#I also made his left eye smaller than the right ignore that

[karmathehalflander]

Carved Venom into a pumpkin! Accidentally used permanent marker to make the guide lines so he’s got some weird stray marks but he looks fantastic in the dark.

[cherryspicest]

Silent Desires

BLACKPINK Rosé x Male Reader 13.6k words

It took quite a long time before I managed to finish this. Kinda struggled with the smut part since I'm not really used on writing one and it was my first time. Of course, still learning.

Was also kinda lazy to proofread it since I have no much time left to do it. PC monitor is broken as well.

The house perfectly matched what you imagined back in Indonesia: two stories painted in blue, and visible wood planks on walls. That one alone window on the second floor must be your bedroom. It had curtains so you thought it might be. Black water filled the canals below and it stretched up to four blocks from your right. It wasn’t smelly, but sure was dirty. 

The driver helped carry boxes containing your stuff from home, some were heavy and not, and those light ones were under your carry. When you asked him to place it at the front door, he refused and insisted on placing it inside the living room instead. He was taller than you, a visible look of a state man on his face. Usually they’d wear red caps during work like what TV shows would portray. 

Amid work, you saw the neighbor on your right took out a black garbage plastic that was twice the size of her width, and she struggled to carry it inside the garbage can. She was slender, had her hair dyed whitish purple, and a hint of Asian in her eyes. She wore a white top with thin black sleeves covering her arms, and denim shorts that exposed her pretty legs. They were mesmerizing. But you didn’t want to look like a creep either. Seeing her glance at you, you waved your hands. Hoping for atleast a smile or a wave back, you didn’t get one. She chose to ignore your greeting as she headed back to her house. Maybe she was blind or her eyes were blurred, so you didn’t take that bad too much. But the feeling of rejection still hits you like a train. 

When all boxes were brought inside, the driver returned to his van and waved goodbye before pulling off. Took hours before every item from each box was pulled out, fixed in places and corners. Most furniture was made in tarnished wood. They were elegant.

The sun had started to set, you could see it by the orange clouds and vibrant violet skies outside your window. It was your first sunset in Canada and you loved the scenery. They seemed like perfect wallpapers you'd see on the Internet. 

You stepped outside for fresh air and saw the girl at the right house once again. She sat on the doorway stairs, shading below the black roof. She must’ve not seen your greeting awhile ago, it must’ve been an unintentional ignore. You were shy, everyone would do, but in fear of being a loner you chose to overcome it.

A grass field separates your houses, but only a few steps, like thirty or thirty five steps from yours. She kept her composure and watched your presence coming to her property, a toothpick in her mouth. Her eyes behind those specs remained unwelcoming and a lingering bitchiness within. 

“Hey there um. . . I’m your new neighbor by the way on your left so I guess it wouldn’t be bad if I introduce myself to you aye?” You began, keeping your tone calm and friendly. Behind you were nervous and shy.

She played with the toothpick with her tongue, moving it from the left to right corner of her mouth. Her eyes gazed into yours and there was silence for seconds. When you tried to talk again, she interrupted you.

“Too bad for you I don’t talk to strangers” She answered with an Australian accent, so she must be an Aussie.

“I mean like at least-“

“I don’t . . . Talk to strangers.” She stood up. She was slightly smaller than you, but she had the height. Walking slowly towards you, you began to step back. “Do I have to repeat it again to you Mister? I don’t have time for these corny things. If you’re a new bird here, keep it that way as long as you don’t bother me.”

“Alright chill” You raised both palms. “I’m sorry for disturbing you Ma’am.”

You began to walk away while she kept her eyes at you, standing firmly, watching you disappear on her property. You must’ve been so lucky to stumble upon a kind of person on your first day. They said Canadians are welcoming and appreciative, but it seemed it was all a scam. 

It was a slight struggle to forget that interaction, but soon you’ve moved on. Days continued with cleaning and adjusting to the new surroundings. The town near the village had good amenities and stores to buy goods from, and you realized the currency seemed low, then you also remembered it’s pricey when converted into your currency.

 Each day you’d walk past her house, you can’t resist looking for her presence. She was pretty, everyone would agree, some might not, but in your eyes she was, though her attitude said otherwise. 

Days continued with no interaction with the neighborhood. A day later it was time for the first day of class. You jumbled through your closet, finding your best outfit. You wore a simple black oversized T-shirt and cargo pants, like your usual outfit when going out on malls with your parents. But it was a weird feeling to wear civilian clothes on normal days of school. In your country they’d require you to wear a uniform in some cases.

The university looked like an old British house. The walls were made in bricks, and pillars were carved in vertical strips, colored in white gloss paint, that held up much of the entrance shade. Students walk past you. They were tall; it was expected.

The first subject was Science, and it took minutes before you could’ve reached your classroom. You had to ask some professors for the room direction, told you to walk 2 floors above, then turn right, saying you’d see a cone bush at the front of the door; which was on the corner near it. As you entered the classroom, you sat on the seat near the window, third row from the blackboard. Shelves stood at the back most of the classroom. Frames of old looking people hanging on the side walls with their names below of their faces. ‘Jonathan’ if you had read some of their names correctly.

It all started with introductions and knowing each other. Some were old students so they had formed a bond already. Learning you were from Asia, they seemed surprised. When you returned to your seat, someone had already sat beside you. His name was James when you asked. He was friendly, his vibe was cool enough to make you feel comfortable to talk. 

During break, he had opened up most of the happenings around the school, and some students you need to avoid stumbling into. Sounded like a cliche school scenario, but it’s the states. Three women walked over the corridor, catching most of the students eyes around the area, even the both of you.

“Who are those? They look Asian.”

“Like you, yes” James continued. “That’s Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie. One of the popular girls around the campus, obviously. All of them were sophomores.” 

“So they are Asian?”

“I just said it a second ago.” He glanced at you. “There used to be four, until that issue happened. She goddamn disappeared like a rat from a cat.” 

“You know what happened?”

“I don’t know man, I ain’t touching other’s shit. But I’ll tell you, she’s hella pretty. That Australian ‘yaur’ and ‘wotah’ would make you impressed if you’ve only reached that time when she was here.” 

Once they disappeared on your sights, you both continued your way back to the classroom. 

You thought everything seemed to flow smoothly, until you met this group of boys who had entered the classroom late. They didn’t approach nor face you, but the way they gave you those eyes was enough for you to understand; not friendly. You didn’t mind and pretended they didn’t exist.  Few hours had passed, Monday class had come to an end, and you and your friend had separate ways at the intersection near the school.

On you walk home, you saw the neighbor girl once again. The sun had set down, but it was not hard to familiarize her face on the dim. She sat on the same spot, a toothpick in her mouth, and wore her thin framed specs. You wanted to ignore her presence but she’s just too attractive to resist, and when she caught your eyes, trying to land a quick glance at her, you just bowed. 

As usual, you received nothing but eyes and silence. 

Back in your house you finished the first assignments of the day, it was History and Science, so it took much time despite its simple instructions. You heard voices outside your window. You were confused. The moon had shone brightly between dark clouds, and it’s eleven in the night. You peeked over your window and saw a SUV parked in front of your neighbor’s house, its headlights lit. Three women stood and one of them rushed your cold neighbor into a hug. They wore fancy clothes, like in a club or party. 

You watched closely and realized they were the same girls you’ve seen back in the corridor. And when they all stepped inside, you finally pulled away. You remembered what James said, the girl who had left their circle and decided to not go to school anymore, and maybe she was that woman who chose to rot in her house instead. Maybe yes, maybe not. Questions lingered in your mind as you packed up your things for tomorrow, then later you found yourself sleeping in your bed. 

Tomorrow was the same usual day, but things went sideways when the arrogant looking boy group came to approach you while you scrolled through your phone on your seat. 

“Hey man, heard you’re the new rice eater around the campus again huh?” He grinned, his tone sarcastic. “So, how tho?”

“What how?” 

“I mean . . . How you get into this school? I don’t remember that it’s easy for people like you to attend  here.”

“Ah? By having a brain, I guess?”

He chuckles and looks back at his friends; who were grinning along with him. You reminded yourself to stay low and humble. You wanted to be known on campus, like a popular one, just like how you were known as the “Friendly guy” in your old school. And once you made a big mistake with these morons, it'd put you into a crumpled outcast inside the university. 

“Alright, they like your answer rice boy, but I don’t. ” He scoffs, giving light nods. “Here, if you’re trying to act cool and shit here, it won’t work. So don’t start something that people would  hate you for. I’m just reminding you boss, not threatening you. As long as you play with the system around here, you’re fine, aye?”

You nodded slowly, though deep inside you’re annoyed; you hated getting into a situation like this. You felt like getting controlled or so what, and for the sake of your positive look from the other people you just agreed to his terms. 

James accompanied you most of the school hours. The Math professor was absent today, so you found yourselves sitting on the bench outside, in the park.

“So you met Deandre?” He opened up

“Yeah, he’s the bully in the classroom right?”

“Sort of. Like man, that dude came from a wealthy family so of course his attitude would be obviously like that. You remembered what you saw yesterday?”

“The girls?”

“Yeah those fine ladies, he dated one of them. I don’t remember who, but he did. So yeah, he became more known to the campus until his ego just went” He mimicked a plane with his hand and raised it upwards, making a swooshing sound.

“Well about the girls, you told me that the woman who left was ‘Aussie’ right?” You remembered last night’s event. Jisoo, Jennie and Lisa, they were three, but still unsure. They had given the vibe. 

“I guess? She had the accent, so yes. Why?”

“Well I have this neighbor who speaks with that accent as well. She looks cute, and tall. You know these cute girls with specs.”

James scoff, shaking his head. “Nah man, I doubt it’d be Rose. She had left Canada already and maybe returned to her hometown.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m just assuming too much.” 

So days continued like this. James has been by your side most of the time, and you met some new friends along the classroom. Clifton, Julia, and Tyrone, that’s where their names are. They were old students who began here three years ago. They had formed bonds already, knowing each other before you could have, but you didn’t mind. Every new bird starts with this. 

Yet there were the morons who never stopped bothering you. During breaks, when you’re alone, they’d come and ask for some extra lunch or snack. It’s not a sort of bullying way where they’d punch you suddenly, but more like they’d threaten you when you don’t contribute; telling you they’d frame you up for stealing someone’s snack from their bag. James couldn’t do anything as well, as much as he wanted to help, he knew what this group of dick heads could do if you’d go against them. 

Remembering their words, just go with the flow. You’re not some sort of a main character where punching them would turn you into a superstar

As usual, there were no changes with your interactions with the cute neighbor. Every time you’d walk past her house, sometimes you’d see her outside on the usual spot she’d sit in. Exchanging glances on each other, you were used to it, and every day that passed by, having the same usual empty interaction, you began to feel tired of chasing your wanted friendship until you start ignoring her. 

One night you walked home late. You stayed in the library for a long time without realizing it. You also didn’t want to skip a gym session, so you worked out around seven in the night, then finished by nine already

You saw her at the front of her property talking to two guys, one stood behind her. They had bandanas around their forehead. They wore baggy denim shorts and some sleeves that had pockets on the chest part, where one pulled a cigarette box out from it. You walked slowly to watch the scenario, it’s strange to see her talk to someone else anyways. 

The guy behind grabbed her arm forcefully and she tried to resist but was not deemed enough to match a moron’s strength.  The man on the front lit the cigarette in his mouth, a hint of glow in the stick, and right as he came closer he blew smoke at her face. You kept your composure and thought she must owe them something, but then the discomfort in her eyes, pleading for help, left you no choice but to save her.��

“Yo leave the girl alone.” You said as you approached, your tone calm. A hint of frustration when they looked at you in unison, despite your neighbor’s arrogant attitude, you felt the sense of needing help in her eyes. 

“Who are you, punk?” The white man with the cigarette answered as he faced you, taking another in his cigarette. “Never seen your face around here yet?” 

“You don’t need to know who I Am bro, just leave her alone.” 

“And what will happen if I don’t?” He slowly clenched his fist, you noticed it. And as he slowly took a step forward, you reached out to your pocket and pulled out the butterfly knife you loved playing with. Their courageous eyes turned hesitant when they noticed, and as you spun and free styled the blade he took a step backwards. 

You took a step forward, and they flinched when you feinted them. Just a bunch of dick-heads they were, acting strong but lacking action. 

“You’re lucky, woman” The guy who held her arm said as they left the both of you, running across the empty street.

You watched them disappear from the darkness. Your neighbor slowly looked at you. Hoping for some kind thanks or appreciation for saving her life, well you didn’t get it, again. 

“I can handle myself, why do you have to butt in.” She hissed and walked back to her house.

“What’s your problem?” You raised your voice. “Thanking is the least thing you can do, why do you have to be this shit ass?” 

She ignored your words, shut the door closed, and the lights from her door disappeared. Guess helping her was not the right move to earn her trust. Since the start she was this toxic, she never changed, and to think she’s just alone in this house without anyone visiting her but her friends completely gives the reason. You’re tired of chasing her. She’s not worth it anyways. It’s better to be independent than to chase some person who doesn't give a single shit at you. 

In your bedroom, you were about to sleep. Move your circular pillow and unroll the blanket wide. You were still bothered by the past hour scenario and worried they might come back, so you took a quick peek at her house from your curtains. It’s just that you’re worried about some bad things that may happen during the night and who else could know what those assholes have been running in their minds right now. 

When you saw the lights from her bedroom shut, you finally laid back and slept the night away. 

The next day at the school, a seminar was held at the gymnasium where most students were required to be at the place. Chattering and noises filled the whole gymnasium. You and your new group of friends sat together at the upper box, third row, enough to see the announcer deliver his words from the court floor.

You saw the three ladies once again sitting in the same row as yours. The morons were there as well, staying by their side, one guy carried the short hair’s bag. Were they some sort of servants? No they were not when you saw the guy who threatened you rest his arm around the cat shaped eye girl’s seat. She was fine with it, smiling at him despite the corniest move a guy would do. 

Then you met them later again in the corridor as you stepped out from the male’s comfort room. The girls were with them, stood by their side and one behind. Your eyes met Deandre’s, it was full of wickedness, and a smirk forming in his lips. 

“Yo rice boy, what’s good? Can help me out for some slight extra money? You know it would be bad if I’m left hungry for the day.” He began. “Just a little you know? I mean not that I have no money, but at least . . . An extra?”

“Sorry bro, I can’t help you with that.” You forced a smile and began to walk out. Then he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, making you stop. 

“Come on bro” He softened his voice that only you could hear. “Remember what I said back then? I bet you wouldn’t like the consequences when you don’t provide something, right?”

And there you are, stupid enough to give half of your brought money in your wallet. Following the system, the same thing that runs in your mind over and over again for the sake of your dream popularity. Nice guy in a jean jacket, that’s what you wanted. Their eyes locked on you while you walked out, keeping your friendly vibe despite the anger boiling inside you. 

Days turned into weeks, and you received the same usual treatment from them all over and over again. You just seemed to be these morons play toy. Every time you’d walk back home, it’s always frustration that you’d bring, that you just wanted to beat them until they begged crying on the floor. If it weren’t for your scholarship that required you to behave and act like a chained goat around crocodiles, then you would have shown those morons what they deserved.

As well, you continued to ignore your ‘appreciating’ attitude neighbor. Between those days, you were used to it, and then you felt it’s something normal you’d do. Until one day, while walking back home, she approached you with crossed arms in the middle of the street. The sun had started to set down on the thick, dark clouds like it’s clinging on its own. She wore a simple black shirt and denim shorts.

She pulled out a few money bills from her pocket and reached it at you. “Here.”

“For what? ”

“For saving me last week.” 

“No need, thank you anyway.” You began to walk.

“I’m just returning what I owe you.” She continued, and you paused. 

“I don’t look like money, Miss. I just did what a normal person would do—help somebody who’s in distress. I didn’t do that to impress and such. Just take your money.”

“Every Monday, you’d walk past my house between five and six in the afternoon. Then, all of a sudden, you appeared nowhere on the street at nine? ”

“And you’re assuming I'm stalking you? ” 

“I didn’t say anything, boy?” 

You groaned. “You know what? A simple thank you will end this conversation instead. Besides, I won’t even have a conversation with someone like you anyway.”  

“Hm? Thank you, my neighbor superhero; that’s what you want to hear, right? ”She forced a smile, narrowing her eyes. “Plus, why do you even want to be friends with me in the first place? You boys are just the same. Tell me you’d be friends with me, then I get comfortable with you, let you inside my house, and then we wait to invite each other to fuck in each other’s mouths in my bedroom. That’s your plan, isn't it? ”

You scoffed. “This woman is ridiculous.”

“Don’t act blurry, Y/N. You guys have the same minds when it comes to meeting girls.” She tilts her head, keeping her gaze. Though she’s pretty and her pair of alluringly slender legs, it never came to your mind to fuck her somewhere else around.

“Alright, you're generalizing too much. Look Miss, I just want to be friendly to the people around me. You’re my neighbor ma’am. The lot on my left is empty, and you’re the only person I could talk to around this place. Isn’t that hard to understand?” You answered. “And, did you just call me by my name?”

She kept her composure, not even saying a single word. 

“See, I must be right, you are friends with the famous girls in the university. That night, I saw three girls visit you in your house. There are three as well in the school: Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, and you’re probably the Rose that James was talking about.” 

“So what?”

“So what? It means that you’re just one of them. A bunch of assholes that make fun of students not popular as you all do, and abuse their souls out just because they don’t fight back.”

“Oh, I’m an asshole now?” She took a step forward and landed a push on your chest. “Talk shit at me if you don’t put your ass down when Deandre is around you.”

“I ain’t a coward around him, don’t you dare call me that.” You pointed at her.

“Then what do you call yourself then?”

“I’m doing it on purpose. I just want . . . “ You cut yourself off. Opening up your dream of being a popular boy in the university will just ruin your image more at her. “I’m doing it for my scholarship. You think I’d still be here if I punched him in the ground?”

“A scholar?’ She scoffed and glanced around her surroundings. “Poor for you, you have to endure that. So don’t cry on me that you’re experiencing those. You chose this University, face the consequences then.”

She might sound aggressive, but some of her words were right. Her last phrase ‘ you chose this university and face the consequence ‘ hit you. You wanted to experience life in the west because you saw how most of your relatives seemed to enjoy their lives here. Luxurious sedans, modern houses, that’s what you saw most in their pictures. Then you wished to apply your school experience here from your hometown thinking it’d just be the same. 

You had mixed feelings with your encounter with Rose; disappointment and excitement. She was fierce and straightforward. Up close, you wouldn’t expect such an attitude from her gorgeous visuals. You wondered if she had a boyfriend, or probably no one would even wonder with her arrogant attitude. 

She was annoyingly attractive. 

The next day, it was Saturday, so you had no classes. You finished all your assignments right away before so you wouldn’t worry about chasing papers to your professors. You went for a jog around the village, no streets were missed to walk into. Most houses were colored assorted but had the same design as yours and Rose’s. 

Finishing your lap, you walk past Rose’s house and see her garage door lifted open. It wasn’t hard to see her in the dim, and when you got close, just under the garage door, you saw her fixing a vehicle’s engine. The car was purple, you could tell beneath those dusts, and looked like a mustang built from 80’s

Black stains marked her arms and gray shirt. She wore baggy pants and a cap, her pony tail squeezed between the cap’s closure. She noticed your shadow from the floor and quickly looked back with her wrench pointed at you.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a warning tone. There was visible tiredness within her eyes. 

“Are you trying to fix your alternator?”

“Why do you care?”

“Maybe I can lend some hand for you, I missed doing mechanical work, especially with cars and stuff.” You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms.

“I don’t need.” She turned back and continued her hands on the engine. You just watched her, she said no and you wouldn’t want to be an annoying fly that would force yourself into her. 

Several seconds later, there was a spark and she squealed, pulling her arms away quickly and moving from a distance. Her eyes slowly looked at you, her face fresh from shock. 

“You just made the scenario worse.” You stepped in and took a look at her engine, where you noticed a red wire with little smoke in it. “Worse thing is, you’re trying to check every wire in here when this red wire has visible tears on it.”

“What are you saying?” She gave you a look as if you’re saying bullshit, still standing at the same spot.

“Your alternator is shorted. So you might need to get yourself a new wire for this.”

She slowly took her steps closer and stood beside you, picking the red wire where the smoke had fully disappeared. She watched it close, then her eyes shut as a sigh escaped her mouth. 

“You can buy some wires there in town. Just gotta tell the staff there this and that and you’re good.” You began to walk away 

“Shit.” She groaned, then turned to look at you. There was frustration in her tone. “Alright, can you do me a favor?”

“Favor? I thought you didn't need my help?”

“Come on, please don’t be dick head for now.” She hisses.

“I’m now the dick head between us now huh? After talking shit at me yesterday?”

“Y/n!” She widened her eyes, warning you.

“Now, you’re turning the tables again” You scoff, then reach your palm at her. “Money.”

“I don’t have cash right now.” She dug her hands in her pockets. “I’ll just pay you in some way, Just-“ She groaned. “ Buy me the wire for now.”

Well, you couldn’t resist her. She had this sort of lack of temper management, maybe only to you or   to everybody, but yet you still find it attractive and hot. The wire shouldn’t cost much of your cash so you agreed with her request.

It only took around ten minutes to find the exact wire from mechanic shops and later you arrived back at her house. The wire cost two and a half dollars. You bought two in case things went sideways, you knew how Rose would obviously act if it did so. 

“You sure this is it?” She looked up at you.

“Yeah. I told him my boss would kick me out of the house if he gave me the wrong one.”

She chuckles, it was your first time seeing a smile form in her lips and it was beautiful. You hoped you’d see more of it. You began to step out of her garage again and her face became intrigued, 

“Where are you going?” She asks.

“Home, why?”

“Did I tell you to?”

Your brows furrowed. “Are you my mommy or something?”

“No, but you can’t just leave right away.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head, resting a hand over the car’s grills. “So you can just walk away from your asshole neighbor that easily?”

“Probably yeah, I hate assholes.” You grinned and she turned her back at you, continuing her hands on the car. You heard her talking with her head ducked inside the engine.

“Alright, stick with your decision then. ” 

You left out a quick chuckle at her before you walked away from her garage. The sun had shown a great promise above the skies where you wanted to get off right away under its burning rays. Before you would have reached the tree near your house you heard Rose make a loud “ow” that sounded like a moan and groan at the same time. It sounded good, you didn’t deny. There was this sort of excitement inside you when you heard it, but still it’s just bad. 

You ran back then found her at the same spot, her head still ducked in the car’s engine, and when she noticed your shadow she slowly looked back. 

“What happened?” You asked worriedly. 

“Why are you here?”

“I heard you just yell or so and I thought that something happened to you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to help me.”

You glanced away. “Human instinct bro. I mean come on, even a stray ass dog will come here when you yell like that. So what happened?”

She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I hit my head? Lost a finger, popped my eyeballs out.”

“What the hell is that answer?” 

She rolled her eyes and threw the wrench at your front. “I obviously need help, asshole. Why the hard to get behavior?” 

“I’m not.” You picked up the wrench and slowly stepped into her garage once again. “It’s you who’s doing it. Acting arrogant the whole time then turns into a little pup when things go down.”

She pushed your arm and it left a black stain on your gray tee. “Yah? Calling me a little pup as if you’re not one as well in your school, huh?”

“I’m just doing it for the sake of my scholarship and dream popular-“ You quickly stopped when you realized you slipped off your greatest secret, but it seemed too late already you saw her eyebrows raised and she chuckled.

“Popularity? So you want to be a popular guy huh?” She covered her mouth, and you watched her giggle in amusement. “This dude what the hell?” 

“Alright, laugh all you want.” 

She continued laughing at you, placing continuous taps over her car. You felt embarrassed that you wanted to squeeze yourself into a tin can, never to be found again. Was this a turn off? Nevertheless, you began fixing and removing the old wires of the alternator of her car, making yourself busy at least. 

“Yeah yeah.” She finally uncovered and heard her sniff. “Fucking hilarious, that is something that a nerd guy would dream in a high school musical. Damn boy, I never thought you’d be funny” She stood beside and noticed your silence. “Wait, so you’re not joking?”

When you didn’t answer, she placed another push on the same spot, turning the stain even darker. 

“Don’t make a fool of yourself, Y/n.” She said between chuckles. “Tell me that you need bitches without actually telling me you need bitches.”

“Hey?” You paused while ducking in. “That’s not the point why I want to be. To be honest, I don’t need one.” You lied. Though you wanted one, maybe someone like her or either herself. She gives this bitch vibe who’d you call ‘mommy’ and kneel upon while she verbally or physically abuses you. She’s hot as hell. 

“And that’s something a bitchless guy would say in a girl so he’d feel like ‘I’m manly and tough, I don’t need girls in my life because they’re bunch of useless beings’ “

 You tapped the battery with the wrench, sounding a ‘ting’, and you stood straight. “You know what, I’m done. Fix it yourself.”

“Oh no, baby boy is crying again.” She made a mocking sad face. “Did I hurt his feelings again?” 

“It’s just annoying that you’d always make me look like I’m some weak ass shit who couldn’t do anything.”

“I did not say you are, and plus I’m just stating the facts based on my experiences.” She snatched the wrench out from your right hand, then moved closer at you.”They’d tell me the same sentences all over again thinking they’ll impress me.” She squints her eyes, tilting her head. Her hair brushing over your hand. “But guess who’s falling into their knees at the end? Calling me ‘Mommy’ while I ruin their mental shits out and even with those they’d still always look for it.” Her voice became soft, a lingering mischief within her tone.  “Seems like I’m pretty irresistible right?”

You were frozen, and at the same time you’re lowkey enjoying the moment with her hidden side. 

“Why aren’t you answering, you know I hate these kinds of people who leave me hanging.” She added while she kept her eyes locked on yours. 

You shook your head to snap yourself back to reality, you were falling into her trap or some sort of hypnotism. She’s too alluring, every second you’d feel something pulling you into placing your lips on hers. 

“Whatever, I’ll just finish this” You ducked back below the hood, continuing your hands on the wires. “I still have a meeting later.”

She scoffed. “It’s Saturday dumb ass.”

“Meeting isn’t always related to school.”

“As if I knew it?”

So you stayed by her side most of the day, fixed her broken mustang’s alternator, then had small conversations with her. You were getting dirty every hour. The amount of dust, dried oil stains and burnt ashes all over, but you didn’t care anyways. She had treated you to lunch, surprisingly for her, and you’re starting to see her bright personality on every hour that passes by. You thought James lied. 

When you got some water inside her house, you saw notebooks and pens on her desk and the lamp light lit open. Most books had your university’s name on it.  A brown acoustic guitar with a capo stood beside the desk. She plays instruments? Damn she’s just attractive.

Finally, you had replaced all the broken wires with new ones and when you told her to start it up, the mustang came into life, roaring while the engine shook within the rhythm. She squealed in happiness. You saw her covering her mouth from the windshield while she enjoyed the view inside like a kid who sat in a Lamborghini for the first time of her life.

You stepped a few steps backward and enjoyed the view of her car that was revived from the dead. You let out a relieved sigh. You watched her step out from her car as she approached you with a light smile on her lips; now this seems sincere rather than a forced one. 

“Ko-ma-wo” 

“Uh, what?”

“It’s thank you in Korean.’ She answers. 

“Oh” You hesitated for a second, then gave her a quick bow despite looking stupid because you knew that’s what most Koreans do when receiving thanks. “No problem.”

“As I told you a while ago that I’m pretty cashless right now, I don’t know how I would pay you.” 

There were a lot of thoughts running in your mind, and obviously they were what a guy would like for a hot girl to do: free sex, having her knees down at the floor while she devours your cock, maybe a dog style on the garage, or maybe be his boyfriend. But you were educated, not some punk ass dude who’d treat them like objects. You knew the boundaries, so instead you just kept it to yourself. 

“It’s fine, you don’t need to. I enjoyed fixing your car anyways, so it’s more of my own liking rather than a forced work.”

“Well . . . I don’t think I can agree with that.” She looked skeptical. “I just don’t feel like living in a world knowing I’m indebted to someone.”

“It’s fine, Rose. I volunteered, so I don’t really need you to feel indebted just because of that. I told you myself, I don’t need it.” You emphasized the final three words, hoping she’d finally agree with your request. But it was not a request either. You’d call it a consolation thanking because she finally talked to you properly without being a bitch. 

She sighed, her eyes closing while she looked down. Both of you were outside the garage, but still under the lifted door that covered you from the blazing heat. 

“I’ll think about how I would pay you. But for now, thank you for your help.” She nodded lightly. The smile was still light.

“Alright, I’ll see you again.” You smiled back. “Take a shower already, you don’t wanna stink and get seen dirty by the neighborhood.”

“Yah? Even if I’m dirty like a beggar, I won’t stink.” 

“Of course, you’d tell me that.” 

