name]…”

her hoarse voice made your heart ache. gulping, pushing down the guilt. you slowly and carefully take her hands into yours. “let’s get you cleaned up, blue.”

the first thing you did was take off her makeup with a wet piece of cloth. you had no idea how long she had been like this, it looks like she had that same face of makeup for almost a week, probably more.

her cheeks were tear-stricken with dried-up mascara and eyeliner. her purple eyeshadow was worn out along with her smudged lipstick.

you washed her hair in the sink. she sat on a chair, her head leaned back as the faucet ran through her blue locks. your hands gently messaging her scalp, and then detangled everything with a brush.

the two of you didn’t talk at all. sitting on a stool your wrist moved in circular motions, washing her back.

she felt herself slowly come back to reality. the way you were being so careful with her as if she was worth being gentle to. were you doing all of this just to torment her?

surely you weren’t faking the affection in your touch? you wouldn’t do such a thing. you couldn’t. 

she felt her eyes burning up.

she felt the rough texture of the cloth exfoliating her skin, your hand carefully leading its way to her tattooed arm. your movements slow not wanting to have her pull away from your touch.

jinx lets out a ragged breath, louder than the scrubbing of her skin and water droplets. that was the first breath she let out since you came to her. your movement paused and went even slower. gentler. 

that’s when she bursts into tears. 

you froze up a bit hearing her choked sobs, “oh hon…” jinx’s shoulder shook as she leaned forward, away from you. her sobs only got louder and louder. saliva collected in her mouth and her face turned a pinkish hue.

putting aside the cloth you took her shoulders and pulled her back towards you, you wrapped your arms around her neck, and your head was right next to hers. “tell me what’s wrong.” you whispered in her ear, you didn’t bother hiding the tremor in your voice.

“please, talk to me. did i make you upset again?” you plead for her to talk to you.

“i’m sorry.” her sobs so broken that her voice cracks as she apologizes. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” she just shakes her head repeating herself over and over again.

“shh.” you say rocking the both of you side to side in an attempt to lull her sobs. “it’s okay, there’s nothing you need to apologize for. we both messed up.”

“i’m such a child, i ruined everything!” she hiccups, her sobs only worsened. she leans on you like a child seeking comfort.

“stop that. you ruined nothing, okay?” you tried to keep your voice firm.

“i made something out of nothing again and i pushed you away and now you hate me—”

you cut her off, “if i hated you would i be here right now?” 

“you will once i mess up again.”

sighing, you pinch her cheek. “it was a silly little fight, we got through it.”

jinx winces at the pinch but she doesn’t pull away instead, her cries lessen and her face scrunches up a bit. “what if we get into another fight?”

not letting go of her cheek you kept speaking, “we’ll get through it. even when i get irritated or mad with you, i’ll always come back to you.” she turns her head and you pull away to give her some space to move.

her eyes were bloodshot, her pink irises sparkled as if she was begging you to confirm your words. “you’re my best friend, things like this will always pass over, i promise.” 

jinx’s sobs were no more and what was left was her small sniffles as you got back to bathing her.

getting back together with you made jinx realize some things.

number one: you would never ever ever ever leave her no matter what! 

this meant she could do anything without you leaving her. like sleeping together in the same bed and kicking you off.

number two: the two of you were practically made for each other!

she has been clinging onto every second of the day and you welcomed it with open arms. (well other than the times she’s stalking you, but you don’t need to know that!) has she gotten more childish with you? maybe.

it was your day off so per usual you were with her, instead of rotting together at her workshop the two of you went out for ice cream and window shopped. the two of you walked side by side in the blazing heat, jinx’s arm hooked on yours. 

usually, she would complain and complain in this weather and end up with sunburns which you had to tend to. these days she wouldn’t, it was like she grew up with flosnum. she wore a mismatched bikini top and stockings, low rise shorts black and pink shorts, and black boots with pink laces. “new style?” you raised a brow.