So another point for your memorable interaction with the neighbor. She is Rose. You’d call her with that from this point. You remembered that moment where she was very close to you. And right, you were stiffing and yet you had to make yourself looked calm as possible because you didn’t want to look so weak and soft either. That voice while she tells how most of his boys called her ‘mommy’, was enough to make you gulp alone in your bed while leaning against the bed board with the blanket covering the lower part of your body.

 One final check on her wouldn’t hurt, so you did peek over the window—saw the lights shut on her bedroom—then laid back to your bed, thanking god for a great Saturday.

Sunday ran past as there wasn’t something to do. You just stayed up inside the house, fixed some things and arranged your items that didn’t need to be arranged, and yet you still did. After a while Monday has come so you’re back to reality. Faced with numerous seat works and homeworks, you were buzzed—but then you remembered you had inspiration—Rose. James never knew about her being your neighbor and decided to keep it first to yourself. She might not want others to know her presence and as you knew James thought she had left Canada.

Deandre and the gang were like hornets that had their hive touched by you, they just won’t leave and disappear at least for a day until they sucked out your resources. Most will be depressed, but you were smart—bought a pack of cheap cookies that only cost around five to seven dollars, and you bring one extra every single day for him. Perfect timing, that’s all what it takes—but not now. 

You washed your face in the comfort room. The water cold, it was refreshing. You were alone in the room and there was peace at least after a long day merging with crowds in the corridor and the room. The running water from the faucet. When you stepped outside, pulled the door open, a woman stood at the front leaning against the opposite wall. Her eyes on the left corridor and travels towards you once she has noticed your presence out. She had a good set of eyes—more of like a cat shaped and you realized then she was one of Rose’s friends. 

“Oh there you are.” She smiled. “So I think you’ve seen me already, probably.”

“Deandre’s girlfriend?” You didn’t hesitate. She was that girl on the court where his arms were around her seat. Was she this? Maybe not, but would it make any difference? 

She chuckled, covering her mouth. “Not really. How do you say so, Mr. New face?”

“Well, I just assumed? Just how he’d bring you with him taxing me for some shit everytime in the corridor?” 

Her chuckles sounded so expensive that you’d wish to hear it for an hour straight. And with that pretty fierce cat face, every boy would fall for it. 

“You're more confident than I thought so.” She smirked. “But anyways I’ll just get straight to the point why I’m here. It wouldn’t really sound good if rumors start to spread when that one popular girl is seen talking to a new bird like you right in front of the male’s restroom.”

“Yeah, they might think—“

“I gave you a head or such.” She interrupts you like she knew what was running inside your head. Never thought she’d be open minded. “So, do you drink or not?”

“Well . . . Sort of? Only at reasonable events and parties.”

She pulls out a card that was entirely white and blank. “Tomorrow, 10 pm in my house.”

“What’s happening? And what am I supposed to do with a blank card.”

“Show that to my guard at the front gate, and it’s a party.”

“Is this a dream or something? Are you really inviting a guy who you have never met before?” 

“Well I met you right now, plus it’s more of a friend’s request rather than my own. So are you going, or are you wasting the once in a lifetime chance?”

You were hesitating while her eyes were locked at you, waiting for an answer. But then, she’s right there in front and you wouldn’t want to make herself disappointed. At Least not waste her time inviting you just for you to say ‘no’.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

Her eyebrows lifted and a closed smile appeared in her lips. “Okay great! Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Toodles.” She walks out, maintaining eye contact for a while while she waves her hand at you. She walks sassy—not in a way she’d wiggle her butt at every step—but more of reminding everyone that the prettiest is passing by. Almost nearing the class shift, it was time for you to head back to the room.

At the final break shift, you opened up the party invite to your friends. They were surprised, obviously. Not even expecting such a popular girl to come right in front of the comfort room to reach out for a party invite.

“Jennie herself?” Clifton freaked softly that only the four of you could see.

“Yeah, she reached me out this blank ass paper” 

Your friends studied the paper. There was just nothing, even you could think she’s just fooling out of you. Was she? Yes or no. She doesn’t seem to be the type of person. If she did make a fool out of you—can you even complain? 

“Probably invisible ink” Julia says while she tilts it back and forth. “Just not some ordinary paper card you’d cut out”

“Well what’s your plan then?” James asks. “Can you bring friends?”

You place your hand over your face. “Fuck, I forgot to ask. But do you think I can?”

“I’d say not, blud.” Tyrone answers while he pulls his bag from the floor, placing it behind his back.  “Those girls are just picky with the people they’re encountering. You're one lucky bastard.”

“How did you make her invite you?” James asks, his tone filled with confusion and curiosity. “As if you’ve done nothing and suddenly that girl just came looking for you . . . Right in the toilet? Pretty bullshit. ”

You shrug shoulders. “I don’t know. Ask her yourself. You know like when the nerd guy in a K Drama suddenly gets the popular girl’s heart?”

James swung his hand. “That’s some bullshit, you ain’t in a fantasy world bro.”

“Like I have the courage to talk to her in the first place?” says You. 

“Anyways, goodluck.” Julia raises her thumb. “You have the GC to chat on. If you need help, we'll be there.” 

“Thank you fellas.” You smile. Having these kinds of friends is like hitting a jackpot in a slot machine. Only the four of you, even though it might sound little, it was fine rather than a bunch of plastic backstabbers. 

Back home it’s the usual routine: gym and cardio. Finished by ten in the night and it was your most late one. You had eaten a set of combo meals in a fast food chain, and it felt like carrying a baby in your tummy as you walked a kilometer. 

You saw Rose outside, carrying another garbage bag to be thrown in the can at the front. When she noticed your presence on the street, a light smile formed in her lips, and of course you couldn’t help but smile back. She had a toothpick in her mouth—again. 

“Late night junk works.” You began and she chuckled while she pulled the toothpick out from her mouth.

“Late night walk back home.” 

“Quite a struggle to find a bus back to this town,” says You. 

She pushes the lid down. “Poor you. Why? Was the date so good?”

“Date? What do you mean?”

She raises her brows. Her eyes darted everywhere but you. “Date with your girl or so . . . “

“My girl?” You scoff. “Where did you get that?”

“ I — “ Her eyes finally met yours, and the feeling was different. You could feel it. “—I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking?” She rolls her eyes. “Such an asshole.”

“Well that wasn’t a question tho?”

She sighs, her eyes closing. You loved poking her with your unnecessary follow ups, and seeing her get annoyed feels satisfying— it’s like poking your cold crush back in elementary. You still did remember it.  Well, Rose is your crush, sort of? And since silence seemed to follow your words, you decide to add things more. 

“I went to the gym, never realized my rest was too long until I noticed the clock, then I decided to eat outside, and here I’am.” 

She nods lightly. Her mouth forming an ‘o’ then looks away. “Well, stupid you.”

“Yeah stupid me.” You chuckle, and you find yourself forcing a smile. She’s not even looking anyways so it’s fine. “Anyways, I’ll head home now. I have to rest. You should too.”

She tucks a few strands of her hair behind her ear, then gives a light nod. “Still have things to do. I ain’t like a baby kid like you who needs to sleep early.”

“Well you’re a baby as well: Baby attitude.”

She rolls her eyes; her face shows disgust. “As if I cry when I get real-talked?”

You resume your steps and pretend you don’t really listen to her words at all. Of course, she’d open that up over and over again, and she’ll always find a way to counter you. “Whatever, goodnight.”

“Yeah that’s right, walk away idiot.” She raises her voice, but not that loud for the whole neighborhood to hear. It was only meant for you. “He really always gets on my nerves. But, he’s goddamn kind at the same time. Fuck this, Roseanne.” She whispers to herself while she watches you in the distance. Then later, she heads back inside as well. 

Struggling to pick whether a stylish or a casual one, you still ended up choosing nothing. And not because they were your favorites, but because you were overthinking what people like them would wear on house parties. You laid back to your bed and watched the ceiling. What are you even supposed to do now? Countless questions appear every second in your head, and then you start to feel sleepy afterwards, until you drift into paradise. 

Tomorrow was just a regular school day. Finished papers and passed them to the professor, hanging out with friends during break, then later on it was wrapping up. Your friends remind you to at least enjoy and behave at the same time; you didn’t know what was about to come later as well. It was around eight and a half night when you got to your house, and surprisingly, Rose was nowhere to be found outside. Maybe she’s busy.

A black loose shirt with spread collar and khaki pants was your choice. It is stylish and comfortable at the same time, making it the perfect outfit for a whole night run with strangers. Assignments and projects were not something to be worried about, as you finished them earlier at the school during break hours. So, you’re currently stress-free—almost. And the only thing to stress right now is the later’s event. 

At the front of your house, you begin to book for an Uber. You know it’s costly —as if you have any other choice for it. Tapping the book button, you realized you missed a field to answer, and it’s the drop off location. Shit, you forgot to ask her, and Jennie never said the location either. The paper was blank, so you’re left clueless. 

A headlight shone at your spot from the right. You cannot see who’s car it was, but it’s annoying you. Its engine roared when it accelerated, sounding like an old car. As it parked at your front, you realized it was Rose’s, and you saw her when she rolled the windows down. 

“Get in.” She began. Her tone sounds like she’s been doing this for years to you.

“Well, I have a party tonight and—“

“And you think we’re not going to the same place either?” She tilts her head and checks her watch. “Almost ten pookie, you don’t wanna miss the party.”

What a savior. Even if she was an annoying neighbor, she was there to help you at the exact time you needed one. She was hot, and her outfit made her more. A black fishnet long sleeves that revealed more of her skin beneath while wearing a black crop top inside. She also wore denim shorts—as usual. This was the most alluring outfit you have seen from her throughout the time that you didn’t even realize you were staring at her throughout the time she was talking. 

“Yah!” She raised her voice, snapping you back to reality. She tilts her head with a face that reminds you she was talking. 

“Oh sorry.” You shook your head. “I’m just really flaky right now. Finished some assignments and stuff, yeah?” 

“Ah, weird for me to tell Jennie to invite a nerd for a party.” She scoffed.

“Do a nerd even wear like this, huh?” You show off your clothes. 

“And I didn’t know you could wear something nice at least.” 

“Alright, sure. So you picked me up just to insult me again?” 

“Just stating the facts.” Her lips form a smirk as she moves her hand over the gear knob. “Seatbelt, Mr. Crybaby.”

You shook your head in annoyance; there’s no absolute counter to her at all. Well there was, but you’re in her car, so as if you have the courage to speak shit at her. Once she heard the click from your seat belt lock, she accelerated the car; hard enough to push you back to your seat.

Throughout the ride, you and her shared a few conversations. Watching the lights across the town, it was amazing. The car ride vibe was entirely different compared back to your home country. You’d describe it way more peacefully by the few cars that came from the opposite lane.

Shortly later, she parked her car behind a black SUV. When she told you this was her place, you stepped out and stretched your arms. The walls were perfectly trimmed bushes that were almost thrice the size of your height, it was funny. Several parked cars lined up in the same direction where Rose’s car was, and most were luxurious ones, ranging from Chevrolet’s to Mercedes’s. 

She guided you inside, where you saw how wide the place was. At first, you thought it was some event place or house. But when Rose told you this was Jennie’s, it gave you another reason to believe your friend’s words that messing with them is the biggest mistake you'd make. 

The guard let you both in when he inspected your invitation cards with a small blue lighted flashlight. He was well built. The clothes shaped his width, reminding the ones who would want to trespass her place. Inside the house, it was slightly dim, and it gave a sort of club vibe where you have to walk through darkness before seeing the lights. Well you did, but instead, it was a living room with some people around. The lights were pinkish red. Few people were on the second floor while some leaned against the railings. 

“Rosie!” The short haired girl approached her. She was tall and was one of the three popular girls. “I like your outfit, so freaking bad.”

“Do you really have to glaze me that much, Lisa?” Rose grins while she holds her hand. Lisa’s eyes slowly land on you as her eyebrows raise.

“So, who’s this new face you’ve brought tonight?” asks Lisa. 

Rose looks at you, and while she says her words, she keeps her eyes at you for a while before looking back at her. “A kind guy who helped me fix my Mustang last week in my garage.”

“Oh, so we’re bringing strangers now?” Lisa looks at her while she lands a few glances at you. 

You felt Rose’s hands around your arm, and her thumb began rubbing shapes in your skin. “Darling, you really think I’m just bringing strangers here? Of course, you know the obvious."

Lisa’s expression turned bright as she nodded several times, knowing the answer through Rose’s actions at you. “You’re starting to keep stories from now, huh.” She pokes Rose. You didn’t even expect Lisa to reach her hands at you. “Lisa, by the way.”

“Y/n.” You accepted the hand offer. A judgmental person, that seemed what she is, and the courage she had to call you a stranger in front of you was bewildering. Good thing, Rose managed to play it off smoothly, and you didn’t expect her to save you at all, knowing she’s an asshole towards you.  

When Lisa walks away, you look at her. “Why did you save me?”

“I’m not entirely an asshole to embarrass a person who helped me as well,” says her as she meets your eyes. “Come, I’ll let you meet my friends.”

“Shit, that would be too embarrassing.” You slightly pull away. 

“I thought you wanted to be popular?”

“I do.”

“And I’m giving you the chance, yet you’re here with your baby attitude again.”

“Shit.” You sigh, resting your hand on your hips while you try to gather your courage to face such students like them. 

“Tonight, you’d be known as my boyfriend, and they won’t do shit about it.” 

“You’re my girlfriend?” You raised your brows. “How I wished to be.”

She tilts her head as her eyes narrow. “Just for tonight, idiot.”

“Oh.” 

“And yeah, keep wishing. As if I’d boyfriend someone like you.” She rolls her eyes and starts to pull your hand with her. “Come on, no time to waste.”   

Yeah, rejected as usual. You were just playing with it; you intended to act sad, but still it was quite painful to hear such rejection. She led you to a couch where her friends sat, and you saw a person that's always ruining your mood every time you see him. Deandre, he was there, at the couch sitting beside Jennie. And as Rose feels your sudden step aback, she grabs your wrist. 

“If I say you touch me, you will touch me.” She softly says while both of you approach. “No but’s and if’s.”

“Hey, baby.” Jennie stands and approaches her, kissing cheeks. “Quit late, huh?”

“Sorry darling, my boyfriend is quite a snail-head in times of events like this.” She grins, looking at you.

“What a surprise, Y/n,” says Jennie. “You didn’t even tell me yesterday that our Rosie is your girlfriend already. Quite a mysterious transferee, huh?”

“Uh,” You stutter, and when Rose notices your awkward act, she warns you with her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it lowkey, I guess.”

“Ah lowkey.” Jennie lightly nods and nudges your arm. “I understand, you know. Rose is quite a popular one in school, and I assume you’d hate rumors when they realize you’re a transferee.”

“Yo Jennie, why invite an outcast here?” His voice. Once again, you heard it, and it’s enough to ruin your mood. “Guess you got the wrong person. I don’t think he’d enjoy the party by reaching out for glasses and serving us like a waiter some shit.” You heard his friends share chuckles and laughs. 

“Deandre, what a fucker.” She whispers, rolling her eyes. She was still facing you.  

“Babe,” says Rose, enough for Deandre’s whole friends to hear. “Come sit beside me, I’m missing your touches quite fast already.”

So she called you babe, and hearing it was enough to make you blush deep inside. You’re just both acting. You reminded yourself, and this isn’t the best time to dwell into your feelings. You followed her request and sat beside her. As you sat, she rested her right leg over your thigh, and snuggled against you.

All of their eyes, even Deandre’s, were on both of you. They were silent, some looked away and pretended like they didn’t laugh at his joke. Rose enjoyed the view on their faces.

“Touch me, now.” She whispered while keeping an eye on them.”

And gently, you did. You placed your hand over her thigh and caressed it gently, enjoying every inch of her skin. It was smooth and soft. You could stay up the whole day doing this over and over again, and not get tired. 

Deandre was silent. Within those smirks and scoffs in his lips hides the embarrassment he feels towards the both of you. 

“At Least he could pull Rosie than you could do.” Jisoo teases. She was sitting on the right couch. 

“She just had no one to bring, trust me.” Deandre answered back.

“Not really, Drei. We both know I could bring any handsome guy in the school with a simple hi, right?” says Rose. “Just tell me you’re being a crybaby because you were not the one with me tonight.” She looks up at you; your faces are a few inches apart. “Right, babe?”

You were getting flustered, but it’s all just a plan, remember? Everything is fake. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You forced a smile. 

“Aww come on. What’s with those simple answers?” Rose pouts. “You don’t love me?”

“Ah, of course I do love you so much.” You took the courage to caress her cheeks, down to her neck.  “You’re so gorgeous tonight.”

Then, you felt her hand over your chest, where she unbuttons one, caressing the same ways as yours.  

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She says between. 

Your said so ‘cuddles’ was enough to shut Deandre’s mouth more. Another scoff from him, then a word never came out of his mouth again. He only watched both of you share cheeky moments together. His friends shut quiet, acting normal, some were on their phones. Deandre’s dogs, that’s what they are. 

The heat between the three of you has finally cooled down, they were avoiding their eyes on you, while Deandre would place glances sometimes. Jennie came back to the table with bottles on both hands: a whiskey and gin. Shit, liquors, it’s been awhile. You had the last of those during the post-prom night event, where you stayed with close friends, drank all night; not even caring about your haggard looks. 

All part of new friendship—you wanted this. Jennie insisted on pouring the liquor on your shot glass. You didn’t expect her to be this kind. You assumed she’s a two sided woman. 

It was bitter, felt your throat burn as the liquid passed down. You hid your uncomfort through closing your eyes and swallowing hard, while looking emotionless. It’s a tough battle. Shortly after a few shots, your body seems to condition the liquors, until you realize you’re starting to drink it normally. 

Looking at Rose, she’s hell of gorgeous. The way she sat, both legs over the sofa, her whitish purple hair free on her left shoulder while she rested her left hand on the cushion—was a sight to enjoy. Beneath those fishnet sleeves teases her curves and smooth skin. The world seemed to slow down, it was just her you see. As the pink light colors her face, there was the sense of allure and attraction within your heart.

You excused yourself for a bathroom break, they didn’t seem to care, so you went right away. Splashed cold water on your face from the faucet, that was it—you just wanted a refreshment. The bathroom luxurious. As you stepped out, you had to pass by several couples who were making out on the wall.

Back at the table, Rose had become quite more flirtatious. She was getting drunk; Jennie told you, and the fact that it was your first time seeing her act like this was a changing experience.  So you just let her be. It’s only a plan, something not to be serious about, and within her touches and snuggles lies nothing but falseness and showing off to people—she’s just helping you, remember. She’d never be your girlfriend. Smiles and laughter surrounded you, and you were just here forcing yours. 

You had decided to take fresh air outside Jennie’s place, right at Rose’s mustang. The sight was relaxing, though it’s nothing but a grass field. You stayed under a tree beside her car. The crescent moon shone between dark clouds, and there were the stars. 

You were drunk; you knew that, and as you shook your head more makes your vision get fuzzier—it was funny.

You heard crunches of soil near you, and behind you saw Rose approaching. She walked playfully, swinging her arms freely. “Hey baby.” 

“Stop that.” You forced a grin. 

“Why? Don’t you love it when I call you that?”

You walked towards her car, and leaned against the hood. “No.”

“No your ass, bitch.” She stood beside you and playfully pushed your arm using her body. “What are you even doing here?”

“Taking fresh air.”

She giggles and covers her mouth. “Just tell me you’re not used to crowds.”

“I’m used to it,” says you, “I’m just exhausted.”

“Ah.” She lightly nodded, and there was silence. It’s quite comfortable to have moments like this with her alone in a quiet night—wished you’d have another of this soon after. Soon enough, you didn’t notice she was looking at you until you glanced at her.

“I like your outfit.” She smiles lightly. “Not being an asshole, but it’s really nice.”

You were flustered. “Thanks . . . I just save this kind of clothes for times like this. But you know what’s nicer?”

“What?” 

“If I don’t have these on.” 

 You winced internally, almost wanting to run a kilometer away. Rather than a disgusted look, her face showed off more of a disappointed look. 

“That’s some corny ass shit, Y/n.” She scoffed. 

“Just kidding, forget about that.”

“I don’t forget corny jokes that easy, crybaby.” She tilts her head and teases you with a forced pout. 

“Well . . . I’ll be honest right now,” You say, “I like your outfit as well. Quite weird for me to see you getting attractive each day.”

You said it from the bottom of your heart. She really was. Everytime you’d see her outside her house, despite the same clothing style she’d still be beautiful. 

She seemed to accept your words. Then, she moved closer to you, her eyes gazing at yours. “You know what will be better?” She tilts her head, her body shifting at you. “And it’s when these are off from me, and it’s right in your hands. "

You froze, and found yourself staring back into her eyes while she wore that mischievous smile on her lips. She copied your joke, but why did it work so well for you. Her deliverance, not so maybe.

“Why is Mr. Tough guy silent, eh?” She leans, your face a few inches between, and grins while giggling mischievously. “Feels shocking when your words are thrown back at you as well, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, and you said it so well that it didn’t even sound like a joke anymore.” 

“Oh?” She tilts her head, keeping her face close at you. “Did I even say I was?”

Both of you were close, and the urge to kiss her lips, pull her into you, consumes your mind. Your heart was racing fast. This is the time, to take your chance, to finally fulfill that desire you wished. It didn’t take long enough for her to notice you glancing into her cute lips.

“Come on, do it.” She says softly, her breath hot on your face and smelled of liquor. “I could see it in your eyes, Y/n.” She moved even closer. “Do you need mommy’s permission again?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, hesitating. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean anything of this, and you didn’t want to take advantage of her—even if your urge to do it was boiling inside you. Shit, whatever. You didn’t want to miss it, and you finally took the chance as you pressed your lips on hers. They were smooth like cushions. It all started off with just presses and touches of lips, and the play had changed when she placed her hand around your nape. You’re completely clueless with kisses and such. There you let her continue the kiss, feeling her pulling your lower lip between her lips, giving it a tender suck. Your heart was racing faster, feeling the excitement consume your body. But it’s right here—it’s happening. 

She slowly pulls away, tracing her hand on your cheek down to your neck. “Looks like someone doesn’t know how to kiss a girl, hmm?”

 You nod sheepishly and look down in embarrassment. Never in once you did have. Shortly, she lifts your chin back at her.

“Let me guide you then.” A sly smile appears on her lips “Inside the car.” She commands as she walks towards the driver door, biting her lips at you. 

As you sat inside, she pushed the retract button of your seat, then straddled herself atop you as the seat retracted full. She wasn't heavy at all, yet the feeling of her weight on top of you was euphoric. There’s no such thing as discomfort when an alluring woman is right on your front.

She flipped her hair to the right, then sensually slid her fingers from the side of her neck, down to her shoulder, where she pulled down her sleeve to expose her bare shoulder. “Am I pretty, asshole?”

“Yes, you—” 

She leaned and crashed her lips once again into yours, not even letting you complete such a compliment. The rhythm turns aggressive, and the way she’d devour your lips like no tomorrow excites you even more while her hands cradle your face. Her curves were delighting as you placed your hands on it.

You didn’t know how to answer her kisses back, and you let her control you. She wasn’t even complaining, seemingly enjoying the position she had, and as the make out prolonged, you began to feel her tongue between your lips, where you didn’t hesitate to welcome it as she explored your mouth. Your hand grips into her waist as you feel your body burning into excitement. 

She pulled away and sighed sensually, straightening her back. She licked her lips wet and bit her lip while she gazed into your eyes full of lust and desire. This is a drunk Rose. In any situation, she’d always look gorgeous—hot. 

“Ssibal , igeo neomu segsihae” She hisses, pressing her hands over your chest, then slowly unfastens your buttons. Contemplating decisions, she stopped when you grabbed her hands.

“Rosie, do you really want this?”

She scoffed, and pushed your hand away. “You really had the audacity to stop me when you can’t even kiss properly, huh?” She leans closer into your face, making sure you’d hear the following words from her hot mouth. “And I don’t want you calling me with that name. Wouldn’t it be better if you start calling me—“ She moves to your ear, whispering “—your mommy , hmm?” Slowly, she runs her lips into your neck. “You know I hate when something gets in my way, and you just went and did it. But lucky you, I’m not in my mood to give you pain. Now, all I just want is something inside me—and I think your goddamn dick is the perfect one.”

Your cock stiffened even more. Her words were not something you’d expect from that asshole neighbor weeks ago, with only eyes and gazed communication that became tiring every single afternoon. From giving eyes, to exploring each other’s mouth in her car—it escalated fast. 

She helped you pull her fishnet sleeves down from her shoulders, leaving only her black crop top and her delicate skin. Her hips began to rub into your crotch slowly, like she knows how much your cock wanted it—and you really did. A sly smile would form in her lips between grinds when she sees the enjoyment from your eyes. Your breaths and her soft moans fill the quiet surroundings.

Quickly pulling down the black crop top herself revealed a pair of tits that hid beneath the thin fabric. They were just enough for your palms to hold on; perky, petite, and soft. Her nipples hard, and while your thumb enjoyed caressing it, she’d arch her back and let out moans. Her hips continued to grind you. She went faster as you massaged her tits like it’s a separate thing from her.

“Fuck.” She moans and holds your hands, pressing it more into her breasts. “I need something more than this.”

The door clicked on your side and she pushed it open, welcoming the fresh air. You watched Rose dismount herself from you. There were no people around, and she wouldn’t be seen either as she used the mustang as a cover. 

“This way.” She pulled your arm, shifting you to face her outside while keeping your ass on the seat. She knelt down; you know what’s gonna happen next, and you were bracing for it. While she unbuckles your belt, she’d give quick glances at your eyes, her lips smirking like a girl unwrapping her Christmas gift despite knowing what’s about to show up already. 

Pulled your pants and underwear hard down to your feet, she let out a moan as she appreciated the view of your stiff cock. 

“How I missed this.”  She points it towards her mouth before her tongue darts out to give a wet lick  around your tip. A shiver runs down to your body; irresistible, sort of shocking yet you wanted it for long. It was your first time, and it is addicting. She teases you with her tongue licks around your tip, then shortly, she takes you into her hot mouth, pushing herself into your base. You gripped your hands behind, on the seat, clinging yourself within Rose’s devious act. 

The woman moans between swallows, her bobs going slower, then faster — then slow again. You closed your eyes to savor the sensations flowing outward from your crotch. Your hands are gripping the seat harder. You couldn’t help but get mesmerized by the view of her sucking your cock off while kneeling down on a rough concrete road outside, shirtless with her breasts exposed—nipples hard. 

You run your fingers on her hair, gripping a few strands as she pulls away. 

“Mind helping me?” She looked up at you with a provocative gaze.

“You can’t just suck my dick like this while being shirtless outside.” 

“Why?” She raises a brow while keeping a hand wrapped around your cock. “"Don't you want them to know that the guy who they think they can just boss around like a poor pup, is currently having his cock swallowed by the popular guitarist student of Chandelier Academy?” She gives your cock a quick swallow, leaving a slick sheen of her spit between it and her lips. “Are you ashamed of mommy giving his fake boyfriend a head?” 

“No.” You shake your head sheepishly. 

“Now shut your goddamn mouth.” Then the ravaging continues, slightly raising herself to face your cock down, pushing herself until your base. A moan escapes your mouth; it was sensational, and you’d  never get tired—wishing this would last until the morning. Your hands made way on a few strands of her hair while she gave your cock a deep throat, and sensing her struggle you gently pushed her further down, feeling more of her mouth’s insides. 

She gags; you were worried, and she felt it when you started to loosen your grip on her hair, so she grasped your wrist back and pressed your hand tightly once again at her hair—telling you to continue further—and so you did. All you could do was watch your arrogant neighbor take herself deep into your cock, and as well savor every delicious sparks of pleasure radiating from your shaft, up to your spine and into an overwhelmed brain.

“I’m cumming, mommy.” You hiss between gasps. It was near, and within these seconds you’d create a mess in her mouth. Rose responded by quickening her pace, up and down—fast. And you found yourself groaning, placing your hand over her head like you were clinging your life into it. No questions needed to ask whether you’d pop it out inside her mouth or not—that was the answer. She went faster every second, and shortly, feeling it now at the edge of your cock, you released it into the back of your neighbor’s needy throat. The sense of relief consumed you. All of that stress and hesitation turned into nothing but thick white semen inside her mouth.  

She finally slows her pace, her mouth still wrapped around you as a mix of your cum and her saliva glistens on your cock. Then she looks up at you.“I missed that, did you like it?”

Your nods formed a smile on her lips, and soon she stood up on her feet where she pushed you inside further. Closing the door with her, she moved to the driver seat, shifting her body facing you on the passenger side, where she spread her legs. Her denim shorts were still on, and when she noticed you just watching stupidly, she raised a brow. 

“I removed your pants myself, so are you,” stated Rose. This was the greenlight, your hands made way into the button of her shorts, unfastening it, and pulled it to her knees. Her black undergarment greeted your eyes; you kept it on for a while as you admired the view of her delicate thighs, running your hands on them. You’d tease her with your slight touches over her crotch area, where she’d let out a soft moan despite the black thin fabric that separates you and her skin. “You know how to make a woman wait, huh?” 

“I’m just making every second count,” says you between heavy breaths. “Might be the first and last.”

“And who said it would be?” Her fingers run on your jawline, as excitement fills you upon hearing those words. You heard it right— might not be your last ever; she said it herself and surely it wasn’t your drunk mind making up voices. “Now don’t keep me waiting before I change my mind.”

You placed kisses on her legs, up to her thighs, then to her belly. Her skin is soft, addictive. Running your hands on her hips while you plant those sweet kisses, she’d spread her legs wider, telling you she couldn’t wait to give in.

Pulling her black undergarment down welcomed your eyes with her delicious pussy, like a meal you’ve wanted for years. Your body burning with desire and lust, and you didn’t wait any longer to devour her cunt right away, latching your lips around her tender flesh. 

“Goddamnit.” She grunts, her hand grabbing into your hair as she watches you. Shortly, your fingers find her opening and slip inside, sliding in and out, as you lean towards her to suck her nipples. She was at your mercy, and the sensation was consuming her. 

“Faster” She let out a small whimper, her eyes shutting tightly. In response to her request, you quickened your pace, moving faster than usual. Your fingers wetter. “I’m near”

She’d keep her vulgar words until now, but that even made you like your work at her even more. Her hands were still over your head, her nails digging into your scalp. Pain was nothing but an obstacle, you didn’t really mind. 

(You quickened more)

At the final reach, she lets out a gasp as she orgasms; her slick wetness dripping into your fingers. Her breath quickened, and she closed her eyes in relaxation, then ran her hand over her messy hair while her desirous eyes gazed at you. Her body was irresistible. You’d take a curvy petite figure every night and day with you without getting tired. 

A sly smile spreads across her lips as her gaze settles on your cock. “Now for the exciting part.”

She pushes herself upright, wrapping her arms around your neck as she crashes her lips against yours, hungrily devouring the kiss. Your bare skin touches hers, and what excites you more is seeing her slender, naked figure right in front of you, her weight over your lap as you feel the heat of her body.

You let her do her work on your mouth. Messy? It was not for you— just entirely hot that you’d last forever doing this with her. She pulled away to position herself atop you. Your cock quivers with need. She grips your cock and gently teases it over her needy clit. Her eyes dripped with lust, mirroring the slick sheen of her body. 

A moan of pleasure escapes her lips as she finally lowers herself onto your cock—a sound that’s hot and bratty, just as you’d imagine. Her arms remain around your neck as you sit upright, her body pressed close to yours, with her long hair cascading over her face, hiding it from view— you know she’s watching herself. 

It started off slowly. You, who was your first time, found it slightly uncomfortable at first, but as time progressed, where she began to change her pace, made you forget such thoughts. Her hips grinding against yours was all that mattered; you loved seeing both of your naked bodies pressed together.

“ Jenjang Y/N. neo jonna himdeureo (Fuck Y/n, you’re so fucking hard.)” She muttered close to your ear, sounding very tired— though her pace over you said otherwise, grinding faster. You didn’t understood a single word from her, probably her dialect on Korea, but her tone was enough for you understand that she was enjoying it. 

Throughout it all, you’re fucking her inside her car, savoring the feel of her orgasming pussy wrapped tightly around your cock with each thrust. Your hands pressed against her curves, feeling the sweat of her body, and supporting her while she gives a nice ride over your cock. 

You’re nearing your peak again, and she’s grinding against you faster now, loud moans escaping her lips. One arm stays draped over your shoulders while the other runs through her messy hair and then over her head. You enjoy the view of her sweaty body, and your hands find their way to her breasts once more. Her lustful eyes lock with yours, and she eagerly devours your lips. Her body presses harder against you, matching the rhythm of her fast grind.

“‘Shit!’ Rose gasps, her voice trembling with anticipation and broken by breathless moans. She’s approaching her peak as well, her body tensing with each thrust. Just before you can release, she quickly pulls away, raising herself and stroking your cock rapidly. Thick, white semen erupts from you, spilling out with each stroke as it travels down to her fingers. At the same, she runs her fingers over her clit, her own juices mixing with the mess on the floorboard.

Her mouth finds its way back to your cock, swallowing it deep and then licking the remaining semen from around it. It glistens with her saliva and your cum, but what you appreciate most is the sight of her face beside it, a hint of your semen at the corner of her lips. Fatigue is evident in her eyes—she looks ready to sleep, or maybe not, as she hints at the possibility of another round.

“Like that?” she asks softly.

“Who wouldn’t?”

“My exes,” she shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “Maybe it was me, so I had to improve.”

“So I’m lucky to experience your improvement.”

“Kinda.” She rests her chin on your lap. “I’ve never slept with a guy without being in a relationship first. So, yeah, I guess so.”

[geombyu]

GOJO SEES YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT !

Pairing. student!gojo x student!gn!reader

Genre. fluff, friends to hinted lovers perhaps

Word count. 0.6k | Warnings. swearing, the reader is smaller than gojo (the shirt is big on them)

A/N. i see a lot of these and like 7/10 times theyre smut LMAOAO so i wanted to write a fluff ver! i also did Not think id be writing for jjk but 😭 ig we are + not rlly proofread sorry :(

Today was Gojo's day off, and what better way to start it than waking up at four pm?

He was a busy guy - despite only being in high school - he's already taken on many jobs, it was only right he could get sixteen hours of sleep.

When he arrived at your shared dorm at twelve in the morning, you were already asleep, so when he got out of his room and laid his eyes on you wearing his t-shirt, he couldn't help but gasp.

"Oh, hey Satoru." You spoke, sparing him a quick glance before going back to cooking. His mouth was still wide open; he couldn't respond—he tried, but he couldn't. No sound could leave him. Who knew all it took for the strongest to be left speechless was the sight of you in his shirt?

You look back at him, seeing how his jaw was still on the floor, you realize it was probably because of what you were wearing right now.

"Oh! This? Sorry," you chuckle, "none of my clothes have been washed yet—call me gross, whatever—so I decided to steal from your wardrobe. Hope you don't mind." You stuck your tongue out before placing the eggs on a plate.

You moved to put the plate on the dining table, giving him a better view of you in his shirt. It fit him so perfectly, so seeing it so big on you absolutely made his heart melt.

There was a light tint of pink on your friend's cheeks now; you were so cute he felt like he was going to pass out.

"Are you okay with just eggs? There's more stuff but I wanna save them for next time—oh, actually, you might not be here tomorrow…" You mumbled the last part, choosing to ignore how he still hasn't responded to any of your sentences.

Gojo tried to get a word out, but all he could manage was a strange, strangled noise, which you respond to with a confused hum. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't organize any of his thoughts. He was screaming over and over in his head, but there was a thought slightly bigger than the rest (the rest which consisted of AAAA's, OH MY GOD's, and WHAT THE FUCK's)—that thought was: "holy fuck you're so adorable," which was also exactly what he just blurted out.

Now it was your turn to be flustered, "I—what?"

Gojo's eyes widen before he covers his face with his hands, his face now fully red. "Ignore what I just said," his voice was muffled, but you could still hear what he said.

You never thought you'd see the Gojo Satoru blushing so deeply with his face in his hands, but here he is. You laugh, "can you repeat that?" You were teasing him, I mean, it's not every day that this happens, but any more teasing and his heart might actually blow up.

"Y/n, shut up—oh my God—I hate you!"

"I thought you said I was adorable? Or do you hate cute things?"

He yells into the palms of his hands.

Although you're being bold right now, him calling you adorable caused your brain to shut down for a good millisecond. Gojo complimented you all the time, but somehow, this felt different.

You walk to where he's standing right now, hands still covering his pretty face. You put your hand on his, and the feeling of your warm and soft hands comfort him.

He could tell you wanted to pull his hands away, and while he didn't want that, he was so weak to your touch.

He had no other option but to give in, so he did. You put his left hand away first, then the right. With his hand still in yours, you softly spoke, "if that's the case, then you must really hate yourself."

Oh, he was so in love with you.

© geombyu

[paulyenvol6]

Called to the Devil (Chapter 1)

Contains: no warnings

Wordcount: ~2.52k

Masterlist of this story

'Crash', it made. And then another.

Servants in the corridors widened their eyes in fear unknowing to how to handle this situation. At last they opened the door to the damned room and saw her sitting on the floor with the doll in her hands hitting the nightstand over and over again.

"My lady….", one of the brave servant boys said quickly and the girl hesitated and looked at him.

"What?", she breathed and he lowered his head.

"Forgive me for the disruption, my lady. I was simply wondering if you mayhaps… Could do this a little more quiet." She squinted her eyes and the boy uncertainly looked to his compaignon, another sevant.

"Forgive me, my lady. I – "

But he didn't finish his sentence because Elayne threw her hair back and stood up from the floor.

"No need.", she hissed with flashing eyes. With these words she threw the doll in front of the servants on the floor.

"Send this to my father. I think he will understand the message."

The two servants watched as the girl left her chambers and once she was gone one of them exhaled loudly.

"She is difficult." The other nodded. "She is a little beast. I wonder how the King will be able to tame her."

~~~~~~~~~~

Elayne Baratheon was a girl of 16 years with long brown hair that was as wild as her character. She was small, smaller than her younger sisters even but with green eyes so fierce that every person she looked at felt as though she was burning a hole through their bodies.

Her mouth always was either tense with anger or drawn to a smug smirk but right now fury was controlling her senses as she had stormed out of her chambers. She grew up at Storm's End with her parents Marcyn Baratheon and Aenyra Targaryen and 3 sisters and two brothers. The girl had always been difficult to handle, as she used to taunt and torture her younger and older siblings, left the city without her parents' permission and played tricks on her servants.

Mayhaps Lord Marcyn had hoped that as his daughter grew older she would also grow more mature but he couldn't have been more wrong. She was choatic, messy and completely out of control, to her parents' misfortune. Elayne did whatever she felt like doing and didn't let anybody tell her what to do so when she was 15 years old her father had decided to wed her in an attempt to finally get her under control.

He did love his daughter, but he feared that she would bring scandal over their house. And though Elayne was of ethereal beauty and youth and had enchanted every lord that entered Storm's End she scared off each and every of the suiters which had given her parents a headache. They tried everything, talking her into getting to know the lords, forcing her to spend time with the suiters but Elayne had remained stubborn and refused every one of them. And most of the time she wasn't even polite. She'd ask rude questions or ignore them and humiliate them in front of every one else until the last of them had run off.

That had left Lord Marcyn with no choice but to think of something else. And he had. He had decided that it was finally time for his daughter to learn to behave like a proper young lady so he had asked the King Viserys, who happened to be his wife's cousin to take Elayne as his ward. She could spend some time in the capital, be in a different environment and perhaps learn to act like a real lady with the presence of all the other highborn ladies in court.

His daughter had refused, disobeyed, screamed and cried but he had remained stubborn. Lord Marcyn had a gentle and kind heart and a special love for his children but this time he knew he had to be strict so within a fortnight Elayne had been sent on a boat heading to King's Landing. Her father also had hoped that her time in the capital may end with a betrothal and had even told Elayne that he would be fine with any match as long as he was highborn, so desperate was he because of his daughter's fiery temper.

~~~~~~~~~~

And now there she was. Pouty lips and red eyes from all her crying.

She wouldn't give in, of course not. Elayne was hurt and sad and most importantly angry. How could her father ship her off like this? How could he send her to a strange city while the rest of her family remained at Storm's End? Aimlessly she walked around the gardens of the Red Keep. She had arrived only two hours ago and already wanted to leave.

She looked around. Maybe there was a gate or something that she could climb over and then find her way to the port of King's Landing. She didn't have any money but she had jewelery…. She could ask a captain to travel with him and one of them would certainly head to Storm's End.

Elayne's thoughts were interrupted when she saw a person on the other end of the road that led through the garden. She watched him with small eyes; he was tall, probably was about 25 years old, had silver hair and now seemed to have spotted her as well. And seven hells he was beautiful.

Slowly he walked in her direction and Elayne crossed her arms in front of her chest. She thought that he looked handsome but feared that he might bore her like all the other Targaryens she had met, especially the king. He had greeted her in his chambers, welcomed her in the name of the whole family and the rest Elayne had forgotten.

The man in front of her now smirked and his eyes were flashing.

"You must be Elayne… Elayne Baratheon, my cousin's difficult child."

Before he had spoken Elayne had looked at him curiously because his beauty and aura had left her in awe but now her mouth tensed and she clenched her hands in fists.

"I'm not a child.", she hissed.

"Oh forgive me… my lady."

"And w-who are you?"

The man chuckled. "I can already see why they sent you here, girl. Where have you left your manners? If there ever were some."

Elayne couldn't help but smirk. She liked him. He was interesting at least. He returned the smile and crossed his arms.

"Daemon. Targaryen."

Elayne widened her eyes. The Rogue Prince, the King's fierce and violant brother. But she didn't want to show her surprise so she bit her lip.

"Daemon Targaryen. In the tales I have read about, you are described as taller."

Daemon's lips were drawn to a smirk and he chuckled inaudibly. "Good. Perhaps they fear me more then."

Elayne raised her eyebrows. "Fear you? In this place where one only has to raise his finger and there are a dozen servants doing whatever he desires?"

"They are your servants now as well."

Elayne's eyes were small and her opposite clearly enjoyed her reaction. "Do not pout, little girl. You're supposed to learn how a proper lady behaves here. And that's not the way."

His voice was oozing with sarcasm so instead of further sulking Elayne smirked and came a step closer.

"Then you should learn how to properly address a lady, my Prince." Daemon looked amused as he observed the young Baratheon.

"Forgive me. My lady. Though I don't think that title suits you a lot."

"What title does, then?", Elayne asked in a slightly seducing tone and the Rogue Prince answered equally playful:

"I'm yet to find that out."

~~~~~~~~~~

A little later Elayne was sat against the edge of her bed on the cold floor and stared into the darkness. The hour had grown late and she knew she should be abed to get rest but she hadn't been able to. She was hurt, sad and angry and deep down just missed her home.

Here, everything was always so warm and humid and Elayne missed her stormy home. In the keep the sun burned on her skin through the windows while in her chambers at Storm's End the rain and wind would lash against it and make the whole castle tremble. That were always her favorite nights. When there was this tension over Storm's End and the hair on her arms stood up. But here everything was boring and heavy.

Elayne wondered what her siblings were doing right now. The should be sleeping but she knew that at least Kayl wasn't. He was her youngest brother and loved to read. 'No', the girl thought. 'He is probably in his bed using a candle as a light to read about dragons all night.' Elayne scoffed when she thought about it. Mayhaps her father should've sent him rather than her because Kayl had an obsession with dragons and their riders, she thought with a grim smile.

Her stomach was aching when she thought about her family but that sadness was overthrown with fury really quickly. How could her father do this to her? His own daughter? Did he despise her so much that he would send her to a strange city despite her pleas and begging? Elayne could feel tears welling in her eyes but quickly dried them with the sleeve of her night gown. She wouldn't give them that. She wouldn't cry like a baby but simply show them that she wasn't the kind of person to accept her faith.

Fiercely, the girl stared into the darkness as though her enemy sat before her. If anyone did, they would have thought her to be a cat with her green flashing eyes. But she was the only one in the room and right now Elayne even thought to be the only one in the world, so lonely did she feel.

All throughout the afternoon she had watched every of her encounters with a disapproving look. After she had met Daemon Targaryen in the gardens she had spent some time in the gardens though she had felt terribly bored. Then it had been time for supper and she had met the rest of her relative from her mother's side. She had already forgotten most of their names and hadn't softened up for once while her cousins and uncles and aunts had introduced themselves.

Even when she had seen the king's brother again, she hadn't shown any sign of interest though she had found it hard not to stare at him. He simply had a magnetic aura and Elayne caught herself biting her lip when he had walked from the door to the big table in the middle of the room. She thought that he was beautiful and she didn't care about what anyone could say or think so though she felt a little intimidated by the man she glared at him with a playful look in her eyes and decided to test his waters during supper.

"My prince.", she spoke to him, who sat on her opposite and Daemon's looked mischiveous.

"I do hope you acclimatised, love.", he smirked and leaned back in his chair with crossed legs.

A few people around them glanced at each other questioningly as they didn't know how came they already knew each other. But Elayne didn't notice any of the looks and if she did she wouldn't care anyway.

"I did. Enough for me to find my likings and dislikings."

The prince's smirk intensed. He really liked this wild little girl who seemed so eager to cause troubles. It was time for some fun after the past boring months and she brought some new wind into the castle's walls.

"What is to your disliking?", he asked while taking a sip from his wine. He didn't care who listened to their conversation either and just had his eyes on Elayne.

"Oh, the bows.", she spoke and her opposite lifted his eyebrows.

"The bows?", he repeated and the girl nodded.

"Yes. The wood is not flexible enough and they're too big for my liking. I prefer the ones in my home."

"I learned that the fighting pit is not a place for a young lady.", Daemon said while watching her intensely.

"I do not care what place is for me.", she hissed and the prince chuckled. "I thought so."

Then he inhaled loudly. "I shall send word to the masters-at-arms then. You're supposed to feel homely here so we might as well offer you what you're used to in Storm's End."

Elayne watched Daemon with small eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I'm used to far prettier boys than what my eyes see here as well.", she whispered and Daemon chewed on his lower lip.

"Then perhaps we shall make some adjustments here as well. Though I think you're supposed to find a husband so I don't think it matters what he looks like. Only his house and his wealth should matter to you, little one."

Elayne's eyes were flashing as she raised her chin but didn't answer immediately. She just observed the prince and then scoffed.

"And you?" She lifted an eyebrow and smiled crookidly. "What about your lady wife?"

She knew that she had hit a raw nerve. Everyone, even the Targaryen relatives in Storm's End knew that Daemon had married the Lady Rhae Royce few years ago. But everyone also knew that the bond between the Rogue Prince and his lady wife couldn't be more cold and distanced, if, perhaps one could even spoke of a bond.

"My lady wife is none of your concern, girl.", he said through clenched teeth.

She was satisfied with herself and took a sip from her cup while keeping her gaze on the cold expression on his face.

"It truly is not.", she then said. "And yet I can't help but wonder who keeps your bed warm at night with the lady Rhea miles away from the capital."

She looked at him with sweet big eyes but of course Daemon could look right through the girl's innocent look. Aenys, Elayne's young cousin and clearly the only one who had listened to their conversation as of late watched her anxiously because he couldn't really understand what it was about but was old enough to know that it wasn't a proper conversation for supper.

Daemon looked far from being angry or ashamed though and a playful smirked appeared on his lips.

"That should be none of your concern either.", he whispered. "But let me tell you that this is the city of possibilities and prospects, little one. Even for whores. And King's Landing offers opportunities to the finest in the seven kingdoms."

Daemon didn't even know why he played this game with her. Most of the times he was bored by the themes discussed during supper or what happened during councils. But something about that brunette sassy girl from Storm's End excited him and made him want to tease her the same way she clearly wanted to tease him.

So he enjoyed playing along.

[gayeddieagenda]

for your consideration… 🍻📽️😳 + 55: tracing the lines on the other’s hand

another scene prompt game! this one is for real long sorryyyyy. also it features the actual smallest amount of blood u can imagine, but it IS there. and it IS plot critical.

--

“You’re right,” Buck called. “They’re all Pokemon.”

“I’m really fine,” Eddie said.

Buck came back into the living room, box of band-aids and Eddie’s first aid kit—not the everyday one, the big one, from way in the back of the cabinet under the sink—in hand. Eddie didn’t even know how he’d known where to find that one. “No,” Buck said. “You’re getting Pokemon.”

Eddie pulled a face.

It really, really was not a big deal. It was a Friday night with no Christopher around—Denny and some mutual friends were doing a video game night and sleepover at the Wilson’s—so Buck had shown up at Eddie’s at seven with takeout from the banh mi place, the good one that he had to drive nearly to Chim and Maddie’s to get. Eddie swung the grocery store after dropping off Chris and picked them up plenty of beer—a pack of Buck’s usual brand and then a weird one, whatever seasonal flavor Eddie could find that he knew Buck would love trying just as much as he would hate actually having to drink it.

They ate at the dining room table, decanting the takeout onto real plates. After cleanup, they settled into the living room couch like they meant to stay there a while. Eddie made a show out of squabbling with Buck over the movie choice, before making just as much of a show out of giving in.

It was a Friday night. It was a well-worn routine, as comfortable as the old t-shirts Eddie had had almost as long as he’d had Christopher. Tonight was the same as every other night they’d had for the past six, seven years. It was pretty much Eddie’s definition of perfect.

Until—

Something happened with the bottle opener. Eddie still wasn’t sure what, only that he’d been trying to open the beer and watch the screen and talk to Buck all at once, and then suddenly something slipped and now he had a shallow scrape running the length of three knuckles on the back of his left hand, weakly leaking blood.

“Hand,” Buck said now. Eddie rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, holding out his hand to Buck.

Buck settled himself back on the couch next to Eddie. He took Eddie’s hand and set it gingerly in his lap. 

Gently, he pressed a cloth against Eddie’s knuckles. Three little spots of blood soaked slowly into it, each smaller than the last.

“See,” Eddie said. “It’s nothing.”

Buck ignored him. When he was satisfied the bleeding had stopped—in Eddie’s opinion, it had barely started—he got the Neosporin spray out of the first aid kit. After the Neosporin was on, it was Pokemon time. Eddie got a Pikachu, a Magikarp, and a round blue guy he didn’t recognize, carefully Tetris’d together to cover the scrapes around the ridges of Eddie’s knuckles.

“Will I make it?” Eddie said drily.

“Consider yourself lucky there was a firefighter in the house,” Buck said.

He was still holding Eddie’s hand.

Neither of them had bothered to pause the movie when Eddie started bleeding. On the screen, a car spun out of control dramatically, then exploded.

Buck turned Eddie’s hand in his, flipping it so his palm was facing the ceiling. His eyes were on the TV. Eddie almost could’ve convinced himself he didn’t realize he was doing it, fidgeting with Eddie’s hand the way he sometimes did with pens or a walkie-talkie at work, if it weren’t for how carefully he was touching Eddie.

Buck’s thumb found the soft center of Eddie’s palm. He ran his thumb up Eddie’s hand, following the curved line that outlined the meat of Eddie’s thumb. His touch was feather-light.

Eddie couldn’t help it. He shivered, and Buck looked up.

“Sorry,” Eddie said.

Buck’s nose crinkled. “I can stop,” he said, not moving.

“I, uh.” Another explosion on the screen, lighting the side of Buck’s face up in orange. “I don’t mind.”

The corners of Buck’s mouth lifted, a smile so small it could barely be called a smile.

He looked down at his lap, where he was still holding Eddie’s hand in both of his own. Eddie followed his gaze.

It was just Eddie’s hand. The lines across his palm showed up clear and mostly unbroken, which his abuela used to tell him meant something. Eddie couldn’t remember what. He had calluses on his palms, some from work, some from the gym. On his index finger, he had a thin scar, a relic of a kitchen chopping mishap when he was twenty.

Buck began moving his thumbs in small circles across Eddie’s palm. He started light, barely brushing Eddie’s skin, so gently that it was almost uncomfortable.

Eddie breathed in slowly through his nose and tried not to move.

When Buck dug his right thumb in a little deeper, right at the joints where Eddie’s fingers connected his palm, where his hands got stiff after a particularly long day, Eddie made a quiet, involuntary noise.

Buck looked up.

This, they didn’t do. They were physical with each other, always had been, in ways that Eddie never thought bore commenting on. They were on top of each other on the job, more often than they weren’t, squeezed in knee-to-knee in the truck and reaching over each other with practiced ease in the field. At home, they were even worse. Fridays had room for a lot of things—for knocking into each other in the kitchen when they cleaned up after dinner and tussling for the best seat on the couch. Elbows bumping together on the couch, hands brushing when Eddie handed Buck another beer. Sometimes, Buck fell asleep on Eddie halfway through the second movie, his head a heavy weight on Eddie’s shoulder. Sometimes, they fought over the remote, wrestling each other on the couch until one of them dragged the other all the way down to the living room rug.

Touching Buck—being touched by Buck—was nothing new to Eddie. This, though…

Eddie could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. Eddie had an old feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach—the yawning sense that they were standing on the brink of something.

Somewhere in the back of Eddie’s head, he’d been waiting for something like this. For a moment, when all the things they’d been holding back between the two of them came bubbling up to the surface. He’d never said it outright, not even in his own head, but sometimes, Buck looked at him and Eddie just knew that something was coming. A breaking point. When Buck would look at him and Eddie would look back and they would both know—okay, now. here we go.

This, though—he wasn't sure this felt like it.

This was...this was nothing. This was a Friday night. This was pumpkin beer and Eddie's bandaged knuckles and the stupid action movie still playing on the TV. This was so totally, spectacularly unremarkable.

He’d thought, when it was time, that he would know. It would be something they couldn’t ignore. They both knew what it felt like to experience the world at scale. Earthquakes, tsunamis, fire and lightning. This wasn’t that.

If something as small as Buck holding Eddie’s hand was enough to break open this thing between them, it would’ve happened a long, long time ago.

Wouldn’t it?

Eddie looked down. Buck was still holding Eddie’s hand in his lap, his thumb making little aimless circles in the center of his palm.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked.

Buck stilled. “I don’t know.”

Eddie tried again. “What, uh. What are we doing?”

Buck shook his head, wordlessly.

Eddie tilted his head back up to look at him. His eyes were huge in the half-light, the glow of the TV and the light from the hall he’d left on when he went looking for the first aid kit. They stared at each other for a long, drawn-out moment.

Then Buck giggled. The tension broke. And suddenly, Eddie wasn’t uncertain anymore.

He closed his hand around Buck’s. Eddie looked at him.

“Okay,” Eddie said quietly. “I’m just gonna…”

He leaned in, slow and deliberate, giving Buck all the time in the world to figure out where he was going with this. Buck didn’t move, didn’t pull away, didn’t blink. When Eddie kissed Buck, it was barely a kiss, putting his mouth on Buck’s as lightly as Buck had first touched Eddie’s hand.

Buck made a quiet noise into Eddie’s mouth and then they were kissing for real, Buck pressing into him almost hard enough to knock their teeth together.

It was a good feeling, kissing Buck, the kind of raw good feeling that Eddie couldn’t remember feeling in a long, long time. Maybe he’d never felt something quite like this. Eddie could get lost in this, he was pretty sure, in the closeness, in the feeling of Buck’s mouth opening under his, in the quiet noise Buck made when Eddie put his hand in the short hairs at the back of his neck.

When they finally separated, Buck’s face was flushed a bright red. Eddie had a feeling he looked about the same.

Eddie swallowed. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “Was that okay?”

“No, it was awful,” Buck said. “What the hell do you mean, was it okay?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “We haven’t done that before, jackass,” he said. “I mean, should we talk about this?”

“Oh,” Buck said. “Sure.” He picked at the hem of his shorts with his free hand, the one that wasn’t still holding Eddie’s hand between them. His eyes flicked down to Eddie’s mouth and back up again. “We can talk, if that’s what you want to do.”

Eddie let out a sigh, faux-exasperated. “Shut up,” he said, and hauled Buck back into a kiss, both of them smiling into it.

They kissed and kissed and kissed. They didn’t stop when the movie credits started rolling or when the TV switched itself off automatically, the room darkening around them. They didn’t stop until Buck had kissed the scars on Eddie’s shoulder and the one on his wrist and the goddamn Pokemon band-aids across his knuckles and a lot of other places besides.

It was a Friday night. They’d had a lot of good Friday nights over the years. Eddie had a feeling this one was going to be pretty hard to beat.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No. 16, No. 19, No. 22

Prompt 16: Swamp

Prompt 19: Abandoned cabin

Prompt 22: Tourniquet

Warnings: Animal death; severe injuries

A/N: Sorry for the abrupt ending. This one has been a work in progress since the beginning of the month and I just can’t get it to go any further. Maybe I’ll continue with a second part later.

gif is not mine - google

Neither human nor beast had moved since you had spotted the predator—a dragon by its own right. The alligator’s eyes reflected both the water’s surface and a sinister promise. Daryl, the water easily reaching his shoulders with his feet touching the swamp floor, was breathing quickly through his nose but remained otherwise motionless. The only thing you could see in his eyes was naked, implacable fear. 

“Daryl.” You whimpered. 

“Get outta the water.” You knew better than to argue and moved the slightest inch to turn before he spoke again. “Slow. Don’t splash.” He added. 

“Okay.” You tried to keep your movements fluid, deliberate. Each step beneath the murky surface felt heavy and so slow that you thought you would never feel the water receding around your upper body. You momentarily considered shedding your backpack but decided against it. There was a strange noise behind you but you kept your eyes on the overgrown shoreline. “Daryl?”

“Doin’ great. Keep goin’.” 

You nodded and maintained your glacial pace, bending at the waist as you began to leave the water in order to minimize the droplets that would unsettle the surface. The foreboding sense of being followed gnarled and twisted in your gut, and you allowed yourself to believe it was Daryl inching along behind you. 

“Almost there.” The tremble in his tone was easy to detect. You could also pick up that he was nowhere near behind you. 

“Daryl, how will you—” You didn’t see the debris. Of course you couldn’t through the dingy water. You had barely tripped and hit your knees when all hell broke loose around you. 

“Run, run, GO!” Came Daryl’s roar, a half a second before you heard and felt the chaos erupting. You were moving within milliseconds of his command, making the mistake of looking over your shoulder. 

“Shit!” A second gator had—at some point—surfaced, its tail whipping side-to-side to carry it toward you at a speed you would have never been able to outswim. Clambering onto the shore, the weeds soggy and giving beneath your feet, you ran a few meters ahead, trying hard to ignore the sounds that echoed beyond what could be your approaching death. 

The smaller alligator met land with a speed you hadn’t known the creatures capable of outside the water, its four legs carrying that open maw toward you faster than you were prepared to counter. With your only choices being abandon Daryl or fight, you made the only one with which your heart could live. 

Waiting until the last second, just as the animal lunged for you, you leapt to the side, twisting your body to throw your hunting knife. Those lessons with Daryl had paid off. The alligator slid forward until the momentum waned before going still, your knife protruding from its left eye. 

There was no time to catch your breath. “Daryl!” Between the heavy splashing, you would catch sight of a tail or an arm, the glint of sunlight off a blade. He was fighting for his life and you had no idea how to help him. Did you go back in the water? It’s what you wanted to do. There were likely other gators being attracted by the frenzy. Maybe you could keep them—

“Y’alright?!” 

“Oh, Daryl, thank god.” He was already wading toward you, shaking out his left hand while his right still held his knife. There was a decent amount of blood hitting the water with each flick. “Where did—is it dead?”

The archer shrugged a shoulder. “Dunno. Ain’t waitin’ ‘round to find out neither.” 

You were already reaching for him before he stepped out onto the mud, your hands latching onto his vest to pull him forward into a kiss that had him gasping against your mouth before just as quickly settling to return the gesture. After a few breathless heartbeats, his forehead rested against yours.

“Fancy knife work there.” 

You opened your eyes to find his still closed but you knew what he spoke of without separating from him. “Learned from the best.” You peppered his lips with several more chaste kisses before finally straightening to go retrieve your weapon. “We should probably take a look at—” The words died on your tongue, dissolved by horror and fear. 

Why hadn’t you urged him away from the water? Why hadn’t he moved further on his own? As the strong jaws clamped down around Daryl’s lower leg, the answers you sought no longer mattered. The archer smacked the ground with a shout, attempting to roll over while reaching for his knife. A sharp pull on his leg foiled his attempt. 

“Daryl!” You leapt forward, grabbing for his hand. Your fingers brushed his just as he was yanked into the water, the gator letting go just long enough to seek a better hold, teeth sinking into the flesh of Daryl’s right thigh. He let out a pained yell that followed him beneath the tenebrous marsh. “Daryl, no!”

The surface bubbled and rippled before going still, your heart twisting before it sank. The swamps were silent as you stepped into the shallows, scanning, watching, praying. 

“Daryl.” You whispered frantically, taking another step into the water. If you could do something for Daryl then you’d gladly let death come for you. If you could do nothing, then it could come all the same. Your feet slid forward again, your eyes darting, desperate for just a glimpse of your archer. 

When the surface broke, it was a tail first, then the gator’s belly. Its jaws still held Daryl’s leg as it rolled, his body twisting to turn with the beast. He was alive, and he was trying to remain that way while keeping his limb intact. The gator rolled a second time with Daryl gasping in a frenzied breath before he was plunged once again. 

Gripping the hilt of your knife, you dove under, throwing any consideration of your own safety to the wayside. It was impossible to see below resulting in you reaching for either Daryl or the gator. When you felt something crash into your hand, you made a grab for it and rolled to the surface, quickly opening your eyes to find yourself holding Daryl’s belt. Bending at the waist, you wrapped your legs around him as the movement continued, the gator relentlessly seeking to tear the archer’s leg from his body. 

Above water again, you sucked in a breath and found your target, stabbing at the animal’s head with your knife. You felt it drive home and pulled it free as the rolls continued, repeating the action over and over with nothing but a prayer that you managed the kill and doing so without hitting Daryl. 

The momentum slowed before stopping completely, the water tinted red as you clawed your way to the surface, reaching down to grab Daryl before releasing the hold you had maintained with your legs. 

“Daryl.”

He broke the surface with an agonized groan, groping for you while you held on urgently. 

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Backstroking while pulling him along, you managed to get him to the shoreline and struggled to your feet with your hands beneath his arms. You pulled and pulled, dragging him as far from the water as you could manage. He helped as much as he could with his uninjured leg, digging the heel of his boot into the ground and kicking back. “Let me see.”

The flesh of his thigh was torn, flayed at the edges of two wounds that were at least six inches long. They were deep but showed no bone. His lower leg was not unaffected but lacked the severity of the other injury. 

“Fuck.” You covered your mouth for a moment, watching him collapse onto his back, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. Shedding your bag, you first grabbed a bottle of water, setting to work at cleaning the wound. When he shot upward with a shout, you began to mutter a mantra of I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. 

“Goddamnit!” Daryl exclaimed and fell back again, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. The wound continued to bleed heavily, gaping open in such a way that seized you with panic, grasping for any remembrance of your medical training. 

“Stop the bleeding. Clean the wound.” You could attempt to stitch it later, once the blood clotted—if you could even manage to pull the skin together. Gauze would never cover it but you had little choice but to try, your clothing too wet with the filthy water to aid in staunching the flow. You prayed as you dug through your bag that the harder exterior of the medical kit had protected the contents. 

Your prayers were answered, the supplies were dry. With quick movements, you unbuckled your belt and pulled it free of the loops. Sliding it beneath his leg resulted in a groan and grimace of pain but you couldn’t stop, not until it was pulled tight and fastened above the wound. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You repeated as you released your makeshift tourniquet, satisfied with the visible decrease of blood flow. “You’ll bleed out if I don’t.” Grabbing another bottle of water, you removed the cap and quickly emptied it over the torn flesh, wincing in sympathy. Alcohol would have been preferred but much more painful. Still, you worked with what was available. 

“Do—do whatcha gotta do.” Daryl panted. He pressed his palms into the soggy ground and tried to push himself up, making it only to his elbows before he was out of breath. His left hand was still steadily weeping but at least he had managed to keep all of his fingers. “Christ.” He whispered, his wide eyes obtaining their first look at the wound. 

“I know.” You felt sick. What could you do beyond what had been done already? “We have to get out of here. Find the others and get back to Alexandria.” Square after square of gauze was applied before you wrapped the grizzly wound with the only roll you had to secure and press things into place. 

“S’gettin’ dark.” He commented, head tipped back. He was staring upward toward the canopy as his breathing slowed but failed to return to normal. “Can’t be walkin’ through this shit at night.”

“We can’t stay here, Daryl.” You argued. “There’s more, you know there are.” The swamps of Macon, Georgia were abundant with wildlife, including a healthy affluence of alligators. You were going to absolutely murder Rick for this mission when you and Daryl made it back. 

When. Not if. 

“S’try an’ find a place ain’t around the water.” He was still staring upward, dazed. “Ain’t got long to search ‘fore it gets dark.” When he didn’t make an attempt to move, you gathered all you could into your backpack, save for the knife you secured in the holster on your thigh. You even managed to put Daryl’s knife in its place on this good leg without any acknowledgment from the hunter. 

“Daryl.” You tried, watching the quick but shallow pants of his breath. His skin was still wet with swamp water, but was looking pale. “Daryl.” You attempted more forcefully. 

“Hmm?” He finally rolled his head toward you, the personification of calm. “Oh.” He seemed to finally catch on and started pushing himself upward, making it to a seated position only after you had grabbed beneath his arms and helped. Once it was clear he would not fold over onto his lap, you let go. 

“Gotta get you on your feet.” 

“Ain’t gonna get far.” The way he was behaving was beginning to worry you, his lack of panic—even pain.

“Daryl.” You crouched in front of him, taking another look at his leg. Red was already seeping through the bandage, a dark circle soaked into the soil below his thigh. “I need you with me.”  You said sternly, cupping his face with both hands. His gaze was cloudy, unfocused, and only seemed to clear the slightest fraction when you gave him a gentle shake. “Are you with me?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing. “Yeah.” He rasped. “Yeah, m’with ya.” Then he was actually trying to lever to his feet without your help, your hands frantically scrambling for purchase anywhere they could to provide support. To his credit, he made little noise beyond grunts and one sobbing rush of air once he was upright. 

“Okay, okay. Here we go.” He staggered into you while you assisted in draping his arm across your shoulders. “That wasn’t so hard.” You quipped, grinning up at him when those pretty blues glared at you. You had to keep things light. 

“Think—think you’re funny?” He grunted with the first supported step, his hand grasping for a firm grip on your shoulder. 

“I know I am.” 

“Gonna hafta—file a—a complaint.” 

The steps the two of you managed were small and hindered by the struggle of pulling along his right leg. Between blood loss and the tight tourniquet, it was amazing he could feel anything at all. Still, you trucked onward, boots sinking into the mushy ground. There was just too much water all around, too many threats. You kept your eyes peeled for danger, Daryl’s head now resting against the top of your own. He was getting weaker, slowing down, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep him going. 

When he began to shiver, it wasn’t a gradual transition. One minute he was simply a weight against your side and the next, he was vibrating and his teeth chattering. It was anything but cold. It could only mean one thing. 

“You’re losing too much blood.” You commented, not really with the intent of him hearing. If he did, he didn’t respond. 

The pale light that had been guiding your path had since receded before disappearing completely, leaving the two of you shrouded in darkness. Each step had to be calculated, a gentle touch of the toe of your boot to test the integrity of the ground before you would drag him forward. If you fell into the swamp water now, it would be impossible to pull him out. 

Glowing eyes surrounded you, the reminder that more of the apex predators awaited a single lapse in judgment, one mistake. 

“Talk to me, Daryl.” He was growing heavier and heavier, harder and harder to pull along even if the ground had been sturdy. 

“Called a—a death roll.”

“What?” You queried, truly curious about the topic even if you couldn’t pay him your undivided attention. You stepped across a downed limb, your hands never leaving him before you had to nearly drag him across after you. 

“What that—gator—what it did. S’a death roll.” He stopped talking for a moment, gaining his balance, or at least enough strength to keep him from toppling over. “S’how they—how they rip off chunks,” he sucked in a shaky breath, “to eat.”

The information sat like a stone in your gut. It really had been trying to sever his leg, less interested in killing him and more concerned with tearing off a hunk of him to swallow down. 

“Well.” It was the only thing you could think of to say. The silence ensued and dragged on, your hope being sapped out and left in the trail of disturbed mud his boot was carving with each pull of his useless leg. He was less walking and more limping along beside you in graceless movements that did little more than keep him moving. 

By the time the old cabin—more of a shack, really—came into view, you were barely holding Daryl up. Your strength was waning, your body exhausted. You could hear the moans and gnashing teeth of walkers stuck in the marsh, your consciousness just too lagged to give thanks for their inability to reach you and the archer. The very thought of defending the two of you in your current state made your body ache. 

“Daryl. Daryl, it’s a cabin.” You jostled him with your shoulder, relief flooding your senses when he raised his head, albeit slowly. His only reply was a drawn out hum. “We can make it. Come on.” Drawing upon your reserves, you pulled him along. “Hello?” You called, maneuvering Daryl up the dilapidated steps to the door. There was no response, no candlelight. Abandoned. Or so you had hoped before you heard a thump against the door that was followed by a snarling growl. “Of course!”

The walker—an old man—had a bullet wound through his cheek and you would have bet the entry wound was below his chin. He had missed. Maybe he had died quickly. You wished that for him. Without dwelling, you lured him out, keeping his focus away from the man you had placed on the floor of the porch, behind an old rocker. Your knife met the dead man’s temple at the top of the steps, the body toppling onto the ground and out of your way. 

“Done and done.” You nodded and sheathed your weapon, trudging tiredly toward where Daryl lay prone. “Hey, you still with me?” You patted the side of his boot on his good leg, chuckling when he gave you a weak thumbs up. “Let’s get inside.”

Easier said than done, but once the two of you were safe behind the closed door, you allowed your body the moment of rest it needed, sprawling out next to Daryl on the floor. He was still shivering, breaths shallow, and eyes barely open. Nope, nevermind. You were up immediately, searching for anything you could use. 

A dusty blanket, some dried meat, and a useless med kit were all you managed to scavenge but it was enough. At least for the moment. You wrapped Daryl up tightly inside the blanket after beating the dust from it outside. It would be enough to keep him warm. Your bag was situated beneath his feet, keeping the blood flow closer to his heart. And once you had his head on your lap, you set to work trying to get food and water into him. 

“You need to drink. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” You argued, brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from his face. “You’re already in shock.”

“M’fine. You have it.” 

“If you’re not drinking any, then I’m—”

He groaned. “Fine.” He accepted a few sips before turning away his head. Satisfied, you drank a few of your own and placed the bottle next to your hip. You only had that bottle and one other. That was a worry for another time. 

“Do you think you can navigate us outta here when the sun comes up?” You asked. You tore off a small piece of meat and tapped his chin. He didn’t argue and accepted the offering, allowing you to lift his head slightly so he could swallow. 

“Damn sure gonna try.” His voice was raspy and tired, his eyes remaining closed. The incident and injury had left him drained. You wouldn’t be sleeping that night, that much was certain. 

“Alright. Then you need to rest.” With the meat wrapped and inside your bag, you settled against the wall, humming and running your fingers through his damp hair. 

The cabin was small, everything in one room. A stove on one side, a broken bed on the other. You distantly wondered why anyone would want to live such an isolated life with nothing but beavers and gators for company. 

Daryl groaned from your lap, your expression falling when you saw the pain etched into his sleeping face. There was no way the man would be fit to lead the two of you anywhere. You’d be lucky if he was even still alive when the sun rose. Your best bet was to stay put, keep him warm and hydrated until the others found you. Maybe you could go out and—no. You couldn’t leave him behind. 

How would the two of you get out of this one?

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Invisible Smoke - Three

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he finally gets some answers.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader Word Count: 9k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

A/N: I apologize for the delay and thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter. Life has been a little overwhelming lately. Work has been hectic and I had a close family member pass away. I am hoping to come up for air soon. Thank you for your patience. And I do feel the need to reiterate that I DO NOT keep a tag list. Sorry!

Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, themes of stalking, cursing, mentions of bodily harm/injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

What could you possibly say? The truth was out of the question, at least the entirety of it was. You couldn't and wouldn’t drag him into this more than he already was. Jake deserved better than being wrapped up in your mess. “I got caught up in something above my paygrade a few years ago. Thought I had left it in the past. I’ll take care of it.” You took the Polaroid from his hand and threw it into the footwell in front of you before making sure to press your shoe over it.

Jake was quiet as he started your car and pulled out of the lot, turning toward the direction of your little bungalow. Maybe you should have been surprised he knew the way—he’d only come over with the rest of the Daggers twice and Bradley had been driving—but for some reason it just made sense. Of course Jake would know. His jaw was shut tight, you could see the tendons working as his teeth ground together. But just as quickly as you noticed it, he relaxed. But he didn’t move to turn the radio to a different station or raise the volume. He just kept driving.

The rollercoaster of emotions you’d just endured had you sagging in your seat. While your tears had slowed to a leaky trickle, they didn’t stop. And you wanted to scream, to rage at the cruelty of it all, but mostly what you wanted to do was crawl into bed after making sure your door and windows were locked.

He’d ruined your night. He had somehow found out you were going to the Hard Deck and had purposefully planted that picture. You were almost surprised that he hadn’t slashed your tires when he had the chance, too.

But it mattered little when Jake pulled into your driveway and handed you your keys after shutting off your car. He followed you up to the small, stone stoop and waited until you waved him in to step inside. You felt his eyes on you as you turned the locks on your door and then double-checked the one on the handle before you wiped at your face. Mascara and foundation smeared against your hand and you grimaced as you noticed it. Fantastic.

“Do you want a drink or something? I’m going to call you an Uber but before then? I have tea, water, and soda I know you won’t drink. I don’t keep alcohol in the house, sorry.” You were rambling, you knew that. But did you stop? No. “I can also order something for delivery, if you want.” You sniffled and tried to resist the urge to wipe at your face again.

Jake’s shoulders rolled as if he were trying to shake off a bug before he shook his head. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, Punch? I’ll wait out here.”

That sounded like he was staying. And, really, you knew you should be shoving him out the door and into an Uber you knew would take him back to his car and far away from you and the disaster that was your life. But you still nodded, trying to ignore how you liked knowing he’d just be in the living room, waiting. “Feel free to snoop,” you said, retreating down the hall.

“I’m not going to snoop!”

“Yes, you are.”