“just matching the weather.” jinx licks the dripping cotton candy ice cream from her cone. the undercity wasn’t hot like flosnum. it was humid at best but mostly cold. hell, she felt the warmth of sun on her skin more on her first week here than she did her whole life in zaun.

going on your route you spot a jewelry vendor, something catches your eye. mindlessly pulling away from her to go check it out jinx furrows her brows, she follows behind you. your eyes were on the turtle trinket. the jewels on it sparkled like no other.

stupid.

jinx’s finger hooks on the loop of your bottoms and pulls you closer to her side. she bends over a bit to get a better look at the stupid trinket. “oh come on, toots, you don’t need this. you already have that ugly turtle pendant.”

you smack the back of her head and she whines. “my necklace is not stupid!” you defend the bronze hanging around your neck. “besides, i wasn’t going to buy it….” your eyes trail to the price tag, the sight causes you to frown. “way too expensive anyway.” you turn on your heels and walk away from the vendor. 

she watches you walk away and back to the turtle trinket. it was ugly. tacky too. you wouldn’t look good in it.

jinx shrugs and catches up with you, she loops her arm with yours licking her ice cream once again with a stolen trinket in her pocket.

number three: she missed chaos.

because of that, she’s going to blow up at tonight’s festival. she’s been working on it the day after you bathed her, tucked her into bed, and fell asleep in bed with her. which was six days ago.

don’t worry. don’t worry. she’s not going to kill anyone. she was done with that, instead, these bombs were going to make a teenie tiny little mess.

today’s festival was in honor of the day flosnum successfully defended itself against bilgewater, many lives were lost due to the battle. which was an incredible feat now that jinx thinks about it.

anyways, that doesn’t matter! what matters is that she wants to ruin it. 

it’s the most jinx thing she can do.

somehow the paradise was infinitely more vibrant under the dark sky. maybe it was the twinkling stars, the glowing plants, and the fairy lights. everyone gathered in the streets, adorned in tropical garlands. the two of you held a stick, the tip burned bright, sparkling. 

normally, jinx’s mind would be on how gorgeous your smile was, but today she was too excited to even think properly. she was too happy to fuck the celebration up. she had already planted the bombs. 

the air was filled with a sweet and fruity scent of exotic flowers. your sweet laughter echoed in her mind finally snapping her out of it. “what’s got you so happy, blue?” she asked, pointing out her dumb smile.

jinx dropped the stick, “follow me.” she grabbed onto you forcing you to do the same and follow behind her. 

there was so much of everything. people, noise, lights, smells. you canvas through the streets and she takes you onto her workshop’s rooftop. though her workshop was placed in a shady alleyway, the view she had up top was breathtaking.

her rooftop was decorated with random cut-up fabrics, unfinished projects (aka junk but she won’t let you call it that), and colorful lanterns. the stars painted the night sky, the jinx sat on the rooftop ledge. being the more cautious one you tried not to, but she forced you anyway.

“we’re best friends, right?” jinx slowly turns her head to you, your eyes are on the ground, watching the people below. 

“i sure hope so,” you snort. realizing that it wasn’t the right time to joke you backtracked, “of course we are, the best of friends.” you didn’t look back but that didn’t make your response any less sincere.

her red-violet eyes trace your side profile. you were pretty like this, with the colors of the lanterns illuminating off of you. the color blue graced your brown skin and the coils of your hair. it was almost as beautiful as when the sunlight would kiss your skin.

jinx wasn’t sure when it started. “it” being when she became so attentive to you. maybe, it was the day she first saw you behind the counter of her now workshop. maybe, it was the day she crashlanded and you saved her.

the topic of the day she crashlanded was never brought up between the two of you. jinx wasn’t sure if you were aware that she knew.

jinx should’ve forgotten about you that day, her vision was hazy and smoke filled her lungs— her mind shouldn’t even have registered the details of you. but she did.

the key detail she remembered?

it was that stupid bronze necklace.

the ugly piece of metal that is still hanging around your neck. it looks as if it was handmade. well maintained yet specks of chipped-off green paint on the turtle’s shell.