**

And then, as soon as Jake heard your bedroom door close, he started to snoop. He did have your permission anyway and that half-assed answer you gave him wasn’t sitting right in his gut. Your little house was neat, if not in need of a bit of dusting. Art prints in soft greens and light yellows were hung in straight lines with personal photographs, in smaller silver frames, dotted between. A bookshelf took up an entire wall and was organized by last name…except for the bottom shelf that was mostly empty with just a small stack of lilac spines and silver lettering. Jake bent to get a better look but paused, spotting two large but thin frames tucked behind the bookcase. He tugged one out and saw that it was your undergraduate degree from some university up the coast. The next frame held your Masters Degree. Both were covered in dust and forgotten about. Almost like you had purposefully shoved them away. Carefully, Jake put them back and tried not to think about why you wouldn’t want them displayed, and instead grabbed one of the lilac books. It didn’t have a traditional cover, just the title: Sunlight Filtered Through Champagne. Below it was a small sticker with “ARC” typed out in bold white letters. Turning the book to look at its spine, the author’s name now accompanied the title: Georgia Torrance. There was a small note sticking out of the top and Jake slowly pulled it out to look at. Thought you may want it in your hands! Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! What did that mean?

When he heard your door open again, he was quick to put the note and book back and stand straight, trying to make it look like he was just looking at the thriller paperbacks on the shelf at his eyeline. It looked like you had a grading system on the shelf, too, scribbled on a small post-it note, denoting happy endings and not-so-happy endings. There was also a note to donate all of the not-so-happy ending books.

It was like you needed hope that a bad situation could end on a good note. And then there were all the locks on your door. The handle of a baseball bat was sticking out from under your little couch. Your curtains were not open when you arrived. You couldn’t read thrillers that ended badly because you were living in a fucked up one yourself, weren’t you?

“I got caught up in something above my paygrade.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. This wasn’t some sort of government cover up. This wasn’t a case of you seeing something you shouldn’t have. The note had been too familiar and the photo had been too intimate.

“You look like you’re trying to think,” you said.

Jake turned and almost swallowed his tongue as he looked at you. You’d switched out your sundress for tiny shorts and socks that went up to your thighs. A baggy Navy t-shirt nearly covered your shorts. You looked so soft, so comfortable even with your eyes still a little swollen from your earlier tears. And it twisted at something warm behind his ribs.

“Careful, you might pull something if you try too hard.” The insult was lacking its usual heat but Jake hardly noticed. Something else had gained his attention. A large gnarled scar was peeking out from under your shorts on your left leg. It reached halfway down your thigh and Jake couldn’t see how high up it went. Whatever had happened, it looked like it had hurt immensely. Then he remembered how the slits in your dresses were always on your right side. Your shorts, while tight, always reached your knees. You had been hiding it.

Who had hurt you?

He must have been staring too long because you angled your body away from him and cleared your throat. “I’m gonna call you an Uber. Sorry for my freak out earlier. You coulda been home and asleep by now. Or picking up someone at the Hard Deck. God, I really fucked up your night.”

You were rambling again. And maybe Jake would have found it endearing in any other circumstance but not when you were twisting your hands into the excess fabric of your shirt and shuffling away from him to grab your phone.

Slowly, as to not startle you, Jake reached out and gently took the phone from your hands and set it on the couch cushion. Your face scrunched with your confusion and the divot between your eyebrows only deepened when Jake set his hands on your shoulders. “You gonna tell me what actually happened?”

Your features shifted and shuttered, falling into the casual annoyance you usually wore around him. “I told you-”

“Yeah, you told me something. Now tell me the truth. I was in that car with you tonight, Punch. I saw how scared you were. A picture had you just as scared as nearly getting run off the highway. Tell me what is going on, please.”

Your jaw clenched and you wiggled out from under Jake’s grip. “So you’re calling me a liar now?”

“No! I just-”

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this, okay? I am. I never should have brought you to the party. You never should’ve been in the car.”

You weren’t getting it. He needed you to understand. “I’m glad I was with you! I’m glad you had me with you—but you can’t just tell me that you have it handled or brush it off because-”

“I’m not brushing anything off!” You snarled. “Stop trying to play hero!”

It may have been easier if you had just slapped him. Was that how you saw him? “I’m not playing at anything. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me try.”

The glint in your eyes was near murderous. Jake had only ever seen you look like this once before and it had been when some asshole had yanked on Penny’s arm at the Hard Deck. “Just stop! I-”

“I know something is going on. You can’t convince me otherwise, all right? My mama always said that if you smell smoke, it’s ‘cause there’s a fire.”

You wiped a hand over your eyes and Jake hated how he noticed your chin wobbling. “Your stupid southern colloquialisms do not apply to this situation. There is no smoke!”

Jake stepped forward again and peeled your hand away from your face, sighing as he saw fresh tears lining your lashes. He never wanted to make you cry. Not ever. “There is smoke. And I want to help you. Let me help you.”

You sniffled and looked away from him again but didn’t pull your hands out of his grip. “I don’t fucking understand this metaphor. A-and I don’t want to tell you.”

The words cracked in your throat and Jake only squeezed at your hands. He was here for you. Couldn’t you see that?

“Invisible smoke or not, I’m not going to tell you. I’m not.” You shook your head and finally pulled your hands from his and Jake was prepared for you to step back and tell him to leave, to tell him, again, that you had this handled. Instead, your warm palms pressed against his chest and your tear filled gaze locked on his face. His next breath stalled. God, you were beautiful. “I don’t want to be the one to make you look at me differently. Just…just let me have the rest of this night, okay? I’ll text Bradley and tell him that he can tell you. But just let me have this last night where I’m not some stupid, broken girl in your eyes.”

Jake reached up and settled his hands over yours, noticing how goosebumps raced up your arms when his thumbs brushed against your knuckles. “You could never be. You’ll always be Punch.”

You sighed and almost smiled at him before shaking your head, pulling your hands out from under his. “No, I won’t.”

**

You weren’t entirely sure how you managed to convince Jake to watch a movie with you instead of talking or prying more, but you had a bowl of half eaten microwave popcorn between you on the cushions and The Mummy playing on your television.

This wasn’t how you saw this night playing out. Of course, a person could never really fit a car chase and a quick emotional breakdown into their schedule so, perhaps this was the best possible outcome. As Brendan Fraser’s Rick O’Connell gave Evy a pilfered toolkit in the most adorably awkward manner, your gaze drifted over to Jake.

And he was looking right at you.

Shit. Embarrassed heat washed over you and you quickly looked back at the television.

“C’mere.”

“What?” It was barely more than a squeak and you stubbornly refused to move your gaze away from the television again.

“I know you heard me,” Jake repeated, a bit of a laugh cracking his words. “Come here.”

“I’m not a dog, you know,” you bit back before you could think of being polite. Old habits do die hard.

But it seemed like Jake didn’t particularly care, because he moved the popcorn bowl onto your coffee table and then grabbed at your legs, dragging you over to him with a simple tug. The noise that escaped you was a mortifying mix of a squeak and a yelp and you fell forward with the force of it, hands falling against his arm and shoulder awkwardly. His warm, work-rough hands slid up your thighs, skirting over the scar that still left you grimacing even if the pain had faded years ago, and settled on the curve of your waist. Then, with another simple movement, your thighs were bracketing his and he was looking up at you with the stupid, beautiful sea glass eyes. There was something in his gaze you didn’t recognize.

Or maybe you did and you couldn’t voice it.

“What’re you-”

“You look like you needed a hug.”

You arched a brow and ignored the thundering of your heart. How many times had you thought about something like this only to curse your wandering thoughts? “Oh?”

“Yeah. And I’ve been told I give the best hugs.”

Your mouth twisted to the side—you weren’t sure if you were fighting a smile or a snarl. “Who told you that? Which one of your bed warmers-”

The words stalled behind your teeth when Jake leaned up just enough to wrap his arms around you, warm and solid. And you hated that it immediately brought tears to your eyes. God, how long had it been since someone had hugged you like this? Held you like this? You melted into his grasp like butter on hot toast, going slack against him until your forehead rested on the broad expanse of his shoulder. Jake’s movements halted for a moment. And, if you had been anyone else, you might have said you felt his breath catch. But you knew better.

“This means nothing, you know,” you said, one last ditch effort to not let him know how pathetically easy you were enraptured with his easy touch. “I’m withholding my judgment on if you give good hugs or not.”

You heard him smile before his hands continued their smoothing motions up and down your spine. “Okay, Punch.”

You could have argued a little more. Maybe mentioned how he probably needed a hug more than you or how you wouldn’t feel bad when his legs fell asleep under your weight. But you didn’t. You didn’t because you were so comfortable and your favorite movie was playing in the background and Jake’s cologne smelt so good…who could blame you for falling asleep?

**

You snored. Just a little. It honestly reminded him of like…a baby bear for some reason. But maybe you were just extra tired. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t been sleeping well. Either way, Jake slowly slid one arm beneath your butt and kept the other a little higher on your back and gently lifted you up from the couch; your head lolled to the side and fell against his chest as you let out a heavy breath. Jake pretended not to feel how you rubbed your cheek against him and let out a soft hum. Or maybe he filed that little sound away to think about later. Either way, Jake made his way down the short hallway and pushed open your door with his foot, wincing as its hinges whined.

Your eyes opened the slightest bit as soon as your head hit the pillow and Jake was sure he would never forget the smile you shot at him.

Then he was thinking about waking up every morning to your sleepy, happy smile. He was thinking about carrying you to bed after a long night at the Hard Deck. He was thinking of you. He had always tried to shove those thoughts down. He had tried to ignore them because he knew—he knew—that nothing could come of it. But now he couldn’t. He knew what it was like to hold you in his arms. He could deal with the paperwork, admirals, and ribbing from the Daggers…if it meant he could…well, he’d finish that thought when he knew you were thinking the same thing.

After shutting your door, and making a mental note to pick up some WD-40 for those squeaky hinges, he made his way back to your living room. He picked up the popcorn bowl and washed it out and then straightened the cushions, just like his mama taught him to do. The movie finished as Jake sat on your couch and dug his phone out of his pocket. It was well past one in the morning but he still pulled up Bradshaw’s contact and typed out a message. We need to talk.

He’d probably hear from him in the mor-

His phone beeped with a new message and he was quick to click on the thread. I’m on my way.

Wasn’t he supposed to be out in the desert with Maverick? What did he mean he was on his way?

Apparently Rooster was also psychic because another message came through. Cut trip short. Will be at her house in an hour.

So, Jake waited. He played a stupid game on his phone to pass the time and made sure it was muted so it wouldn’t wake you up. Every time he heard a car pass by, he checked the window. He needed to make sure it wasn’t the charger again and he wanted to meet Bradley at the door so you wouldn’t wake up when he knocked. Five more rounds of the mindless game on his phone and then he was standing up again, and watching a familiar Bronco pull onto your driveway behind your car. He was surprised to see Maverick exit the passenger side but waved them both in when they approached the door.

“Where is she?” Bradshaw asked instead of a greeting.

“She’s asleep,” Jake hissed. “Keep your voice down.”

“Have you checked all the windows?” Maverick asked, voice thankfully at the correct decibel.

“A couple times,” Jake said. Maverick knew too? Was he the only one that didn’t know what you were hiding? “Are either of you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Maverick looked at Rooster but Rooster was looking right at Jake, mouth set in a firm line beneath his ridiculous mustache. “I gotta see her first. All right? We’ll stay with her for the rest of the night.”

That just about crawled all over Jake. He was just going to shove him out? After everything that’s happened tonight? “No. No, this is fucking ridiculous. Tell me-”

“Seresin,” Maverick cut in. “You’ve had a long night. Why don’t you head back to base and get some sleep?”

“I-”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander.”

That simple phrase repeated in his head as he sat in the back of the Uber headed toward the Hard Deck, and when he drove himself home, and as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander. What it actually was, was insulting. But he did as he was ordered, knowing that Mav and Rooster were trying to take care of you (and Maverick did have the authority to have him brought up in front of the brass)…but why didn’t they see that Jake was trying to help, too? As he stewed, his phone chirped with a notification from his sister, Mia. It was a picture of her sitting out on a familiar porch swing, the Texas night sky on display over her head as she smiled at the camera. She was holding up a cup—Jake knew it was probably filled with her favorite chamomile blend from a shop a few towns over from the family ranch. Hope you’re getting more sleep than me!

Jake sighed for the umpteenth time. Mia’s ex-husband, a man named Ryan who Jake had never liked, had up and left her for a coworker. She was understandably heartbroken and then when she discovered that Ryan had a child on the way with his mistress while Mia had been struggling to have a baby, she had been near inconsolable. It had taken her nearly a week for Jake and his sisters and mom to get Mia out of bed. It had been slow going to help her get back on her feet, even after the lawyer his mom hired managed to get Mia all of the marital assets and half of Ryan’s monetary savings alongside a hefty alimony. Mia had always been the strongest of his sisters, an older sister to the core, who had truly stepped up when their father had stepped out on their mother. It had been a cruel twist of fate that Mia’s marriage had turned out to mirror their mother’s so closely. Jake spoke with each of his sisters at least once a week, mostly just making sure they were doing okay and to lessen the bit of guilt he had for leaving Texas and them in the rear view when he joined the Navy. After tonight, he could use a little talk with his sister.

Jake hit the small phone icon beneath her name and it rang twice before she picked up. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up with my text.”

“I was awake.”

“What’re you doing up right now?” She grumbled.

“Had a long night.” That was putting it lightly.

“I thought you were going out with that girl, Punch? Not the girl of your dreams anymore?”

Jake bit back the groan he felt rising in his throat. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to. You’re my baby brother and I know you. She a bad kisser or something?”

“We are not in high school and I’m not having this conversation with you,” he grumbled, feeling heat start to flood his face.

Thankfully or not, there was a strange fluttering sound on the other end of the line, followed by a muttered, “shit!”

“Everything okay?” Ryan had shown up at the ranch Mia and their mother now shared more than once, raging about the divorce decree and/or asking for a second chance in the next breath.

“Yeah, just dropped my book.” There was a long sigh and Jake imagined her settling back down onto the well worn cushion in the swing.

“What’re you reading?”

“A book.”

He rolled his eyes but felt a smile pushing at his mouth. She could always make him laugh. “Mia.”

“Jacob.” She snickered before continuing. “The author’s name is Georgia Torrance. She writes romances and if you judge me I’ll figure out a way to get your superiors to ground you from flying for, like, three days at least.”

Jake’s smile widened the slightest bit before something clicked. Georgia Torrance. That was the name on the strange books in your home. Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! You had written them, hadn’t you? Under a fake name, sure, but that was you.

If this were any other situation, Jake would drive back to you and simply ask if had a second job as a writer but he’d been banished from your house by his superior officer. So, he’d just bide his time with that, too, he guessed.

“I think I’ve heard of her. She has a few books, right?”

His sister giggled down the line. “Oh, they’re some of my favorites. Me and a few of the other girls have been getting together, like a book club, to read them. It’s fun.”

Jake smiled. She was doing okay, leaning on her friends. “You like those scandalous books, Mia? Gram would be mortified.”

Mia hushed him, but another giggle softened the blow. “They’re a great escape from the shitstorm of my life right now. Don’t judge me. They really are well written! And they’re so soft, Jake! Like, you can tell the characters actually care about each other.” There was a wistful sigh on the other end. “And she does this thing in all of her books.”

“Thing?”

“Yeah, the hero in some fashion or way, always ends up carrying the heroine to bed. Just to sleep. It is in all of her books. It’s her thing. Her trope, or whatever. It is so romantic.”

The sleepy, happy smile you’d given him flashed in his mind and the smallest bit of tension released in his chest. He had made you smile while doing something you, apparently, thought was romantic.

“Are you okay?” Mia asked, pulling Jake from his reverie.

His answering sigh crackled over the phone and he thought of your smile again. “Don’t worry about me.”

**

Someone was sitting on your bed. You had the vague realization of the weight as you teetered between sleep and wakefulness. “Jake?”

“‘s me, Punch.”

You smacked yourself in the face while attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Bradley? Aren’t you still supposed to be out in the desert with Captain Mitchell?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “But my favorite mechanic was apparently auditioning for the Fast and the Furious and we cut the trip short.”

Even in the dark of your room, you could see Bradley smile. “You hate those movies,” you said, hating how your voice started to quake. Hadn’t you cried enough?

“I do. Now, are you gonna tell me what happened? And why fucking Hangman was acting like your guard dog?”

Heat dragged up your neck and you were thankful for the dark of your room so Bradley wouldn’t see you almost smile into your pillow. “Is he still out in the living room?” He’d stayed for you.

“Mav sent him home. Wanted me to tell him everything the second we got in.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Bradley sighed again and his warm hand landed softly on your arm. He squeezed it gently. “Had to make sure you were okay first. You will always be the priority.”

“I shouldn’t be,” you muttered. “God, I’m not worth any of this. You should have seen him tonight, Bradley. He just wouldn’t stop. It was a goddamn miracle I was able to get us out of that without totaling my car. And Jake was just…” Traitorous tears stung at your eyes but you let them fall because Bradley had seen you battered and bloody; he could withstand your tears. “Jake was so nice to me. Patient. He doesn’t deserve to be wrapped up in this. None of you do.”

“Hey,” Bradley started, whispered tone bordering on disappointed. “Stop saying shit like that. I’ve told you this a thousand times: you are worth everything. You deserve better than the shitty hand you were dealt. And remember whose dumbass started all this? Me. It was me.”

“It wasn’t you though,” you said, trying to breathe through the tears still trying to choke you.

But Bradley said nothing else but moved a little closer to you on the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You weren’t entirely sure when you fell back asleep but you woke a few hours later with the first rays of daylight peeking through your curtains. It felt like you’d inhaled brick dust after being battered with said brick. Embarrassment was gnawing on your ribs as you rolled out from under your tangled blankets and set your feet on the floor. Everything had gone off the metaphorical rails last night. And a part of you ached at the thought of not having Jake around, even on the periphery, because you knew he would want nothing to do with you after he knew.

You stretched, hearing your back crack, and padded out toward the kitchen where you’d bet Bradley was waiting. And, yep, he was leaning against your counter, sipping on coffee you only kept in the house for him. His hazel eyes looked you over before he set down the mug, porcelain clacking against the linoleum. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit. Where’s Captain Mitchell?” You asked as you stepped into the kitchen, too, intent on getting to the lemon poppy seed muffins you saw sitting on the counter. Bradley’s hand slowly raising to block your path had you whining. “Why are you being me to me? I am in need of food.”

“You’re a brat,” he said with absolutely no heat. “And how many times has Mav said you could call him Pete when we aren’t on base?” He grabbed one of the muffins and shoved it at you. A few crumbs fell to your kitchen floor and you knew you’d have to sweep later. But not now. You took a large bite and almost moaned at the taste of it and continued to ignore Bradley’s question. Maverick was your superior. That was it. Keeping people at arm’s length kept them safe—well, you knew that he knew about your predicament but that didn’t mean he needed to be tangled up in it, too. “He picked those up for you this morning before he went to Penny’s for breakfast. Said Ice mentioned they were your favorite?”

You nodded and felt your lips curling up in a smile between bites. “He and Sarah took me to the bakery about a week after I got stationed here.” Tom had insisted that the poppy seed muffins were the best he’d ever tasted and after one bite, you agreed.

Bradley reached for one and hummed after he took a bite, nodding before taking another.

You two ate in silence for a little longer before Bradley, with his stupid baby cow hazel eyes, looked at you again. “What?”

“I checked the house over. It looks like nothing’s been messed with. But why don’t you come stay with me-”

“No.”

Bradley looked like he was trying not to sigh. “Punch, c’mon. It’ll just be until-”

“Until what, Bradley? I can handle this. He…he’ll probably disappear again and we can just forget this ever happened.”

“He tried to run you and Seresin off the road, Punch. Let me help.”

“You already did! You brought me muffins and checked out my house after staying the night when you should’ve been out in the desert and working on Mav’s plane. And that’s just today. You have done enough.”

Bradley’s eyes narrowed as he shoved the rest of the muffin into his mouth—which was ridiculous! He wasn’t even savoring it!—before sighing. “Fine. But you call me if you need anything, okay? Or Bob.” He then paused and you hated how his brow arched. That always meant he was going to say something he thought was clever but was actually stupid. “Or you could call Hangman.”

Embarrassed heat started to claw at your neck and you tried to ignore it and the knowing look in Bradley’s eyes. “You’re being mean.”

“You are asking me to tell him what the hell you have lurking in the shadows-”

“Don’t say lurking in the shadows. We aren’t in a horror movie.”

“-and you still refuse to see how much that guy is in love with you?”

The heat was now scalding and you were sure that your internal temperature had risen a few degrees, too. “Ken isn’t in love with me.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

Were you in love with Jake? No. That couldn’t be possible because, after everything, you knew that being in love and being loved just wasn’t in the cards for you. And the Navy would never allow it. And Jake was…Jake was your friend. And so far out of your league it was ridiculous. You weren’t his type anyway. And you didn’t have a type but if you did it would probably be…Jake. But you didn’t have time to think about that now because there was a tight feeling in your chest and your eyes were watering again and you knew that you were actually…probably…definitely…pathetically in love with Jake Seresin. Shit.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter if I am or not. None of that matters,” you bit out as you blinked back the tears. “Also, when are you going to tell Natasha how you feel?”

Just as you anticipated, Bradley’s cheeks filled with pink and it was his turn to look away. “I’ve got a plan,” he muttered.

The smallest bit of tension slipped from your spine as you realized your diversion had worked, at least marginally. Bradley did have a bad habit of jumping back to conversations you had thought you had moved on from. Oh well. “So you’re not denying it anymore? No more ‘we’re just friends’ or ‘you’re reading into it,’ now?”

The pink in his cheeks grew darker as he reached out to lightly flick at your arm. “I guess.”

Well, at least you had this small victory. And god knows he had been ignoring his feelings for Natasha for years. You surely hadn’t been the only one to notice; Natasha was just as far gone for Bradley but she at least hid it better. You were sure only you and Bob knew about her feelings. “If I were mean, I’d make you tell me your plan. But I am feeling charitable today and will just wish you the best.”

“You’re such a brat.” He pulled you into a hug and sponged a loud kiss onto your forehead before stepping back. After you told him to go home and actually rest, that you’d be fine for the rest of the weekend, and Bradley once again telling you to call him if you needed anything, he left with a final, “lock your door!” thrown over his shoulder.

And then you were alone again. Your heart gave a startled leap when you heard a car door slam a few moments later but you heard your neighbor’s squeaky front door open and close and pushed out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Great. You eventually swept the kitchen floors and double checked the windows before making the short trek out to your mailbox to check the mail. You stepped back inside and engaged all the locks before sorting through the small stack of envelopes and advertisements. Most were junk and quickly shredded and then put in the recycling bin. You smiled as you recognized your sister’s handwriting across one of the envelopes. Georgie still maintained that you should FaceTime every other week but her letters were a more frequent occurrence. This one was filled with details about her pregnancy and how her husband is being adorable about setting up everything in the nursery. She asked about your job and if you had any suggestions about what to get for your brother, Danny, for his upcoming birthday. You set the letter aside to flip through the rest of the stack but your heart fell to your feet when you saw the last thing in your hand.

It was another goddamn Polaroid. And part of you wished that it had just been you. Just you trapped in that white box. But no. It was Jake. Just Jake. It was him walking out to your car while you’d still been parked at the Hard Deck last night. Poorly drawn blood was bisecting his neck—it was supposed to look like his throat had been slashed, you assumed. It was a shitty drawing but it got the point across.

He could hurt Jake. He could hurt Jake simply because he was near you.

And you wouldn’t ever let that happen. There’d never been a threat like this before—Bradley and Bob never received one and you had been given no threats for them, either. So, it was just Jake. Just your Ken. You needed to keep him safe. Even if it cracked at something behind your ribs.

With all the subtlety of a freight train, you started avoiding him at work. If he walked in a room, you’d walk out. You bribed other ADs to be the ones to handle Jake’s jet. You didn’t go to the Hard Deck if you knew he was going to be there—which was more often than not. You ignored him whenever he called your name. It created a strange waiting game—you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had been called into Admiral Simpson’s office and reprimanded for disrespecting a superior officer. But weeks trickled by and nothing happened except Captain Mitchell giving you a disappointed look and Natasha asking if you and Jake hooked up and if it was bad enough for you to avoid him. After explaining that there was definitely not a hookup (true) and you definitely weren’t avoiding him (lie), you let yourself believe that you had managed to ghost him enough to keep him safe. When you received another Polaroid of you and Jake from the night of Junior’s party with Jake’s face scratched out and the words “I knew he couldn’t handle you” scrawled across the bottom, you knew you’d made the right choice. Then the next note, a singular scrap of paper tucked into the crease between your front door and its frame, read “all alone again? you never know how to treat them!,” your resolve only strengthened.

He could think you hated him forever as long as he was safe.

You could watch him flirt with every beautiful woman who looked in his direction and ignore how your entire body flinched at the sight as long as he was safe.

He just needed to be safe.

**

It had been three weeks since you had fallen asleep in Jake’s arms. And three weeks since you’d spared him more than a side-eyed glance. Rooster had been acting strange, too. While the other pilot hadn’t been avoiding him exactly, Rooster had volunteered to help Mav with the current Top Gun class and had been squirreled away in his office or in the classroom when not in the air. And while Jake could have metaphorically cornered Rooster by asking him over the comms, he wouldn’t ever bring up your name like that when other people were listening. So, when Maverick decided that the newest class needed to be introduced to Dog Fight Football after three pilots got into a screaming match and nearly collided with Phoenix and Bob during a dogfight simulation, he knew this was an opening he needed to take.

In passing, Jake also took the opportunity to ask if the support crew would be invited and earned an unimpressed look coupled with a, “they have been told that they are encouraged and welcome to come, Seresin.” Jake didn’t even care that Mav probably (definitely) knew what he was really asking because he overheard you telling Fanboy that you’d be there because Penny wanted someone to sit with. Perfect.

And you looked perfect when he saw you the next morning. Sitting on a low rise sun chair with Penny at your side and your toes buried in the sand, you had on that pair of shorts Jake dreamed about and a loose fitting shirt with the Dagger Squadron emblem over your heart. You were beautiful. He wasn’t going to shy away from it any more. No more using ‘special’ to hide everything else he wanted to feel. You were beautiful.

Now, Jake knew he was good looking. There was no arguing that. So, why not use it to his advantage? He strode up to you and watched as you looked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. And your face revealed nothing. You were a stone wall when you craned your neck to look up at him but he was undeterred.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Punch.” He then grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it onto your lap as he subtly flexed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you hold that for me?”

You seemed to freeze for a moment before grabbing the shirt and neatly folding it. “Sure.” Then you leaned to the side, completely ignoring him, and shouted, “Bradley! Give me your shirt before it gets wet!” Rooster’s shirt eventually turned into Javy’s shirt, Phoenix’s shirt, and Payback’s shirt, and then you made sure that Bob had enough sunscreen on. And Jake watched all of it happen, little more than another bit of sand on your periphery. Just as he was about to call it quits on this attempt, you called out to him. He turned to you to see you looking at him over the edge of your sunglasses again. “Pull up your shorts. You’re about to give everyone a show.”

Penny let out a choked laugh that she tried to hide behind her hand before Jake tugged at the waistband of his shorts, moving them up marginally.

“There you go, Ken. Now you’re almost suitable for public consumption.”

“I prefer private consumption, Punch.” Jake winked at Penny when she laughed again before turning his attention back to you. “I could give you a free preview after we show these kids how to play nicely with each other.”

Jake watched you roll your lips into your mouth before you turned your head away as you pretended (he was sure!) to straighten the small stack of shirts you had collected. “That’s inappropriate. And you of all people don’t know how to play nicely.”

“Oh, Punch,” Jake said, letting as much of his Texan twang seep into his tone as possible when he leaned down to make sure you could look him in the eye (or ogle him correctly). “I play very nicely.”

You licked your lips and looked away but Jake saw your throat bob. “Make sure to tackle Royal into the sand,” you said, mentioning one of the Top Gun pilots who had been involved in the screaming match. “He’s been acting up with the other ADs.”

Well, that was a start. Maybe. “You got it, Punch.”

Then, forty-two seconds into the game, Jake did just that. He looked back at you to see you hiding a laugh behind your hands while Penny roared beside you as Royal yelled about getting sand in his mouth.

The game continued and the grumpy group of pilots eventually started to get along–not as well as the Dagger Squad, but they were something special. Maverick seemed to agree with the exasperated look he shared with Jake and Rooster when they finally called it a day. Penny invited them all up to the Hard Deck for a drink and that seemed to smooth the rest of the rough edges this group came in with, or at least most of them. Maverick bought the first round but Jake was quick to buy another for the Dagger Squadron when that was quickly drained. And, because he was definitely trying to track you through the steadily growing crowd (covertly), Jake spotted you at one of the hightops outside on the deck. Bob and Phoenix were with you, laughing at something you said.

That was the happiest he’d seen you in weeks. Your smile was actually reaching your eyes—your eyes that finally had that light in them that had been missing.

A hand fell onto his shoulder and Jake swung around to see Bradshaw handing him another beer. Even though Jake was less than halfway into the one he already had. “Thanks, man.”

Rooster nodded and took a long pull from his beer before glancing at you, too. He rolled his shoulders before waving his bottle toward the door that led out to the beach. “Let’s talk.” He led Jake onto the sand with quick steps and then stopped just short of the water’s edge.

The other man was quiet for a stretched moment, quiet long enough for Jake to think he wasn’t actually going to say anything but-

“She saved my life.”

Jake tried to process the words before a scratchy “what?” was pulled out of his throat.

Bradshaw took another pull from his beer and then set the empty bottle into the sand by his feet. “The mechanic assigned to me when we were overseas talked a big game—his dad was some big shot who was buddies with the brass at the Pentagon. Name was Luke. He was a shit mechanic, to tell you the truth. Punch would sometimes come in behind him, usually after hours, and double check everything he did. I would talk to her whenever I caught her doing it. She was embarrassed and asked me not to tell anyone and for a few weeks I just didn’t see her, didn’t think anything of it, really. Maybe because I thought she was finally doing something about all the bruising I kept seeing crop on her face. She changed the subject when I asked her once if she was okay.” Jake knew what self-loathing sounded like and right now it was bleeding out of Bradshaw’s every word.

“Then, one day, we get sent out. I run in and half-ass my preflight checks because I was a stupid kid who wanted to make a name for himself. I wasn’t always so careful.” He bared his teeth for a moment. “Stupid. I was so stupid. I’m about to get into the slingshot and she just darts out in front of me, waving her arms and screaming something I can’t hear. She nearly gets taken down by MPs and other officers and I’m fuming, I’m so mad that the rest of my squadron get to go out and I’m grounded by some crazy mechanic.” He shook his head before his hands curled to fists at his sides. “But I’ll never forget how desperate she sounded, screaming that the routine maintenance I would have been needing for the past three weeks hadn’t been done properly. He had been drunk in the hangar. For weeks. When my commander looked my plane over, he said I was lucky I wasn’t sitting in a goddamn body bag. It was a ticking time bomb.”

Jake’s heartbeat was echoing in his ears as he looked at Bradshaw. But more was yet to come.

“I found her trying to hold her leg together just outside the hangar. That asshole took a pair of pliers and…” Rooster’s hand twisted and jerked and Jake could imagine the sharp tool moving like that, moving against you. “He did it just to…just to make her bleed and try to make her apologize for saving my life. One of her eyes was swollen shut and she…” His mouth twisted to the side as if he needed to compose himself before continuing. “She could barely tell me who did it to her before she passed out. Punch was in medical for a week. They wouldn’t let me see her; the only visit I got was from two star who asked what I knew. The next thing I know, she’s been sent back to her shore station and Luke’s disappeared, too. It took me months to learn that all that guy got was a damn Letter of Admonishment and a commercial flight back home.”

“That’s it? That’s all he got?” Rage punctuated each syllable, an unmistakable and inescapable heat starting to burn in his chest.

Rooster scrubbed a hand down his face before continuing. “And what makes it fucking worse is that she was dating him. Dating himand coming to the hangar looking like she’d just gone three rounds with a heavyweight and I didn’t connect the dots until that two star let it slip.”

The rageful heat in Jake’s chest splintered as he thought of you being hurt like that by someone you trusted. How could someone do that to you while claiming to love you? How could anyone do that?