“good,” jinx smiles at your answer. her hand reaches into her pocket and your eyes follow, her fist closed around not letting you know what it is just yet. “because i wanted to give you something.”

your eyes finally lock with hers. “i’m not good with words. i’m not good with my actions either.” her vibrant eyes shift away from yours, but she forces herself to keep eye contact with yours. “i fuck shit up. always. as soon as something good comes in my life it’s taken away, by my hand or something else.”

jinx couldn't find the right words, she didn't even know where she was going with this. “i ruin everything,” she laughed bitterly, her eyes searched yours to see if you were annoyed by your senseless rambling, but you didn’t. you listened, waiting for the next words to come out of her mouth.

“i’m jinxed. it’s in my name.”

jinx looks down at her hand, her fist is holding onto the mystery item tightly. then her fingers hesitantly open up her fist, revealing what’s in the palm of your hand. you look down. this feeling in your stomach, it flips and flutters. “blue, is this—“

“jinx,” she didn’t let you get a sentence in. “that’s my name.”

jinx...so that was blue's name. oddly enough, it fit her perfectly. she didn't look like a sasha, cassie, hannah, or kate. for someone as cool as her she should have an equally cool name.

“that’s so cool!” your eyes twinkle, filled with excitement, completely ignorant to the significance of this moment.

when the words left your mouth jinx left hundreds of degrees hotter. a warmth blazed through her body. no one has ever had this type of reaction to her name.

“so, you’ve been cool you’re whole life, huh?” you scrunch up your face in mock jealousy. “cool hair. cool talents. cool personality. cool name. you’re just a package, aren’t you, jinx?”

why did she like her name coming from your lips so much?

trying to hide her flustered state she puts on a cocky front, “enough of how cool you think i am. are you going to take my gift or not?” she dangles the trinket in front of your face. “you stole it.” you blink at her unamused. still you took it from her hand. “says who? you think i can’t afford something like this?” she tilts her head, raising a brow. 

“then what’s this?” you point to the tag. 

she looks at it and grumbles. after pulling it off she then put on a faux innocent smile. “what’s what?” seeing how your unamused expression didn’t waver she sighed in defeat. “i just wanted to do something for you, you deserve tiny luxuries like this. maybe it could bring you some luck too. a lucky charm.”

her words managed to make you loosen up. your face softens. “thanks, hon, but i already have a lucky charm.”

jinx’s squints her eyes at you, “wait, you do?”

"i'm talking about you, jinx."

jinx, a lucky charm? how ironic. se had always been the cause of trouble, never the solution. when she did try to find one it only made everything worse. but here the two of you are. you hailed her as your lucky charm. a good omen.

she lets out a bark of laughter, she laughs with her full chest. all of this was too surreal it was making her head spin. 

POW POW POW

with distant bangs a cloud of red, then purple, then green, then blue. the town square exploded with a flurry of colorful dust. the dust danced in the sky and fell back down onto the cobbled ground as if it were snowfall.

oh right. jinx forgot about those.

the two of you whip your heads to the noise to see the mayhem going on. 

their faces being painted with the colorful dye. the locals dance and twirl along with the ongoing blasts of the bright vibrant powder into the air. children rushed trying to catch the falling powder, some even making angles on the ground.

your eyes snap wide with amazement at the view, “oh my gods!” no way in hell were you going to miss out on something like this. you carefully get off the rooftop ledge and pull jinx with you. 

“get your ass up, let’s join the fun!”

screams, panicked voices, and people trying to take cover, that’s what jinx expected. not the sound of flosnum residents’ laughter and cheers. her plans to cause chaos failed.

she really was a jinx.

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed @velvetinkbym

[planetception]

Giving Juju Watkins a Lap Dance Headcannons (stripper reader)

Warnings: you're a stripper ig, mentions of nudity, some kind of mention of sex, kinda nsfw but like not nasty

AN: well i've decided to write for juju because there's just a lack of good stuff for her. anyways i hope yall enjoy and as always my requests are open :)

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༊*·˚ ok so starting off, i imagine you're a student at usc (shocking ikr). anyways its like you're a student by day and stripper by night

༊*·˚ ofc you know who the juju watkins is... i mean who doesn't? anyways this is just plot so moving on

༊*·˚ after another phenomenal game from juju, a few of her friends decide it's a great idea to book a little suit at the strip club that you dance at. being an athlete she was allowed to get in even if she was not 21 yet

༊*·˚ basically your boss assigned you to this little party. anyways the room had its private stage and stuff.

༊*·˚ so yeah, you start dancing seductively, even taking your top off. boobs spilling out of your almost too small of a bralette, making direct eye contact with a blushing juju.

༊*·˚ biting your lip you came down from the pole and walked down the stage, heading towards another pole. the girls started to throw money at you while you were grinding up against the pole.

༊*·˚ you were in a rhythm, tits out, money being thrown at you, gliding against the cold metal. the only thing covering your body was a tight light semi see through pink thong, paired with long high heels.

༊*·˚ you bit your lip again as you hopped off the stage and walked towards juju. once over there, you put your middle finger below her chin, pulling her head up to meet yours

"hm why so nervous sweetheart?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "maybe a dance will help clear up some nerves?" you asked again. this time pulling her face forward.

༊*·˚ the basketball player nodded before you found comfort in her lap. you started to grind against her as you gave her a sensual lap dance, you were finding your rhythm as you got off her and bent over, revealing your perfect ass

༊*·˚ poor girl didn't even know what to do with herself. she couldn't help but just look at your ass, your hips, the way your thong was just so tight. her friends were egging her on to touch you

༊*·˚ i just imagine she would have enough of teasing and grab you by the hips, pulling you back down on her lap. she would slightly thrust her hips up a little just to meet yours

༊*·˚ you just continued to give her one of the best lap dances of your career, just letting her touch you all over the place

༊*·˚ eventually you concluded your little show, getting off of jujus lap you bit your lip again before slapping your ass and walking back up the stage and back to the pole as you started to dance again. making sure that your full attention was on juju

༊*·˚ later on in the night, her friends wanted to leave. thus concluding the little party, however you stopped juju and grabbed her by the chin again

"i can show you a better time back at my place sweetheart... give you a bit more, sexual dance?" you whispered into her ear as you shoved a little paper into the pocket of her pants containing your number.

"just stay here until after my shift... then we can go have some more fun, i'll even let you touch these." you whispered again, grabbing her hand and placing it on your boobs.

༊*·˚ you walked away, putting your top back on and grabbing the money that was thrown at you and tucked it into your thong and top.

༊*·˚ after your shift, you went to go meet juju in the private room before taking her home and giving her a bigger and better performance. right in the comfort of your own place

༊*·˚ when juju leaves in the morning, you make sure she keeps your contact in her phone. once she gets into her uber you send her a message

"had fun last night, call me when you want some fun xoxo ; )"

༊*·˚ followed up by a photo of you grabbing your boobs and squeezing them, bite marks and hickeys littered your perfect tits and you wouldn't have it any other way

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um... somehow i feel this is way more freaky than my caitlin headcannons i did a while ago. anyways i hope you all enjoy my fuckery and there will be more of this coming i guess. thanks for reading!

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ One Drunken Night (Sevika x Reader) ✞⛧

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Impulsive behavior, Intoxicated actions, Slight awkwardness

The Leaky Drop is packed tonight, the murmur of conversations blending with the low hum of music and clinking glasses. The air is thick with smoke, and the dimly lit atmosphere is a stark contrast to the chaos that waits for you both when you leave. But for now, the noise and the warmth of the alcohol make it easy to forget everything. Easy to forget about work, about what’s been eating at you lately.

You glance over at Sevika, who’s nursing her drink, calm as ever. She’s got that usual, hard edge to her—like she’s a woman who’s never let her guard down a day in her life. But tonight, there’s a flicker in her eyes. Maybe it’s just the alcohol doing its job, loosening everyone up, but something feels different.

You take a swig from your glass, trying to shake off the weight of everything else. The drink burns as it slides down your throat, and you’re vaguely aware of how it’s already starting to affect you. The world’s tilting, the words are slurring a bit when you speak, but that’s okay. It’s just a night. One night to forget everything and have some damn fun.