“This was my fault. Mine. She may think it is all hers but if I had asked her just one more time if she needed help, I could have had Luke dishonorably discharged and Punch would be…”

Safe.

Healthy.

Unafraid.

“She was so in love with him and he made her believe he would be the only one who could ever love her. Got it in her mind that no one else would ever lower themselves to love her.”

There was a pointed look shot in his direction that Jake tried to not read too much into (right now).

But Rooster pressed on. “I took a gamble and called Tom…Admiral Kazansky,” he quickly reiterated. “He’d been just about as constant in my life as he could be, you know. Always said I could call if I needed anything. And I just needed her safe.”

The strange look in Rooster’s gaze kept Jake quiet despite the dozens of questions running through his mind.

“He learned what happened and what she did and the next day she gets orders to Hawaii. Then to Kitsap in Washington. The furthest east she got was Fallon in Nevada. She was firmly planted under Kazansky’s oversight. I thought it would keep her safe.”

“But she kept volunteering for deployments,” Jake said after Bradshaw fell into an agitated quiet, like he was searching for words. He didn’t think that your throwaway anecdote from the engagement party would mean this.

“That piece of shit somehow found out where she was going to be at a port call and arrived the day before she was supposed to get back on the carrier. He nearly strangled her to death.”

The murmured stories you had half heartedly given were starting to create a through line. “That was when Bob stepped in. He said they met on deployment.”

Rooster nodded. “Apparently that LoA was to blame for Luke not getting promoted. He blamed her. It didn’t matter that she could have gone in front of the brass and had him court martialed. It didn’t matter that she took money from his just-as-shitty father to keep her quiet. He still saw her as the reason he was given a goddamn slap on the wrist for nearly killing us both. She was still the one that managed to get away. He should be in prison and he was mad about not making rank. Bob was the one who dragged him in front of the brass but that basically amounted to nothing. Again. She refuses to go to the cops because she thinks they’ll just brush it off or cover it up like everyone else does.” He knocked his foot against the empty bottle for a moment before turning to look at you back on the deck. Jake looked, too, seeing you let Phoenix drag you around in a dance. You threw your head back with a laugh as you nearly fell. Bob was cheering you both on. “Kazansky then had her stationed here,” Bradshaw said as they both turned back to look at the ocean. “It was a smart move. Kept her safe. The pilots never stayed but the ADs rarely rotated out. She saw it as a glass half full type of situation—she was trusted with the planes of the best pilots in the Navy but she wouldn’t have the opportunity to deploy as often, if at all. I’m pretty sure Kazansky had Luke shadowbanned from any of the stations he oversaw.”

But now Admiral Kazansky was dead, that was unspoken.

“And now Luke’s back.” The words sounded muffled to Jake’s ears as he said them. His heart thudded against his ribs as his stomach twisted. Luke was back. You were in danger. There was no denying it now.

“He is. And she seems to think that you’ve gained that douchebag’s attention and she just wants to keep you safe,” Bradshaw continued, an edge of exasperation starting to soak each syllable. “You are both so fucking stupid-”

“Hey.”

“-but I need you to help keep her safe, yeah? She’s going to fight you on it. Even more than she has already. But-”

“I’ll do it.” The words punched out of Jake with his next breath. And he meant it. “Whatever you think I need to do, I’ll do it.”

His wingman almost smiled at that. Almost. But he shook his head instead. “Seresin-”

“Punch?”

Both Jake and Bradshaw whipped their heads around back to look at the deck.

“Punch?!” Phoenix was leaning over the railing to crane her neck to the side in search of you, presumably. Bob was doing the same in the opposite direction but his face was scrunched in something almost like fear. “Punch?”

You appeared around the corner, balancing a tray of new drinks for your little group. Both Phoenix and Bob’s faces relaxed as they took the offered drinks, each kissing your cheek in thanks. As you set the tray down and said something to them Jake couldn’t hear before you turned just enough to see Jake looking at you. The carefree smile on your face faded as you glanced at Rooster at his side. You knew he had been told. Your chin tucked to your chest before you abruptly turned back to your other friends.

You truly thought he wouldn’t still want you?

That rage returned, burning behind Jake’s ribs. Not at you. Never at you. At Luke who had beaten you down physically and emotionally hard enough for you to believe that no one would love you.

But Jake was here. He would always be here. Waiting for you.

A/N: thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

[lemotmo]

one thing i'm a bit worried about as we got into season 8 is that there are a lot of fans talking about buddie like it's an inevitability and saying things like "buddie canon confirmed" because of the bts stuff we've seen.

it feels like people are setting themselves up for being disappointed and mad if buddie doesn't end up going canon (and honestly, it's kind of their fault for reading so much into fun little posts from the cast when the only way they'd ever confirm buddie is in an episode).

i really want buddie to be canon, but I'm keeping my expectations low because I don't want to be disappointed and it feels like people should be prepared for that potential outcome.

All right Nonny, here's the thing...

I get it. I completely understand what you are saying. I have been in the 911 fandom since season 1 (not so much on Tumblr) and when season 2 happened I hopped onto the Buddie train (on Tumblr).

I have been there, season after season after season. I saw people building up a lot of hope only for that hope to end up in disappointment. And I felt some of that disappointment as well. Although I have to admit I was always on the sidelines. I never really thought it would ever go canon. I hoped for it, but I had very low expectations.

After all, both men were canonically straight. Even though we could all see the queer-coding, fundamentally nothing ever changed. Buddie got closer than ever, but they still had girlfriends and relationships.

So yeah, I didn't have high expectations and I was happy just chilling in my little Buddie corner, speculating and reading/writing fan fic. Just genuinly having a good time.

But then season 7 happened. The show got cancelled by FOX at the end of season 6 and ABC picked it up. The first thing ABC did was put Ryan and Oliver front and center, having them freely talk about Buddie. I couldn't believe my eyes when these interviews happened. Articles were written, not just by smaller click bait sites, but actual reputable magazine sites. I watched all of this with wide eyes, not sure what to think of it. 'Would they? Could they?'

Then another bomb went off when 7x04 happened and Buck came out as bisexual. I was floored. For the first time in 6 seasons, I started entertaining the idea that the show might just go there. If they made Buck bisexual, surely they wouldn't ignore the highly popular Buddie aspect of it? Would they?

Let's not get into the whole Tommy debacle that happened afterwards. Because in the end it's not important for this answer. Tommy has been set up as a narrative device to help Buck out of the closet. He isn't even a factor in the overspanning Buddie arc we've seen progressing over 6 seasons.

I also want to add that it's crazy that we know for sure that it was actually supposed to be Eddie who would come out of the closet (first).

The end of season 7 gave us an Eddie who told Kim that he is broken and he can't be fixed. Chris left and now he's all alone. No more Chris, Marisol or any other distractions. He is on his own now. Lots of time to reflect upon his life and relationships. His arc will be built around his emotional journey and his personal growth. And we all know who will be by his side for all of it. It's a given at this point.

Then we have Ryan doing these interviews, saying things like:

“The character has been established now, we kind of know what to expect with the vibe. Now it’s just kind of falling back in old rhythm. The only thing different now is where the character’s head is at and where he is going.”

Next to that we have new looks for both Ryan and Oliver. A new beginning perhaps? That moustache has some clear queer symbolism attached to it as well. Something we cannot ignore, because the show knows that its fans aren't stupid and they also know that they have a solid queer fanbase.

And yes, Ryan and Oliver seem happy and relaxed on set these days, while especially Oliver didn't seem all that happy at the end of season 7. In fact, Oliver has completely ignored the Tommy aspect of his new 'canon' relationship. He speaks more about Buck's bi journey and ignores the Tommy factor as much as possible.

So Nonny, if you read all of the above information (and I'm sure I forgot a bunch of stuff) how can you not become more hopeful and a lot more positive that there is a high chance of Buddie happening in season 8?

I'm all for protecting yourself from possible disappointment, but when you are constantly wrapping yourself into a protective cocoon so you don't get hurt in the process, you might just miss the best (and most fun) part of being a shipper: the experience of your slow-burn ship finally becoming canon.

I admit it! I too strongly believe Buddie might just happen in season 8. I'm almost completely sure.

And yes, if Buddie doesn't happen, there will be disappointment and there will be people who choose to express that disappointment through anger. But honestly?

They would kinda have a point.

Because no, it wouldn't be the fans' own fault for getting their hopes up if Buddie doesn't happen. During previous seasons I would have said 'yes', but not now. Not anymore. Now I would definitely say that they are right. It's the show itself that has gotten our hopes up by the consistent Buddie promo, the many Buddie scenes, the whole Eddie being in every part of the BT arc thing, the bts and all the other things they've thrown at us. They know exactly what they are doing. They are hyping Buddie up to the max.

I don't actually believe there will be disappointment though. This is truly the first season where I have been pretty confident that Buddie is in the works. I've never had that feeling before and I've been here forever.

Now that being said, complete certainty doesn't exist for a shipper. if, for some reason, Buddie doesn't happen? There will be disappointment (for me as well) and anger (for me not so much), but in the end that emotion will fade and Buddie will become just another great fandom experience with a bad ending. We've all been there before. It happens.

That is just the nature of being in fandom: 'You win some, you lose some.'

However... this time? With Buddie?

I really think we're about to win big. Sorry Nonny!

¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Nick Amaro- No Place Left For You To Be Shy 

This is a continuation of A Crowded Bar Question.

This is NSFW!!!  

I’m just going to be honest guys, I'm not sure about this one. I loved the vibe that I put into the previous part. I was so excited about this sex scene, and I had a whole plan for it. I just don’t know if I pulled it or Nick’s character off. And I can’t tell if it’s bad or just not what I wanted it to be... But I spent a few hours writing it so I'm posting it anyway.  

It had been almost two months since the incident in the bar. The mark on your neck had faded away but your memory of the night and Nick Amaro’s touch hadn’t. You had thought about going to him and begging him to make good on his promise. You wanted to experience more of the fire that he had ignited in you. A fire you hadn’t ever felt with your ex. But Nick was right about more than just you being too drunk to consent to sex that night. You were vulnerable after your breakup. You needed some time to process everything and start to heal before you could jump into another man’s bed.  

You have seen Nick several times since that night. You were surprised to find that he acted as if nothing had happened that night at the bar the first time you saw him again at a crime scene. Not that he ignored you either. He was his normal charming self. He had made small talk with you and checked in on how you were doing. It made you question if what you thought had happened that night really had. It was reaffirmed that it did indeed happen when just as you were packing up to leave. Your standard issue crime scene jumper had unzipped and pulled your shirt down leaving the mark on display. Nick’s warm hands had pulled the shirt back into place. He had made full eye contact before giving you a wink and a mischievous smile before leaving to return to his work. 

Things had only been a little different, just enough for you to notice. You didn’t see Nick at every crime scene, you covered any of the various departments in Manhattan. However, when you did, he was just a little flirtier, his charm turned up a notch or two higher than normal. He also always seemed to find a reason to touch you. Nothing that could be considered inappropriate, but a hand on your shoulder or him brushing by just a little too closely. Every time he did it sent fire through your entire body, a shiver up your spine. It was clear that he was being respectful and waiting for you to make up your mind while showing you that he was still willing to fulfill his promise. You also had no doubt that if you told him to stop or even gave him a hint of being uncomfortable, he would stop immediately and without question. 

The urge overtook you like most things did in your life, hitting you all at once and begging you to jump. Nick had offered sex that night at the bar and you wanted it. You didn’t know how it had happened but all at once his soft touches and flirty words sunk into your stomach and exploded into lust. You were doing your job when it happened. He had brushed by you just enough that you felt the heat of his body tease you along with the scent of his aftershave. Something snaps in you and before you can rethink your jump. 

You finish bagging a bloodstained shirt when you call him over, “Detective,” He turns away from the other crewmembers and saunters over to you. It’s nothing out of the ordinary and nobody pays any attention, busy in their late-night work. He stops just a little too close and you turn into him making the amount of space smaller. You hold up the bag in false pretenses and he takes it. You drop your voice when you ask, “You want to make good on your offer?” It’s bold and you think he might ask you to be more direct and tell him exactly what you mean by that.  

He doesn’t. 

It is like a switch being flipped back on. The heat between you two begins to smolder. When you look up from the bag you handed him and meet his eyes there is an intensity that washes over you. You are in the CSU standard blue jumpsuit, but you never felt more exposed. It was like he could see right through it. The passion in his dark brown eyes, there was no mistaking that he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Was just waiting on you, Carino.” His words are a husky purr. When he senses someone coming towards you guys, he hands the evidence bag back to you. The roughness of the callous on his hands scratches against your gloves as his touch lingers with promise. 

It hadn’t taken long for you to receive a text from an unknown number asking about the next night. You hadn’t questioned how he had gotten your number, just saved him to your contacts under the name Amaro. You guys agreed that your place would be the better choice because his five-year-old daughter Zara was living full-time with him. You could understand him not wanting to bring you into his child’s home even with her being away for the night with her grandmother. It was just better that way, simpler. 

You knew it would be awkward. You had never set up a one-night stand before. Not to mention you were younger than Nick. Not by a lot but enough to make you feel like he was the more experienced. Anxiety and lust fought inside your stomach as you waited for Nick to show up. You drank some wine to just take the edge off. It was a sharp fruity flavor that you could barely taste the alcohol. You only had glass but it helped ease the nerves. 

It was a little awkward when Nick first arrived. There was no immediate ripping of clothes off like hookups on TV. Nick was a detective, and his assessing eyes took over your small but mostly tidy apartment as soon as he walked in the door. You were still starting out in a small one-bedroom apartment. The look of the place was bohemian with pops of color and pattern. Your ex who wanted everything to look like it had just come out of a magazine had hated it. It was too girly and not tasteful enough. You had grown up in a lower-middle-class family in a small town. Your home wasn’t supposed to be about first impressions but self-expression and comfort. Nick didn’t seem to mind at all and after his obligatory checking of the room, his attention was returned to you. 

The heat of his body was becoming familiar to you as he stepped into your space. His thumb brushed across your cheek as he tilted your head and his lip caught yours. Just like that the switch had been turned back on. Lust bloomed through your body along with an intoxicating heat. You pushed onto your toes to get closer, your arm hesitantly coming up to his neck. You moaned as his tongue ran over your bottom lip. You allowed the kiss to deepen but Nick pulled back tasting the alcohol still lingering in your mouth. Your brows crinkled in confusion. “You’ve been drinking.”  

“It was only a glass of wine. I’m not drunk.” He pushes your hair out of your face, his perspective eyes studying yours. You stare back at him with no hesitation because you know he won’t find any deceit there. You're not drunk. He isn’t taking advantage of you. You want to have sex with him. It had been so long; your ex and you had stopped months before the breakup. 

“You know we don’t have to do this. That any time you can say no.” You smile at him. He works at SVU it made sense that he wanted confirmed consent. It was sweet, even if it was slightly unexpected. You easily oblige him. 

“I know but I want to.” You press your body fully into his feeling heat bloom through you as you rub up against him as you lean up for a kiss. “I want you to make good on your promise. Please.” It seems to be all the encouragement that he needs. His lips find yours again for a hot open mouth kiss. The kisses were sloppy and needy.  

Even with taking a few minutes to find a rhythm, it was clear that Nick was a great kisser. It seemed that charming women wasn’t the only thing that Nick’s tongue was good at. The awkwardness passed in a flash. The kisses continued as he backed you into your bedroom. He took his time undressing you, starting with your shirt and bra, kissing every inch of the newly exposed skin. He laid you on the bed as his lips traveled down your neck towards your now bare chest. His hands rub up your ribs causing you to shiver. One of his hands found your breast as his mouth latched on to your other nipple. You groaned and arched into him gripping his shoulders. His tongue circles your hardened nipple insistently and you hiss when he bites down just hard enough to leave an echo of pain that he soothes with his mouth. The pain mixes with your pleasure and you can feel the rush of arousal dampen your already wet panties. He switches to the other to give it the same attention. 

You tug at his crisp white dress shirt. While you were half naked Nick hadn’t lost any clothes yet aside from his suit jacket and shoes that he had taken off at the door. You had just managed to pull the shirt free of his pants and your fingers had finally found hot, tanned skin when he pulled back. His body heat was taken away as he stood leaving you cold and feeling exposed your arms crossed your chest unconsciously.  

Nick who was standing in front of you unbuttoning his shirt caught the movement and he tsked, “Oh hermosa, te sientes timida? (beautiful, are you feeling shy?) I promise you, by the end of the night you are going to feel like a Reina (queen).” There was surety in his tone as he undid the buttons on his cuffs before rolling them up his forearms and taking the shirt off. He leaned forward, putting his hands on either side of you caging you in. Your eyes were fixated on his newly exposed toned chest. He closed the distance and you arched into him when his naked chest brushed yours. You wrapped your arms around him caressing his back. He left an open-mouthed kiss on your neck before whispering in your ear. “I’m going to make you feel poderosa, caliente, y en control de tu sexualidad. (Powerful, hot, and in control of your sexuality) There will be no space left for you to feel shy.” 

His fingers brushed the waistband of your jeans. Your hips rocked up in response. He chuckled making quick work of your jeans leaving you in only a pair of soaked panties. He groaned as he cupped you rubbing you over the wet lace. “You’re already soaked. ¿Necesitabas desesperadamente esta atención? (Were you in desperate need of this attention?)” He presses one finger against your core and your fingertips curl into his skin as it easily slides in. He pumps it inside you a few times before adding a second. Your nails scratch at his back as you rock firmly against him. You curse as he pulls them out of you once again leaving you needy and squirming.  

“Nick,” It comes out breathless, and his face wears a cocky smirk. He brings the fingers that were just inside you to his greedy mouth and sucks them clean while he looks straight into your eyes. And fuck is it hot. Everything Nick does is somehow sensual. You’ve never been this wet this quickly before. Who knew Spanish words, only half of which you could understand could turn you on so much. Wasn’t French supposed to be the seductive language? Or would it not have the same effect if it didn’t come from Nick’s wicked mouth? 

You watch that hand leave his lips and go down to his belt. You can feel his heavy stare on you as you watch him shed his pants and then his underwear. Your lips part in an inaudible gasp. Nick Amaro in all his glory is a sight as hot as sin. He is also above average... and then some. His cock is thick and long and already fully hard. It was bigger than anyone that you had ever been with, and your ex by far. You watched with rapid attention as his hand wrapped around his dick pumping it a few times. “Carino,” Your eyes shoot up to Nick’s blush staining your cheeks. His fingers curl around the elastic of your panties and you lift your hips so he can pull them off. “Slide back on the bed and get on your knees for me.” 

You do as you're told, and he follows you onto the bed. He kisses you again, rougher more demanding. You moan into the kiss while his hands trail over your body, gripping and stroking your naked form. He broke the kiss by pulling at your hip forcing you to turn around, so your back was pressed tightly against his chest. He ground his cock against your ass and you both groaned.  

You were a little confused by the abrupt change in position when he was the one who had requested it. When you looked up though you realized why. Nick had positioned you directly in front of the mirror that you were now facing. His eyes were trained on yours in its reflection. You dropped your head letting your eyes fall closed. Nick’s mouth was hot and wet as he kissed up your neck to your ear. Two of his fingers found your soaking core again. You moaned when he started pumping them in and out of your wet heat, his fingers curling deliciously inside of you. The fire in your belly grew as you rutted into his fingers. His other hand slid up your body making its way to your throat. The pressure was gentle, barely there, raising your chin up. Your eyes open and you find his in the mirror again.    

His hot breath made you shudder as he whispered into your ear, “I’m going to show you how a man should make you feel. I’m going to give you everything you want, and more.” You groan his name in response. His tongue traces the shell of your ear, “The only thing I want you to do for me is watch. I want you to watch me take you there. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”  

You aren’t sure if you can, but Nick’s fingers are still working you and his thumb has found your clit. The rubbing is madding and pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm you can feel it clenching your stomach. Your eyes go down the mirror and watch as his fingers fuck into your cunt. His other hand is sliding back around you as he plays with a nipple. Your orgasm hits you less than a minute later. You force your head back onto his shoulder your hips bucking into his fingers sloppily as he works you through your pleasure. 

When you come back to yourself you notice that Nick’s rocking against your ass more firmly now. His precum leaked onto your skin. His fingers have stopped, and he slowly removes them from your core. When nothing else follows you open your eyes and look back into the mirror to find Nick’s brown eyes. “That’s a good girl.” He continues to caress your body running his hands all over your exposed flesh as he nips and sucks at your neck, shoulders, and upper back. You find that after the release of an orgasm, you don’t feel as self-conscious. And watching the mirror, as you were asked, wasn’t hard when you were focused on Nick instead of yourself.  

You watch as he reaches for the condom that he had set on the nightstand and pulls just far enough away from you to slip it on. When the head of his cock finds your entrance, you know it’s going to be a stretch. Still, high on your pleasure, you can't find it in yourself to worry. Instead, you are rocking with him coating him with your arousal. When he pushes in there is a generous slide from your wetness but it’s still a stretch. You force yourself not to close your eyes at the sensation because seeing his face in the mirror when his slow movement finally has him bottomed out in you is magical.  

He gives you a moment to adjust to his size but soon you're wiggling against him because you need him to move. He starts off slow with a steady rhythm, both of you getting used to each other. Your eyes are glued to the mirror watching his arms wrap around you. His hands caress your skin, playing with your breast, and rolling your nipples. Watching him take pleasure in your body is erotic. He is playing with your clit, and you can feel another orgasm building quickly. His hand twists in your hair turning you to face him. He doesn’t kiss you, not really, your lips are barely brushing as you share air. Your orgasm washes over you and his lips crash onto yours stealing your cry of pleasure. Your walls squeeze him tightly and he picks up his pace.  

You’re spent and fall forward, Nick lets you down to your elbows slowly. You are on all fours now as you try to catch your breath and regain your senses. He presses down on your upper back making you arch your ass up higher. You swear because the change in angle lets him hit deeper sending a rush of wetness through your core. The extra slide allows Nick to thrust deeper inside of you. His tip finds a sensitive spot that leaves your thighs shaking and your walls flutter against him. He curses in Spanish as his thrusts get sloppy and his orgasm slams through him. He continues to rock against you as he empties himself into the condom.  

He falls forward, his upper half pressing you down. You can feel each of his harsh breaths as his chest heaves with his excursion. His forehead is pressed against your sweaty back. He stays like that for only a minute as his breathing evens out. He lifts his head and runs his hand down your spine. You hiss as he pulls out of you leaving you feeling empty. He gets up to take care of the condom.  

You roll over onto your back your arms resting over your head spread out like a starfish. Your body is tingling from your head to the tips of your fingers and toes with leftover sensation and your mind has been scrambled. You haven’t felt this warm, sated, and absolutely exhausted in years.

You don’t hear Nick come back but you feel the mattress dip when he sits down. When you open your eyes to look you see he has pulled his boxers back on and is holding a glass of wine from the bottle you had opened earlier and a beer from the fridge. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

You shake your head because at this moment he could rob you blind and you probably just lay there and let him with a satisfied smile on your face. “Thank you,” You sit up and take the glass from him.

You take a sip, and it tastes even better now. You would swear at this moment that good sex makes everything better. Nick leans back into the pillows as he rests his back against the headboard. He holds out his arm up in an offering. You only hesitate for a minute as you climb over to cuddle up with him on top of the covers. He runs his hand along your back, a smug satisfied smile on his face as he takes a long pull of his beer. He looks proud of himself. You don’t think much of it after all he had just got off. Later after he leaves and you are just falling asleep do you understand. 

You echo his words half asleep into the dark empty room. “No place left for you to be shy.”  

Alright, guys so what does the Jury think?  

I also want to say the amount of love I have been getting on my stories is amazing! I thought that the SUV fandom had died out and that's why I started writing my own but I’m so glad to see it’s not. I am running out of stories to read though so if you have any recs, please send them to me!!! 

[creptolli]

Train Ride - Gaz x GN!Reader

Word Count: 986

CW: None, it’s pretty chill. Some strangers to friends to eventual lovers because there isn’t enough of that casual stuff :3

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so I apologise for any silly spelling errors! This is actually the story for my OC that I have been putting off writing for - so I wrote it as an x reader sorta thing.

Also I was listening to Laufey half the time of writing this, it’s very much those vibes.

“Shit, shit, shit…” you rambled as you rushed onto the train, yells directed at you as the doors quickly closed behind you. The laptop open in your hands practically screaming at you to charge it, but you ignore it. It’s got a good… 5, 10 minutes left? It’ll be fine.

Finally peering away from the screen to observe the area around you, you spot an open seat. The train wasn’t incredibly busy considering it was past rush hour, but it was busy enough that there were no completely available seats. Which just made you realise how late you really are.

You sit down opposite from a pretty big dude, dark skin, short hair and beautiful brown eyes. He was staring straight down at his phone, headphones sitting in his ears which lead you to look away, not wanting to stare. You sat off half the seat, not trying to seem invasive of the guys space, not that it looked like he even acknowledged your presence.

After a heavy sigh, you look back at your half empty document.

‘METAPHYSICS - What is reality?’ Labelled at the top of your page, daunting over the smaller text plowed across the bright white background. Your Philosophy assessment was due, today. Well, technically it was due... “23 minutes ago… shit.” You mumbled, a little louder than intended.

The sudden speech seemed to have caught the man parallel to you’s attention. He shifted, looking up from his screen to you, scanning from the panic in your eyes to the small bag laying at your feet.

Taking out one of his earphones, he called out to you.

“Hey, you alright?” He partially whispered to you, his English accent flowing with his voice.

“Hm? Oh- sorry, did I bother you?” You stumble out after realising he was addressing you. You couldn’t help but analyse the man’s face, it looked like it was sculpted by the Greek gods. As if Hephaestus himself carved it out.

He let out a small chuckle, “no, no.” He assured.

“You just look a little..” he searched for the right phrasing, not wanting to offend you.

“..All over the place.” He finished, a warm smile taking pity on you.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, if it was obvious enough for a complete stranger to see it, it was probably true.

Burying your head on the keyboard sitting in your lap, you frantically apologised in a hushed tone.

“I.. I have a late assignment and my professor’s gonna kill me.” You said in a strained, slightly overdramatic voice. You didn’t know why you were rambling about this to a complete stranger, but it was a lot more relieving than embarrassing, like you thought it would be.

Maybe this is a sign that a therapist is a good option… no, too expensive.

“Uni?” The man questioned, putting his phone in his pocket as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his arms dangling forward. He seemed pretty invested in where your day was heading so far.

“Yeah, 4th year. I took a gap year though, thank goodness.” You clarified, already calming down from talking to him. You felt comfortable, which even you could tell was odd.

He let out a small chuckle, enjoying the conversation. He seemed entertained by your stress now that he could tell it wasn’t anything genuinely concerning.

The two of you kept talking, but your attention was partially stuck on thinking about what to write, what to tell your professor, and when the fuck this train would get to your station.

“..you enjoy university?” He asked, snapping you back to the present.

“Yeah, I mean it’s alright. Not that bad, just a little.. stressful at times.” You couldn’t help but stare at him a few seconds, a small confused expression plastered on your face.

“Are you not at uni too? I mean, you can’t be older than me.” You said with a confused chuckle, surely by the looks of him you were right.

He quickly let out a short, somewhat hearty laugh, his neck going limp as it fell downwards.

“Ahh.. no, I’m in the military instead. Sometimes I do wish I went though, could’ve been fun.” He said as he began to lean back, a soft smile and warm eyes staring straight into you. It was somehow both comforting and haunting, as if he’s perfected the act.

The silence that followed was far from a void, as if the stare you two held was enough to keep the warm atmosphere.

“ARRIVING AT BERKLY STATION”

You were so focused on the dude in front of you, you barely heard the train automated message over the speaker. Alarming you that you have finally arrived at your stop, ‘oh no.. oh shitt..’ your heart dropped.

Instantly recognising the familiar panic in your eyes, the man took a sigh.

You grabbed your little bag and looked to your laptop-

Dead.

“Oh shittt…” you audibly trailed, taking a deep breath, you put it back in the bag and threw it over your shoulder, a swarm of stress piling up.

Distracted, you were about to get off the train and prepare for your professor, when you pause.

“Oh! Right… what’s your name? Sorry, I need to go but it was lovely meeting you.” You said to him in one breath, your voice shaky from the nerves of facing your professor.

“Kyle.” He said, looking as if he was contemplating something. You were familiar with the look, it was almost as if most of your class constantly presented it.

‘Kyle.’ You made a mental note of that, it was devastatingly unlikely that you would ever see him again, but it was nice to put a name to a face.

"Well, thank you, Kyle." You let out with a small smile. "You made this morning a lot less..." You looked for the fitting word.

"Shit?" He finished your sentence.

"Yeah, shit."

Post writing notes: It took about 2 weeks to get this out and I don't know why. Probably the huge lack of inspiration as well as a lot of work outside of writing, but who knows. I was gonna continue this and make it longer BUTTTT I decided to just make this the little leak into the actual story coming out on my Ao3 which is an OC with a name and face (..that I have already drawn). I wanted to cut it off because the way I was going was just so stiff :/ but anywho! ty for reading c:

ALSO! I changed my Ao3 !! (like... I moved. I have a fresh account for reasons that would make sense if I elaborated)

https://archiveofourown.org/users/devolin/profile

[kaynanarie]

JourneyTober! Day 13 - Pagoda

            Everything was muddled and bitterly cold. Even after kicking down the door of his cell, Monkey could only make it a few stumbling steps before a cacophony of voices bellowed around the pagoda. Red haze filled his vision while a deafening ringing in his ears brought him to his knees. Agonizing minutes passed before the chanting fell silent, leaving Monkey shaky and disoriented.

            The last thing he remember was plunging into the frozen lake after defeating the dragon. He had made it to shore but was ambushed by the macaque chief before everything went dark. Waking up inside the tower, half frozen and dazed, did little to piece together his situation.

            Unshrinking his hidden staff, Monkey used it to heave himself off the ground. He needed a way out. He needed to find Jen and make sure she was safe. But first, he needed a plan.

            Outside his cell, the jagged walkway plummeted into a bottomless chasm. Rising from the pit all the way to the top of the pagoda was a massive monolith, carved with statues and slowly spinning in place.

            Cells lined the outer walls; some empty, some only housing the remains of deceased prisoners. The yaoguai still alive paced behind iron bars, watching Monkey pass with a sinister interest. There were guards, tall with treelike heads hung with glowing lanterns, patrolling along the path while other lesser demons kept watch.

            Monkey kept to the shadows, sneaking past guards and prisoners alike. He was nearing the next level of the tower when he heard quick footsteps echoing from the passageway. Backing behind a pillar, Monkey readied his staff and watched the figure approach.

            An oversized cloak obscured their features but they were short, much smaller than any yaoguai he had encountered so far. They also lacked the demonic aura of anything dangerous. Their covered head glanced left then right before hurrying out of the doorway. As they passed, Monkey caught a peek at the face hidden beneath the hood.

            A human. His human. Jen.

            He was already moving by the time his mind had recovered from the shock. One hand snagged her cloak while the other reached to stifle her shout, tugging her back to the safety of the shadows. Jen thrashed in his hold, knocking his hand away from her face and spinning to face him. The fury in her eyes shift to surprise then delight as she threw her arms around him.

            “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

            After the ice of the lake and the frigid prison, her hug brought a warmth Monkey didn’t even know he craved. Rapid fire emotions ached in his chest; panic, anger, fear, but finally settled on relief as he returned her embrace.

            “How?” he managed to choke out, hands still clinging when she stepped back to look at him.

            “I saw when you got captured and followed you here,” she answered, ignoring his responding frown. “I stole a cloak, snuck in, and I’ve been looking for you ever since.”

            “Too reckless,” Monkey scolded. “It’s dangerous, you could have been hurt.”

            “Well, I found you and I’m not sorry,” Jen said, crossing her arms. “Besides, getting in was easy. Getting out is going to be the hard part.”

            “Not out. Up.” Monkey nodded to the top of the pagoda.

            “You’ve got to be kidding,” Jen muttered, eyeing the looming tower. “And how are we supposed to get up there? I haven’t exactly found any stairs.”

            This time, he pointed to the giant wooden beams cross-crossing over the pit, climbing to the upper levels one ledge at a time. Jen paled, glancing down at the empty darkness below.

            “Nope. No way. That’s dangerous and reckless.”

            “We’ll be fine,” Monkey chuckled. He took one of her hands in his, leading them towards the first bridge. “Just stay close and don’t look down.”

            Jen’s face went from white to burning red, her eyes suddenly finding the scuffs of her boots fascination. When she spoke, her words sounded small and nervous. “Just don’t let me fall, okay?”

            The firm grip on her hand gave a reassuring squeeze that settled her nerves.

            “Never.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------(This one had a completely different ending than I originally planned. Set during Chapter 3 of Black Myth Wukong. I'm still trying to catch up on these, maybe someday. Thanks to everyone still reading.)

[livindeadgirlgrav]

Taken part 2

Pairing: The Grabber x fem reader!

Warning: Kidnapping, violence, possible dubcon, manipulation, bad language, toxic, NSFW, abuse, Stockholm syndrome!

A/n: Please read part 1 first! It’s linked below! I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the delay I’ve been super busy with work 🥲

Part 1

Ps. I don’t condone anything this character does he’s a bad person like all the other slashers!

This story has alternating povs!!

The Grabbers pov

She was never part of the plan, never. She got in my way that night, almost got me caught. It was a dirty job, I don’t like dirty unpredictable jobs. But I had no choice. The night she ran into me I was out looking for one of those stupid boys. “Please help me! Please. A man is trying to hurt me! He’ll kill me if he catches me!” What was I supposed to do? Leave her there? Definitely not she saw my van, Samson, and me but she didn't look smart enough to remember me. So I made note of her small figure, she was smaller then one of the boys I took, I knew she would be easy to handle. “Okay, okay I’ll help you.. here jump in here.” I told her as I opened the van door letting her get in, shutting the door behind her. Not even a couple minutes later whoever was chasing her was questioning me. I wanted to snap his neck and hers as well for getting me in this situation. “Nope, haven’t seen any girl. I've been walking Samson here.” The man nodded and thanked me leaving without question. I growled opening the door to the van once the man was out of sight. “Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!” She said jumping out the van. I grinned knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

Once I got her in the basement I resented her. She was in my way. She better be glad I was able to find the boy that escaped. She would have been dead that night if I didn't find him. But as time passed I noticed she was making me soft, and I hated her for it. I was already thinking of ways to get rid of her. It was all too complicated, at first I treated her like one of the boys but I couldn't play the game with her. It didn't sit right with me that was my special game and it wasn't for her.

That night she kissed my mask I wanted to take her right then and there, but I also wanted to choke her, see the life fade from her. Why was she acting like this? What did she want from me? After that I stayed away from her. She was conflicting me, tormenting my mind. From the time I woke to the time I went to sleep I thought about her non-stop. I would feed her every now and again, but I didn't talk to her. I would watch her sleep a lot. It was the only time I truly understood her.

Al was very distance since the kiss. I would beg him to stay with me when he would bring me food but he never did. I was mad at him for many things, leaving me alone and during my free time I found evidence he was lying about kidnapping those kids. But crazy enough I craved his attention more than anything. Why couldn't he see that? He brought me here! I never asked for any of this! Sitting on the bed starring at the door, I shook my leg waiting for him. Having already been crying my eyes were all puffy. I feel like all I ever do now is cry. Once the door opened I stood and walked towards him. "Why won't you pay me attention? I've been begging you! What did I do?" I yelled, he looked down at me with his emotionless stupid mask on. Walking in he closed the door. "Huh!? I never asked to be brought here! I asked for help not to be kidnapped and ignored!" He just stood there tray in hand. I started to pace getting anxious. Tears starting to form but I was unable to cry, I was starting to doubt if I had any tears left. "I don't want that!" I slapped the tray out of his hands but before the tray even hit the floor he had me pinned to the dirty ground by my throat. I kicked and grabbed his arms. "Al!" I coughed and cried. His hands tight around my throat. He didn't say a word just progressively tightened his grip, sitting on my legs so they wouldn't be able to kick him even though I tried. "Albert! You're...hurting me!" I was able to cough out. And like that he let go and got off me. He looked at me and for the first time I saw emotion in his dead eyes. I grabbed my throat and cried. "I-I'm sorry!" I cried out before curling into a ball. He darted for the door slamming it shut. All I could do was cry so I did till I passed out. About an hour later I felt two arms wrapped around me. "Al?" I questioned. "Be quiet." I nodded, I looked around I was now on the bed with a blanket draped over my legs. Albert had his arms wrapped around me and his head was pushed into my back. I tensed up scared, not knowing what he was going to do. “Are you okay?” Asking softly, Albert growled. “How many times do I have to tell you?” He sat up, putting his hand over your mouth and pushing your head into the mattress. “Now I’m giving you what you wanted, stop being stupid.” Nodding he let go and watched you sit up staring at him with tearful eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.” Looking at his emotionless face you looked down wiping the tears away from your eyes. Starring at you he removed his mouth to his mask. “Don’t cry. I know you are scared, be good and I won’t scare you anymore.” You looked at him looking at his mouth like you never seen one before. Watching it move as he spoke. “I’ll be good.” He studied your face before lifting his hand and wiping a tear away from your cheek. “You know I care about you, right?” Rubbing your cheek, you smiled. “You do?” He nodded. “Yeah I do, that’s why I took you..” “Because you care about me.” You finished watching his mouth curve into a smile which made you smile as well. “That’s right.”

I didn’t care about her, I wanted her gone just didn’t know how yet a knife would work, or poison. I’ve never poisoned someone before. After she went to sleep I went back upstairs to think. Starring at the ceiling of my room I soon went to sleep. “Dove? I got you something.” She smiled at me, excited to see me. “What is it?” She asked practically jumping with excitement. “Well I thought you deserved something special so I made this for you.” I said crouching down beside her mattress and placing a small piece of cake down beside her on a small plate. She smiled and hugged me tightly. “Thank you!” I hugged her back then ushered her to eat. Which she did. Her smile soon faded into a frown. “Al?” Smiling I watched her face contort. She coughed and tried her best to throw up sticking her fingers down her throat. I smirked as I stepped back. She began to cry and cough up blood as she grabbed after her throat. “Al! It burns..” she coughed getting blood on the mattress and floor. “I-I thought you loved me?” She whimpered I laughed as I took my knife and shoved it into her stomach twisting it slightly. “A-Albert.” I gasped waking up sweating ‘It was all a dream’ I said to myself trying to calm down I quickly got up and threw on the head piece of the mask and ran to the basement. Opening the door I was relieved when I saw her sleeping peacefully. I pulled the door to and got in my spot next to wall, sitting down just to watch her sleep. Did I care about her?

Fluttering your eyes you noticed the dark figure by the wall. You shifted and sat up, rubbing your eyes in the process to get use to the darkness. “Al?” You called but no response so you quietly crawled over seeing he was asleep. Sitting back on your legs you smiled to yourself for seeing him like this brought you comfort. You gently pushed his hair back from his masked face. That was when two thoughts came to mind 1. Remove the mask and truly face your abductor or 2. Leave. Looking at the door you noticed it was open. “I’ll just quietly leave” you thought to yourself but where would you go? And what would he do? Would he track you down or would he go back to his killing spree. You noted he couldn’t be to terribly rich to afford two houses to kidnap people you were occupying his only hideout his soundproof hideout.

Tears formed in your eyes you knew who he was without his face or name you knew from the moment you arrived. You stood up looking around eyes truly opened. Walking to the corner of the room opposite of Albert you sat down knees to your chest and cried. It was like your brain was being pulled from every angle. You had feelings for him you craved his attention but you knew he was a killer and would kill you. Crying hard Albert shifted picking his head up and looking at the mattress then quickly to the corner you were crying in. “Y/n?” He called. “Why did you bring me here?” You asked looking up at him it was dark and it was hard for him to see you but he knew your face had to be swollen from crying. “Because I wanted to hel-“ you cut him off “tell me the truth!” You yelled voice cracking. It pissed him off of course but he didn’t say anything he let you yell. You stood up and walked to him remaining far enough so you could run if needed. “You killed those kids, you killed them in here and now you’re going to kill me because I know.” He stared blankly at you. “I told you I didn’t kill them..” he said in a soft tone which confused you. “Albert tell me.” “Don’t call me that-“ cutting him off again “why does it matter! You’re gonna kill me anyway!” With that Albert walked closer to you making you back up. “I was going to kill you! You wasted my time trying to find that stupid!” Albert caught himself growling “I should have killed you I don’t want you here! You are an inconvenience to me. And I have the perfect way of getting rid of you.” He said his tone darker then ever. You watched his every move tears falling down his words hurt you deeply especially since you were falling for him. Which you hated yourself for.

Albert watched you then suddenly charged after you, you ran to towards the door which he blocked so you ran down the small hall forgetting it led to a dead end. You tripped over a little hole in the floor and Albert was quick to grab your leg and pull you towards him but you kicked his hand with your free foot and got up running to grab the lid of the tank on the back of the toilet. Albert chuckled at your poor excuse to defend yourself but when he charged at you again you hit his chest with the lid causing it to break and him to stumble backwards leading you to quickly and I mean quickly run pass him and up the stairs. You stopped in your tracks when you saw a man in what looked to be the kitchen. Confused you looked at the man. “Oh hello, I didn’t know my brother had visitors this late. Are you okay?” You were stunned. “I-I’m sorry Al didn’t tell me he had a roommate.” You put on a fake smile and facade. Hearing Albert’s heavy steps running up the stairs over the random man’s voice you knew you were caught so you did what you thought best “ I’m sorry if we woke you!” You said raising your voice over the man’s just as Albert entered the room. “I wanted to try something new.” You chuckled and smiled out of breath from running. “Ohh okay I’m sorry to cockblock” Max joked. “Cool mask!.” You looked up at Albert seeing his anger radiating off him and the pure shock in his eyes. “Sorry he’s embarrassed.” You faked a smile and Max laughed “Well I’ll just be in the living room have fun with your ‘trying something new’” he smiled brightly flashing the grit of powder on his teeth before turning and walking back into the living room.

You looked up at Albert with a mean look, Al growled and quickly grabbed your arm. “Max! Could you run to the store for a minute or two.” Albert shouted starring at you watching your eyes grow. Max chuckled. “I can definitely do that it’ll be a little strange for me to hear that.” Albert kept starring at you and you kept starring right back hearing Max grab keys and then shut the door. Once the door shut Albert grabbed you by your hair causing you to yell out before he pulled you into the bathroom throwing you down into the tub grabbing after your legs and arms as you tried to kick him. Somehow Albert was able to turn the water on and the shower head, cold water shot out coming down on you like needles. You cussed at the coldness but continued to try to push and kick Albert off of you. With the tub filling fast with cold water, you were drenched. After a few minutes of Albert trying to push your head under the water and you fighting against it, Albert finally got a grip on your wrist and pulled you out the tub. But he quickly turned you around and shoved your head in the water trying to drown you with both hands on your head you placed your hands on the side of the tub and pushed trying to get up. Albert pulled you up causing you to gasp for air but thinking ahead you quickly flung your hands up to hit him causing his mask to fall off into the water. Screaming Albert covered his face and backed away from you which allowed you to push yourself back hitting the floor in the process. Gasping you pushed your hair out of your face and just started at him watching him freak out in the floor beside the toilet. Catching your breath you stood up dripping water everywhere and walked to the tub unplugging it, throwing the plug on the ground before reaching down to grab his mask. “A-Albert” you called looking at him his knees to his chest and face buried into his hands. “Here” you reached the mask down for him to grab the strap touching his hand making him grab it from you.

Exhausted you walked out the bathroom shivering and nearly fell over catching yourself on the counter. Albert put his mask back on and quickly got up walking over to you. You bent down to sit on the floor and Albert watched you. It was dead silent you could only hear the sound of the water hitting the floor of the shower and the clock tick. “I-I think you’re safe. Your buddy doesn’t know.” You stuttered out trying to catch your breath still. Albert looked at you then at the counter where he had a block of knifes. You looked up at him as you hugged yourself trying to get warm. “Get up” Albert said as he pushed you with his foot. “Please let me sit here for a few minutes then you can kill me. I won’t fight you’ll just over power me again.” You said letting your head fall back on the wall behind you as you gave up causing Albert to smirk but it quickly faded as he saw how pale you were, seeing a blue tint to your rosy lips. He felt bad even with the mask on he knew what he was doing wasn’t right. Albert huffed and sat at the little table taking his mask off rubbing his eyes. You giving up wasn’t an option he saw you doing so now it made him second guess himself.

“I liked you that's why I was so angry with you. Because I couldn’t believe that I would like someone like you but I do. Maybe I’m crazy or just like toxic men.” You giggled which turned into a cough. Albert looked at you without his mask on. He stood up and walked to you grabbing your arm and pulling you up. You just let him, standing there you shivered. Grabbing your hand Albert pulled you to his room. “Albert please..” you looked up at him scared “I’m not going to hurt you..” Looking into his blue eyes you nodded. Then proceeded to look at his unmasked face. “You’re quite beautiful.”

Albert didn’t say anything he just proceeded to unbutton your pants and pull them down. Stepping out of them you watched him tensing up as he went for your shirt pulling it over your head. Covering your chest you watched him walk to his closet and pulled out a brown button up shirt which he handed you. Grabbing it you put the shirt up and started to button it but your fingers were shaking too much so Albert buttoned it for you as you proceeded to breakdown again. Crying hard Al pulled you to him hugging you tightly. “Please don’t.” Sobbing you pleaded. He hushed you and guided you to the bed to lay down which you did continuing to sob all Albert could do was hold you and let you cry.

I sighed as she finally fell asleep. Her face was red and tear stained I never felt this bad before but I can’t deny it anymore I do care about her even though she can be a bitch it’s none of her business to know about what I do or did but maybe we could make this work just maybe.

Thank you for reading! This part 2 was long overdue lol but I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[collisvng]

CHAPTER 2 | THE MEANING OF PAS DE DEUX

THE END ZONE 🏈🩰✨

Pairing 🤎 Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader︎

Genre 🤎 SMAU, University/College AU, Ballett/Football AU, Fluff, Angst, Crack—all of that good shit lol︎

Synopsis 🤎 By recommendation of his coach, Changbin decides to take a ballet class in order to improve his agility and coordination on the field. It seems like a harmless and fun activity at first. But what happens when his ballet partner starts to make him choose between the two?

Warnings 🤎 Slight swearing, brief mention of food, Felix being annoying (but we love him tho lol)

Taglist 🤎 Open!︎ ✨

Word Count 🤎 2,173 + 10 sm screenshots!

In Collaboration With 🤎 @channie-143

✨️MASTERLIST✨️

©collisvng (2023) — all rights reserved. reposts/modification of our work is not tolerated.

THE UNIVERSITY’S FOOTBALL FIELD WAS THE LAST PLACE YOU EVER EXPECTED TO FIND YOURSELF. 

After being given very specific instructions to go through a specific way that led you specifically to the perfect spot on the bleachers for you to be easily noticed—courtesy of Felix who totally isn’t the university’s mascot—you found yourself setting your bag next to you as you sat down to watch the boys do their thing.

It was strange being there. You never considered yourself a sports person and knew quite little about anything to do with the sort. The most experience you ever had with even just the topic of sports being brought up was the few times Seungmin would go on one of his little tangents about baseball. There were also the few times Felix would slip up about football, but it was never prominent enough for you to take notice of.

Legs crossed, phone in hand, you stayed in your spot hoping for someone to say something about your presence. After a while, a few guys on the field started to look your way. Most looked confused while others almost seemed as if they were trying to show off. You didn’t see Changbin though. Or at least you couldn’t make out which guy was him.

After Felix’s 5th wrap-around of the field (ignoring you while doing so, I might add) and noticing your phone battery was at a lower percentage than you expected, you almost decided to give up.

It wasn’t until you heard a slight nasally yell followed by a giggly chuckle that you finally spotted the man.

He ran across the field to promptly smack one of his teammates for messing around and teasing him about his height. He started yelling. Curly black hair fell into his eyes as he took his helmet off, continuing his scolding. His incessant bickering was abnormally adorable to you.

And the laugh that left his teammates’ mouth was lighthearted and cheerful… and almost strangely familiar. 

It was around this time you started to notice all eyes were on you except Changbin’s. You debated calling for him, but your actions swayed when you noticed one of his other teammates waving at you. He was somewhat taller, his hair was dark and short, and he had what you could only describe as the nose of a Greek god. The guy nodded in your direction as if to ask why you were there, to which you responded with a quick point in Changbin’s direction and exaggeratingly mouthing his name.

A quick, “Oh, okay!” was mouthed to you in response alongside him giving you a thumbs up.

The teammate walked over Changbin amidst his rant and tapped him on the shoulder. He seemed annoyed, probably assuming he was simply about to be told to quit fighting. It wasn’t until his teammate pointed to you standing up from your seat with a shy smile on your face did his expression suddenly change into the biggest grin you had ever seen. 

He jogged over in your direction with his helmet under his arm as you made your way down the bleachers. When you reached the bottom, you gripped the handrail barrier separating you from the field. One of your knees rested against one of the smaller beams of the railing as you leaned forward with anticipation. 

The moment a small ‘hi’ left his lips, the happiness embedded in your nervous system was hard to hide.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” He questioned, raising his brow. “I didn’t really take you as a sports-type.”

“That would be correct,” you nodded. “Which is why I am not here for sports…”

You quickly unlocked your phone and held it out to him, leaning into the railing a bit more for support.

“… I’m here for you.”

Changbin stood there dumbfounded. He just stared down at your screen as if the concept of giving a girl his number was the most foreign thing in the world to him. His grip on his helmet grew tighter as he let out the most tense laugh in the universe. It became obvious to you that this ordeal seemed completely different to you then it was to him.

“Oh my gosh, stop overreacting.” The roll of your eyes came out a little less playful then you had hoped. “It’s not like I’m asking you out or anything, okay? I’m just asking for your number because we agreed I would catch you up on stuff for class.”

He nervously nodded as he took your phone in hand.

“Right, yeah, I knew that…”

As he proceeded to put his number in your phone, you looked off into the distance to see the teammate he was yelling at previously staring at you as if you seemed familiar to him; akin to the way you looked back at him.

“That guy you were talking to looks familiar.”

“Oh, Jeongin?” Changbin handed you the phone back.

“Ah, that name sounds familiar…” You nodded. “I think he’s friends with my friend Seungmin.”

“We all kinda know Seungmin,” he shrugged in response. “Since he’s also in charge of the sports section for the school paper, we see him a lot.”

“Makes sense.”

After a bit of awkward small talk, the two of you concluded that you would reserve a room in the dance hall over the weekend. You’d go over the basics he needed to know before the next class, and if he had any questions that needed extensive explanation you promised you’d answer them.

He walked back to his teammates with a cheeky grin as they all began asking him questions about who you were and why you had given him your phone. It amused you to see the group of men all huddled up together like a bunch of high schoolers spilling rumors to each other.

Hearing them faintly ask who the pretty girl was…

It strangely gave you a boost of confidence.

As you grabbed your things and began to exit, you gave a quick wave to your roommate. He waved back for a brief moment, dropping his facade for what seemed like a mili-second before halting and turning to walk away.

“You can’t ignore me forever!” You yelled after him. “We all know you’re the mascot Felix!”

He held onto the mascot head for dear life as he began picking up his pace. Suddenly, he was sprinting.

“NO YOU DON’T! ”

The first class of the next week seemed to go well.

Changbin had picked up on things quite quickly, which impressed you.

He obviously wasn’t going to become a dance prodigy overnight, but he did good with the basic exercises and was fairly good at keeping you level while on pointe.

There was a lot less dropping with him then there was when Han was your partner. And in all honesty, that was all you could ever ask for. 

You found yourself laughing here and there whenever Changbin would mess up slightly, giving him encouraging words that he would get it right the second time. And thankfully, you’d be right each time. He seemed so determined.

He had even made the effort to get everything you told him he needed for class. When you saw him walk on the first day back from the weekend with a pair of black ballet flats in hand, you let out a sigh of relief. The man sat there on the floor in front of you, carefully putting them on and looking up at you waiting for some sort of praise. It almost made your heart skip a beat.

By the time the second class of the week had come around, there was a mutual acquaintanceship between you both. When he walked into class and met you at the barre, a mutual smile was shared.

“Mornin’ boss,” Changbin winked as he saluted you.

You let out a short groan in response which only made him laugh. His little maniacal giggle filled your ears and you stood in front of him with your head hung.

“You know you don’t have to be so formal with me,” you slowly rubbed your eyes with your middle and index fingers. “I’m your dance partner, not your boss. I’m here to help you, not boss you around.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “I kinda like it when you boss me around.”

The words came out with a sense of normality behind them. There were no flirtatious undertones, no coquettish teasing—just a statement with an accidental provocative undercurrent. 

The affirmation was enough to make you silently turn away. And when your gaze shifted, you could see Minho (who had been standing by) smirking at you.

“Not a word,” you mumbled low enough for only him to hear.

Minho’s smile faltered for a second before staring straight ahead once more.

When the instructor walked in, the vibe seemed very different than usual.

She was dressed more casually, which was strange, and her intimidating sense of self seemed non-existent for once—but not quite completely gone. You had never seen this side of her before and it left the whole class in astonishment.  The woman stood in front of you all, hands behind her back, with her eyes scanning the room.

The room was dead silent until she eventually spoke.

“What is the meaning of pas de deux?”

Her question sent the class into a silenced frenzy. Everyone’s eyes darted at each other in the room waiting for someone to answer.

Eventually, Han’s new dance partner raised her hand and spoke.

“It means a dance for two people. Or step of two.”

“That’s its literal definition, Regina. I’m asking for the meaning.”

The instructor went on to explain how pas de deux is about two bodies coming together to create one soul; two partners coming together to produce one palpable emotion. That emotion differed from performance piece to another, and to construct those emotions through nothing but movement took a sense of dexterity to convey.

There were 3 rules of pas de deux:

You needed to trust your partner.

Unity between your partner and yourself was detrimental.

And most important of all, communication was key.

“Without those things, what we do here is simply just dancing,” your instructor shrugged. “What creates the magic of pas de deux is the harmony of two bodies. And in order to have that harmony, you must get to know your partner. Which is what we are going to do today.”

She proceeded to say that class was actually canceled today, and instead she wanted you to use your class time to get to know your partners more. It made sense, given the recent switch of partners that took place in class a few days ago. You and Changbin had already started practicing together a bit outside of class and the two of you barely knew each other. Perhaps this was a sign.

“I expect you to know your partner by the next class. You don’t have to know every dying detail of their life, but you should know enough to give a brief description of them and some of their interests in front of your fellow classmates. You will be graded on this.”

Once you all were dismissed and everyone seemed to be making their way out of the class, Changbin looked at you with a sort of desperation in his eyes.

“Heyyyy… sooo…”

“What do you want?”

“‘Kay so,” he began, “I actually had some homework that’s due later. I was gonna try to do it during practice but since class is canceled…”

“You want to know if I’m okay with you doing it now?”

He nodded vigorously with the most pouty face you had ever seen. “Please? We can meet up on the weekend again or something to make up for it. I’ll even be the one to reserve the room this time if you want. Just…please…?”

Laughing a bit, you realized how different Changbin made you feel. Normally if it were anyone else, you would have made an effort to force them to stay. You were just getting to know each other, but it was still an assignment after all. You took stuff like that when it came to dance very seriously. But something about him made you feel like you could trust him.

And so you did.

“Yeah that's fine,” you smiled. “I have some stuff to catch up on as well so that works out.”

Changbin stood there, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘are you sure?’

You nodded, telling him to go.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hands then pretending to throw it at you as he bolted for his gym bag.

“I love you, oh my gosh. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The boys watched the whole ordeal as they began to gather around you, surprised you let him off so easily.

“We’ve lost her guys,” Hyunjin sighed. “She’s becoming soft.”

A swift kick to his shin shut him right up.

“There we go,” Han smirked. “She's back.”

taglist: @marcillfll @jiisungllvr  @chrizzlaptop @babrieeee @soupbinlily @pissmori @chlodavids @marnz1990 @worcesheshestershiresauce @hafrenstay @s00buwu @ismelllikechlorine247 @teenyfinds

[artemismoorea03]

Monkies Deserve Better References pt 1

This is a bit of a long one so to save people who follow me for my other series I'm going to put it behind a 'read more' line. Both for that reason and because I couldn't be bothered drawing clothes so the references are naked (not like anything graphic though, they're basically shaped like barbies, don't worry)!

The reference I used I found on pinterest but was made by Toresoza on Twitter for those who want a better high quality version with all the hand shapes will have to find it on Twitter, but for now have this low quality Pinterest one to start out.

Now! Onto the proper references! Keep in mind this is how the characters look from anything before Macaque's Not Alright! There might be some missing scars that the characters should have in canon that they don't have here (namely MK because it was 4 am and I forgot) so they might change slightly but for now here we go!

Let's start with Wukong! First with his glamours up and then with them down! (Peach included because I couldn't get the little shit's hand to work with me so I fed him).

The scar on his brow and cheek would very likely be canon as well as the one on his upper left arm and right elbow which would have all happened during the fight with Nezha.

Included on his face are also the headband scars, burns around his eyes which are red after the Demon Hospital fiasco. Also from the demon hospital fiasco are most of the dark patches on his body (realizing now I missed another burn spot on his inner right forearm that's older than the rest but that's fine). When he was tossed in the forget his fur was magically burned whever it was touching the table which is why he has lines on his tail, wrists and ankles (noticed another mistake on his tail but AGAIN IT WAS LATE LET ME LIVE /lh /j). I'll fix it later but I'm too tired to bother now.

The injuries on his chest and stomach are a mix of the Demon Hospital stuff and MK's Not Alright injuries while the white on his back, shoulders, sides and hips are all from LBD :3

Other details about MDB/MAA Wukong as well as all of the monkeys is that his fur and hair are slightly different shades that are barley noticeable (I'm even questioning if I did it for him but I'm going to hope I did x'D). Wukong is also covered in freckles which he doesn't bother glamouring due to how much energy it would take.

Wukong also shares a bit of a 'dad bod' with Canon Wukong (I'm still learning how to draw weight, so ignore that he looks pregnant he's just supposed to be a little squishy). He is also the tallest of the three monkeys I have done, standing at a super tall /s 5'6" (167 cm/66 in (according to Google)).

-----

Next is Macaque who until I actually did this I thought had the most scars. Nope. His scars are the biggest but he probably has the least amount of scars x'D

Macaque's canon injuries on his chest and eye are visible when he's not glamoured but not nearly as obvious as his newer scars.

On his back is a whip scar that he got from Havoc and Confusion - the timeline on this is messed up and will be edited sooner or later -but it happened when he was quite young and doesn't bother him nearly as much as some of the other scars.

The scar on his right thigh, palms of his hand, horizontally across his chest and through his stomach all came from the Seven-Star Sword.

The three scars across his chest are from Wukong's Not Alright when he was cut down by the giant cat monster. This is also when the edges of his fur started to grow in white when they grew back (he should have a couple of other white patches on his body from smaller injuries but they don't have set spots other than *maybe* in his inner elbows, but again, it's not set).

Then, the final and newest scars are on his hips which he gained during the most recent run in with Confusion.

The white on his fur and in his hair is his 'natural' color from before he was killed the first time (not when Wukong killed him) while the blue is from LBD. The blue will likely never turn fully white but might lighten over time to be a more gray color than blue, but that will take a long time and unless Macis willing to shave himself completely most of his fur will always remain black

Other details about Macaque are his six ears in his unglamoured form which are red, blue and teal based on the colors from the 2009 Monkey King series which also inspired a lot of Macaque's background and life story.

Macaque is the smallest of the three monkeys and stands at 5'3" (160 cm /63.6 In).

--------

Finally, there's MK and oh boy. I didn't realize how much of a break this kid needed after all of this but considering how his scars look I'm about to send him on vacation. A paid vacation with therapy included because holy shit.

After I finished making MK I realized I forgot to look for any canon scars that he would have, but considering most of them would be covered by fur I'm also not in a rush to go through and look through them.

His oldest scar is on his forehead mostly hidden by his hair which is the scar mentioned in the third chapter in the series. From there the scars get bigger and more dramatic the longer it goes on, so let's go through the list.

The scars on his right shoulder is from the snakes that infest the Earth Turtle! Also from his adventure on the Earth Turtle are his top surgery scars which he doesn't glamour (he spends too much time/energy glamouring everything else and he's proud of them, so why bother).

He has a matching wound to Macaque on his lower left stomach (which might be in the wrong spot but again i'm tired) came from Monkies Aren't Alright when Chang Liu stabs him with an immortal killing weapon to have access to what 'makes him tick'.

Then in MK's Not Alright he got attacked by another non-venomous snake that bit his left shin and left deep scarring there as well but oddly enough that was the only scar he gained from that one.

In Wukong's Not Alright he gained two scars, the one through his right shin and the wound to his left shoulder blade.

The rest of the scars - the one on his face, most of the ones on his cheek, chest, back, legs, and tail all came from Macaque's not alright with some other minor scars that I forgot about x'D. They are a mixture of whip wounds, slash wounds and burns all came from Havoc, Ginger and Confusion trying to control him.

Other details include slight discoloration on his fingers from the same torture he went through to get the majority of his scars. Part of his bangs are discolored to be white and he's covered in countless white freckles giving him a very 'starry' appearance to him. (which in a way makes his fur look like space with the scars being shooting stars and planets).

MK is the 'middle' monkey and stands at 5'5" (165cm/65in , only an inch shorter than Wukong.

-----

That's all that I have done right now but I'm hoping to make Loi, Red, Mei, and Nezha at some point as well as Tu, Yuanhou, Mihou, Changpu, Pengu and a super secret fifth option too ;3

That being said, if there are any characters you want me to try to make a reference for, just let me know. These were just some of the ones most requested by my discord and friends so I thought I'd do them first. Once I have the others done though, I'll post them.

[nessinborderland]

Broken Promises

Pairing: Banda Sunato x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Words: 2,9k

Summary: You never expected to find your ex-husband in the Borderlands, of all places. Especially not when he was supposed to be on death row.

Warnings ⚠️ Established Relationship, Mentions of Murder, Serial Killers, is Banda after all

Notes: This was requested by the lovely @ch-xr that loves fictional unhinged men as much as I do <3 hope you enjoy it! (Also, I know Banda supposedely only murdered 4 women, but for dramatics sake I made him more... prolific.)

Masterlist | AO3

His eyes on you made you more nervous than anything you had experienced in this retched place until then. It was both a familiar and unfamiliar feeling, filled with the promise of pain and suffering if you did as much as attempt to look in his direction, which you quickly realized you didn’t want to do.

Coward, a tiny voice in your head accused as you made yourself even smaller in your seat. But you couldn’t help the emotions that being under his predatory gaze evoked within you; primal fear, the uncontrollable need to freeze or flight. You knew that fighting was out of the question where he was concerned. You couldn’t even gather the courage to try it.

Unfortunately, there was no place for you to run or hide in this prison. Not until you left the game a winner.

Or died. One of the two.

You could feel your shoulders tense up as the next round approached minute by minute, and so you hurried to finish your meal, barely tasting the chocolate crumbs on your tongue.

The Jack of Hearts was an easier game than most in your humble opinion, and you were lucky enough to trust your game partner (for now at least) – still, the very real possibility of your demise was always hovering over your head like the dark cloud that it was. However, given your current circumstances, dying didn’t seem like the worse fate you could have.

“You know him, don’t you?”

You jumped in your seat as a man sat beside you, almost choking on your cookie as you tried to hide the grimace that took over your expression as your partner’s eyes sharply looked into yours. You coughed as you shook your head, already denying it despite not even asking whom he was referring to.