“You’re unusually quiet tonight,” you say to Sevika, trying to keep the conversation going. She’s always the quieter one when you two go out, but there’s something in her silence tonight that’s making you curious. Maybe it’s the alcohol loosening your tongue more than you’d like.

She glances at you, but only for a second before her eyes drop back to her drink. “Not much to say.”

You raise an eyebrow, your grin slipping past the tipsy barrier of politeness. “Not even after I saved your ass last week?” You laugh, but it’s a little too loud.

Sevika looks up at you, her gaze sharp but with that little gleam in her eyes that betrays her amusement. She sets her glass down with a quiet clink. “I don’t need saving,” she says, her voice low but there’s something playful in it.

“Oh, sure you don’t,” you reply, leaning in slightly, grinning even wider. “You’re a real tough one.”

Sevika doesn’t say anything, but her lips curl just a bit, a fraction of a smirk. It’s enough to make your stomach flip. The tension between you two is always there, simmering under the surface, but never fully breaking through. You’re partners. You have to keep it professional. But tonight, there’s no professionalism. No work. Just the moment, the alcohol, and the little spark in her eyes that makes it impossible to ignore.

Before you can stop yourself, before your brain can catch up with your body, you find yourself leaning forward. “You’re not as tough as you think, Sevika,” you mutter, your voice quieter now, the words almost daring her to react.

Her eyes lock onto yours, and the air feels thick with something unspoken. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but that’s all you need.

And then, just like that, your lips are on hers.

It’s impulsive. Wild. Reckless. And it’s not like you’ve never thought about it before—those moments when the tension between you two would flare up and make your chest tighten with the thought of crossing that line. But now, here, in the Leaky Drop, with the smell of alcohol and smoke surrounding you, you’ve finally done it.

The kiss is sloppy, unpracticed. The alcohol dulls your senses, making everything seem far away, but you feel her lips under yours. Her breath catches for a moment, and then it’s gone—she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t flinch. Instead, she’s still, her body rigid for a split second before she exhales slowly. But still, she doesn’t push you away.

It feels like everything inside you is alive—your heart racing in your chest, your body pulsing with the rush of it. The kiss deepens just for a second before your mind catches up with what the hell you’re doing.

You pull away just as suddenly as you kissed her, blinking in confusion, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“Ha… Haha,” you laugh, though the sound is more awkward than anything. You try to gather your wits, but the room is spinning too much for you to focus. “I—” You shake your head, still chuckling, your mouth dry as you mutter, “I had the balls to do it, huh?”

Sevika doesn’t respond right away. You risk a glance at her, and her expression is unreadable. You try to stand tall, but your legs wobble beneath you, your head fuzzy with the effects of the alcohol. The room spins around you as you brace yourself on the table.

“Alright, alright,” you mutter to yourself, chuckling again. “Guess that’s that, huh?”

Sevika doesn’t even flinch. She’s just staring at you, her eyes calculating, weighing something that you can’t understand. The intensity in her gaze is enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

“Didn’t think you had it in you,” she says, her voice quiet but edged with something that could be amusement—or maybe something more dangerous.

You smile weakly, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, well… sometimes I surprise myself.”

The room keeps spinning, and the weight of it all settles in your chest. Your head feels like it’s made of lead, your vision swimming in and out of focus. You try to sit back down in your seat, but your legs betray you, and you slouch onto the table instead.

“Guess I’ll just… sleep here,” you mumble, your head hitting the wood with a soft thud. You don’t even have the energy to care. Your body’s shutting down, the alcohol’s grip on you too strong to fight.

You hear Sevika’s voice from somewhere far away, low and steady, though you can’t quite make out the words. “Get some rest,” she says, but there’s no judgment in her tone, no anger. Just… something.

But you’re too far gone. Your mind’s already slipping away as you let the alcohol take over. The last thing you remember is her figure in your blurred vision—her steady presence, even as you pass out, face down on the table.

And despite everything, you feel oddly content. Oddly… peaceful. Maybe that kiss was a mistake, but for now, it’s one you’ll let linger. Even if it’s just a blur of alcohol and unspoken emotions.

As the world fades into darkness, you can almost swear you hear her chuckle quietly, but you don’t have the strength to acknowledge it.