“You do.”

“What?” you tried, faking ignorance, only making him roll his eyes.

“Him,” Chishiya said as he nodded in the direction of the man still watching you. “Banda. You know him, don’t you?”

You knew that Chishiya was smarter than most, but you were still impressed by how observant he could be. Or were you that obvious in your state of fear?

“What makes you say that?”

“He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you while you’ve been doing the exact opposite.”

“So what?” you shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but knowing you failed when Chishiya raised a brow. “He just makes me uncomfortable, that’s all. You know as well as I do that he’s a serial killer.”

That would be the understatement of the century.

Banda Sunato didn’t just make you uncomfortable; you feared him to a degree that made you almost incapable of functioning, all your senses focused on him 24/7, waiting for the moment he would strike. Because it wasn’t a matter of if – you knew him too well to ever believe that – but a matter of when; when he would catch you alone.

Because he wasn’t just a serial killer and – to you – he wasn’t just some man, some criminal. He was one of Japan’s most infamous serial killers, with 24 victims confirmed, and who knew how many were still left to admit. Banda Sunato was a man destined to live the rest of his days on death row, until the day he would be executed for his crimes and finally go back to the hell he had spawned from.

You so happened to be the woman that had called him your husband.

“Chishiya.” His voice made a shiver run down your spine, and you could feel your heart start racing against your chest as Banda sat right in front of you, his hands in your field of vision as you stared down at the tabletop. You hadn’t even noticed him approach. “I would like to speak with her alone…”

You gulped as you side-eyed the man beside you, imploring him with your eyes to please not leave you alone with him. However, either by ignorance or cruelty, your pleas fell on deaf ears, and Chishiya stood up and left the table with nothing else but a nod and a wordless hum.

A moment went by where neither you nor Banda said a word, his fingers tip-tapping on the table’s surface in a familiar rhythm; one one two, one one two. Tap tap tap, tap tap tap. He used to tap that same rhythm against your naked skin, and you could always tell if something was bothering him by how fast his movements were. And right now, his fingers were drumming against the tabletop like a nervous tick.

You could feel his eyes on you, observing you, pressuring you into doing or saying something, to give him a reason to act. So, you stayed still, controlling your shaky breathing as your hands trembled. You knew this moment was coming the moment you entered this game arena and your eyes locked.

Then his movements suddenly stopped, and you held your breath.

“You’re scared of me,” he said in a low tone, matter of factly.

“C-Can you blame me?” you whispered back, hiding your hands under the table with a gasp when he attempted to graze his fingers against yours. “Don’t touch me!” you added when his hand followed your movements, grabbing your sleeve.

“I don’t like it.”

You said nothing, eyes still cast down. How could he expect you not to fear him after everything he had done?

“You know better than to be scared,” he continued, a faint hint of annoyance in his tone. You forced yourself to whisper a retort, gathering the courage to say it aloud when he asked, “What did you say?”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you murdered all those women,” you let out, eyes locking on his. He was not angry as you thought he would be, but you could see he wasn’t happy by the small crease in between his brows. He looked at you like you were a child throwing a tantrum and he was the adult that had to make you see reason. For the first time since you saw him again, you started to feel something else than just fear.

“You know I would never hurt you,” he said, fingers gripping your sleeve as he pulled your arm to him.

“I don’t know you, Sunato.” You shook your arm out of his grasp, suddenly aware that others were watching you. Good. “I never really did.”

You gasped when he said your name, looking into his eyes; it was the first time you were hearing it from his lips since he had been ruled guilty of all those murders. You hadn’t dared to read his letters or accept any of his calls since then.

“You know that’s not true,” he said. You averted your eyes again, looking back at him as he repeated your name. “I treated you well, didn’t I?”

He did treat you well. That was why it hurt even more. Because the man that dried your tears after your mother’s passing, took you on random trips and made you laugh with his dark sense of humor couldn’t possibly be the same man that dumped women’s maimed bodies in shallow graves. That was why part of you still mourned the husband you had lost even though more than three years had gone by. The other part simply acted as if he had never existed in the first place.

“You didn’t visit,” he added after a moment of silence. “You promised you would.”

“That was a promise I had to break.”

His face and his name had been everywhere. Every news channel, every newspaper, every time you logged on to social media, there he was; Banda Sunato, 25 years old, The Tokyo Ripper, accused of the horrible murder of 24 women. You hadn’t believed it at first, not even when his only survivor identified him, not even when they matched his DNA, not even when more evidence was found connecting him to the crime scenes. You only believed it when you saw the truth in his eyes, crude and black as coal as the judge declared him guilty and he had no reaction but to smirk.

It was like a mask falling, and underneath it was a monster that you swore you had no idea existed.

You couldn’t lie to yourself after that. Not when everyone could see him for who he really was. Not when he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. Not even from you.

“Do you still love me?”

The question made you gasp in surprise before you felt a frown distort your features.

“Don’t talk to me about love when you don’t even know what the word means,” you spat in his direction as you made a move to stand up; how dare he ask such a thing after what he had done to you?

You gasped as you felt his long fingers curl around your wrist in a tight grip, forcing you to sit back down at the table with visible commotion. You felt your face heat up as you tried to ignore everyone’s looks and whispers. He wouldn’t dare to hurt you in front of others, would he?

His hand let go of your wrist to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His face was so close to yours that you could smell him, that scent that made him him, fresh and misty with a hint of ginger. It made you want to take a deep breath and tears pool in your eyes. You missed him.

“That was not what I asked,” he corrected with a dangerous look in his gaze. He was upset, you could see that, but you also knew him better than anyone. “Do you still love me?”

Your breath got caught in your lungs, and you couldn’t look away from his dark brown eyes, the ones you used to love so much. The ones you still loved, you realized with a tightness in your chest.

“Do you?” you asked in a whisper. “Did you ever love me?”

Something shifted in his eyes, and for a moment you just stared at each other. Then he opened his mouth, but before he could talk a computer voice snapped both of you out of your bubble.

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement cell of your choosing.”

You took that chance to flee, legs shaking as you made your way to the cells on the upper level. You didn’t hesitate as you closed yourself in one, pressing your hands against the sink on the furthest wall and closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath, followed by a low sob.

This game was not what was going to kill you; he was. You had seen it in the way he had looked at you, the way his eyes had darkened when you asked if he had ever truly loved you. You doubt he could ever love anyone, but whatever he felt for you was strong enough to make a chill run down your spine when you thought about it.

It was possessive, primal, like a need. You used to love it when he looked at you like that, mistaking it for passion and devotion. But not now, when you knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if he couldn’t have you.

He had told you that himself, in the first and only letter you had accepted from him. You had ignored every phone call, and had thrown in the trash every note and every other letter; but not that one. Not the one he wrote for your birthday, your second one after he had been sentenced. You felt so lonely, still crying over the husband you had lost, tricking yourself into believing he was dead. Rather dead than a murderer.

And then there was that letter, written in his neat handwriting, spelling out your name, and that was when you realized you couldn’t deny the truth anymore.

You filed for divorce after that, praying to every god that was listening that Banda Sunato never got the chance to be free and chase you down.

Gods – if they even existed – clearly had a twisted sense of humor.

“You know you can’t run from me.”

You tensed as his voice sounded behind you, not exactly surprised to find him stepping in and closing the door before the familiar click of a lock echoed in your ears. You were now locked in a cell with him; you were going to die.

You couldn’t utter a word as a moment passed, eyes focused on him as he calmly walked to stop right in front of you, hands behind his back and a light smirk on his lips. He looked smug, like a fox that had caught the rabbit, but you knew that his emotions were more complex than that. You could see it in the arch of his brow, how tense his jaw was; a small part of him was as nervous as you were.

“Please, give your answer,” the game demanded.

“Spades,” he said, eyes locked on yours. You said nothing, too transfixed by him, waiting for a sign of what he was about to do next. “Say your deck, baby,” he told you after a moment. “C’mon, use your words.”

“H-Hearts,” you forced yourself to utter in a whisper. You almost wished for your answer to be wrong; that way you wouldn’t have to face him anymore. He couldn’t hurt you if you were dead.

You jumped in place as a bang somewhere down the hall announced someone’s mistake, and the doors unlocked soon after. You let out a shaky breath; you were still alive. The game hadn’t killed you yet.

“Aren’t you happy to be alive,” he whispered in your ear, fingers combing through your hair just on the verge of too roughly. “Alive and with me, together again as we were meant to be?”

You shook your head, hands on his chest weakly pushing him away.

“Let me go,” you breathed out in a shaky tone, whimpering as he pushed you against the sink. “Please. I can’t do this…”

“Do what? Be with your husband?”

“Sunato, please, stop-”

“Shh, calm down,” he cooed against your head, arms hugging you closer despite your attempts to push him away. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You gave up then, falling into his embrace. You sobbed against his chest like he had come back from the dead, hugging him like you were afraid he would disappear. The last three years weren’t real; you were still happily married, and he hadn’t killed anyone. You could almost forget where you were and what he had done. Everything would be so much easier if you did.

He was caught by surprise when you kissed him – you could hear it in his gasp and the way he suddenly tensed before relaxing and cupping your cheeks in his hands, urging you to deepen the kiss. You didn’t stop him there, letting his hands roam over your body as he made you sit up on the sink, lips only leaving yours to suck and nibble at the skin available on your neck and chest.

You closed your eyes as the man that had destroyed your life all those years ago ravished you with abandon. He had blood on his hands and he had betrayed you beyond forgiveness. But did any of that matter now?

You refused to believe it did.

Not when his kisses felt like fire on your skin, the cold ceramic of the sink under you barely noticeable as he stripped you naked from the waist down, fingers at your burning core the moment your panties were discarded aside. You were dripping wet before he even touched you, legs shaking as you worked him free of his belt. You wanted him inside you. You would die without him.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he whispered against your cheek as he rutted into you, slender fingers gripping your hip and raising a knee up as he fucked you at a rapid pace, hips snapping against the back of your thighs.

Your core burned in pleasure and pain, your whines and moans muffled by his mouth as he made you feel every inch of him. You had missed his body against yours, his cock inside you, hard and hot and maddening. He fucked you like it was the last time, forcing you to take every inch of him again and again until you were hoarse from screaming and your neck and chest were marked with his teeth. It reminded you of your life from before, when he would come home and fuck you like you were nothing but a whore, leaving you crying, bruised, and dripping with his cum before kissing you senseless and taking care of you for the rest of the night.

Only after did you realize he fucked you like that after a successful killing.

It was madness. All of this. But why would you care when the world itself had become mad?

“Promise you’ll stay with me?” you hesitantly asked as you regained your breath, his forehead pressed against yours and his cum dripping down your leg.

The way he looked at you – full of desire and contentment – made you gift him a smile of your own. He smiled back, a genuine smile, and, for the first time since he was gone, you felt at peace.

“I do. And I never break a promise. I’m not letting you go.”

[justporo]

Words like daggers

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 5

Author's Note: Firstly, don't worry. This part was already finished some time ago. I'm really trying to keep my promise to take my time with things, but I'm SO proud of this part, so you're getting it now and I will just update the fic how I feel like it after this. Also this part is pretty long so next chapter might take a couple more days so I can catch up.

Astarion and Tav finally enter the ball which is a show of blatant excess. Conversations are had, introductions are made and by the end champagne is splashed in peoples' faces and Astarion unknowingly lets out the most vicious of mockeries. Please enjoy!

Song: Camille Saint-Saëns – Danse Macabre Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Lots of swearing, soft mention of SA, people just being dicks...

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

Slowly, the two of you made your way down the stairs to the ginormous ballroom.

Dim golden light from giant chandeliers, candles and mage lights everywhere set the atmosphere: warm, inviting, enticing and a bit gloomy; with the promise of darker corners where the light wouldn’t reach.

On the far end to one side of what could only be described as a hall was almost a full orchestra playing and the dancing was already in full swing – the middle of the room wholly reserved for couples twirling and turning. Enchanting melodies filled the room and sometimes the heavenly voice of an elven singer in front of the orchestra, precariously clothed in a white dress, drifted through the crowd.

Opposite the staircase tall windows and doors led outside where more people were standing with a view of the gardens of Herrenfordt Castle in the moonlight. A view so vast, you could see the hilly greens of the estate, then further below and seemingly an eternity away the twinkling lights of the city and the almost invisible in the darkness of the night: the river Chionthar.

And on the other side from the orchestra, you could see huge and widely thrown open doors that led to other rooms and other parts of the mansion. Quite a lot of the guests seemed to disappear into these other rooms but only few seemed to come back, mostly servants were coming from there – carrying trays loaded with more drinks and some with canapés on them. Yet the main ballroom didn’t seem to empty out anytime soon.

All around people were standing as couples or smaller groups: chatting, slandering, laughing, drinking the champagne or eating the food being offered by the many servants passing through the crowd with huge silver trays. Some seemed to be well in their cups already, staggering or sloshing their drinks while talking and gesticulating animatedly. Some couples already seemed very handsy as well – hands wandering deeper from backs to more insolent regions, décolletages emphasised with a carefully placed hand or arched back, spines straightened and shoulders rolled back to look taller and more intimidating.

Gold, diamonds and pearls seemed to be everywhere you looked. Everything and everyone was sparkling in their finery and giving off the aura of careless excess and frivolous debauchery.

Jewels shone from daunting cleavages, signet rings clanked on chalices, flamboyant headpieces swung around during coquettish laughter, deep red lips left stains on crystal glasses and silk shone like liquid in the dim lighting.

An impressive display of languid ignorance and luxurious degeneracy. And it was more than impressive even – it was intimidating.

You gulped as you let your eyes wander over the scenery and the crowd.

“Chin up, my love, we have a right to be here as much as everybody else. And also, you’re the second most beautiful person in this room, my heart”, you heard Astarion joke beside you. You gave him a look from the side as you indeed lifted your head up some more and straightened your back.

Astarion though didn’t look nervous at all. He wholly looked as if he belonged, his face now a display of arrogant boredom. And more than that even: he well looked like he could be the owner and host of all of this.

“You really have a way with backhanded compliments, you know that?”, you replied and looked down at the crowd again. Even more heads were turned towards you now, observing you as you made your entrance to this ball – and accordingly to the high society of Baldur’s Gate. But at least the pale elf at your side had managed to take the edge of your fear in that moment.

“Tell me I’m wrong, love”, Astarion replied and you could see him grin at you when you threw him another glance. “How could I?” And to that the vampire replied with a genuine smile.

As you descended the last couple of steps you could already see a young, male and pretty broad shouldered servant approach you with a tray full of broad rimmed crystal glasses filled with what you assumed must be this champagne people kept talking about – not that you ever tried it.

The servant came closer, an easy and polite smile on his lips. Seemingly, the dress code for the servants from here on out was much more casual: uniforms for men and women consisting of black pants, vests and loose white shirts which for most were only very lazily laced at the top.

“Ah, time for another lesson, my love: when someone hands you a glass of champagne: never decline!”, Astarion whispered to you as the server offered you the tray and you each carefully grabbed a glass. The server with long and loose black hair and slightly greyish skin – you were sure there must be drow in his ancestry - gave you a small wink then turned around to other guests.

You were surprised for a second and looked at Astarion who simply raised his eyebrows: “I told you, you looked incredible.” You shook your head with furrowed brows and took a sip of the sparkling champagne. As you drank you noticed how almost all faces that had previously been watching you had now turned around again. Obviously, the interest had merely been in watching you being presented like a piece of morsel on a silver platter – no one actually had any interest in getting to know you.

The champagne filled your mouth and surprised you with its taste: prickly and sharp but also with a rich sweetness that filled you and warmly eased its way down your throat. You were surprised to say you liked it.

While you drank you let your eyes wander of the crowd and found it quite diverse, but not as diverse as you were used to from your city: many humans and half-elves were present which wasn’t a surprise because they made up a large portion of the city’s overall population. Proportionally many elves were guests even which also wasn’t surprising because many were nobles and mostly represented in the Upper City. Even some tieflings or dragonborns were to be seen but rarely any dwarves, halflings or other races. Which confirmed what you had feared: while the city was generally pretty diverse and inclusive, the high society was elitist and only open too few. The champagne in your mouth tasted suddenly a bit like bile as you thought about that.

But your critical thoughts were soon interrupted by your soulmate. “Oh, what a fine drop. Dear, dear, I wouldn’t be surprised if this champagne wasn’t only older than you, my sweet, but also older than me”, Astarion said after he had taken some sips too. “This must unimaginably expensive”, he continued and let his gaze wander to you just as you had just downed the rest of your glass.

“Tav!”, he shrieked, his voice immediately several octaves higher as you blushed and realised that you had probably gulped down more money’s worth than you had paid for alcoholic beverages so far in your life. “But you said to never decline champagne”, you answered remorsefully. “Yes, decline, I didn’t tell you to down it like a pint of lukewarm beer tasting like piss”, the vampire hissed at you, but you already saw the servant from before approach again, throwing you a wicked smile and letting you swap out your empty glass for a new filled one. You thanked the server with a smile as he winked at you a second time and left again.

“And stop flirting with the staff!”, Astarion spat albeit you could hear that he was only teasing. Still, you were dangerously tempted to stomp on his foot: “I didn’t do anything! You told me to drink the champagne and suddenly I’m doing it all wrong or what? And you dragged me here all dolled up as if you wanted to show me off!” Your tone was half mad, half joking.

The vampire didn’t reply but pulled you in with a smirk by putting one arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest before he said in a tone that wasn’t remorseful at all: “I mean you’re not wrong. Maybe a bit of ‘showing you off’ was part of my plan for the night. Mostly though it was how much I could dress you up to my personal liking.” He grinned seductively at you, his lip darting out to lick over his lips and for a moment you forgot you were in public. You let yourself be kissed by the elf with open lips, your free hand digging into his doublet as the mood turned from your playful bickering to something other.

At least in the back of your mind a voice reminded you that you were very much publicly making out with Astarion. But then you remembered how you already had seen some couples very obviously sneak away to darker and deeper corners of the castle. If you were putting on a show for someone you were at least sure to blend right in with the crowd.

“And by any means, darling”, Astarion whispered to you as he broke the kiss but kept staring at your lips “keep drinking as much champagne as you like. You know people say it’s an aphrodisiac, right?” You blushed but couldn’t reply as the vampire pressed his lips to you again, one of his fangs shortly grazing your bottom lip and making you shiver.

“I’m not carrying you home though when you pass out”, he whispered when he broke the kiss again. You made a face at him although your head was still spinning from the kiss – also you were absolutely sure that he would carry you home if the need arose.

“I’m not carrying you home either, Astarion, just so were both on the same page here”, you replied and stuck your tongue out at him, then turned around. The vampire softly placed his free hand on the small of your back and softly lead you around the enormous ballroom.

You made to walk around the room for a little while, each just sipping on your champagne – Astarion now stealing naughty looks at you whenever you lifted your glass to your lips. Your partner had taken up some of his commentary from earlier as you walked around the room. Pointing out some people he knew and what their dirty laundry was as you kept drinking. Meanwhile the music and the dancing continued. Couples of all combinations entered and danced, those who left looked giddy and flushed. You were actually starting to feel excited to join them later on but for that you felt you had need of a few more glasses of champagne.

And as you were on your third and Astarion on his second glass you were suddenly approached with a subtle cough from the side as you were passing an open door that led outside.

As you looked over you saw a slender half-elf man with dodgy eyes looking at you. When you found his gaze, he cheerfully said: “Ah, you must be Lord and Lady Ancunín! Would you do us all the honours of maybe joining us for a while?”

He motioned towards a small group of people: a beautiful young tiefling woman just as slender as him but with incredibly sad eyes and blue skin that seemed to be his wife, another couple, human, consisting of a man with a bushy beard who seemed way too buff for his doublet and a woman with a dangerously deep neckline and several strands of pearls around her neck who was holding a very furry, small dog, and finally another seemingly a bit older half-elf woman with an incredibly tasteless headpiece with feathers.

You quickly looked at Astarion who looked at you and shrugged before he softly put his hand on your back again to lead you towards the strange little group.

Astarion softly whispered to you: “Remember, if you don’t feel comfortable just elbow them ‘on accident’”- he air quoted, lifting his hand from your back shortly – “and watch what happens before you leave.” You grimaced at him but felt thankful for his quip, nonetheless.

The slender one who had talked to you first introduced everyone while nervously running his hands through is sleeked back hair. You listened to all the fancy long names and titles and immediately forgot them again. But you were sure it didn’t matter anyway.

“Oh my, Lord Ancunín, how have you been hiding for so long from society, hm?”, the lady with the dog said and made eyes at your soulmate while letting one hand wander the rim of her deep cleavage, so obviously not hiding her interest in Astarion. Meanwhile, the dog on her other arm started to snarl and bark at the vampire excessively. The vampire rolled his tongue in his mouth and took a drink of his champagne as his eyes followed her hand riskily wander the outline of her breasts. You immediately felt anger rise up in you at her audacity. The grip on your glass tightened and you were sure your face must’ve immediately slipped.

You saw how Astarion’s nose softly wrinkled in disgust. His eyes jumped back to the lady and bored into her: “I haven’t exactly been hiding from society, I’ve just been otherwise occupied.”

You knew he was playing at being under Cazador’s thumb but dog lady obviously mistook his words. “Shame, really! If I had met you earlier, I would have eaten you right up, my dear”, she replied, chuckled and patted Astarion on the arm – the vampire’s nose scrunched up even more and you felt him tense beside you. He smoothly stepped out of her reach, she let her hand lay on the bare skin of her chest again and kept batting her eyelashes at him. The grip on your glass of champagne tightened even more as you felt like you had entered a den of wolves.

The rest of their little group giggled softly, obviously used to her insolent behaviour. Only the tiefling lady with the sad eyes kept simply drinking from her chalice and looking out longingly at the gardens bathed in silver moonlight.

You suddenly felt the urge to grab Astarion’s hand, so you did. You squeezed his hand reassuringly. He squeezed back a bit and lifted it up shortly to press a kiss to your fingers with a short glance towards you under the judgemental eyes of the rest of the group.

Meanwhile, the dog kept barking at the vampire. “Pomme de terre! Will you be silent for once!”, dog lady shrieked at her puppy and then shook him to silence him, much to your shock and disgust.

Astarion who had just then been taking another sip practically snorted into his glass. He lifted his chin and said with a vicious gleam in his eyes: “Vous avez nommer cet chien ‘pomme de terre’? Vraiment?” Your head turned towards him, brows furrowing – you hadn’t understood a single word of what he’d been saying.

But neither had anyone of the small group of nobles. The broad-shouldered husband of the one addressed simply coughed and emptied his drink. The rest threw each other looks that clearly stated their opinions about the two of you: scum.

“Vous êtes plus stupide que je l’imaginais, bravo!”, Astarion continued as he received only questioning looks in response again and took a deep swig of his champagne with a maliciously mocking grin. The dog kept barking and growling as the group threw each other confused looks once more. The owner of the dog looked definitely displeased by what she at least interpreted correctly as mockery at her expense.

As the silence dragged on, Astarion leaned over to you and quickly whispered to explain: “She called her dog ‘potato’ in another common tongue I am sure she does not know a single word off.”

Then he grinned at you, you grinned back. Of course, he’d be the one to know something like this and be able to call her out on it. You had to be honest: you loved it when Astarion showed off his vast knowledge, especially if it were others on the receiving end.

And you didn’t feel as intimidated anymore: they might think you were beneath them, but you knew they were beneath you – at least in terms of character.

Dog lady looked both of you up and down in a very judgemental way. Her husband motioned towards one of the servants, grabbing two glasses – one for himself and one for his wife who didn’t even look at him while taking the drink from him – and then patting the young man carrying the tray on the chest in thanks. Then silence spread again after Astarion’s mockery. Solely the dog kept barking and started to get on your nerves a little – but who could blame the creature with its bad luck in ownership.

Then suddenly a murmur started to rise through the crowd, especially inside, making everyone’s heads turn. At the top of the stairs stood a tall, blond man, elegantly dressed raising a glass towards the people who clapped and cheered. So, this was probably your mysterious host Lord De Grodt. You grabbed Astarion by his sleeve, but he was occupied with something else.

Astarion used the moment of commotion to bare his teeth and hiss at the dog who immediately stopped barking. He started to whimper and squirm in his owner’s arms, desperate to get away from what had revealed himself as the much bigger predator until the rude lady finally set him down and he could hide behind her skirts.

By the time Astarion had turned around the host had already disappeared again somewhere atop the gallery. The vampire looked quizzically at you but you just waved it off for the moment – you were already occupied enough with the nobles right in front of you.

The group started to talk again but explicitly left you out of the conversation now. Obviously, Astarion’s taunting had moved you down enormously on their list of interests – or rather him. It almost felt like you had been invisible for them from the start; not counting the very first mention.

The lady with the ugly feather headpiece started to talk about how her estate’s upkeep in Neverwinter just kept rising because personnel was just so expensive. She kept waving her hands around and you noticed she was wearing excessively big rings that were just as ugly as her hat.

You threw Astarion a glance who kept staring at the pretentious nobles and weren’t completely sure how to interpret his facial expression. You would have liked to leave but then again… You had overcome more mortal perils than you could tell, you surely wouldn’t shy away from some arrogant assholes. So you took another big sip of champagne and lifted your chin up while you let your free hand wander up Astarion’s back until it laid on his shoulder. He absent-mindedly covered it with his own as he kept staring at the others – his demeanour almost as if he were a cat focusing on the prey in front of him.

The lady with the feather headpiece noticed your gesture and looked at your joint hands on Astarion’s shoulder for a moment. Then her eyes suddenly jumped to yours with a glint in them you couldn’t quite place.

She spoke in a sudden outburst that halted all other conversation: “And so you must be the lord’s…”, she said and gave you a look that immediately gave you the feeling of being naked before her. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated yet again and stayed silent.

“I mean, I would have said wife because you were introduced as Lord and Lady but I didn’t see a ring on either of your hands and nowadays people would bring the staff they’re sleeping with.” She gave an absolutely over the top sort of laugh that made your hairs stand on end. The others joined in with mocking laughter: dog lady lifted her hand to cover her mouth and gave you a mean look. Even the tiefling gave a condescending snarl as you could feel yourself turn a deep shade of red. And you really didn’t like how it seemed the attention had now shifted to you.

“Yes, I mean, can you remember when Lord Levlon brought his ex-wife’s maid when she already had a huge belly? Nobody believed that had happened before the divorce!”, the skittish guy who had first spoken to you said and cackled.

“But don’t worry, my love, seems your beau still seems to be fairly interested in you – even though let’s see how long. Don’t take it personal but you don’t seem to be of the same standing as everyone else”, said feather hat. Your gaze snapped to hers as you felt you lost grip on the situation. They all suddenly seemed to close in on you.

“Men are so quickly captivated by a pair of young and perky breasts until they realise there’s no brain to go with the tits”, dog lady continued and placed her hand on her cleavage again and arched an eyebrow at you while smirking – as if that were the case for her.

“But do not be worried. If your lover here gets you knocked up, he’ll probably pay generous amounts of gold to keep you quiet and the child hidden”, skittish guy said with a vicious grin at you.

Astarion stared at everyone, his fingers over yours squeezing them as he was fuming with rage, almost hurting you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to say anything but rather that he didn’t trust himself to not rip them up in front of all the other guests if he dared so much as move a single finger. His brows were drawn together so much in anger, the wrinkle between them seemed impossibly deep.

“They always pay to cover up their shame”, beard guy said and downed the rest of his champagne in one go and waved for the young male servant again.

“It’s always the same, honestly”, dog lady sighed theatrically “the most beautiful ones only tend to think with their cock and the tacky little sluts seize the oppor-“

“STOP TALKING TO US LIKE THAT, BITCH!”, you screamed in a sudden outburst, burning with rage and before you could think better of it you threw the rest of your champagne in the face of this wretched woman. She gasped but was obviously dumbfounded by your short circuit reaction.

You knew your face must be fire red. You didn’t shout loud enough to raise your voice above the rest of the party, but people around surely started to raise eyebrows, turn their gaze and shake their heads.

“My, would you listen to the mouth on that thing”, the tiefling woman said with an incredibly disgusted face. The first thing she said since you had been standing there and it was to mock you. That finally made Astarion snap out of his blind rage enough to react.

The vampire downed the rest of his champagne then set down the crystal glass down so hard it cracked on the tray of the servant who had just come over and now awkwardly stood beside him and beard guy as the drama unfolded. The vampire let go of your fingers and your hand fell weakly to your side again.

“Oh, you should better fucking listen, indeed, darling”, he growled. “Because that’s quite the attitude for someone whose husband fucks a woman so tasteless, she wears dresses her tits almost fall out of”, Astarion continued and let his gaze wander to dog lady whose mouth immediately formed a surprised O.

The tiefling woman stared at Astarion in shock as her skittish husband became somehow even more skittish and started to open and close his mouth soundlessly like a fish and helplessly flailing his arms – confirming Astarion’s words without having to speak.

“Oh, you hadn’t known yet? Pity, maybe if you stopped staring off into the distance you would have noticed how they kept looking at each other and licked their lips”, the vampire went on with a huge and unfriendly grin now splitting his face. Then his gaze went back to the dog woman.

Meanwhile, your jaw almost dropped as you kept listening to him. More people around you started to turn around, some gasped as you had certainly become a centre of attention now. Murmurs rose around you.

“I wonder why though you felt like you needed to downgrade yourself so much. Ah, but maybe it’s because your husband so obviously has a thing for the male servers here and keeps making them uncomfortable with his gazes and touches”, Astarion snarled. The servant beside him gasped and then quickly turned on his heel and left.

The group was dead silent now. Only feather hat was snickering nastily. But then the vampire’s gaze fell on her: “Oh and don’t think you’ll leave as the gracious one here. The estate you pretend you’re owning in Neverwinter? It has been knocked down for decades. Maybe do better research if you’re only pretending to be rich. And get better replica rings, a blind person could tell you these are fake, dear.”

Now everyone was silent, you could only stare at your soulmate who had absolutely verbally decimated this group of pretentious nobles. But there was one final blow to be dealt.

“None of you seem to have a brain to go with anything, really – except for how much you all deserve each other’s vile company. Ah, and maybe some gold and a title that once meant something – but watch how quickly that turns to dust when you miserably rot alone”, Astarion finished with a hiss and cocked an eyebrow at the round before he gave a vicious version of his best signature smirk.

They simply stared at him as he then gave a curt but elegant bow and turned to you: “My sweet, beautiful, smart and wonderful darling, would you like to leave now? I fear we’ll only get dumber if we stay here.” He offered you his hand which you gratefully took and smiled at his compliments.

You both turned around to go back inside.

“You BITCH”, you heard as you walked away – followed by a loud smack and different screams of pain, shock and anger. More shouts and smacking sounds followed; you could hear the dog barking again. Seemingly a fight had broken out.

You didn’t look back, you just threw Astarion a glance who smiled at you wickedly. A mirroring smile slowly crept onto your face as you kept looking at your partner in crime.

“That was so much better than just elbowing them”, you said to Astarion as your wicked grin grew broader.

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear