#Red Elemental Blast

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

So I’m in a deeply red incredibly conservative state.  I ran a pride month 5k awhile back. The usual group of 3 protestors with an incredibly loud bullhorn showed up to yell at us about how trans people are mutilating themselves and AIDS is God’s judgement and we’re a menace to children etc. etc. etc. But they were vastly outnumbered by runners and volunteers. One of the first race announcements was that they hadn’t ordered enough T-shirts for the amount of people who ended up running, and would have to reorder, so anyone who wanted another race T-shirt should sign up now.

We’re all used to the protestors by now, they show up everywhere. We just ignore them. Interacting with them just encourages them.

I hadn’t realized how early the race date was this year compared to previous years and hadn’t prepared as much, and there were a lot of hills; not to mention there was some confusion as to the race route which resulted in the announcer referring to it post-run as a “4-mile 5k” (they are supposed to be about 3.5 miles. One guy ended up in an entirely different district of the city from where the race route was and still finished first.) I ended up walking a lot of the race, but I finished it, and did do a fair bit of running.

I had top surgery a few years ago but I’ve only gotten comfortable running shirtless this year as body fat redistribution happened. I had been trying to decide if I wanted to run shirtless or not before the protestors showed up and started yelling, then I was like ah. I will run past the transphobes shirtless like a human middle finger. And that is what I did. was wearing delightfully garish rainbow shorts I found at a thrift store and my pink triangle necklace.

Some Americorps volunteers were directing runners at one of the more confusing junctions, I high fived one and panted that I had just joined Conservation Corps. The sound of angry bullhorn shouting faded almost immediately behind us, and there were rainbow flags hanging in several of the yards we ran past throughout the route.

As in previous years, a lot of tough incredibly fit beautiful older people, mostly women, breezed past me during the race. One jogged up even with me with an encouraging “what would you do for a klondike bar!” I wasn’t sure how to reply to this and didn’t have the breath to express that I did not want anything thick or creamy at that moment, but what did come out was “you did remind me that there’s beer at the finish line.” Another lady who walked and jogged near me for awhile near the middle-latter half of the race talked a bit and complained that one of the volunteers organizing the race hadn’t set up the “water” table with fireball shots that she did for some other races and we just got a regular water and gatorade station!

Coming back to the finish line I was handed a flag and ran past long rows of cheering people. Around the corner the protestors were still lurking, but were mostly silent now. Apparently they had gotten worn out by just standing there and not running. As I passed the bullhorn guy shook himself out of his torpor enough to give a halfhearted “is it a man? is it a woman? who knows anymore?” I passed him and the sound of cheering, and then the 80s music (I remember Blondie and ABBA) they were blasting closer to the finish line.

Once most of the runners were back there was a fun run for the kids. A couple of the older ones had also run the 5k (I just know the protestors were awful to the poor guys ughh) but all of them made a lap around the parking lot and got handed medals. All of the adult volunteers and participants spread out around the middle of the parking lot so that there was someone cheering and waving flags for the kids along every step of the route.

There were free snacks, water and beer courtesy of our sponsor [brand redacted]. There was also non-alcoholic “beer”, which I thought was nice to see, I’d been thinking there was a heavily alcoholic element to a lot of local queer events. I drank a lot of water and ate some food before getting a free beer, which still hit me pretty hard after the run. While I was hovering around the refreshment table a big handsome butch came up next to me and I noticed a faded tattoo on her arm of a chain, each link a different color of the rainbow.

I went to put something down in my car just as the protestors were starting to leave, and realized that they were moving on a course that overlapped with mine as I walked to my car. I decided I wasn’t going to stop or veer out of their way and just see what they did. As I got closer they seemed to be talking about how we had definitely totally noticed that they were leaving (no one had.) They noticed me coming towards them and suddenly got quiet, avoided eye contact and skittered out of my way. Ha.

I stumbled into the nearby fundraiser to cool down and sober up in the air conditioning before I left. They were playing girl in red, rupaul, that girls/girls/boys song by Panic! at the disco, and that Taylor Swift song “You need to calm down” that some people on this site complained was cringe. The lady next to me sang along to “shade never made anybody less gay.” I bought a baseball hat.

It’s easy, I think especially if you’re very online and not very active in your local community, to start feeling like there’s no queer community in your area and we’re outnumbered by people who hate us. Unless you live in the middle of Westoboro Baptist territory that’s generally not true. I cannot stress enough how incredibly conservative and red my area is. We’ve got like 3 very loud people with nothing better to do who bother us at every event, and large amounts of people across all demographics who show up in support. I’ve been thinking about this post by @headspace-hotel about not being able to find stuff online and this is a slightly different thing but yeah. If you don’t know what there is in your area, you don’t know what you’re looking for or where to find it when searching online. If you search “is there queer stuff happening near me” google is going to shrug and recommend you Products And Services that it can Sell You. When I moved back home after spending some time in a much more blue state (but which had much less of a sense of community--I think it’s the way we band together down here when we know just what the stakes are) I felt like I was going to be the only trans person in the state, then someone mentioned to me that there was a local private facebook group for trans people to share personal posts and resources with many hundreds of members. There are more of us that aren’t on facebook. The Facebook group, though, introduced me to many more resources I hadn't known were in my area.

Get outside. Find some sort of local queer event and ask around. There will be other queer people. There is very likely something you’re interested in already happening or people who would love to work with you to start it if not. Even if you’re in a very red very rural state, you’re not alone, and chill or neutrally polite people vastly outnumber the few assholes, it’s just that the assholes are very loud and especially if you’ve been marinating in overwhelmingly toxic online environments it can feel like they’re everywhere. They’re not. Don’t give them that power.

The current legal landscape is terrifying and needs a lot of work but it doesn't reflect lived experiences. Get outside, find your local community, show up to in-person events if at all possible, it’s so encouraging.

[probablybadrpgideas]

More unconventional world-threatening disasters for your heroes to fight

The halflings have finally fucking snapped

Unfortunate political loophole gives ravenous ghoul total power, everyone upset at being eaten but insisting they need to respect the process.

World's greatest Archmage is drunk off their ass

There's some guy in a cape with glowing red eyes cackling and waving a skull staff around. He's not explicitly done anything wrong but, like, we kind of assume there must be something going on there. Right?

The blessed artifact that will save the world from the demon invasion has a big spider on it and no-one wants to go near it.

Someone gave the Tarrasque a knife

Every time someone casts a spell the moon comes one inch closer to the earth.

Oh shit the Elves just invented capitalism

Cursed item that will destroy the world if anyone says "rhubarb" near it. No-one knows which item it is.

Fire elemental desperately lonely and coming to the material plane for hugs.

There's one warlock who's just eldritch blasting everyone on the planet one by one, like an asshole.

Poorly considered Elder Evil Vacation Day coming up.

The GM is getting bored, and the PCs must entertain them from within the game lest they abandon the game and render their world non-existence.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Double Trouble (Aaron Pierre x Black Reader x MBJ)

Warnings! NSFW, HEAVY BDSM, HEAVY Daddy kink, threesome (MFM), Everything is consensual! Degredation kink, Praise kink, Bratty reader, Dom! Aaron, Dom!MBJ

A/N: went hella overboard with this one! The plot is pure filth.

***

“Baby?” 

Your soft calls were barely loud enough to be heard over your boyfriend’s latest afrobeats obsession, which blasted through your shared home’s sound system. You lazily kicked off your red bottoms, a guttural sigh of relief escaping you as your exhausted feet relaxed out of the painful position it required to sport such beautiful but impractical shoes all day.

On your way to hunt down the love of your life, you stopped by your study, not even bothering to turn on the light as you discarded your Chloe work tote in your chair and closed the door behind you. 

After closing the biggest case of your career, you would not need to see the interior of either of your offices for a week and that almost brought tears of joy to your eyes. You and Aaron did not even have the energy to plan a trip. Having just wrapped a project two weeks prior, you both were overjoyed to spend a week at home wrapped up in each other.

You rolled your shoulders. Prayerfully, your boyfriend would take pity on you and give you a massage to ease the knots that took up residence in your back. You lazily made your way to the kitchen, knowing where you’d find the man you loved - but currently did not like. 

His back was to the arched entryway as you snuck in behind him, stealing a grape from his masterful charcuterie board that sat nearby. 

Despite your righteous annoyance at him, you never missed an opportunity to simply admire Aaron in his element. Like most actors, he suffered from the curse of always having to be “on.” But in the sanctuary of your home, he could just be Aaron, your gentle, loving, goofy, carefree boyfriend. 

And it certainly helped that he looked positively delicious today, setting a stupid table for a stupid dinner you didn’t want to host. He did every day but something was about him today in particular just made you want to sink to your knees and worship him with your tongue. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction today. You were pissed off. 

And that lust simply soured into red hot annoyance at the surprise guest your too-kind boyfriend invited to dinner. And while you never usually complained about company,  after months of endless days and sleepless and sexless nights, your vision of a relaxing evening was not entertaining a third wheel. 

It was a tall glass of wine, an amazing meal. And… then having your daddy twist you into a literal human pretzel and fuck the stress out of your body. 

But he hated you, clearly.

A sentiment you articulated (along with others) in a snarky text hours earlier. But Aaron, forever unbothered by your theatrics, merely responded that you should trust your daddy because… 

Daddy knows best. 

And despite the strong independent lawyer inside you who demanded control and to be right (and she usually was), you knew he was right about this one thing. Aaron could always see exactly what you needed. 

And despite your attitude earlier, you still spied his traditional gift for you after winning a big case neatly displayed on the white marble counter: your favorite cake from a bakery nearby and a bouquet of tulips. The varying vibrant shades of pink made something in your soul smile. He knew you too well.

Your silent studying did not go unnoticed for long, Aaron turning around not even startled to find you there. His expressive eyes lit up at the sight of your half grin, which you tried to suppress because you were supposed to be angry at him, and the hand on your hip as you leaned into the counter. 

He was in front of you before you could blink, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into his embrace. His muscles were threatening to destroy the fabric of his crisp button down, many of his clothes ill equipped to handle the additional muscles he gained for his latest project. 

“Hey princess.” 

Forever a brat and annoyed at the implosion of your plans for the night, you jerked your head to the side as he kissed you, forcing his lips to catch your cheek instead. 

Aaron merely let out a low chuckle, knowing that your bark was far worse than your bite. 

When it came to Aaron, you were about as strong as a lawn chair. You’d fold without resistance. Every. Single. Time. You always thought you were God’s strongest soldier… until you met Aaron. Kryptonite indeed. 

“Still mad at me?” 

“Yes,” you folded your arms as best you could against your chest, scoffing. “Between you playin’ the british assassin all around LA and me trying to negotiate with that asshole partner, we’ve had zero time together and no time to relax. And our first real free night in months without briefs and lines to run, you wanna play captain save a nigga with your friend? And then you spring it on me on some last minute shit. Those lips aren’t gonna get you outta this one, A.” 

“I know, I know, Y/N. And I’m sorry for messing up your plans for the night. I know how excited you are to finally have a break. But I’m trying to surprise you so please just trust me. If I know you like I think I do, you’re gonna like it.” 

“Well I think we’re about to make history then.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The first time you get a surprise wrong. Honestly it’s probably a good thing? You’ve always been a bit too perfect to be real,” you added, causing him to grin. “But the only thing I would like right now is for you to fuck me into oblivion. So unless this dinner guest can help with that, I doubt I’ll like it. But what’s done is done. Now let me go so I can get ready.” 

A stare down. Another moment where you’d inevitably crumbled. Because only Jesus himself was strong enough to stare in those eyes and not give this man everything you had. 

However, to your surprise, he looked away from you first, nodding and letting his arm fall so you could head upstairs. 

You started to walk out of the kitchen, prepared to sulk the last of your frustrations away before putting on the smile of a gracious host when you heard him call after you. 

“What if they can?”

“What if they can what?” you glanced behind you. 

“Help me fuck you into oblivion.” 

You lurched forward, his words stopping you dead in your tracks. 

No… he couldn’t mean… The tiniest thrill of excitement jolted across your brain like a shooting star. But you steadied yourself. He couldn’t possibly mean what you were thinking. So you played it off. 

“Ha. ha. Ha. Very funny, A.” 

“You hear me laughin’?” 

You slowly turned around to find him behind you, his eyes brimmed with pure lust. But nothing in his face signaled he was joking about a single thing. 

“Remember all those fantasies you told me about, princess?” 

It would take lifetimes for you to forget. You had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life telling Aaron every filthy fantasy you had while he fucked you on your apartment balcony. You prayed they were long forgotten by breakfast the next morning, but he remembered every single one. And ever since, he made it his mission to help you fulfill them. 

“Wait… you’re ser- you’re serious? You want to-” 

It was most certainly a fantasy but the practicalities of it seemed unrealistic. You never seriously considered that Aaron would ever try to arrange it.

He merely smirked and pressed his lips to the top of your nose. His voice was low, hypnotic and mesmerizing. 

“Got a few treats upstairs for you. Go get ready.” 

“Wait… we aren’t gonna talk about this?? You aren't gonna give me details?” 

“Nah. You’re gonna be a good girl for me tonight right, baby? I’d hate to punish you in front of company, princess.” 

But EYE wouldn't hate that. A voice echoed in your brain, the thought of a spanking making you want to disobey just for the hell of it.

“Of course you’d like the sound of that,” he teased you before his eyes softened a bit. You could tell he saw it. That kernel of hesitation at the whole affair, that side of you that had to be in the driver’s seat wanting to talk and litigate every risk before you leaned into the pleasure of it.

“Hey, Y/N… baby. This is just going to be a fun night. And the moment it’s no longer fun for you, we stop. Just like that. Just say the word. If you aren’t feelin' it and him, we end it and it's still just a fun night with a friend. Understand?” 

You nodded before correcting yourself so he didn’t have to. “Yes, I understand. Your surprise might’ve won out again… maybe you really are perfect.”

He shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been tryin' to tell you. Just gotta trust me. Now go get ready. Only wear what I laid out for you.” 

Every step to your master suite pumped up your adrenaline. And made you fall deeper in love with your boyfriend. And his ability to fulfill your needs and desires and center your pleasure. He knew your limits, your boundaries, your needs and never wavered. 

A black cocktail dress waited for you with strappy gold heels. Along with your gold choker, with “good girl” engraved on its gold charm and your gold bullet.

Your skin felt electrified, a buzz radiating from every cell as you readied yourself. You weren’t surprised at the slick already pooling at the crest of your thick thighs when you slid your thong to the side and eased the bullet into you. You hissed at the cool silicone against your heat but you persisted. It was uncomfortable for a moment but as you continued dressing, you long forgot its presence. You knew its companion, a small gold remote, was with your master. Exactly where it should be.

You examined yourself in the mirror, hands running over your soft curves as you studied yourself. You had to admit that Aaron picked well. The dress accentuated his favorite parts of your body, hugging your hourglass shape so your ass and thighs were on display. The cutouts and mirroring each side of your ribs and plunging neckline would give him easy access to your boobs, which were begging to be freed from the confines of the tight bodice. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous baby.” 

“Thank you. You picked well.” 

“Final touch?” he picked up your choker, which waited for him on the bed. He always had the privilege of putting it on you. Because it signified the official start of your game. When the choker was on, your pleasure, your body was his to command, his to give and his to take away. Sweet surrender of control to the person you trusted most in this world. 

He towered over you as he stood behind you and placed the piece on your neck.  

“We’re gonna have dinner, dessert and then if you’re comfortable with continuing the night, just ask him to stay for a drink. Otherwise, the night will end. Understand?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” His hands traced the hourglass shape of your curves, his hands stilling only once along the near-indistinguishable lines of your thong. However, as he opened his mouth to speak, the shrill chime of their doorbell interrupted him. He sighed, turning you around in his arms. “Later. Ready to have some fun?” 

“Yes daddy.” 

Even in heels you had to stretch yourself to reach his lips. He took your hand, leading you down the stairs, some of your nerves being replaced by sudden intrigue. 

“You really aren’t gonna tell me who it is??” 

“What would be the fun in that?” With a wink back at her, he jogged the remaining steps and crossed the foyer with the quickness of an athlete and swung their door open. 

“Hey man! Thanks for coming by. Glad we could do this.” 

“Definitely, definitely. Thanks for the invite, man.” 

And that was the second time today you found yourself stopped dead in your tracks. The Michael B. Jordan stepped into your foyer, his charisma and star-powered charm oozing out of his pores as if he naturally produced it. 

Fuck me. He invited your celebrity crush, the main character of far more wet dreams than you’d ever admit out loud. And while Aaron was it for you, if you could ever take advantage of the “celebrity hall pass��� concept, Michael Bae Jordan would be at the top of your list.

Well, that’s what he’s here to do. Daddy does indeed know best. 

At first, you had a feeling you’d be taking Aaron’s out. But now? Hell would have to freeze over before you gave up the opportunity of your dreams. Part of you cursed yourself for not guessing it was him to begin with. Aaron had been in a total bromance with the man since they wrapped filming. But now you had more questions. How did this even come up? How do you organize a threesome? Is this just a normal thing to talk about?

Who the fuck cares? You’re about to have the night of your life. 

You pushed them to the back of your mind, filing them away for tomorrow.

“And I don’t think you met my girl yet officially, but this is Y/N." The introduction forced your legs to start to move again, down the stairs and toward him.

“Geesh… they didn’t make lawyers like this when I was comin’ up. Michael,” he introduced himself. He held out his arms for a hug. “Aaron’s told me so much about you.” 

“Good thin-,” You started to toss your boyfriend a teasing grin as you closed the last couple of feet to return Michael’s hug. However, just as you were in arm’s length, the forgotten vibrator nestled inside you came alive. You let out an involuntary cross between a sigh and a moan that couldn’t be hidden. 

Could the ground open and just swallow me? 

Michael’s eyes glistened with amusement, letting you know he was not ignorant to your reality. 

“You good, baby girl?” he asked, with a knowing grin as you tried to avoid squirming in his embrace.

“Y-Yea, yea. Just h-had a chill. I was just gonna say that I hope he’s t-telling you good things,” you stammered, the jolts of pleasure siphoning off fractions of your vocal ability.

“Only good things, I promise. Just that you were the sexiest and best lawyer he’d ever seen. He was right about the first part, I’m sure he’s right about the second too.” 

“Hardly the best.” Your tone and smile were the picture of humility at his praise. You liked the sound of it on his lips, you also didn’t hate the way “baby girl" sounded when he said it too. 

“Y/N is being hella modest. She’s about to be the youngest junior partner in her firm’s history. And the first black woman.” 

“Aye! That’s what’s up! So we’re celebrating tonight?”

You grinned. “Don’t wanna get ahead of ourselves… just office gossip you know. We’ll see in a week.” 

Fuck, he was sexier than you imagined. Somehow tvs and movies simply didn’t do him justice. Like Aaron, he was at his peak physical weight, his muscles thick and lethal. They both stood in front of you looking like Gods, cut from the most perfect stone. 

“I-it’s just so great to meet you. You’re one of my favorite actors.” 

Michael drank you in like you were the finest glass of scotch, savoring every inch of skin exposed, every curve on prominent display. You felt hot underneath his stare, as if he had xray vision to see the promised lands this dress covered. You almost wilted like a flower under his intensity. 

We aren’t gonna make it through dinner, you thought to yourself. Or I can just be dinner. 

It was not your worst thought by far. The vision was quite enticing. Aaron ordering you to strip for them before displaying you on the table so they could feast on you. Your eyes darkened with clouds of lust. You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath, noting the amused glance that passed between the two men. Were all your thoughts broadcasting to them? 

“We… should go into the dining room. Dinner’s basically ready,” you offered as the lamiest attempt to escape the spotlight of them. You held your hand out for his coat, giving both men a perfect view of your ass as you turned to hang it in the closet. 

You didn’t attempt to hide the grin at the quiet but distinguishable wolf whistle from Michael. It felt good to know he liked what he saw. 

And the feeling was most certainly mutual. Michael and Aaron kept you laughing all through dinner as they enthralled you with stories from set. He was engaging and funny and you loved the genuine brotherhood between him and your boyfriend. There was nothing but raw sexual chemistry between you but that was all you needed. Mutual attraction.

The only disappointing aspect of dinner was the utter silence between your legs. Once he turned it off at the start of dinner, Aaron didn’t touch that remote again, much to your chagrin. Two hours and several glasses of wine at the dinner table with two men gently caressing your arms and exposed thighs was a recipe for disaster. And you knew he could tell, see how worked up they had made you, how desperately you wanted more attention. 

By dessert, you stopped retaining their words. They were utter nonsense to you because there were far more important things to consider. Like Michael’s dominating muscles and large hands, wondering how strong his grip will be when he fucks you from behind. Punishingly so, you prayed. 

You swung between wanting to savor the compliments and worship of two men with needing to be filled, a need that almost had you begging them to fuck you right amongst the dinner plates. But you knew Aaron. The night was young and he liked to play with his prize. 

By everyone’s fifth glass of wine, the conversation started to wind down, Michael getting up to head home. 

“Thanks so much for this, man. Appreciate the invite. Good to catch up n shit.”

“Oh you have to leave so soon?” There was a hint of sadness in your voice, coupled with the pleas of your signature puppy eyes. 

“I probably should… Gettin’ late, can’t take up your whole night.” 

You assessed the moment briefly, confirming with every cell in your body and functioning brain cell in your head that you needed this more than the oxygen in the room. 

So instead of wishing this walking wet dream a good night, you said, “You should stay for one more drink. We got this amazing bottle when we went to the South of France for our anniversary. Baby, we should open it and sit outside? It’s so nice out. We’re down to keep the good times going if you are.” 

“You sure?”

“I insist! Besides, between the three of us, I think we can find some ways to entertain ourselves." The implication in your words couldn't be clearer. You were in and you were ready. 

“I’ll grab that bottle from the cellar. Take Michael outside and make him comfortable, princess. Show him a good time while I’m gone.”

And with that, he turned your vibrator back on. He chose the second setting, which was just distracting enough to make the simple tasks of walking, talking and speaking exponentially harder for you. 

“Yes sir.” 

You forced your feet toward the giant sliding glass doors that led to your expansive backyard. You glanced behind you to find Michael jogging up behind you as he slid something into his pocket.

You tried to distract yourself from the pulses against your g-spot, the growing tension in your belly as pleasure started to build ever so slowly, by turning on the soft string lights hanging above your patio and the speakers to play music. 

“Yall got a great view.” 

“It was definitely the selling point of the house,” you smiled, awkwardly standing behind one of the chairs across from the couch.

His stance was wide, powerful and assured as he stared at you. 

“You gonna sit with me?” When you didn’t move, he sighed. “He said you were obedient. But maybe you just need an incentive…” 

Your knees almost gave out beneath you as he increased the setting to five. 

“If you wanna feel better, I think you should sit, baby girl,” he offered, his voice low and comforting. “I don’t bite, promise.”

The menacing glint in his eyes let you know that he most certainly would bite if asked. And you would most certainly ask. 

“S-sorry,” you awkwardly, quickly finding your way to the couch next to him. You started to sit when he beckoned you closer with a mere gesture of his finger. By the time he had you where he wanted you, you were sitting on his lap. 

You leaned into his chest, your eyes falling closed as pleasure shot through you with every pulsing vibration. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid moaning. 

“You ok, Y/N? Seem a little flustered?” His fingers created flames all across your bare thigh as he subtly pushed up the fabric of your dress. 

There was still something… tamed about how he touched you and caressed you. He came so close to the spots that demanded a firm strong hand, he held back every time. Like right now. Drawing featherlike patterns on your exposed side, toying with the edges of your thong but not shifting them to the side like you craved. 

No, he simply savored the time teasing you, enjoying the soft moans his touch and the bullet caused. 

“I’... I’m… fine, t-thank you,” you whispered back. “Just… o-overwhelmed.” 

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” his husky voice demanded in your ear. At the sound, you couldn't suppress the moan of pleasure that escaped your lips. You rolled your hips, chasing more.

“Y-Yes…” you whimpered. “P-Please…” 

“How’s my girl treating you, Michael?” Aaron’s voice interrupted their moment, his eyes piercing with desire as you writhed and rode another man's thigh. You looked perfect, unrestrained and free. 

“Oh she’s perfect. You got a great girl here, A.”

“I know… she is. But she disobeyed me earlier so before she can cum, we have to punish her. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

“Y-yes sir.” You didn’t even know what you did wrong but you weren’t going to argue or push back on him. Because this was already like entering a promised land of bliss. To hear him speak so openly about your punishment to another man while he masturbated you on his lap? Aaron was right. This was the destressor you really required. 

“Can you tell Michael and daddy what you did wrong, princess?” 

You raked your brain, knowing that “I don’t know” would only increase your punishment. Not that you would have particularly minded. Frequent punishments were simply the norm for a proud and loud brat. 

And then it hit you, such a small and silly infraction that Michael’s fingers were currently playing with. 

“I… w-wore my panties w-when I wasn’t allowed,” you answered. 

“That’s right. And we don’t cover up daddy’s prize, do we?” 

“No… daddy.” 

“You want to be a good girl for Michael and I… don’t you?”  

His voice was hypnotic. Despite the pleasure disobeying him brought, you could not help but want to please him, to be his good girl again. 

“Y-yes, daddy.” 

“And good girls deserve what?” 

“Punishment before pleasure.” 

“That’s right, baby. So tonight, Michael’s gonna have the honor. How many spankings you think our slut deserves?” 

“I’d say 25… 30?” 

“30 feels fair. What do you think, princess?” 

“Wh-whatever daddy wants,” you whimpered. That was the only acceptable response. Besides, you knew Aaron knew your limits and wouldn’t let Michael cross them.  “That's right, baby girl. She can be good when she wants to, just needs remindin’ of her place sometimes,” he mused. And with that, Michael turned off the bullet, a groan of pure frustration escaping your lips.

Punishment before pleasure, you reminded yourself. Why can’t my punishment be sucking their dicks or something?? 

Michael helped you up, your legs feeling slightly weak after they robbed you of your orgasm. They didn’t bother trying to carry you up the stairs, Michael merely directed you to your deep forest green sectional in the living room and leaned you over one of its arms. He slid off his belt and tied your hands behind your back, ensuring they were loose enough to avoid injury but tight enough not to escape without effort. 

You were deliciously helpless. 

“Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sight,” you could hear Michael mutter as the two men merely stared at you, boobs pressed out due to your hands being bound, your ass high in the air from being bent over. “Her ass is perfect, man.”

“It’ll look even better when you’re done. Don’t hold back. She loves that shit and she knows our safe word.” 

You were glad he assured Michael that you would adore the sweet sting of his palm. You encouraged Aaron to put his entire weight into your spankings when you took on the role as his princess. Forever a gentle soul at his core, he did not like the idea of causing you real, significant pain, preferring to lean heavily into other aspects of dominating you. 

It certainly made you fall more in love with him, witnessing his gentleness and concern for your well-being to such a degree. You supposed it was the greenest of flags that it took about 10 long discussions for him to feel comfortable. And even years later, he still checked in throughout to make sure you still enjoyed it. You weren’t a masochist by any means spankings in particular were more than enticing to you. It left you drenched and on the cusp on an orgasm without Aaron doing anything else. 

Even more so right now with your ass presented to the two men like a hard-earned prize. You subconsciously stuck your ass out further in search of something. A touch, a slap… literally anything. Your body was reeling. 

And you did not even care who was behind you to give you what you needed.

“She’s fuckin’ desperate for it.” 

“Yea, she’ll be begging you for it in a minute. I mean I was gone for what? 5 minutes, princess? And I come back and you're humpin' his leg like a filthy whore? And you loved it didn't you? Wanted more? I bet you wanna beg him to tear that ass up right now, don't you?” 

Daddy knows me too well. Because the word please was on the cusp of your lips, begging to tumble over like water on a cliff. 

You moaned as two hands gripped the firm meat of your ass, kneading and caressing you before they found the helm of your dress. You knew exactly whose hands they were, confirming that Aaron was indeed giving Michael the pleasure of administering your punishment. 

His fingers pushed your dress up the rest of the way to expose your ass cheeks, an unmistakable wet spot at the center of your thong. 

“Don’t think she’ll be needing this anymore. Whatchu think?” Michael asked Aaron as his finger hooked the delicate fabric around her hips. 

“Nahhh, definitely not.” 

“FUCK!” You cried out as your thong was unceremoniously ripped clean from your body, the fabric leaving welts on your skin. 

You felt his fingers graze your lips.

“All this for us, kitten?” 

You merely whimpered an affirmative answer as he presented his fingers covered in your juices. He stuck them in your mouth, you sucking your cum clean off his fingers.

"Can't wait to make you cum all over my tongue, kitten. You taste so fuckin' good."

“P-Please…” You thought you’d implode if you continued to suppress your desperation. Your body felt as if you were betraying her. Why weren’t you trying hard enough, begging loud enough to earn the pleasure you were being deprived of. 

“See?” 

“You weren’t lyin’. Tell me what you want, kitten”  

He’s gonna make me say it?? 

The words were caught in your throat, blocked by a mental barrier to admit such a depraved thought out loud. 

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I suggest you say that shit. Cause we got all night.” 

The lethal warning in his tone forced your thighs together, an electric shock through your body. He was a natural. And the dominance in his voice was all it took to rip the weeds of hesitation right out of your soil. 

“S-spank me… please,” Half words, half sobs filled the quiet air. This was untenable. Could you die from this? It felt like you might die from this. “I n-need it. P-Punish me… please.” 

The first vicious sting of his hand did make a real sob of joy escape, the sound reverberating through the living room. 

You buried your face in the couch cushion for the first few in a foolish attempt to quiet your mounting screams of pain wrapped in the sweet pleasure. His brute strength ensured you felt the ache of every hit. On par with Aaron when your punishments were severe. You were still feeling it days later. 

Your head pulled back, his fist wrapped around your curls.

“Do that again and I add five. Understand?” 

“Y-yes, yes. I’m sorry,” you moan, keeping your eyes forward and head up. 

You felt familiar hands cradle your head, Michael releasing your strains to play with your slick folds in between each blow. 

Aaron’s body came into view as he held your chin, forcing you to stare into his beautiful eyes. Clouded with lust, you still could see every ounce of his love and devotion. 

“You ok, precious?” he whispered. “Got 10 more.” 

“M-More.”

“You’re such a good slut for me, baby. I love you.” His eyes softened a bit. “You want a treat while Michael gives you your punishment? I wouldn’t usually but tonight is all about you, princess.” 

You licked your lips, the sudden sparkle in your eyes answering his question without words. You were impatient at the pace he went to unbutton his pants. 

He knew how much you loved sucking dick. Genuinely loved it. On more than one occasion, you came home after a long day and immediately dropped to your knees to serve him unprompted. Of course, it always ended up leading to him giving you back the same pleasure tenfold. So it was a win all around. 

You licked the beads of precum from his head before enveloping him into your mouth, moaning around him just as Michael rained down the last of your punishment. 

Fire. Your skin felt hot and inflamed with every bite of his palm against your skin. And they sent jolts of lust straight to your clit. 

“You’re taking your punishment so well. You’re not gonna disobey me again, are you?” 

Strings of your spit stayed connected to his dick as he pulled back so you could answer him. 

“Never again, daddy!”  

“That’s my good girl. You took that so well. Didn’t she?” 

You hissed as he gently massaged your hot skin. Fuck, why did his hands feel so good? 

“She did. You think she’s ready, A?” 

“I think she is.” 

You found a secret joy in the way they spoke only to you to dole out orders, but then talked about you to each other like you were merely a piece of furniture.

Aaron scooped you up in his arms, your body immediately nestling into his chest as he carried you to your master suite. He tossed you on the bed like a rag doll as Michael closed the door to your suite. And for a few moments, they simply stood there. Towering over you, intoxicated by the power and anticipation, they didn’t speak or move. They just watched you squirm beneath them. 

“You know I love you right?�� Aaron broke character for a single moment. 

“Of course.” 

“Good. Cause it ain’t gon' seem like it for a minute. You know how daddy wants you.” 

Fuck. Yes. 

There was a challenging grin on your face as you removed the last obstacle to their conquest, leaving you bare before them. With great pleasure, you shifted onto your hands and knees and sank into position. Presenting yourself to him. Vulnerable, exposed. To two apex predators. 

And you were ready to be devoured. 

Michael pounced with such swiftness of jaguar indeed, you suddenly finding yourself straddling his hips. His punishing grip around your lower back kept you flush to his chest as his lips claimed yours. 

Frenzied, animalistic, downright sloppy kisses as you two gave into your most base desires. There was no love here, just lust in its most instinctual level. You two fought for dominance in your kisses, you mainly showing him that you were no damsel.

He moved you with ease, like you were a feather, turning you so your head dangled off the edge of the bed.

“I think our kitten needs a bit of attention.” 

His lips kissed a burning trail down your body, veering off course to engulf each of your nipples in his wet mouth, while his hand played with your throbbing clit. 

You whined, feeling his breath against your sex, his grip holding your hips firmly to the bed to stop you from getting any more pleasure than he decided. 

“So eager.” 

He licked up the wetness that spread to your thighs, still avoiding touching you there. He was a menace. The devil really.

You screamed as he wrapped his lips around your bud, every nerve ending in your body zeroed in on him.  

Aaron guided your agape mouth onto his hard member again, your tongue licking him like he was your favorite lollipop. He exchanged the bullet for his fingers, easing a second one inside your pussy. 

Your litany of curse words were indecipherable with Aaron’s mouth ramming down your throat. He did not let you control the pace one bit. Your mouth was merely a means to an end for him. 

You gagged, tears streaming down your face from the sensory overload of having them work in tandem to bring you pain, pleasure, and everything in between.

You arrived at the cliffs of pleasure far faster than you expected, your body ready to fall for the first time all night. Your thighs tightened around Michael’s head as you tried to control it. Foolish it sounded, to stop the fall. But you couldn’t tumble just yet. 

You didn’t stop your task of sucking to ask. Instead, you simply stared up at him with plea-filled round eyes.

“Cum on his tongue, princess. Cum for daddy.” 

You dove off the cliff with earnest as Michael chose that moment to add a fourth finger, finger fucking you with relentless speed.You let your eyes fall close and surrendered to the crashing waves and thrilling currents that pulled you into oblivion. Right where you wanted to be. 

Only Aaron could find the cherry on top to this already perfect sundae as he spilled down your throat. It was typically reserved for her treat as he knew you adored swallowing. And you were grateful he found you deserving. 

Aaron took a step back, you pouting at the loss of his dick in your mouth.

“Don’t worry, princess. Won’t be your last taste for the night.” He leaned down and kissed you deeply, a soft whimper escaping at how familiar his lips felt. Home. “I think you need to thank Michael for punishing you earlier and making you cum. How do good whores say thank you?” 

"On their knees, daddy."

You moved off the bed and onto the carpet, Michael already sliding off his boxers. Your voice hitched as his girthy thick member sprang from his boxers.

He smirked told her he knew what he was wielding and how to use it well. Admittedly, you had only had sex with three men in your life, two of whom were present. But you felt confident in saying these two Gods among lesser men had the most impressive dicks you’d ever seen. 

You’d never live down the humiliation of your near panic attack during you and Aaron’s first time. 

“I don’t think you’ll fit,” you remember muttering before trying to escape to hide in his bathroom, your brain overloaded with the fear that he would somehow break you. 

But like the perfect gentlemen he was, he held you close and calmed you with sweet kisses and talked you through every inch as he sank into you for the first time. He naturally reached regions you thought were anatomically impossible. You often referred to it as his weapon, one that left you utterly immobile too often. 

Michael was similarly blessed and highly favored. Though he lacked a bit of Aaron’s length, his had a girth to it that you knew would cause a stinging stretch. It would be different and you liked the idea of that. As much as your body wanted to skip to that part, you also were feral for a taste of him. 

Aaron sat in the arm chair across the room, the perfect view to watch as Michael slid his dick between your plump lips. He stroked his dick back to life watching you spit and gulp down his dick.

“That’s right. Fuckkkk. Get it sloppy, baby girl. Fuck your throat feels good.” 

Your body glowed at his praise, Aaron grinning to himself. He adored seeing you in this light, gaining a new perspective to how you felt freedom and pleasure. He never wanted to stop learning how to love you better, please you better. 

Inexplicable pride swelled when your eyes connected with him, your dilated pupils lighting up at his smile.

“You ready for me to fuck that pussy, kitten?” Michael demanded, punctuating each word with a deep thrust into the back of your throat. Attempting to respond was a foolish endeavor with him balls deep down your throat. 

He pulled out of your mouth and lifted you up to your feet, immediately moving you into his desired position. He bent you over the edge of the bed, one hand glued to your hip while the other pushed your head into the mattress. He positioned you so you were staring right at Aaron.  

Being watched. New kink unlocked. You were an actress on display and he was your director, in full control. And it was time to watch his masterpiece. 

Your eyes fluttered out of enticing humiliation and bliss as Michael’s head bounced against your pulsing clit. 

“Eyes open, princess. And on me."

And this was a moment that made you question who you truly were. A good girl or a disobedient slut? The devil on your shoulder didn’t need deliberation time. You were a disobedient whore. You wanted to be utterly spent when this night was over. 

But you also knew he knew that, which is why he picked a task he knew you’d fail either way. You could try as hard as you wanted, it would be impossible to maintain eye contact. 

“You ready for Michael to fuck you, princess?” 

“Yesssss! Fuck me… I need it.” It was as critical to your survival as air. 

You immediately failed at your task, your eyes clenching shut as he pushed inside of you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you hissed, begging for the moment when the lightening flash of pain subsided and pleasure took root. 

“Fuckin’ tight ass pussy on you, kitten,” he gave you a few moments to adjust. When your expletives turned into quiet moans, he moved. 

"Won't tell you this shit again, princess. Eyes open and on me or I start spankin’ you when it’s my turn. And you ain’t gon’ like that shit.” 

“Sorryyyy, dadddyyyyy.” 

His hips snapped viciously into you, his dick curving into your g-spot with every thrust. 

Bliss. 

Joy. 

You panted as  he fucked you with relentless precision, he didn’t let a moment go to waste as he fucked you. His grip along your hip was bruising as he pushed and pulled against your body. Never the lazy lover, you met every thrust, using your arms as leverage to throw your fat ass back at him. 

“That’s it! Take this dick, slut! You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??” he demanded, a hard smack coming down on your still aching ass when you didn’t answer fast enough. 

There was no way he actually believed you could form coherent thoughts right now. 

“I… love it! D-... don’t stop! Fuck… I’m gonna cum!” Your eyes had not stayed on your master as they should’ve, nor had you even tried that hard. But you deliberately cast them on him to beg for permission. “C-Can I cum daddy?? He feels so gooddddd…” 

“Why the fuck would I let you cum? You disobedient whore? Can’t follow simple fuckin’ instructions. 

Well shit. He was pissed. 

Your face was one of sadness at upsetting your daddy but everything inside was filled to the brim with glee. You weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow. And then you could look forward to a day of aftercare and pampering from your love. 

“P-please, please. I-I’m sorry!! I tried. I-I can’t…” Michael was not helping your cause as you pleaded your case in front of a less than sympathetic judge. He found some superhuman ability to increase his already punishing pace, jackhammering into your g-spot. “Let me cum, pleasseeeee! I can’t hold it.” 

“She’s clenchin’ on my dick, brah.” 

You were going to cum either way, inevitably, but you were holding strong for those magic words. Moments before you felt yourself starting to break, you finally heard him.

“Cum for me.” 

“She’s creamin’ on this dick. This some good pussy, my man! You one lucky nigga.” He didn’t slow his pace as he fucked you through your second orgasm. "That's right, cum all over this dick, baby."

How were you not spent yet? No, you still wanted so much more. 

You lost track of your orgasms as Michael moved you into his desired positions, fucking you every type of way that suited him. And all the while, Aaron just watched, commanding your eyes to him in the moments leading up to your orgasms, forcing you to hold his gaze across the dark room. 

You thought the Earth had reversed on its axis somehow. 

“I’ll let you decide where you want it, kitten. On you or down your throat.” 

“Cum on my ass!” 

“Whatever baby girl wants.” He pulled out of you and sprayed your back and ass cheeks with his seed. You sighed out of contentment as you laid there, knowing your night was far from over. But you were grateful for the brief reprieve. 

Michael shifted off to the side as Aaron rejoined you, the Brit studying your ass painted in another man’s cum. If there was a way be any harder than he already was, he would be it right now. 

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, princess. I love you so much, you’re such a good girl for me. You ready for daddy, now?” 

You nodded enthusiastically. Michael was amazing but no one fucked you quite like Aaron. Those were the simple facts. 

“Good girl,” he flipped you and pushed your legs up so your knees were essentially up at your ears. 

This was a frankly evil thing to do, to start with this position. It was simplistic but he would pound you so deep, you saw fucking stars. At this rate, you would be tapping out far earlier than you would have hoped. 

“Ahhhh! Yessssss… thank you daddy! Love your dick, daddy!” You screamed as he entered you in one fluid motion, ending deep in your guts. 

“You take me so well, baby. You like how deep I’m fuckin’ this pussy?” 

“Yes, yes! Shit! God I love it! Oh Goddddd, fuck, baby…” 

“Ain’t no God to call out to here, princess. Just your masters.”

You gasped at the sudden all consuming emptiness of him exiting you. You felt his hand catch your ankle, which was still in the air where he left you. He dragged you to the edge of the bed and lifted you to your feet. You almost collapsed on your stiff legs but you quickly realized, he was not intending for you to support your own weight long. 

He hinged you at the waist, your fingertips supporting balancing some of your weight until he reentered you and regained control of your hips. He did all the work, holding all your weight with his strength as he fucked you straight into a sweet abyss. Nothing else mattered. Just the two of you. 

Well… three of you. Speaking of which… as if Aaron could read her mind, he says, “Suck him like the whore I know you are.” 

Using his strength to turn you both so you were eye level with Michael’s dick. He was getting hard, rested and ready for round two with ease. Both men looked as if they could do this all night while you knew you looked like you had been fucked just as good as you felt. 

You surrendered your mouth to Michael, allowing the actor to face fuck you to his heart’s content. And you simply enjoyed every moment of them fucking your holes like men possessed. No breaks, no time for breaths. Nothing. Just unforgiving feral fucking. 

You didn’t bother counting the orgasms they gave you as the two men traded places multiple times, using your mouth and pussy to their heart’s content. They worked up a perfect rhythm that brought you thrilling moment after thrilling moment  

“Don’t run, fuckin’ whore! You been takin’ it all night. Came in here with that fuckin' attitude. Take this dick!” Aaron ordered as you shied away from his forceful thrusts as he fucked you doggy style. 

Your body was being driven past overload as they stimulated every part of you. You could barely concentrate on Michael’s dick in front of your face with how Aaron was fucking you, clearly getting the last word of the evening. 

You thought you knew what overstimulation felt like but you had no fucking idea until today. But you knew the orgasm you were building toward would be your best yet, would be worth every moment of this. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum!” Michael called out. 

“I’m close too. Daddy’s gonna cum in this sweet pussy, baby. But first, your other punishment. Cum as much as you want.” 

And with that, he and Michael went utterly and completely feral on your body, chasing one goal: their collective simultaneous pleasure. 

Michael grunted as he painted your face in his cum, much of it landing in your open mouth. He collapsed on the bed next to you, your body immediately crumbling forward without him holding you up. He caressed your skin as Aaron mercilessly fucked you, matching every thrust of his hips forward with a harsh slap to your ass. You knew you would have to endure as many as it took for him to cum.

Shit. You really fucked up.

You screamed and squealed, Michael roughly making out with you and sucked and bit your titties as if you needed more. You and Aaron reached the peaks of your mountains at the same time. At the warmth of him filling your pussy, white blanketed in your vision and sent you free falling into a new stratosphere.

Time felt inconceivable when you opened your eyes again. In your mind, no time had passed but instead of being on the bed, you were surrounded by warmth. Warm water lapped over your aching muscles, something hard propping you up from behind. 

“What’s…” you started to say, trying to lift up when a muscular arm snaked around your chest to hold you flush to him. 

“Relax, relax, princess. You’re good. Take a breath. Just blacked on us for a minute.” 

His voice calmed all the uneasy waters of your soul, you were safe and home with him. There was no better place to be in this life or the next. 

“Where’s… our guest?” Your voice cracked from the overuse of your throat. You rubbed your neck instinctively. 

“I’ll make you some tea when we get out,” he kissed your temple. “And he passed out in one of the guest rooms. I may have told him there was a strong possibility you’d be up for another round in an hour or two. Told me to get him when you finish soakin’ so he can give you a massage.” 

And you knew exactly where the yellow brick road of a massage would lead: to the Emerald Fucking City of Round 4.  

Your libido was just as high, if not higher than Aaron’s. More than once, it had been you demanding rounds 4-6 after he already wore you out during 1-3.

“One day you’re gonna get it wrong, you know?” you tease, allowing your head and back to rest with ease onto his chest. His hands massaged your hips and thighs and breasts, all sore from their spanking and biting. “That feels soooo good. You got the magic touch, baby.” 

  You ok, love? We were rough on you.” 

“More than ok. That was the most… insane and fun thing I’ve ever done. Exactly what I needed and wanted. Thank you, Aaron.” 

“Anything for you, princess. Rest for me, love.” 

You allowed your eyes to flutter closed again, dozing in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms as he continued releasing knots from your muscles. You simply laid there with him, savoring him and the afterglow of being his. 

However, after about 15 minutes, you had rested long enough. This night would end eventually, you wanted to make the most of it with your two daddies. 

“Daddy… I think I’m ready for that massage now,” your eyes glistened with your true intentions, letting Aaron know that you were no close to done. 

He let out a low chuckle of disbelief. “You really are one of a kind, Y/N.” 

“I know,” you winked at him with a playful grin. “Now massage, please.,” you demanded like the spoiled brat you were.

Aaron got out of the bath first, his entire body glistening with water on every perfect panel of muscle and taunt skin. Was it nice being a bead of water sliding down that skin? It might be nice to be a bead of water on his skin. 

He quickly toweled himself off before helping you up, using his arms around you as your legs shook. 

He dried you before laying you back down on the bed, disappearing down the hall while you laid on your stomach and simply waited. 

“Well well well… couldn’t get enough could you, kitten?” 

You heard them before you saw them. 

“No sir.” 

“She’s insatiable. Makes her a good little whore for me, doesn’t it, princess?”

You felt their weight on both sides of the bed. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whined as their fingers started doing the Lord’s work massaging out every knot and kink buried in your limbs. 

You turned your head toward Aaron, reaching up and kissing him softly as a private thank you before laying down again. You closed your eyes and let them work, let them take care of you. 

Whoever said “three’s a crowd” clearly hadn’t met these two.

Tag list: @hxneyclouds @planetblaque @slutsareteacherstoo @theereina @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @apenasumlug4r @motheroffae @blackerthings @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @melaninpov @hiwasteland @yamst3rdamctrl @miyuhpapayuh @dxddykenn @sageispunk @atribecalledqwest @4pfsukuna @beenathembo @throwmymbackout @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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A/N: Hoped you enjoyed that as much as I did! Thanks for reading!

[eupheme]

— common ground [into the fire, part iii]

part i | part ii | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death

a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)

"Fuck!”

You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.

This wasn't what you had in mind.

You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.

The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.

He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.

"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."

You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.

A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.

"What?" He asks, at your expression.

"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.

It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.

A shrug, "They shot first."

"You goaded them."

You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.

"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"

"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."

He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."

A second, before he steps away.

"These weren't those kind of people."

You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.

Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.

The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.

Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.

Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.

You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.

There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.  

Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.

You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.

"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.

There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.

It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.

"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.

"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."

"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.

Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.

“Said you need water?”

"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."

"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."

The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.

“Where’d you learn to do this?”

It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.

“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”

People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.

You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.

That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.

“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”

“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”

The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.

“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.

“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”

It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.

The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.

A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.

You think he does rest - a rarity.

You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.

Taking the rare chance to do it freely.

In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.

But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.

His presence feels the same.

A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.

It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.

If you got close enough-

Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?

You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.

In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.

What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.

Liquid gold, in comparison.

“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.

Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.

The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.

“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”

The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.

“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”

Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.

“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”

He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.

Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.

Would he let you touch him?

He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.

“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”

That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.

They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.

Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -

“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.

You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.

Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.

Maybe you still could.

“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”

A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.

Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.

“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”

The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.

“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”

The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.

Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.

Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.

Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.

“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.

You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.

Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.

You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.

“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.

“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”

It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.

He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin. Flexing up and into you, letting you feel the hard ridge of him.

“This what you want, sweetheart?”

Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.

“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”

A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.

Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.

The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.

Letting himself watch.

“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.

“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”

Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.

Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.

It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.

“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.

Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.

As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.

See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.

“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”

Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.

It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.

You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.

“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.

Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.

“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”

Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.

Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.

Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.

“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”

It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.

“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”

Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.

Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.

The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.

Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.

Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.

Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.

It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.

He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.

Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.

Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.

A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.

You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.

His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.

A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.

Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.

A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.

Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.

You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.

Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.

Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.

“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.

“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”

You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.

The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.

It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.

You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.

A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.

It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.

That maybe you could clean it up.

That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.

It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.

A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles. 

His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.

The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.

Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.

It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.

And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.

save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)

[jayrockin]

Avian Homeplanet

Star: F-class (yellow white) Vegetation: blue and black Axial tilt: 11 degrees Gravity: 1.12 g Position from star: fourth

Over 90% ocean and blasted by the light of an intense star, the avian homeplanet is prone to hot, humid weather and enormous monsoon storms. In spite of this, the planet’s very slight axial tilt gives its poles a coating of year-round sea ice, whose sifting, dune-like surface plays host to a strange variety of slow growing plants and hardy animals. On solid land, the dominant photosynthetic life is a clade of “plants” ranging from dark blue to cerulean, and a clade of sessile tube-dwelling “landworms” with black flesh and frond-like appendages. Their dark colors selectively absorb and reflect the harsh, high-UV light of the sun.

The crust of the planet also has an usually large amount of the element cobalt. It compromises over 5% of the planet’s crust, comparable to iron on Earth. Cobalt compounds generally have a much higher solubility in water than iron compounds, though, and the avian oceans are stained a purplish red from huge amounts of dissolved cobalt nitrate, cobalt chloride, and cobalt carbonate. Mineral veins of cobalt compounds can be found commonly in the planet’s rocks, forming streaks of red, blue, black, green, and sometimes yellow depending on composition. Sand and soil are sometimes stained purple and blue by cobalt salts, as well.

The clade of avians has a difficult evolutionary history to track, given the limited amount of dry land and intense development over the past thousand years. The current theory is that a flying sophont ancestor originated on the planet’s largest landmass, an Australia-sized continent, and radiated outwards to evolve into the 5 extant species of avians.

In modern history, avians have often run into space issues developing their societies, and metal as a resource has been at the center of some particularly bitter wars. Most land on the homeplanet is currently colonized by the Dominion of Tiiliit, and now in the space age, imported metal and helium is being used to add new land in the form of artificial islands and floating cities.

Avians tend to use simple, writable icons to represent their nations. Though traditionally, the Hotsuuv nations use local cultivated varieties of seal fruit as icons, and the mineral rich south pole uses dots of pigment.

Map art rendered in Photopea by the stellar @cmaidaartworkblog! Edited in CSP by me.

PATREON | Runaway to the Stars

[fanaticsnail]

Cross-Guild Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist Here

Art link

Buggy D. Clown:

You Kissed the Clown? (15/15 Series)

An upper-class tinkerer finds herself amongst the crew of the Staw-Hat pirates. Falling within the blast of a giant flash of red smoke and captured with her crew in the claws of the Buggy Pirates; she is confronted by her flight, fight and freeze response. Immediately, she finds another way of distracting the infamous clown-captain: a passionate and disarming kiss. As time and distance fall between them, feelings of romance, infatuation, fascination and longing cling to the clown and the tinkerer in each other's absence. How could they feel so deeply for each other; they only shared one single kiss?

Happy Birthday, Pumpkin (one-shot)

Buggy longs to kiss you but always shies away in case his affection is not reciprocated. Finally, an opportunity presents itself for a consequence-free kiss and he can barely hold himself back in anticipation. Happy birthday!

I Can't Do This Without You (one-shot)(smut)

Buggy attempted to use some unusual, waxy pollen to form into a "buggy-ball". He was an idiot. He can't manage the consequences without his loyal and ever faithful crewmate to help him out.

A Small Kindness (Smut One-Shot)

A blue-haired man with a round red nose is down on his luck. He's lost everything, not a single berry to his name after being defeated again by the straw-hat crew. A small kindness from a stranger propels him to get back on his feet. How could he repay you? Surely you needed something in return.

Headcanons & Drabbles:

Soft-Dom BuggyBratty BuggyCross-Guild InterrogationThe Clown Apologises

Buggy x Reader x Mihawk:

Swing, Sway, Shag, Smimmy (Buggy x Reader x Mihawk) (4/4)

Buggy is infatuated with his prized acrobat. He issues a dance night-off for his pirate crew, choosing to "make a move" in the hopes of charming his beautiful acrobat under the hawk-like gaze of his guest of honour. Unbeknownst to Buggy, the feeling of infatuation is mutual regarding the acrobat. Can they learn to 'play nice' to woo the acrobat? Yes, yes they can.

Dracule Mihawk:

The Apprentice (6/7 Series)

Mihawk is a bitchy boss, the apprentice is his bratty underling. Professionalism, sword-mastery and affiliation for wine consumption drives their relationship.Mihawk pushed his apprentice a little too far, prompting her to submit a formal resignation effective immediately. Calling her bluff, he attempts to chaperone her towards a cellar door to begin an afternoon of wine-tasting, only to find absence at his side as his apprentice simply walked away from him. And he was angry about it.Ongoing series.

You Should Be Sad (Completed Series):

Upon rising to the title of Warlord and Worlds-Greatest-Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk began to neglect his fiancé and her desires. Unable to provide her with the one thing she truly longed for, he remained apathetic as she broke from their lengthy courtship.A decade later, and many a bottle of brandy relinquished, he drifts to Baratie in hopes of drowning away the memory of her: only to have his hopes shattered as the hired band begins to play with his ex-fiancé singing her vengeance at him.

Let Me Take Care of You (one-shot)

The personal assistant to Dracule Mihawk notices he is not quite acting himself: a small wince as he reaches for his breakfast wine glass, a grimace as he draws it to his lips and the narrowing of his eyes as he begins to slouch. Luckily for the both of them, the assistant has a resume of many a skill: remedial massage being the key element provided to the broody warlord. He reluctantly accepts their touch, longing for the burden to be released from his shoulders.

El Tango de Mihawk (one-shot)

A talented thief manages to obtain an invite to the marine ball and decides to utilize it as a great opportunity to steal from the wealthiest members of the world government. Mihawk immediately recognizes them and decides to toy with their scheming, tango dancing ensues.

The Marine's Mistake (request) (one-shot)

Something horrible occurred to rid the warlord of his signature facial hair. Cadets had gathered and began whispering in hushed tones as Garp held a seated meeting with the warlord at a table in a run of the mill tavern. A new transfer does not recognize the sleek cheeks of the handsome gentlemen and immediately decides to approach to flirtatiously engage him over a drink or two. Mihawk is amused.

My Love Mine All Mine (request) (one-shot)

Mihawk returns to his castle in kuraigana nine days after he was due to return. He finds his lover sleeping in his bed, face falling to rest atop his pillow. Soft drabble, pining, longing.

Hanahaki: The Hawk and the Fledgling (request) (one-shot) Part 2

Mihawk notices his Fledgling, an apprentice he took under his wing, has become lazy in their training. Upon one final vocal reprimand, they collapse; sputtering a cocktail of saliva, blood and... petals? Is that petals in their hand? Surely not.

The Spear and the Sword (request) (one shot)

Drabble Part 2

Mihawk is required by Vice-Admiral Garp to obliterate an approaching armada of barbaric pillagers from their attack on a marine base. As this army was not enough for him to handle alone, Garp calls in another warlord, a ferocious warrior-woman armed with a spear, to aid in his ability to complete this task with as much succession as possible with as little damage done to the defenseless base. Both begin their armed ascension, showcasing their abilities in contest to see how many troops they best by the end of battle, against how many injuries they themselves acquire in the thralls of combat.

Little Sparrow (one-shot: drabble)

Mihawk has been up with your daughter, soothing her as she experiences her leap weeks. You spend some moments with your husband as he holds her in his arms.

Sapsorrow: (9/10 Series)

Upon receiving an invitation from the lord of Kuraigana to train his wards, you never expected your career as a governess to lead you here. As your tour of the keep was conducted, a ring was slipped onto your finger: invoking an ancient curse you truly did not understand. Setting three conditions for marriage, your newly betrothed immediately made haste to complete them with you blissfully ignorant that his life hung in the balance should be fail his task.

Macule Drihawk (drabble)

When Dracule Mihawk drinks, he becomes an entirely different person. That person's name is Macule Drihawk.

Pretty Bird (series)

Mihawk is an injured avarial trapped in his raven form while healing. You nurse him back to health, and he becomes smitten with you.

Obsession (one-shot)

Many believe Mihawk keeps the knowledge of his spouse a secret because he is a private man. Truth of it is, he is simply obsessed with you and doesn't believe any other pair of eyes is worthy of meeting their gaze with your majesty.

Happy Trail (mini fic)

Mihawk is not as well groomed as he usually keeps himself. You notice, and you can't help yourself.

Sir Crocodile:

My Favorite (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Sir Crocodile has founded a league of highly trained assassins named "The Choirs" - all coded after the nine choirs of angelic influences. You are his favorite: his prized "Seraphim" who's ferocious brutality is only outmatched by your incredible beauty. Not truly knowing if your affection is all an act to continue being paid a wage in berry, he has not made a move of his own aside from calling upon you to sit on his knee of an evening, and have you utter praises into his ear. It is only when the two other members of the Cross-Guild begin flirting does he find his limit being tested. Will he bend, or will he break?

Sands of Time: Intentions of Series

Sir Crocodile thought he was safe from the intentions of the haunting Sapsorrow Queen. His soul has been laid claim, his time is running out. How can he have a stranger fall in love with his within the year? Would she truly take his sould should he fail?

When We Wake (one-shot)

Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.

The Duality of Sir Crocodile (NSFW drabble)

The duality of a dominating gentleman. Spoiling and endearing, encumbering and brutal.

Warmth (One-Shot)

Misc Multiples:

Sir Crocodile is out for a walk in Arabasta with his pug, and he is stopped by a curious child who desires to pet them. As you, their guardian, approaches, Sir Crocodile is intrigued by your candor.

Intimacy (NSFW One-Shot)

Sir Crocodile is patient while you take him for the first time.

Get Well Soon (Drabble one-shot)

You're sick, and they do their best to support you through it. Zoro, Sanji, Mihawk

Please, I'll be good (one-shot)

After rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.

Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin

How They Kiss (drabble)

Four different kisses with all of your favourites. Where would you place them in these categories?

Hallmark Piggyback (drabble)

Short piggyback on @indydonuts post about OP characters in a hallmark movie. Drabble is for Law x reader x Mihawk - amnesia trope

You're Angry at the Tall Men: Drabble (One-Shot)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo.

An Affectionate Embrace: Drabble (One-Shot)

It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?Buggy, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Shanks, Benn Beckman

Forehead Kisses (short drabble)

You're being a brat because they're neglecting you. Prepare to be greeted with the forehead kiss you crave from them.

Zoro, Crocodile, Kid, Killer, Beckman, Mihawk

Interrogation (crack dialogue)

Cross-Guild crack dialogue x reader

Dreaming of You (One-Shot) NSFW

They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Dracule Mihawk

[ozarkthedog]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

summary: a carnival comes to town and the night takes an unexpected turn when you meet a strange man.

warnings: 18+ mdni. vampire!max philips x afab!reader. max being max. smut. biting. blood. memory wipe. reader is abled bodied. reader is not depicted in the moodboard. w.c. 1.6k

author's note: first time writing Max. be nice pls. thank you @ghotifishreads for letting me whine and helping me think through this fic. you’re a treasure.

-> for the summer lovin' challenge ~ carnival #4 - max philips - the quote "are you lost, my dear?" and the attached moodboard

thank you to @pedgito @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy for hosting this fun challenge!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬

"Are you lost, my dear?"

You spin on your feet when a smooth, self-assured voice calls your attention as you wait on the sidelines for the traveling circus to begin.

He's devastatingly handsome, with sparkling dark eyes and short brown hair; he looks out of his element in a crisp three-piece black suit with a red tie. He flashes sharp, pearly white teeth and cocks his head with a smirk.

"Not anymore." You quip.

"My name is Max." He extends a hand, and you mirror him, offering your name loud enough to hear over the cheery music blasting across the expansive tent.

"Come to the circus often?" Max asks, trailing his wild eyes shamelessly down your body. Usually, you'd be repulsed, but something about him called to you. If anything, you wanted to get to know him more.

"Actually, this is my first time." You confess.

His face twists with amusement. "Oh, a virgin. I love it."

"I never would've pegged you for a fan of the circus." Your eyes flick up and down his body.

"I actually work for the circus."

He laughs when one of your eyebrows shoots into your hairline. "It's true. Every circus needs a lawyer, just in case any incidents happen. So I travel around with them."

"Wow. I never would've thought."

He sends you yet another coy smirk. "I like keeping people on their toes. Besides, a circus is a great spot to meet new people."

"Oh yeah? Do you find yourself picking up people often?"

His gaze grows tight, and his eyes turn a faint black before he takes a slow, deep breath. "A few."

The lights flash a beat before slowly dimming, signaling the start of the show.

"Come with me. I know the best seat in the house. " He clasps his hand around yours and tugs you along behind him. You instinctively dig your feet into the ground, knowing in your heart it's not safe to wander off with a stranger, but Max turns on his heel and locks eyes with you.

"It's ok. You're safe with me."

Your resolve crumbles without a second thought, and you go willingly.

Energetic circus music blasts through large speakers as guests cheer and yell. Hidden animals roar from beyond the curtains as Max walks you, hand in hand, toward the performers-only section.

He leads you up a set of stairs and down a dimly lit hall before turning into a small, dark room with one wall made entirely of glass. It overlooks the large tent, giving you a bird' s-eye view of the circus stage.

You watch it in awe as the performers move seamlessly in their choreography and tumbling movements.

You're so caught up in all the action you momentarily forget about Max. You turn towards him, swiftly apologizing.

He brushes you off with a smile. "Don't be sorry. Enjoy yourself. I know I am." His gaze slowly travels down to your neck.

You turn back to watch the colorful sights when you feel Max step behind you. He leans his body against your back, pressing the sturdy length of him along your spine.

You suck in a sharp breath as a strong arm curls around your waist, and plush lips find the junction of your shoulder and neck. You shiver from the cold kisses that splay over your sensitive skin.

"M'm you smell good," he murmurs before licking a wet stripe up the curve of your neck. You squirm in his arms, making him hold you tighter as he grinds his growing length against your ass.

"Keep your eyes on the show," he directs, dragging his bottom lip along the curve of your ear. "Don't want you to miss a thing."

As the performers engage the audience with fire eating and

high stakes aerobatics, large hands travel down the length of your body, over your curves, before reaching under your skirt and settling between your legs.

Your belly cramps when he presses against your panties and rubs your folds hidden by the thin fabric.

As Max slips two fingers beneath the elastic and grazes your throbbing core with a brazen touch, a hushed moan slips from your throat. Your body instinctively arches toward his touch, greedy for more.

"Looks like someone enjoys being naughty with a stranger." Max purrs while teasing his fingers through your swollen folds and dragging out the slick that's dripping from your pussy.

You turn your head, desperate to feel his lips on yours, but he asks. "Eyes to the front. Don't make me punish you, Kitten."

The soft threat makes you mewl and grind against his fingers. Your cunt throbs under his touch, soaking his fingers, wishing he'd push them inside.

Suddenly, you feel a strong hand push against your upper back until your face and chest are splayed against the window. The lewd sound of sucking hits your ears, followed by a low, dark moan. "That pretty pussy is absolutely scrumptious." He groans, lapping at his soaked digits.  

Your heart pounds under your ribs as you're pressed flush against the glass. Anyone could look up and see Max doing whatever he wanted with you. The thought should horrify you, but instead, your fingers spread wide against the glass, and you push back against Max's growing length.

"'Atta girl." Max purrs. You hear a zipper and a rustling of cloth before he hooks his fingers beneath your panties and pulls them to the side.

The cool glass feels like heaven against your heated cheek as he taps the bulbous tip of his cock against your shiny folds. He feels huge.

"Are you a virgin?" He hesitates, voice hinting slight concern.

"No," You whisper, eyes flicking to the side to watch as he spits lewdly where you're almost connected. Some spittle lands on your cunt, making you jolt.

"Oh, shucks. Virgins always taste so sweet." He laments before his features turn on a dime and kisses his fingers like a chef. "Then again, that pussy did taste fucking delicious."

Just as your mind begins to melt from his words, he slowly tips his hips and sheathes his length inside of you in one long, unending push.

The stretch is tremendous. Your fingers claw at the glass as he molds you around his cock like a hand slipping inside a glove. Max hisses through his teeth at the pressure before slipping a hand around to rub gingerly at your clit.

"Come on, relax for me, Kitten. I want to fuck this pretty pussy. Get 'er meowing for me."

A half-broken laugh and moan tumble from your lips as a wave of arousal blossoms in your belly. Your cunt swallows his length until you feel wiry hairs leading down to his pelvis graze the soft cheeks of your ass.

"atta girl."

Greedy hands encase your hips as he sets a steady pace, sawing his girth in and out, leaving you gasping and choking on your own moans.

Your body writhes under his touch. His balls smack thwap against your clit on every punishing drive as glistening slick drips from your weeping core, staining your inner thighs as you shove against the glass, meeting each demanding thrust.

"I found quite the meal ticket tonight," the shameless moan ends in a growl.

You're too blissed to comprehend whether that's a compliment as he splits you in half, pushing you further up the glass and closer to the impending orgasm you can feel lingering deep inside your cunt.

Max splays his body over yours; his broad shoulders encompass yours so entirely that you can't help but feel an odd sense of dread come over you.

"Oh, I've got that pussy right where I want 'er," He hisses, jaw clenching as your velvet walls quiver, greedily trying to milk his balls. His lips find your neck, slotting hurried kisses along the sensitive column. "Are you gonna come all over my cock, Kitten? Make a mess for me?"

Your head spins as you feel his teeth graze your skin. The pressure of his sharp canines sinking into your flesh sends you plummeting into a deep canyon of ecstasy. Your cunt locks around him like a vice, and a hoarse, depraved moan is pulled from your lips as he keeps a steady rhythm fucking you through the mind-bending pleasure.

Max thrusts faster once your blood touches his tongue. He greedily laps at the metallic crimson that pours freely from the tiny holes in your neck. You never register the pain. All you can sense is his bulbous crown inching further and further into the deepest part of you.

A choked grunt rumbles against the side of your throat. His hips stutter, cock drenched in your sweet cream allowing him to drive straight to the hilt before spilling his spend into your convulsing core.

Your mind goes fuzzy as you try to catch your breath. Fingers grip your chin, and your gaze lands on something from a horror movie.

A dark red stain paints the lower half of Max's jaw. His lips are flush and dripping with your blood. His tongue licks at the corners of his mouth, "Knew you'd taste as good as you looked."

You go to scream when he shakes his head slowly from side to side and tsks once more. His eyes lock on yours, piercing your soul as he speaks calmly.

"You got lost on the way to the bathroom."

You repeat what he says in a lifeless tone.

"A bug bit the side of your neck."

Again, you repeat his words.

"Now, close your eyes, Kitten."

You follow his orders before blinking them open a second later and find yourself seated among fellow circusgoers in the middle of the bleachers.

As the show continues, you rub a tender spot on your neck and spy a large glass window. You notice a handsome man smiling down at you from beyond the glass.

He winks and playfully tongues one of his sharp, pearly white fangs.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[petpenname]

❤️‍🔥Red Wine Supernova❤️‍🔥

pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverterd(f)reader c.w. smoking, drinking summary: modern college au, dealer!ellie x introverted!(f)reader, slow burn with some sad elements, inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want To Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're a Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: this ones long buckle up

Part Two

Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots

Music filled House 03 in each room as the girls got ready for that night's party. Olivia and Ivy share a room, blasting 2000’s pop throwbacks and club hits as they adorned themselves with low rise jeans and sparkles. Phoebe was playing 70s hits from the living room. Her and Daniel in matching bellbottoms, lounging on the couch pregaming already. Sage was in your room, as you struggled to form an outfit. Sitting pretty in her 90’s basement grunge attire, she questioned you about the night before.

Sage: “So she actually came over?! And you smoked with her! Look at you!”

“No, don't look at me! I don't know what to wear!” You say, holding up articles of clothing. “But yeah, she texted me while I was in the bath!”

“Oh, sensual,” Sage said with a wink. Seeing your distressed look she dropped the teasing and turned her attention to your wardrobe which was strewn across your room. 

“What about those white boots! You could go as a go-go dancer!” Sage pointed at a pair of knee high white platform boots. You had only worn them out once but they were practically perfect for a 60’s themed look. 

You picked them up, “okay yeah, but what do I wear them with?” “I dunno, a mini skirt?” Sage said laughing, she left the room to start pregaming and give you space to get ready.

You end up putting on a pink and orange plaid mini dress that fits your curves so perfectly. You opt to have your hair down and natural, pinning back one side behind your ear. A simple eye look to complete the look with a signature 60s line above your eye, in pink of course.  

You stand in front of your full-body mirror inspecting yourself. You are usually confident in your looks but tonight you feel an extra form of confidence. Something about the spontaneity of last night after a grueling finals week. 

“Hey y/n, you're almost ready?!” You hear Ivy shout from down the hall.

“Yeah! Coming!” You grab a cute white shoulder bag and put your go-go boots on. Grabbing your phone, extra lip gloss and taking one more look in the mirror before heading downstairs. 

Your roommates are pregaming in the kitchen when you come down too hoots and hollers about how great you look. You return the girls compliments taking in everyone's looks. Phoebe hands you a shot and a lime and you all take one for the road. The walk to House 09 takes less than 10 minutes. You and Sage take up the rear of the group adventure.

“So are you going to see Ellie tonight?” Sage nudges you in the side playfully 

“I don't know, probably, she said she would be here?” You are looking down to hide your obvious blushing. You had confided in Sage the most about your sexuality. Having come out as bisexual last year you've only had two girlfriends, which didn't end the best. You had a tendency to shut yourself away and you guess that didn't sit right with partners. But you also felt like they never respected your space. You decided to focus on yourself but sometimes, stoned, late at night Sage would get you to confess how lonely you were. You yearned for someone to love you, and for you to love them back.

“Wait, Sage, did you set this up or something like some blind date?” You remembered how Sage introduced Phoebe to Daniel and their relationship was solid. 

“No dude!” Sage chuckled. “I promise, Ellie asked for your number, practically begged for it! And plus she's been dropping off to the house for months now, don't you think I would have set you up sooner if i thought about it?”

Ellie begged for it? Intrusive thoughts of Ellie on her knees looking up at you with those emerald eyes flash through your mind, making your heart skip a beat. You sigh, pushing the perverted thought away. “okay yeah i guess not, I don't know she seems cool, i hardly know her though.” 

“Well get to know her!” Sage jumps ahead of you and turns down the path to H09, music already blaring into the street . You take a breath of air before following your roommates into the loud college party. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few hours are a blur of colored lights, dance music, and drinking. You don’t drink alot but you are also more familiar with the taste of liquor than smoke. So in the company of your roommates you take another shot and accept a mixed drink from Daniel, the designated bartender for the house. 

“Do you guys want to go dance?” Ivy shouts over the music

You all exchange nods, leaving Phoebe with her boyfriend at the makeshift bar and head to the living room to dance.

Whatever was in your cup tonight let you let loose a little more than usual. You worked up a sweat dancing to hits from the 50s to the 2000’s. Before you know it the room was getting a little too hot and you were a little too out of breath. You gestured to Sage to get her attention,

“I'm going to step out back for some air!” you say fanning yourself, still stepping to the beat

“Okay girl! Do you want company?” Sage responds over the music

“No no keep dancing! I'll find you guys!”

“Dont Irish Goodbye on us again y/n!” Ivy points and dances in your direction. “I'll come find you if you're not back in twenty minutes!” she blows you a kiss.

You laugh, “I won't leave! Promise!” Dancing your way out of the mass of moving bodies you head through the house and out into the back yard. The cool air instantly gives you a sense of relief as the commotion from inside gets muffled by the closing door. You choose to sit on the porch steps, staring up at the sky and you start to look for stars.

 Due to the light pollution you are only able to see a handful of stars at the moment. While you are looking you hear the back door open and close. Glancing over your shoulder you see none other than Ellie step outside, face flushed and hair slightly damp clinging to her neck. She wore a white tank top, blue flannel and blue jeans, the same dirty converse from last night. 

“Oh hey whats up cutie! You made it!” Ellie says when she catches your eye. She fumbles over to you and sits down next to you, letting out a sigh. “Oh my god it's hot in there, yeah?” “Hey, yeah it is” you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. She called you that name again. You both avert your gaze from each other, a beat of awkward silence before Ellie says, “you want to smoke with me?” and pulls out another immaculately rolled joint. 

“Only if you tell me what decade you're supposed to be dressed up as?” you joke, looking her over. Most of the guests had gone all out with their fits. 

Ellie chuckles “Whichever decade that supplies this party with weed.” 

“Sooo 90s?” You say as you watch her face light up as she sparks the joint. 

“Sure let's go with that” she exhales, turning her body towards you, with one leg bent on the deck and the other stretched out down the steps. She leans towards you slightly as she hands you the joint.

“And you are…. No don't tell me…. 70’s?” Ellie guesses as you take a drag from the joint.

You let the smoke out as you giggle, “no! 60’s! I'm wearing go-go boots”  You stick a leg up and gesture to your boots

Before you could think Ellie reaches out and touches your boot, sliding her long fingertips, from the ankle up to the top. “Oh wow, yeah now i see them” flicking her eyes from your leg to make eye contact with you. 

Your ears become hot at the sudden contact and you put your leg back down, take another puff before handing it back. There are those flutterings, they are much lower tonight.

“Wow and you're smoking more tonight! You're like a totally different person than who I met yesterday.” Ellie jokes as she takes the joint and leans back on her other hand. “Miss never goes to parties”, she teases.

Still feeling her gaze on you, you can't bring yourself to look at her so you look back at the night sky, leaning back on your hands. “Don’t get used to it, this is my one outing of the semester.” 

“Yeah me too, honestly.” Ellies tone turns a little serious as she too looks up at the night sky, taking another drag of the joint and using it to point.

“The Big Dipper should be right there, you can see the start of it, but there's too much light to see the rest.”

“Mhmm” you hum, “I wish i could see them all, I could in my hometown.” 

“Yeah me too” Ellie says, “Do you want another hit off this?” 

You look back down and the simple motion of your head moving in space brings your awareness to just how fucked up you are. You know alcohol takes a bit to have an effect but you have also never drank and smoked together. 

“No, thanks, ugh I'm feeling a bit light headed.” you say.

“Oh shit” Ellie puts out the joint and flicks it away, “Do you need some water?” 

“Yeah that would be cool, I just need to catch my breath” You say as cooly as possible.

“Okay stay right here!” Ellie gets up and is gone in a flash,

Your head is spinning and you grab onto the railing for some stability, willing yourself not to throw up in this back yard. Deep breaths in and out help you regain a bit of your strength and feeling. You hear the backdoor open and shut as a few pairs of feet hit the deck. 

“Hey, hey girl you okay?” Sage is next to you with a glass of water, you take and sip it slowly.

“Hey dude yeah, i'm good, I don't know if i'll go back inside though.” 

“Yeah that's understandable, did you smoke too?”

You nod, and take another sip of water. Sage gives you a sympathetic look through her own blood shot eyes.

“I'll walk her home” you hear Ellie say, who you realize had been standing behind you the whole time.  

Sage looks up, “oh yeah, I mean if you don't mind? You cool with that y/n?  

You finish the water and hand your cup back to Sage, “Yeah, you stay Sage, tell Ivy I'm sorry for leaving again”

“Sure babes, and hey it's not an irish goodbye if you say goodbye!” She helps you up and says bye to Ellie and you before going inside. 

“Are you sure you're feeling okay?” Ellie turns to you, a look of worry on her face.

“Yeah I'm feeling better now, I just have never smoked and drank together before.” 

Ellie laughs, “damn what are you a virgin too?” 

Such a direct joke caught you off guard, “uh no, i'm not.” you say defensively, turning away feeling your cheeks flush.

“I'm kidding, I promise! Sorry, come on let's get you home hun”

You curse yourself for being so quick to defend yourself, you were actually quite experienced, at least with your own body. You just didn't know exactly how to express that to your partners. 

Ellie led you out the back garden gate holding it open for you, you felt her hand cup the small of your back as she guided you to the sidewalk. You let her hand rest on your waist as her warmth warms you up in the cool night air. 

“Are you going to go back to the party?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Nah probably not, i dont really hang out with a lot of people. I just go to sell.” Ellie responds matter of factly. 

“What about your roommate?”

“Oh Dina? She’s with Jessie, I love hanging out with them but I have the dorm all to myself tonight!” She gives you that stupid sideways grin again

You smile back at her before looking forward, feeling a bit nervous realizing how close you two were walking. Her hand still on the small of your back, and her index finger tracing small circles, like she was nervous too. 

You walk the rest of the block in silence and she walks up to your front door, stepping away from you before saying, “You sure you're okay to be left alone? I feel like I need to see you drink another glass of water.” 

Maybe it was the joint, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the feeling deep inside of you wishing for someone to be close to you again. You missed her warmth. Either way you find yourself answering before thinking

“You could just come in? I'll drink a glass of water to prove I'm good!” You hold a hand to your chest like making a royal promise. 

Ellie chuckles, scratching the back of her neck and looking down, “Oh shit, yeah sure, I’ll come in” Did you just make her nervous?

“Cool” You say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You enter the house, flipping on a few lights and tossing your bag on the table. 

“I have to get out of my shoes first!” you exclaim, taking a seat, suddenly out of breath again.

“Here allow me!” Ellie says, skipping to your side and kneeling down, before you could protest she has your right leg in her hands, inspecting for a zipper. “It's on the inside” you laugh at her willingness for chivalry, pointing at the zipper on the inside of your ankle.

“Inside huh?” Ellie said in a tone that made your stomach flip. She finds the zipper, pulls down and slides the boot off your leg. Revealing fuzzy pink socks adorned with a Kirby embroidered at the top. Holy shit you forgot you had those socks on?!

“Oh my god Kirby!” Ellie laughs, “I didn't know what socks to expect but i dont think these were it.”

“What's wrong with kirby?” You counter teasingly, the alcohol giving you some courage post sock reveal.

“Nothing! I just feel like i'm finding out little crumbs of information about you”, Ellie laughs again, “You're like a puzzle, or a riddle? I just want to get to know you.” she looks you in the eyes when she says that. 

That last sentence felt so personal. You sat back in silence as Ellie removed your other shoe, revealing a second, pink kirby sock. She looks up at you and you realize she's on her knees, in front of you. Did you dream this into reality? How did such a pretty girl just fall into your life like this? You almost lose yourself in her eyes before she speaks again.

“You still gotta drink water for me, pretty girl.” 

You nod, as she rises from the floor and looks around for the kitchen. Rising too and guiding her in the dim lit kitchen you grab a glass of water and return to stand in front of her to drink it. Finishing strong with a sigh and a smile, you set the glass down on the counter and turn to her.

“All done” you say

“Good girl” Ellie says with a smirk, staring into your eyes. Your stomach does a flip again, she is way too comfortable calling you pet names. 

Like magnets the two of you slide closer until you are inches away from each other in the dim kitchen light. Both of your breaths hitch as you watch Ellie's eyes dart from your eyes, to your lips, and back up. You swear you could stare at her like this for hours, but you wanted nothing more than to closet the space between you two.

*DING DING*

The ring of Ellies phone sounds off in her pockets, startling both of you away from the tension boiling between you. 

“Ah fuck what now” Ellie says under her breath. She quickly checks her phone and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuckers need more weed at the party. I should probably let you get your beauty sleep huh?” She says, shoving her phone back in her pocket.

You involuntarily let out a yawn as she makes the suggestion and you hide your face from her gaze. Partially from the yawn, mostly to hide your disappointment “yeah, I should probably sleep this buzz off, I'll walk you out?” 

“Sure thing” she says.

You both head for the door, Ellie lingers a bit, swaying side to side before saying bye and dipping fast down the steps. You say bye and close the door behind her. Stealing yourself upstairs to take off your makeup and outfit. A quick self care routine later and you are passed out in bed.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie lights a joint in frustration as she walks out of H09. She really didn't want to go back there but ended up staying another hour because Jessie and Dina guilted her into drinking more. Thoughts of you swirl in the girl's head as she makes the walk to her dorm. Your eyes, your legs, your lips, your kirby socks. Ellie laughs to herself, and pulls out her phone. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up the next morning with a headache. Checking the time on your phone you're shocked to see you slept in until 11!

You have a few unread messages:

Ellie: want to meet for coffee? Ivy: I made pancakes! Sage: how can you have so much energy all the time? Be right ther Olivia: shhh sleeping

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Meet for coffee??” Sage said, mouth full of pancake. You and your roommates are sitting around the kitchen eating room-temperature pancakes and discussing the night before. 

“That's what she said?!” you say, pouring some syrup over your breakfast.

“Well are you gonna go?” Ivy asks from the pantry

“I mean, yeah? I should, right?” “Only if you want to girl” Olivia say beside you

“Oh she wants to” Sage says with wink in your direction

“I do!” You say blushing, “I'm just nervous! The last times we interacted were so spontaneous. And this is like, she's asking me out!” 

“It's just coffee babes you'll be okay! Its casual” Olivia says with a reassuring rub on your back

You smile at your roomates as you pick your phone up, responding to Ellie

y/n: “Okay :) when?”

30 seconds later you receive a text;

Ellie: “Sweet :), 1pm at the cafe?”

y/n: “I'll see you there!” 

You smile at your phone for sec before your roomates all join in on a group “oooooooooo” 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1pm comes fast. After breakfast you help clean then retire to your room to shower and get ready. It's a little chilly out this morning so you opt for a chunky sweater, comfortable wide leg pants, and sneakers. After checking yourself in your mirror and in Sage’s mirror, with her approval and luck, you head out the door. 

The walk to the cafe felt like it took forever. You become hyper aware of yourself, your outfit, anxieties bubbling up in your mind as you try to stay calm. You round a corner and can see the cafe now, and something in you stops you in your tracks. 

Memories of your past relationships flash in your mind. How hurt you were, how misunderstood you felt. Being lonely was familiar but it always stung when someone left your life. You will yourself to take a chance, your roommate’s comment in your mind for comfort. You’re just meeting for coffee, it's casual. With a deep breath, trying to gain some confidence you continue forward. You open the door to the cafe stepping in, warm cinnamon and coffee bean scents fill the air while a lofi beats track plays over the speakers. You look around and it takes you just a moment to find Ellie sitting at a table in the corner. She has a baseball cap on, looking down so she didn't see you come in. 

You take in her appearance while walking over. She's manspreading comfortably in dark green cargos, a gray t-shirt, a black zip up hoodie and black converse. You knock lightly on the table to get her attention, startling Ellie who shoots up, almost knocking her chair over behind her. 

“Hi there” you say sweetly

“Oh y/n! Morning! Er afternoon, hey” She composes her surprise and smiles at you to sit down. “I got you a coffee!” 

You realize there are two coffee cups in front of you on the table. Ellie slides one over and you see your order written on the side in black ink. Medium mocha, with half chocolate. She remembered? 

“Oh wow thank you! Do I owe you anything?” you ask, accepting the drink.

“Of course not,” Ellie says leaning back, “I just made it before I finished my shift.” 

You take a sip of your coffee, and set it down, taking in the girl sitting before you. You realize that Ellie looks exceptionally tired, she has bags under her eyes and her lips are slightly crusty. She seemed to have energy, although that must be from the caffeine she's been having throughout her shift. 

“Did you have a good night?” Ellie asks, breaking your fantasy

“Oh! Yeah, i just passed out after you left and slept so long” You laugh, trying to hold eye contact. 

“Good you got your sleep, I wish I did, i forgot I worked this morning and got woken up by my boss calling me” Ellie sighs and sips her coffee

“Oh shit, we don't have to hang out if you're tired?” You say, secretly wanting to invite her back to yours to cuddle up and watch movies. But your body does not allow the thought to come out.

“No! I want to hang out! I actually wanted to show you something, if you're down?” Ellie asks

So many thoughts fill your mind with what this thing could be. Your curiosity is endless and quickly leads to images of Ellie pulling toys out of her backpack. 

“Yeah sure, I'm not doing anything today” You say, leaning forward on your hand with your elbow on the table. Searching Ellies expression for any sign of what her intentions were. 

Ellie just gives you a big grin and leans forward too, flashing her eyes from yours, to your lips, and back up. Instantly you're reminded of last night, you hadn't even thought about your almost kiss in the shadows of your kitchen. You feel your ears going hot and instinctually pull back to drink your coffee, hoping your eyes didn't display any of your shock from the memory. 

“Sounds good, if you're ready we can head out” Ellie suggests, keeping her eyes on you.

You nod and swallow, “sure, ya” you say, your voice a little quieter. 

Ellie rises from her seat, grabbing her coffee, waits for you to rise and follows you out of the cafe. “Here follow me!” she says when you two are outside, pointing behind her. You skip up to her side and follow her through campus. Making small talk, asking each other about your coffees & the weather. You realize that Ellie is leading you into the College neighborhood, the street that you live on. 

“You want to show me the street I live on?” You ask, laughing because as far as you know, this street is a Dead End. And you have been to that dead end. Maybe she was bringing you to a house? 

“I mean yes? And no, we are going to the end, there's a spot over there.” Ellie says, taking another sip of her coffee

You were pretty sure the dead end was fenced off with a thick forest behind it. Not being very adventurous you had never thought to explore past it. You and Ellie walk the length of the block, passing other college students. You approach the end of the street, the sidewalk seemingly ends and you wait to see what Ellie will do. 

She turns around to face you, “Do you trust me?” 

“I have no reason not to you” you giggle, “you're not going to murder me are you?”

“No! Oh my god, come on, this way” Ellie smirks and nods her head to the side of the street. 

House 10 was the last house on the street, and there was a thick hedge that ran the length of the house and the fence. Ellie walks you over and the perspective change reveals about two feet between the hedge and the fence. Ellie slips into the gap and takes a few steps before making sure you are following. You're right behind her, and comment “there are no spiders right?”

Ellie laughs, “dont worry ill scare them off. It's not too far.”

You walk maybe 10 feet between the hedge and fence before Ellie stops and crouches down. Ducking through a large hole in the chainlink fence and popping up on the other side to face you. “Here hand me your coffee!” she says, sticking a hand through the hole. 

You hand her your coffee and crouch down to do the same, almost slipping on a few leaves on the ground. 

“You good? Here you go” Ellie hands your coffee back and says “i promise its not far now, just through there.'' She walks into the forest. There's a makeshift trail probably formed by other students exploring back here, and you follow her for a few minutes. Listening to the sounds of birds and wind through the trees, you start to hear the sound of running water. The trail winds around, sunlight flashing through the leaves onto Ellies auburn hair. You can't help but get lost in her figure. Your mind trailing off to things too embarrassing to say, you have no idea how long you've been walking. Ellie turns around flashing you a smile, breaking you away from your bedroom thoughts.

“Its just up here! Come on!” She picks up a bit of pace, excitement getting the best of her. 

You follow her around another corner and see a pretty amazing sight. Large concrete structures from half of a building, overgrown with vines and graffiti painting the crumbling walls. There are steps leading up to a large concrete platform with two walls in the back. You take a sec to take it all in, Ellie bounds up the steps, turns to you and puts her arms out framing the scene.

“Ta-daaaaa! What do you think?”

“This place is so cool!” You say, following her up the steps and looking more closely at the graffiti. You read “smoke em if you got em”, & “JC’11” probably from a Jackson College graduate. One catches your eye, it's smaller and closer to the ground. A black heart with red lettering that says “girls kissing girls”. 

“Ya, right.” Ellie looks around with you at “her” spot -atleast she likes to think she's claimed it. “I found it a few months ago, I come here pretty often but don't really bring anyone. I don't want everyone to know about it.”

“Yea i can understand, its peaceful out here” you respond, focusing your attention back on her

“And you haven't seen the best part!” Ellie walks across the platform to the other side, where the other wall is missing. You follow her and realize that the water you heard had gotten a bit louder since you tuned into it. As you approach the opening in the wall you are perplexed with the beauty you see. A small waterfall cascades over moss covered rocks, flowing into a stream only a few feet wide and away into the forest. All the stars aligned for the sun to shine the most on this spot in the forest. The foliage was lush, moss covered all surfaces, and tiny flowers and mushrooms dotted the scene. 

“Yeah, it's pretty great, my own secret hiding spot.” Ellie beams, stretching her arms behind her head, trying to be as casual as possible. 

You looked in awe at the scene and Ellie looks in awe at you. Taking in your features, your soft lips, your beautiful skin. She wished she could capture this image of you forever in her mind. Never had she taken someone here before, but as soon as she met you, she wanted you here, with her. And there wasn't anything she wanted to do more than to kiss you.

“This is so beautiful” you say, “want to sit down?” You say turning to her, blushing at the strong eye contact youre met with.

Instinctually Ellie takes off her hoodie, stepping back and setting it down on the ground for you and her to sit on. You are able to see a large tattoo on her forearm, looks like a fern? You both position yourselves on the makeshift blanket, with your legs hanging over the side of the ledge. 

“Do you want to smoke? I haven't since before my shift.” Ellie says after a moment of silence. 

“Oh yeah, sure! But if you keep smoking me out and buying me coffee i'm going to have to make it up to you!” You say with a smirk, playfully nudging her with your elbow.

“I'll take whatever you give me,” Ellie says as she takes out a joint box from her pocket. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the possibilities of what your ‘repayment’ could be. 

You take the lit joint from Ellie and you two make small talk about the graffiti and nature surrounding you. Conversations turn more personal when you ask Ellie about her family. You learn of Joel, and the farm back home where Ellie spent most of her time shying away with her journal and guitar. Ellie spoke about coming out to Joel in highschool and how he was one of the only people who supported her through it. Her hometown wasn't the most accepting so she did not have many friends let alone relationships. You share your life too, realizing that you and Ellie have more things in common than you thought. Your family came around after a year or so of coming out but you only ‘came out’ to friends and the public when you moved to college. You had a boyfriend in highschool that ended badly and 1.5 relationships with girls since coming out. You say 1.5 because the first one was really a situationship that ended with the girl deciding she was straight. 

At this point the joint was dead and tossed in the brush. The sun was drifting behind the trees, casting a cool hue across the forest. 

Ellie and you listen to the stream in comfortable silence for a second. The joint is settling in nicely and bringing all your hidden thoughts to the surface. You wanted to kiss her, touch her. Your fingers are a mere centimeters from each other and you could feel the electricity through your whole body. 

Suddenly Ellie takes a breath, like she had been holding hers for a second. “CanIaskyousomething?” she says, in almost all one word. 

You turn your body to her, leaning forward slightly on your arm. “Anything” you say.

“I know… i know we just met, but, you’re really pretty and I was just wondering… canikissyou?

She rushes the last part but you hear clearly and your heart skips a beat. Ellie turns to look at you, searching your face for anything you're feeling. 

You're lost in her eyes again, your mind screaming yes but all you can do is nod at her, doe eyed and longing to feel her warmth.

Ellie breathes in looking at your lips before she leans forward, cradling your face in her hands and setting her lips on yours. The kiss is hot, passionate, slow but needy as your combined lust mixes together right there in the forest.  You feel like hours have gone by before you separate, looking into eachothers eyes, a line of spit connecting both your lips. Ellie looks like she's even higher than the joint made her and you can't help but giggle a little before going in for a second kiss. This time your hands go for her, brushing through her hair and grabbing at the nape of her neck. 

Separating for the second time ellie breathes, “wow, that was… wow”

You hum in approval, untangling your hand from her hair and resting it on your leg. You're both breathing a little heavy, lips tingling and palms sweaty. 

Ellie feels a buzz on her thigh and pulls out her phone to a string of texts, all from buyers hoping to make their Saturdays better.

“Ah fuck, im sorry, i wish we could stay here longer but, work calls…” She says with a sigh. She wishes she could stay here all day with you but Ellie was a business woman, plus she had been saving up for a few things and was so close to meeting her goal. 

You laugh, wanting to stay with her too, but you are getting hungry, probably from the joint. “That's okay, will you walk me back to the house?”

“Of course doll” Ellie says with a smile, making your already hot face burn with desire. You both stand and after grabbing her hoodie and coffee, without asking Ellie grabs your hand and begins to lead you back out of the forest. 

You walk hand in hand down the street in comfortable silence. The touch shared between you said more than you two could manage at the moment. You are submerged in your feelings and barely notice you getting to the walkway in front of your house. 

Ellie stops and turns to face you. Giving you a kiss on the back of the hand she says, “have a great day beautiful, i'll be thinking of you.”

You linger your hand in hers for a moment, blushing, mind blank but you know you need to respond. “Thanks for today Ellie, i'll talk to you soon.”

You start backing up the walkway, both of you not wanting to separate from each other's gaze. You both give one last little wave and you turn to walk into the house. 

Sage greets you from the couch, seeing the look on your face she jumps up and runs to hug you in excitement. Bringing you over to sit with her as you tell her about your time with Ellie. You feel this could be the beginning of something beautiful. Although hesitant to get close to someone again, you feel right with Ellie. You can’t help but imagine what life would be like with her. 

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a/n: AHHHHHHHHH thank u sm for the love :3 I'm actually so excited for part 3... might even open submissions for other fandoms? idk I'm just having fun! Tag List: @vqxen @bready101 @sourgummywormsss @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x04

How we all doing?? have we managed to find some semblance of equilibrium in this new world where we have canon bi buck?? I’m not sure I’ll ever know how to exist in this world but that’s fine with me! I’m still here writing my silly costume metas and having a blast in this bright new world!

No Hen this week as we never see her out of uniform!

The rest is below the cut because you would all hate me if i clogged your feeds with this beast (shes 7k)- you have been warned!!

Actually going to start this week with a uniform out of work section!

Because three times in this episode, we had one of the firefam wearing an element of their uniform out of work and its actually pretty key!

We have Bobby in his LAFD polo when he informs Athena that Harry is wanted for assault and he fled the state.

Then we have Chim at the basketball game in his LAFD hoodie

And finally Buck at the airfield on his tour with Tommy.

All three are playing into the idea of protecting ones self by being in an official capacity in some way. Firefighters (like all first responders) are of course there to 'protect and serve' the community.

Bobby delivers the news to Athena about Harry - he's in uniform because he can inhabit a small aspect of his captain mentality - makes it easier to deliver the news and also gives him the distance to play the 'don't shoot the messenger' card if necessary.

Chimney has to step into paramedic mode at the end of the scene. The LAFD hoodie separates him from everyone else at the court and foreshadows that he will have to 'go to work' its also about chimney being there as the colleague not the almost brother in-law of Buck. An important distinction - it protects Chim from being seen to favour anyone (specifically from Buck. (Buck is angry and not being rational so Chimney has protection from Bucks potential anger for helping Eddie - Buck is already feeling awful by that point so the protection isn't needed but it provides cover if it were) and allows him to go into first responder mode. (this is so badly worded but I'm sure you get what I mean!!)

Buck is at the airfield under the guise of wanting to find out more about becoming an air support firefighter - its the cover under which he is operating to try and befriend Tommy. The jacket also provides him protection from Eddie when he shows up and finds out Buck is not coming to Vegas with him and Tommy.

Bobby

Just the one costume for Bobby this week - a maroon tee that her's wearing to sleep in. we see him in this colour a lot - its a bit of a staple colour for him and I've spoken a lot about maroon tees and shirts representing parental roles in relation to the various children of the 118. Its no different here -we can see from Bobbys face he isn't buying what Harry is saying and the parental concern we see evidenced here plays out with him calling Michael and finding out what is really going on.

Athena

Athena wears a lot of black this week, which is fairly typical from her, although we are in a much more overall muted palette than usual and its missing the jewel tones we're used to seeing her increasingly wear. its a bit of a signal of returning to normality now they're back from the cruise disaster.

She starts off in black and pink pyjamas but I'm going to talk about those at the end in the pink section so we're skipping ahead to this ruffle smocked cream blouse and her gorgons head necklace is back. the ruffling is an nod to her feathers being ruffled when Bobby tells her about Harry and his arrest warrant, and the white with the black trousers is about things being black and white - for Athena as a cop things do tend to be black and white when it comes to the law - of course Athena has always been one to work within the law to bend the rules but in this moment things are black and white.

Then we have her all in black with a red longline cardigan which has a open weave that give the appearance of mesh or a cage. The show has been using Red since day one which makes sense as it is a first responder show and you literally cannot escape it when the fire trucks are red! But they have always been pretty careful about when they use bright red in the costuming meaning its appearance with such regularity this season so far is pretty telling. Its an advance warning of incoming danger/trouble/strife, but it is rarely worn by the one who is directly in danger - they will be involved, but not the centre of it. The best example of this is Bucks bright red broadcloth shirt when Christopher calls him because Eddie is smashing up his bedroom.

Here we have it on Athena in the scene when things are about to properly kick into action with Harrys story. Athena is literally a red net about to ensnare Harry. its the one time in this episode we see Athena in a bold bright colour - something that generally is attached to her being happy or having fun, but not here.

The denim sleeveless shirt/jacket when Athena goes to the hospital to visit the lady who shot her son (does she have a name - I cant remember!) and later to talk to Harry about the reality of his altercation, is quite bulky and blocky. It's far less fitted, structured or flowy that we are used to seeing on Athena. To me this is about playing into her struggles to tread the line between mother and cop - that neither role fits right. That denim is also a fabric associated with labour, it suggests Athena is working hard to figure it out.

Then we get this all black outfit when she takes Harry to the station - it is such a simple yet effective bit of costuming, especially with the silver zips and buckles- it blends her in with the police officers in the station so she can hover the line between mom and cop - and makes it look like an arresting officer bringing in a suspect.

Harry

New Harry comes with a new style!!

I actually can't wait to see how they dress him over the rest of the season because there was a definite colour theme at play here this week with all the beiges, greens and redish browns which is very not how younger Harry dressed (he was much more bright colours).

Not going to lie - my hatred for the copaganda and the fact I've been in Bi Buck land since the episode aired has made it hard to focus on Harrys outfits in greater detail, but I do have a few thoughts!

This first shirt is a map print, maps denote journey's andHarry is on a literal and metophorical journey - the literal being the one he made form Florida to LA. The metaphorical one is all about his journey to become a man, and learning to take responsibility for his actions, so this shirt is essentially setting out his arc for the season - Makes me feel like the storylines with harry we're going to see are going to be about the community service he has to undertake and him figuring things out and growing up a bit in relation to that.

Then next up we have this cream hoodie with an brownish beige pocket. the thing I found interesting about this choice was the fact that Harry played himself off as innocent. lawyers usually instruct their clients to wear white shirts to court, and to avoid loud patterns. The white is because i suggests purity or innocence, and the loud patterns should be avoided because it suggests you're trying to employ subterfuge (that you're lying). So Harry wearing a block of cream is a play on this idea. We see him in the map shirt before - when he is employing subterfuge about his reasons for visiting, and now this cream is him trying to suggest his innocence to his mother - the use of cream rather than white is telling us that he isn't as innocent as he is making out!

Finally we have check theory (my most beloved) in play. harry returns to wearing patterns - this one check and in greens and browns. there is an element of military to the green shades, its a coloour we've seen used on Eddie to show his military background, but it is also a colour frequently worn by Athena - usually when she is fighting for her family in some way. Here it feels like a refelction of that, with the added aspect of green being a colour of growth. Harry shows contrition and is willing to take his punishement, showing his growth, but also showing his understanding of fighting for his family - and Athenas willingness to do the same. its showing us tht he is his mothers son. And of course the check is the pointer towards the fact he is in trouble - that his earlier protestations of innocence were false!

Then we move on the he Buckley-Hans

Chimney

Only the one for Chimney this week, it's a very short scene where he is completely oblivious to the tone of the conversation. He's dressed completely in greys and is by all accounts neutrally costumed. this is intentional - he's not the focus of this scene and when we think that so much of this episode is shown from Bucks pov, the use of neutral grey makes sense - Buck is projecting on to chimney in this scene. Buck himself is speaking his jealousy and fear, while what Chimney says is actually the little voice inside his head that isn't in fact jealous of Tommy, but is impressed by him

Maddie

Again only two costumes for Maddie this week and one of them is her dispatch outfit, but I'm including it because of its place with a mini colour theme for this episode, which both of her outfits play into.

I spoke about the use of red in Athenas section and its representing danger, and it is in play for both of Maddie's outfits, the wearer changes though. In the first scene, Maddie is in blue - dark blue. a tee with 'The Great School' and bobcat logo on the front. I love this, the bobcat is a symbol of inner strength and resilience in the face of adversity, while Maddie is a great source of learning for Buck - he essentially raised him and has been a sounding board for him since she returned to his life. Maddie is the next level wise older sister, her point of view is important to Buck and is grounding for him. She had got him to back down from his spiral over Eddie and Chris, until Chimney came in (and like I said above, that was Bucks inner voice, not really Chimney)

Then we have her dispatch uniform and its red. This is a clever play actually, it allows the costume team to put Maddie into red, a colour we don't really see on her outside of work (a deliberate choice as it helps distinguish work from non work to the audience). Just like Buck was the angry one in the other Buckley siblings scene, her Maddie is the one who is angry (with good reason) and we again get Buck recieving education at he hands of Maddie - in her place of work where she is a lifeline to people and where she holds authority. Buck needed her in a lifeline capacity in this moment and he got it, despite her anger. She gave him the advice and help he needed.

Eddie

Eddie my man looking suave and confident - this Eddie is Bucks version of Eddie so of course he looks cool, well dressed and in a green and black combo. In nearly every scene where Eddie nad Buck have a deep meaningful conversation - one that gets through to Buck on a higher level - that works on Bucks abandonment complex, Eddie is dressed in a black shirt and khaki green trousers (the only exception is the will reveal when he's in navy blue but that is to play in the yellow blue colour theming and its a close to black as they could have a blue!), this outfit is an inverse though, which is actually really clever. Eddie (Bucks version) here is playing into Bucks fear of abandonment - Bucks version of Eddie has spent so long building him up and chipping away at that fear that to invert that colour theme and have green on top and black trousers is a fun way of inverting that chipping away at Bucks fear - this is putting another brick in that abandonment wall

The black tank top!! Its back and everybody cheered! Ok so I wrote this meta about when the show puts Eddie into a black tank top and how it means he's in an emotionally vulnerable place and once more, the theory plays out. Obviously Eddie gets physically injured, but his face when he looks at Buck after he's gone down shows him emotionally vulnerable. Yes there is a little bit of anger and a lot of pain in the look he gives him, but there is also understanding and a little guilt too.

It's the moment Eddie realises that he has unintentionally sidelined his best friend, and the effect that has had on Buck and his abandonment issues. This is Eddie showing his truly deep understanding of Buck and how Buck ticks (and because this is also from Bucks pov, its also showing us Buck understanding that Eddie understands how Buck ticks) we get all of this proven when Tommy comes over to Bucks later and clearly states that Eddie is feeling bad about the whole situation.

It is also worth noting that When Buck has seen Eddie at the gym or being sporty in some way Eddie has either been in uniform or in a black singlet and that he always looks super competent (even if he is working through things when he is in the black singlet). From my perspective, this is an interesting choice to play into because it suggests Buck recognises Eddies emotional maturity over him, even when he's not in a great place (we can discount fight club Eddie becasue Buck didn't actually see him there), its clearly something Buck admires and places as central to how he sees Eddie.

Tommy

Tommys costuming is chefs kiss perfection to me. The wardrobe department have literally dressed him as Eddie and I am living for it.

Its a way to emphasise that Tommy and Eddie are super similar. this serves two purposes - it builds a visual connection for the audience - we don't need to be shown Tommy in the army or fighting/ training in Muay Thai etc, we can mentally make a connection to the ones we've seen of Eddies in the past and accept the information as fact. obviously not all people who join the army or undertake MMA are going to dress the same, but this is television where visual information is valuable real estate, so playing into tropes and stereotypes is a key piece of arsenal.

The other thing about it is the specific Eddies its calling back to - fight club Eddie and to a lesser extent, post breakdown Eddie when he's back in therapy and unrepressing himself.

Tommys basketball outfit is really about making him stand out from everyone else - it makes him seem to appear more because the blue shorts and the light coloured top will catch your eye, even if he's not the focus of the camera at that moment. This is all about the fact that this is Bucks perspective on things - he is seeing Tommy everywhere and feeling like he's taking over/ taking away Eddie and so we the audience feel that same thing in a visual way. The thing the blue shorts do is visually connect Tommy to buck in the next scene we see Buck in - when he is talking to Maddie at dispatch - the blues are similar enough for us to subconsciously connect back to that scene and link Buck and Tommy together rather than Buck to Eddie - who Buck is dressed more similarly too in the basketball scene.

It doesn't hurt that the blue shorts also play into yellow blue theory - especially against the sunsets yellow hues in a scene that is playing homage to a famously queer coded scene from Top gun.

Then there is this outfit from Bucks loft. again is very similar to an Eddie outfit - its the same style of shirt we often see Eddie wearing especially in seasons 4 and 5.

Tommys jeans have always been reminiscent of Eddies Jeans (I mean I know they are jeans, but I promise the significance will become clear when I get to Buck!)

Even Tommys watch is similar to Eddies Christopher watch (every other watch in the show worn by the men is all black - black strap black face and mount only the Christopher watch is different) in that it has a different coloured strap to the watch face and its mount.

The other thing I want to mention quick, is the progression of Tommys costumes in relation to them being similar to Eddies. By this I mean the first non uniform costume we see Tommy in is very stage 2 Eddie, while the one below is very much more stage 3 Eddie.

I also really like the use of a purple/red/black shot tee for this scene as well. If you watch the scene through, the way its lit changes its colour as different sections of the scene unfold. The red tones are there early on, during the apology and conversation around Eddie being allowed to have more than one friend and Christophers adoration of Buck. it gives it that air of danger lurking, because Tommy isn't sure how things are going to play out. and plays into the red/blue theme we saw with Buck and Maddie in this episode - just on a much lower level.

Then it turns this purplish shade as we move into the initial stages of flirting - from the moment Buck moves around the counter to put himself in the same space as Tommy. It gives things an air of mystery, but purple can also be a colour of enlightenment - both elements are in play here and I love they were able to do this with this shirt.

The shirt turns black at the moment Tommy says 'my attention' - the moment he essentially hold all the cards on making a move - he is the one with the power here (as the already queer person in the room) and black is a power colour, so its the perfect choice for the moment he makes his move.

Buck

Buck my beloved bi disaster. His costumes were doing some pretty impressive storytelling this episode!

We start off at the air field - I spoke at the start about this LAFD jacket and the theme of protection, but I also have other things to say about it and the rest of the costume. We don't generally see Buck out of work wearing uniform (we actually don't see many of the firefam in uniform out of work tbh) so when we do its going to have meaning. T

he thing with the bomber jacket being the choice (they could've made it a hoodie which we've seen him wear out of work more!) is that on one level plays into its name and the fact that its being worn at an airfield, while on another level it low key plays into the Buck cheating arc. which is actually fun - the idea that he's 'cheating' on the 118 by claiming he's thinking about his career options and also cheating on Eddie by trying to befriend Tommy (because at this point that is all it is its only once Eddie appears that things change).

The trousers are also important. I know I've said before about how trousers are less important than tops because they are less likely to get screen time. We not here - here they are really important, but only with the context of the rest of the episode.

These are the short in the leg dark trousers we've come to know and love on Buck - he's been solidly wearing them since season 2 and what we have seen him wearing so far in season 7 so no surprises to see them here. But this is the last time we see them and its super important and telling.

We also have Bucks white trainers - the ones that he wears when he moves forward on his journey - we see him in them the entire time this episode.

Buck and Maddie this episode have a red v blue thing going on in their scenes together. In this one Buck is in red and Maddie in blue. I spoke about the red for danger theme they seem to be using this season for the red clothes above in Athenas section and it applies here - Buck in red is foreshadowing the danger/strife that the basketball game presents as that is what he is talking about and what he is most upset about over Tommy and Eddies friendship.

It's a slightly burnt out red in comparison to Bobbys red shirt from the cruise, Athenas red cardigan, or even the red he wore when Eddie had his breakdown. Its not a full high alert colour, its a more muted and restrained colour - suggesting the danger is going to be less of a big thing, that it's just a part of it rather than the main big thing

We can also see that Buck is now wearing more traditional stonewash jeans - this is the first time we're seeing them on him since Eddies arrival at the fire house. I'll explain them in more detail in Bucks last outfit of the episode, but I needed to point their presence out here.

Basketball Buck in his white shirt and dark blue marl cut off tee - its very Buck posturing at the firehouse gym and its meant to be. Its a direct reference to the last time Buck showed any jealousy towards Eddie. The shorts are different this time in that they're white/light grey rather than black, but I think this is done for two reasons - it creates a pairing with Eddie - they are dressed similarly with dark tops and lighter grey shorts, but on opposite teams/sides.

It also makes him stand out from everyone else at the game - excepting Tommy (and a random guy in a red top with white shorts that I'm living for. When Red = foreshadowing as I've talked about above, this guys actions on the court are precursors of what is about to happen - we see him bump into Tommy - a couple of moments later and Buck does the same thing, then just before Eddie gets taken out by Buck, he gets breezed past by Eddie stumbles and starts limping. Its fun and clever and not something many people will pick up on - its a bit like the role of the bullet in Hamilton!)

Bucks bright blue chunky corduroy shirt with white tee underneath. I already spoke about the visual connection between Tommy from the basketball game and this shirt. It also fits into the red and blue theme I spoke about above - this time Buck is the one in blue and with the combination of Buck in his danger incoming white shirt and Maddie being in red it signals exactly what this scene is going to be about.

The danger, in my opinion, is Maddies wrath at Buck getting physical with Eddie. Its a perfectly valid and important response from her and plays into the growth we get from Buck in this episode that is not connected to his bi awakening - the recognition and acceptance of his bad behaviour in a far more mature way than we saw from s3 Buck.

The chunky corduroy give the shirt vertical stripes and we all know how I feel about Buck and vertical stripes at this point - I wrote about them a lot in my seasons 5 and 6 metas and the blue and white nature of bucks outfit plays into the theming that was at play in early season 6 - where Buck was free from Taylor and resisting buying a couch because he was looking for the right couch etc. (and playing house husband to Eddie nad feeding them!!!)

Here in this episode we kind of have Buck going through a similar process - free from the shackles of death and trying to figure things out - who he is and what he wants, he's still on that hamster wheel in many ways at this point in the episode but he is about to jump off it.

This is the key to happiness and Lev's advice and the year of yes scene 2.0 - the same shade of blue are at play here. Lev figuring it out ('I get it now') just as he's dying and Buck then trying to figure out what Lev had figured out and essentially failing before he died only to now get it and free himself is a blue thread we've been following through season 6 up to bucks death, then the use of this shade of blue in Bucks costumes tailed off - we saw it reappear a couple of times after the lightening strike - specifically around Natalia and his continues flirtation with death - almost like his hovering around death was him trying to grasp what Lev had figured out.

Then the blue had been gone again only for it to reappear here in this episode in a scene that precedes Bucks bi awakening and his comments about being free and 'yeah that works' with their double meanings that play in the same way as lev's 'I think i get it now' just without death coming immediately after. It's a scene when he starts to get an inkling on what his jealousy is actually about. (The fact we know he's going to be back in this bright blue in the next episode in a scene with Eddie - that is very likely a coming out scene also plays into this idea.)

And the stone wash jeans are once more there for all to see!

Then we get this dark navy blue shirt with silvery white dots and yet again those stone wash jeans.

Ok lets talk about the jeans! The fact that we haven't seen Buck wearing stone wash jeans, which if you watch the opening couple of seconds of the dispatch scene, you will see are proper normal length on him and not ankle swingers like we've got used to seeing him in for the last few seasons!

The thing with him suddenly wearing these stonewash jeans is all about imitation - imitation of Tommy (and by extension, imitation of Eddie even though we don't see Eddie in stonewash denim in this episode) because you know that old adage of dressing like the person you want to be , or the idea that you subconsciously start dressing like the person you have a crush one?? Well yeah - Buck has all these new feelings that he doesn't know what to do with, but Tommy is cool and Tommy dresses like Eddie and Eddie seems to like Tommy better than Buck now so maybe if Buck starts dressing a bit like Tommy he'lI get Eddies attention back. So he's pulled out the stone wash jeans so that he's dressed a bit more like Tommy, but he's also dressing a bit like his crush that he doesn't yet realise is a crush.

The other small thing that I think is a nice nod - So Like I said earlier, the last time we see the jeans is in 2x01 - Eddies introduction to the firehouse. This is the moment (on screen at least for us as viewers) that Buck ceases to be the probie - that baton is passed to Eddie, so its almost like a symbol of him graduating and maturing in some way. then we get the jeans back for Bucks bi awakening - we see them the entire time he's navigating all these new feelings he has - he's never been with a man, so he's like a probie again.

The thing is, that the jeans appear to be gone for his date with Tommy (makes sense - he's on a date so he's got to look good for his man!) , and from what I can tell from the (super dark even when brightened) stills from the Buck Eddie loft scene, it would appear they are gone for that scene too. We've had bts of Oliver in the jeans again, so I don't think they're gone completely, but that makes sense, he's still a baby queer after all, still navigating his way through things.

On to the shirt! I wrote a whole meta about this shirt (and the jeans actually!) when we first got this still - you can read it here and I'm still a little awestruck at how close to the mark I got!

What I want to add to what I said, now I have context is that the two previous times we've seen blue shirts with dots are played upon in this scene - the lawsuit is the obvious one and the parallel is showing Bucks growth - he got jealous and worried about being replaced and ended up lashing out and suing everyone, now he got jealous and thought he was being replaced, but as soon as he lashes out, he realises he is in the wrong and verbally acknowledges it.

The diner with Maddie scene is a bit more tricky to parse out, but for me, it ties to Doug - Maddie is quick to call Buck out when he confesses to Eddies injury not being an accident, because of her experiences at the hands of Doug. In the diner scene she is determined to go back to her apartment and her life in the aftermath of killing him - she wants life to go back to normal. In the loft scene Buck is trying to achieve that end too - he's in a new world where Tommy exists as part of his life now (as Eddies friend initially) and he wants to clear the air and move forward - so he's still a part of Eddies life.

I also want to talk about the contrast between this scene and the one where Taylor turns up at his door after the shooting and the difference between being chased and doing the chasing. Its spots v stripes!

Buck is in a similar shirt - short sleeved button up in a dark shade (black) - this one with vertical stripes for the Taylor scene and he thinks he's being chased for the first (ish) time (Abby sort of chased him but he is the one who pushed for it to be a relationship when I think she just wanted a bit of fun and a hook up! so I'm not sure if it actually counts or not). Thing is Taylor only chases him after they've already kissed and when he's then made it clear thats what needs to happen. (as an aside - Natalia does pursue Buck - not romantically, but because he has died - and she is the one wearing vertical stripes

While in this scene he doesn't have to say anything, yes he flirts, but he isn't explicit about what hewants - Tommy is the one who makes the decision to go for it, and so when he genuinely gets pursued, he is wearing dots

Chased verse's doing the chasing - dots v stripes

Then we have the Pink.

Pink is back in full force in 7x04 with it popping up regularly throughout the episode.

I didn't include Athenas pink dressing gown or Bucks pink shorts in their sections because I actually wanted to talk about them here. The context the scenes they were in gave me the information I needed to figure out what I think the purpose of all the pink we've been seeing is.

Lets start with a quick recap of all the pink from the 3 previous episodes then we'll look at the pink from this episode as well as the fact I've already spotted some for 7x05 from the trailer

7x01

Athena's pale pink top in therapy with Frank

Sue at dispatch in a pink cardigan

Christophers pencil is pink when he's sat at his desk - when he reads the letter from Shannon

Marisol in her bright pink strappy top

Lola's Manzanillo outfit is bright pink and white

Norman has pink flowers on his Hawaiian shirt and he later wears a bright pink polo shirt when he's pretending Lola is still with him.

7x02

the woman who is teaching her daughter to drive

the pink roses on Hen's jacket (which I know I said play into the theme of family bonds etc but the pink has a second meaning)

7x03

The cruise ship family nearly all wear pink at various points (grandma and mom are the exceptions)

and now 7x04

We have Ashley C in hot pink at the Bachelor mansion

Athena in her dusty pink ddressing gown (and pyjama pants

The woman who shot her son is in pink

And then there are Bucks pink shorts!

All of these scenes with the pink are scenes about either naivety and or innocence

The pink on Athena is about her being naive about her relationship with Bobby - not recognising that she is nothing to fear about them spending time together.

Sues pink cardigan. Sue's line is about the civilians at risk from the fighter jet - she is representing their innocence

Christophers pink pencil - in that scene his behaviour might be naive (he's a child so of course it is) but it comes from a place of complicated feelings as he does begin to mature - he was the innocent party in the loss of Shannon and he is the one left to suffer.

Lola is naive on the ship about having an affair and thinking she could get away with it and that it wouldn't hurt Norman. She’s also innocent in the plot regarding the bitcoin (or whatever it was)

Norman is also both naive and innocent - not recognising the fact his wife is cheating, for selling up their entire life and he is innocent in the bitcoin plot.

The mother and daughter were innocent in the car crash.

the pink flowers on Hens jacket hint at her being innocent of any wrong doing (from a departmental perspective) at the car accident.

The cruise family are innocent - just in the wrong place at rhetorical wrong time and they are a representation of all the innocent people on the boat who end up in danger on that ship.

I think the Marisol top is an interesting one - it plays into Chris being naïve thinking he can date multiple girls without them finding out. But I also think it’s foreshadowing her naivety in general - I think we might either see her immaturity in some way (perhaps on a date with Eddie) which will prove terminal for her relationship with Eddie. Now we know about this date scene coming up this is possible but it could also end up being about the fact that she is likely going to be an innocent party caught in the crossfire of Eddie unrepressing himself (much in the same way Ana was back in s4/5.

Ashely C's pink dress is a representation of the innocence of trying to find love.

Athena's pink dressing gown is about her innocently and blindly/ naively being excited about Harrys return home to her.

The lady who shot her son is innocent in that her actions were brought about by something out of her control and so she can't truly be held responsible for them.

Then Bucks pink shorts are about his queer innocence and naivety about his feelings the fact that we see them in a scene where Tommy isn’t present, a scene that is meant to inform the audience that his behaviours is all about Eddie and not Tommy - that he’s naively not grasping that part of this internal confusion that he's experiencing.

To add to all of this, we have Marisol carrying a pink bag in the teaser for next week, to me if pink theory is correct then this is playing into the idea that Marisol is naively dating Eddie and that she's going to be an innocent caught up in whatever goes down in that scene (part of this arc) the use of lighter pink here specifically on a handbag is giving me babyish vibes as well (its screaming little girl playing at dress up!). As a quick aside - I am very amused that shes been dressed in a basic black top - she looks like wait staff!

And of course there is Eddies pink ensemble that is connected to either Chims bachelor party or the Madney Wedding. I have no idea what is going to happen in this scene(s) but whatever does go down - place your bets on Eddie being innocent (and or naive!) in whatever goes on - itll be fun to see if I'm right! 🤓

Right 7k later and that is me done for this meta!!! I am handing out the tea, coffee, cake and biscuits (all dietary requirements catered for!)🫖☕️🧁🍩🍪- you've earnt them if you've made it to the end of this monster! Hope you enjoyed reading. i'm off to revel in Bi Buck some more - I can't believe its happened I'm overcome!!! 🩷💜💙

Tagged peeps as always are below!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothill @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud @tommykinarddd @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine

(if the tags don't work its because people have changed their url (very valid of you!) and I didn't know, so let me know if you want tagging in future in the comments so I can catch the new urls!

[saekkas]

𝟏𝟗𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

summary: you’re not a believer in airport crushes. you think the theory that people look better when you’re bound to never see them again is delusional. that is, until fushiguro megumi comes and proves you wrong.

tags: 1.1k wc | f!reader | narration heavy | open ending | nobara and yuuji are the best wing men | strangers to potential lovers | very romanticized | megumi has green eyes here, as stated in the manga | for plot's sake, pretend it isn't weird to call him 'gumi' right off the bat

notes: megumi finally debuts on saekkas (clap clap). also, this may or may not be inspired by real life events hehe

early mornings have never been your forte. the wind bites your cheeks, prickling your skin with goosebumps that range all the way from your arms down to your legs. even the hoodie you’re wearing– the thickest, comfiest one you own, doesn’t help shield you from the elements.

it doesn't help that the air conditioner is on full blast.

“i swear to god,” you mumble, expression souring as strong winds crash against the airport’s ceiling high windows. in the distance, trees sway around erratically, crashing against each other as the sky turns a bleak gray. “if a hurricane comes, at least let it hit after my flight takes off.”

the line to check in is unnaturally long and it takes almost half an hour until you’re seated at the gate, an hour early before your flight departs. better safe than sorry, your mother always said.

the seating area is nothing but crowded, and as pregnant mother tries to calm her baby’s wails by swaddling him in blankets, you curse yourself for booking economy. a private longue with wifi and food sounds good right now.

tucking yourself into the furthest seat from the wailing baby, you breath out a sigh. your legs have been killing you for the past hour and you have no one to blame but yourself for not choosing more comfortable shoes.

there’s minimal noise in the area, being that it is far more secluded from the others. the only sounds you can hear are of footsteps and bickering from the trio sitting right across from you. one of the boys, the one with pink hair and a red hood over his head, is in what looks to be the deadliest game of rock-paper-scissors you’ve ever seen with a girl that has short brown hair.

your eyes flicker towards the last of the bunch– a boy who looks like he’s around your age with an unruly mess of hair on top of his head. he’s calm, minding his own business with a book in his lap, and legs crossed elegantly. the sweater he wears is black, oversized, and the fabric looks to be so soft.

you’re not a believer in airport crushes. you think the theory that people look better when you’re bound to never see them again is delusional.

you might just eat your own words because he’s actually cute.

you don’t know how many times your eyes have gravitated towards him in the past hour, but you know it’s probably enough to tip his friends off. from the corner of your eye, you see the girl nudge him repeatedly before very obviously pointing your way.

at first, he ignores her– goes back to reading his book like she’s a fly buzzing around his head. he’s probably used to it, you muse to yourself, chuckling in your head.

and then you feel it. the pinpricks of his stare. so pointed and sharp now that it’s directed at you.

the notes app is your only friend as you type against the screen of your phone. you feel stupid– like a schoolgirl who’s just been noticed by her crush, trying to seem busy as if you haven’t been staring at him for god knows how long.

when he looks away from your general direction, you lift your head– trying to get a glimpse of his side profile for, what you promise yourself to be, the last time.

only to meet his gaze straight on.

you hear his friends snicker, nudge their elbows against him as you look to the side, too embarrassed to even think of looking in his direction again. you hear his voice, low and smooth as he snaps, trying to make them stop. they only tease him more.

you hear the name megumi, picture the shy smile that spread on his lips before stiffening, quickly getting up from your seat when the intercom calls your flight number.

the staff are quick to usher the crowds of people into a neat line, herding passengers to their respective gates. your feet move on autopilot, making your way towards the double doors that lead to your plane.

you only stop when someone calls your name, waving frantically as they push through the people to get to you.

megumi stands in front of you, hair even more tousled than before. there’s a bead of sweat on his forehead that slides down the side of his neck and into his sweater. his eyes are green, reminding you of the forest, a piece of jade, and the color of your passport holder in his hand.

“you forgot this.” he holds the official document against his chest before handing it over to you. his fingers brush against yours, delicate and neatly trimmed, before they clench into a fist by his side. “you left it on your seat.”

“right,” you mumble, the sound wispy as if your own breath had been sucked out from your lungs. you bow your head in gratitude while simultaneously trying to shake away the daze clouding your thoughts. “thank you. i owe you one.”

the silence that stretches after is nothing if not awkward. you’re looking anywhere but him, and he’s doing the same. the staff guarding the gate watch– clearly gossiping about your little interaction with the male in front of you.

after a while, megumi nods once before turning back towards his seat, a muffled safe flight leaving his lips.

that's it?

you watch as he strides away, some parts confused and disappointed. his friends wear the same expression as you do, the girl practically screeching into his ear while the boy tries to push him back towards your direction.

megumi doesn’t budge, stone faced as he sits in between them. returning to his book as if nothing significant has happened.

maybe some things just aren’t meant to be.

you send the duo a wave, smiling when they do the same, before showing the staff your ticket and passport, heading straight down the gate, and boarding the plane.

you won't see him again anyway.

it’s only when you’re seated on a train, a thousand miles away from where you were, gazing out of the window as it speeds across Tokyo that you finally see a note slipped into your passport, one containing his full name and number.

i think you’re pretty. my friends think you’re cool. would you like to get dinner some time? – megumi fushiguro.

your pointer finger traces his handwriting, neat and cursive, and you let out a giggle because for whatever reason, it feels exactly like him.

to: cute sea urchin

[13:57] hey. it's the girl from the airport. [13:58] is sushi okay? it's my treat! i owe you one after all.

from: cute sea urchin

[14:23] yeah, anything's fine with me. see you.

to: cute sea urchin

[14:37] cool! can't wait to see you again, gumi!

[blueninjablade3]

Yandere 1953 Captain Hook Alphabet

TW: Manipulation tactics, murder/ slash mentions of murder, toxic mentality, unhealthy behavior in a relationship, gaslighting, and just general Yandere things. If you are uncomfortable with any of these things please don’t interact.

Affection: how do they show you love and affection? How intense can It get?

This poor man. He’s never quite been in a “real” relationship, he came to Neverland too early and we’ll never quite got to experience a relationship with a mature person. But he is intense with affection. He showers you with pet names, treasure and gives you lots of physical affection. Now that is if you submit to him. If you have yet to submit the most affectionate thing he does is put you in a room safe from the elements. But he still compliments you, brings you the things you need to survive, and uses pet names.

Blood: How dirty is he willing to get when it comes to you?

He’s a pirate. He’s used to killing. He’ll get as bloody as he needs to be to keep you with him safe.

Cruelty: how will they treat you once kidnapped will he mock you?

He’s actually quite cruel and mocking. He’s very cruel and easy to anger so hopefully you like being gagged in an isolated and empty room. Because you’ll end up there quite often. However, if you’re lucky Mr. Smee is sent to feed you instead of Hook doing it himself.

Darling: besides kidnapping you would he do anything else against your will?

Try killing Peter Pan? (Honestly, you don’t mind because after seeing how much Hook valued you he decided to bother you too. But you still somewhat dislike it seeing as Peter is a child)

I can't see him doing too much really.

Exposed: How much of his heart do you bear?

You bear 3/4 of his heart. The other 25% is reserved for getting revenge on Peter Pan. And maybe his treasure slash/ crew holds at least 1%. But the rest? All for you his seashell.

Fight: How would he feel if you fought back?

He’s going to be angry, hurt, and confused. However, it comes across as anger alone. Why are you fighting?! He should be enough for you! WHY ISN'T HE ENOUGH?! (He needs to chill tho and seek therapy)

Game: Is this a Game to them? Would he like watching his darling try to escape?

Pfft. No. None of this is a game. Do you not realize how dangerous Neverland is? Do you not realize he just wants the best for his sweetheart? Why don’t you just stop trying to escape? Don’t you see how upset it makes him?

Hell: Your worst experience with him.

He made you watch your lover at the time walk the plank. Made you watch the bubbles float up. A few weeks later he saw the body just floating out in the bay and showed you. It was horrific in every sense.

Ideals: what he sees in the future with you.

A future where he finally got rid of that blasted boy, got married, and had a child that he got to teach the ways of the sea.

Jealousy: does he get jealous and if he does, does he find a way to cope or will he lash out?

I’d be lying if I said when this man gets jealous he doesn’t immediately go red in the face and go ballistic. And yes he gets jealous quite easily due to his many insecurities.

Kisses: How does he act around you?

That’s dependent on Peter Pan. If Pan had been a pain and humiliated Hook he’s going to have a short fuse and treats you a little worse than usual. Which is ok because actually treats you alright (By the standards of a Yandere. Please don’t anyone treat you like this in everyday life). But if he’s had a good day? He treats you wonderfully. That’s the days you’re likely to get Jewels, pet names, and the most likely chance you’ll get transferred from the empty room hooks quarters. (you’ll finally have a bed!)

Love letters: how would he go about courting/approaching you?

Hook was super awkward. He tries to win your affection with Jewels and compliments. When it didn’t work Hook got pissy and kidnapped you. Now hold still and let him dote on you.

Mask: Are his truth colors different from what people think?

He’s much sweeter as a “lover”. He’s less prone to outbursts at you than others, he loves pet names and please show this man some love.

Naughty: how would he punish you?

The isolation room. Sometimes no food (NEVER leaves you without water because he doesn’t want you dehydrated) however no food is like you tried to escape and almost managed punishment.

Oppression: what rights did he take away from you:

Freedom is the main right he takes away. He also MIGHT have you depend on him and have to start asking him for permission to even ask the restroom at the peak of his obsession.

Regret: does he regret kidnapping you? Will he ever let you go?

Only when you get emotionally distressed like sobbing, shaking, screaming sobs does he regret it. But he won’t let you go. Neverland isn’t safe enough for that.

Sigma: what brought this side of him?

It’s a mix of him not learning how to be in a healthy relationship, him falling hard and fast, and him being paranoid about Pan/ his crew.

Tears: how would he feel if you cried screamed or Isolated yourself?

He’s going to feel bad for you regardless. He’ll back off if he thinks that he’s worsening the situation. But if he’s not he’ll let you sob or scream into him.

Unique: is there anything different from a normal Yandere

He’s a pirate captain so you’re constantly on a boat which makes it harder to escape.

Vice: what can you use to escape him?

He’s a sucker for cuddles and Peter Pan might be willing to help you escape if you become the Lost Boys' new mother.

Witts end: would he ever hurt you

No! He’s cruel but he’d never purposefully put you in harm.

Xoanon: how much does he revere/worship you and to what extent is he willing to go to win you over

He’s willing to go to extreme lengths to worship you. And even further lengths to win you over. He’d probably view you as a divine being.

Yearn: How long before he snapped and kidnapped you?

You’d be surprised at how impatient he can be with some things. I’d say about 3 months.

Zenith: would he ever break you?

Yes! But not on purpose. Once he realized he’d try and fix you. He wants a lover, not a robot.

Thank you for reading! Please remember that rebloging, likes and comments are much appreciated! ❤️ Also leaving a poll for which Yandere Disney Villian you want next below ⬇️

Since the Poll has now ended here is the link

[marthawrites]

Only A Scratch

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.4k+

About: Aemond requests you, a healer who has tended to his wounds before, to accompany him on a trip to Duskendale.

Includes: One bed trope! A more balanced mix of plot and porn featuring elements of mean!Aemond, injury, dick sucking, cockslapping, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, and mentions of fem receiving oral sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story is based on a request from @babyaemond with the quote of "you know what your problem is?" with our favorite one-eyed war criminal. Thank you, Chris ily! 💖 I had an absolute blast writing this and I hope you like it too! As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

-

The realm might not believe it, perhaps not even the occupants and workers of the Red Keep would believe it, but, Aemond Targaryen was a momma's boy. He loved and respected his mother more than anyone else in all the kingdoms. With her nameday coming up, Aemond wanted to get her something extra special.

One afternoon while visiting Helaena during her embroidery time – little niece and nephews playing with him in the middle of the floor – he brought the idea up to his sister. 

"I think that a lovely idea, Aemond. You fetching Duskendale's greatest painter? Mother will hang the portrait somewhere everyone can see," Helaena replied with bright eyes. "And they have those mollusks who produce the most dazzling pearls. You can't go all that way and not get her jewelry!"

Aemond smiled. Helaena and her children were the rare people to draw genuine emotion from the prince. "I will pick something in your honor. Your gift to mother."

"And Aegon?" She asked.

"Aegon won't get any credit for these gifts. He wouldn't even be able to keep the secret, much less add to the surprise."

The princess giggled; unguarded in the company of her family.

-

To say receiving the dragon prince's offer was a surprise would be a vast understatement. He wanted you to go along on this trip with him? Out of all the healers and maesters? Even if you wanted to, you could not tell him no. Bewilderment buzzed around you as you rode out of King's Landing on horseback with him, Ser Arryk, and Ser Erryk.

It wouldn't be a long trip. Perhaps a week, there and back, with some leisure time to enjoy the city when you arrived. 

The twins were a skilled and respectful pair. You felt safe with them. You wondered, mind idly wandering as the twins led the way out of King's Landing, if you were Aemond's first pick for an accompanying medic. Fog rolled up from the sea and blanketed everything with a haunting gray. If it weren't for golden ways of sun piercing through clouds and fog like javelins it would be considerably creepy. Rays brought out your natural coloring, and when you turned to look across your shoulder to prince Aemond he looked wholly regal: silver hair shimmering, riding garb decorated with his House's sigil (as if anyone would need reminded who he was), breath hanging in the chilly morning air like he truly breathed smoke.

He felt you looking at him. "I don't need two eyes to see you staring so hard, girl," he said, turning the full attention of his single eye to you. Lilac. It nearly glowed in the foggy subdued brightness.

"Apologies, your Grace," you said with a guilty little grin. "The last time I saw you I was bandaging your newly stitched thigh. A much different sight than what I have of you now. You clean up well," you said, tiny smirk not leaving the outermost corners of your mouth. "Nasty cut it was… how did it heal?"

His face remained skillfully blank. There could have been a dozen emotions hidden behind that perfected poise; from his posture to the way he held the natural shape of his bowed mouth, he didn't allow you a glimpse into how your words affected him. "It healed well."

"I'm pleased to know I made such an impression that you'd request me to join you on this journey. An honor, truly, my prince," you said with quiet pride.

"There are two women in court who are heavy with babes. Both will be making their entrance into the world and day now. None of the maesters would risk leaving them," he replied with an edge of curtness, words clipped and even. "It was only then I considered you."

Ouch. "Oh," you said, a little taken back. "Well, I still stand by what I said," you added, trying your best to deflect the sting his words gave you.

"Hm," he hummed, smug. It was his turn to smirk, now.

The rest of that first day’s ride went relatively smooth and uneventful. That is, until Aemond got bucked off his horse. It was a miracle you were able to stay on yours! The twins’ horses, while still terribly frightened, appeared to be of a more mellow mind for they were able to be soothed while Arryk scouted ahead to see what might have caused the fright. You dared not leave yours during the ordeal in case you needed to get a galloping headstart. Tension hung in the air until Arryk came back. “A black bear is perhaps a quarter mile away,” he said upon arriving. “I didn’t see any cubs and the beast seemed unbothered by me. It was gorging on berries. Are you alright, my prince?”

Luckily Aemond was able to break his fall. Unfortunately it came at the cost of landing on his forearm upon a ridiculously sharp rock. A jagged cut ripped through his riding gear and into his leanly muscled flesh. You had helped wrap it with a clean linen bandage for now, but crimson bloomed beneath the binding. He would likely need stitches once all of you were settled into an inn for the night. “‘Tis only a scratch. Let’s get to the next town before nightfall, yeah?”

Arryk stole a glance with you, and then his brother, and you once more before nodding to Aemond. "A scratch," his eyes had silently said to you; a flash of sarcasm gone quicker than a blink.

The next town on the road to Duskendale was small and hardly worth mentioning on a map. Climbing roses in full bloom covered the inn's facade making it quaint and homely alike; their heady aroma lingered heavily and you wished you could bottle the fragrance. Echos of the scent followed you inside and mingled with savory foodsmells of dinner. 

"'Fraid we're about full t'night. I hope you all don't want separate rooms," a middle-aged man with wild eyebrows said from behind the bar. He leaned on it as he looked all of you over. "Ain't seen one of you Targaryens around in awhile. Pleasure ta have you, Prince Aemond. Now, what can I do for you lot?"

"Three rooms and dinner for everyone. That's all," Aemond replied as he produced payment for the innkeep.

Turning, the man inspected what keys were left. "Hmm… I have only two rooms available." Pulling the keys from their hooks he handed them over. "One bed in each of 'em."

Yet another tense silence fell over the group. The unmistakable tingle of a blush rushed to your face. Shit shit shit.

"We need three. Surely you can kick someone out for the night," Aemond said a bit too sharply, fingers reaching for another few coins to bribe the man.

"Ha!" He guffawed. "No can do. Prince or no, I have a good reputation and I don't intend on breakin' it."

The twins shared an amused glance and you wanted to die.

"Fine," Aemond said as he took the keys and tossed one set to Arryk and Erryk. "See you at first light to break fast before leaving."

You followed Aemond into the room you'd be sharing for the night. One bed. You hoped it was a big one.

Once inside, any hope of surviving the night with all your sanity and wit vanished in an instant. The bed was tiny. And, as if things could get any worse, there was only one pillow and blanket. Surely Prince Aemond Targaryen never considered this happening.

Tension crackled between you two and you wanted to jump out the equally tiny window and run all the way back to King’s Landing. "At… at least neither of us will be cold in the middle of the night?" You half-stammered, trying, feebly, to break the silence.

"You better not snore, girl." He flashed you an icy glare but the smirk of his mouth spoke to something else. Amusement? A challenge? "I'm going to bathe."

While he was gone you were left to stew on the current predicament. Ever since you first laid eyes on the young prince he never left your brain. To you, he was unbearably dashing and roguishly handsome. He was cold, cruel (according to rumors), and smug in a way that made you want to strangle him and drown him in kisses alike. Over the last year or so you'd helped tend to his wounds a few different times, and each time you left with more butterflies in your belly than before. They said his kin were closer to Gods than men, and you believed it.

After hardly eating during the day you were half-starved. You ate your dinner while he was still gone, and left for the women's side of the bathing quarter before he returned. In your experience not all inn's had the space for a proper bath – you weren’t going to pass this up. 

Upon returning – clean, refreshed, and still warm from the bath – you saw Aemond laying on the bed in his nightclothes with his uninjured arm tucked behind his head. It was stupid – absolutely fucking stupid – how handsome he looked in such a regular position. He was all long, and lean, and sharp angles. You wondered if he housed any softness within himself. He'd got a fire going in the small mantle and it crackled peacefully. Light and shadows accentuated the natural lines of his chiseled face, eyepatch practically orange in the glow. After a moment of awkwardly fumbling with your damp hair, you asked, "how's your arm?"

"'Twas only a scratch. I'm fine," he answered, making no move to shift his position to make more room for you on the bed.

"You're lying. It bled through your bandage on the way here," you retorted, squinting at him suspiciously.

He sighed. "And now it's done bleeding."

Turning, you double checked the latch on the door. Sure of the lock you turned back to Aemond. "Can I at least see it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Are you deaf, or daft?"

It was your turn to glare at him. "You know, I never truly believed the rumors of you being cruel." You threw a cloth you’d used to help dry your hair onto the table as you stepped, firmly and deliberately, across the small room to the bed. "But now I believe it. You know what your problem is? You are rude." Without allowing yourself to process what you were doing – and not giving him a moment to, either – you were straddling over his lap. Demanding. Determination hardened your features. "Let me see it."

Aemond tensed beneath you and the pupil of his eye swelled. He wasn't expecting this. His jaw feathered as the hand behind his head immediately lunged forward to grab your throat. Squeezing gently, warningly, he smirked. "And you know what your problem is? You are an insolent brat." Your eyes softened to those of a doe and it sent his cock twitching beneath your thinly covered center. "Mayhap you forget who you are speaking to, girl."

Breath shuddered from your lungs. You felt him beneath you and it instantly sent fire rolling through your belly. Desire. Lust. So easily he turned your irritation to something else entirely. "I only want to check on it," you said against his careful grasp, trying your best to appear innocent.

He laughed. "Climbing on my lap like this I think you want something else. Tell me… what more does this bratty little mouth do?" With his question he slowly released his hold from your throat, thumb trailing across the softness of your bottom lip. The darkness of his eye glinted when he heard a faint whimper tickle up through your chest. "You'll have to be louder than that…"

Without having to be told you grazed your tongue along his curious thumb, pulse hammering behind your ribs and between your legs alike. Could he feel how hot you were? Boldness coursed through your blood. "Your Grace…," you simpered, looking at him with dazed eyes. "I've wanted you for so long." You dared to nip the tip of his thumb, gently rolling your tongue beneath it. He tasted clean with hints of wood and smoke from stoking the fire. It made you ache.

"I've other things that need tending to, now. Perhaps if you play by my rules I'll play by yours," he proclaimed, pushing his digit further into your mouth. He hissed quietly with the sensation. Greed and need simmered in his chest, threatening to boil over. You weren’t even doing anything and yet you still drove him near wild.

Your hands spread across his chest. “Those are fair terms,” you said with a playful tilt of your head. Your eyes roamed over his throat and what was exposed of his collarbone. Sleek, pale, warm. He was so warm. How could he be when it was so chilly? You unlaced the lazily tied strings of his cotton sleep shirt, fingernails gently scratching down his front. You smiled when he hissed another inward breath. Beneath you, he neared full hardness. “Needy prince…,” you crooned, sliding from his lap as elegantly as you could so you were laying between his legs. You stroked along his cock through his cotton sleep pants, teasing. “Perhaps Targarenys are closer to men than Gods after all.”

"I like you better with something in your mouth," he said, tutting, as he shifted his legs a bit to give you more room. Now he moved, you thought, how generous of him.

Vibrating with your own need and impatience, you unlaced the front of his pants and tugged them down just enough for his cock to spring free. You gasped, satisfied. "So big, your Grace." He had a lovely cock. Truly. It was hot and solid in your hand when you stroked it, head blushed and swollen without you even having to tug downwards on his length. 

You'd be lying if you didn't secretly hope something like this would happen with the tension of sharing a bed and room. But this? You licked up the underside of his shaft, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking, and moaned at the sensation and taste.

Aemond groaned. "Is this what all you little medics do, hm? Tend to broken men before swallowing their cock?" He taunted, glaring at you triumphantly, mouth parted in silent bliss.

Instead of answering him verbally, you took more of his length into your wanting mouth. Flattening your tongue against him allowed you to hollow your cheeks. You looked up at him all the while, basking in the way his features changed; the way he somehow tensed and relaxed at the same time. You dragged your mouth up until only his sensitive head was wrapped by your lips, then down, lower, and up again.

"Fuck…," he groaned, eye rolling closed. One hand gripped into the thin faded sheets while his other moved to your damp hair. He threaded his fingers through it, gripping, tugging, just slight. 

Your eyelids trembled as a needy whine broke free from your lips. He popped free from your mouth with the noise. You chased his cockhead; wanton. Saliva built in your mouth and the sounds of you lavishing his cock were borderline obscene. You willingly choked on him; you throbbed as you squeezed your thighs together.

He grinned when you came up for air. His hand unfurled from the bedclothes and moved to the base of his length. He gripped himself and held your head still by your hair, expression widening with smug pride. He smacked his cock against the side of your face, traces of your saliva shiny on your skin. "Who knew my favorite little healer was such a whore, too," he purred. A second and third series of smacks followed. 

Bolts of lust jolted right to your core. You clenched around nothing; arousal gushing from you like syrup. "Aemond…," you gasped, vision hazy. "Please," you begged, unsure what you were truly begging for.

Him. Just him. Whatever he would give you.

"Such a pretty sound from your lips," he said, darkly and adoringly, as he delivered a final slap of his cock to the silky skin of your mouth. He leaned forward and grabbed you by the sides of your arms, pulling you up so you were nearly nose to nose. Without even looking he raked the hems of your sleep gown up while simultaneously yanking your smallclothes down. His fingers slid up your folds, testing your arousal. What he felt sent the entirety of his manhood aching. 

He had to be inside you. Now. 

"This little cunny is soaking. I don't even have to prepare you," he growled, shoving a long finger up into you without hesitation.

You might have peaked from that alone if he'd kept his digit inside you. If he pumped it. If he added a second. But, no, the prince did neither. When he pulled it from you he instantly brought it to his mouth and smeared your slick across his tongue. He smirked and you were sure you'd never been so desperate in your life.

Once again he gripped the sides of your arms and pushed you down into the old used mattress. He maneuvered behind you with ease. True to his word he didn't have to prepare you so he didn't. The young dragon prince guided himself right to your dripping center and eased forward. 

You arched deeper beneath him, supporting yourself on your knees while propping your ass up as much as you could. The stretch your body yielded to his sizable intrusion was glorious. You moaned, barely able to bite it back as he buried all of his rigid inches into your core. When he pulled back to snap his hips into you, you cried out his name.

"Be a good girl and shut up. Unless you want everyone in this inn to know what's going on in here," he said huskily behind you, the tremble in his voice betraying his outwardly restraint.

You tried to be quiet. You really did. But his hand holding the hair at the nape of your neck, and the lewd slaps of your smacking skin, and the pant of his breaths, had you wild with bliss and excitement. "So good… fuck! Aemond…! S-so good," you whimpered, body becoming lighter by the second.

The half babbled praises from your pretty mouth had the prince soaring. He gripped harshly onto one of your hips while the fingers of the other snaked beneath your pelvis to work your clit. "Wanna eat this pretty cunt 'til you're crying, too. Will you let me?"

"Please! Yes, yes, yes please," you answered as if in prayer.

His pace quickened, the angle of his strokes hitting you deep and hard, cockhead dragging and battering against that wonderful patch of nerves inside your walls. Leaning forward, his silken hair tickled your back. He bit into your shoulder, harshly drawing your flesh between his teeth so he could mark you.

You squirmed beneath him. Gasping, you basked in the sharp sensation of his teeth. It was the final thing you needed to lose yourself to the euphoria.

"Give it to me," Aemond growled in your ear. "Give your Prince your pleasure. Squeeze my cock like the little whore you are."

You did.

He fucked you through it, chasing his own high all the while. When you became too loud he turned your face into the mattress to muffle your noises. It helped. It also made all those sounds all the sweeter. For Aemond, it was the final thing he needed to lose himself as well. With a groan from deep within his chest, he pulled out of you at the last second and released his spend all over your back. It shone upon your skin. He couldn't help but admire it and he had half a mind to make you sleep with it on your back; marking you with his teeth and scent alike.

Slowly, you both came down from the natural high of orgasm. That cloth you brought in earlier was put to good use. 

"I don't mind that the bed is so small, now," you said as you both got comfortable beneath the blanket. Laying on your sides seemed the best way; him, the big spoon.

"Me either," he replied, a grin audible in his voice.

You found yourself no longer caring about the state of his arm. Not with the way it laid over your waist and rested up between your breasts. He held you against him.

Sleep came easy. 

When you woke up to Aemond's morning-stiff cock against your back you knew you had to find a reason to share a room with him for every night of the journey.

He would make it happen, he told himself, as he drew a lovely climax from you with his mouth before burying himself into you once again. All, before dawn cracked over the horizon.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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[binsito]

quiet

pairing: changbin x fem reader

genre: fwb

word count: 2k

synopsis: after coming back home from college, changbin recalls the time you two first had sex in your childhood home while your parents were away and tempts you to do it again - except this time, they were down the hall

rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, swearing, dirty talk (words like slut, kitten, baby and good girl are used), fingering, little bit of cumplay, changbin cums inside

note: not proofread so i apologize in advanced

the drive back home was exhausting but you were finally pulling up to the driveway of your childhood home. changbin parked the car and got out to take out the luggage. your parents had come out to greet you both happily, embracing you and welcoming you both back home.

your mom, embarrassing as always, squished changbins cheeks. complimenting him and letting him know how handsome he’s gotten which caused him to laugh shyly and his face to flush red.

you and changbin had grown up together, two peas in a pod, virtually inseparable. your parents were very fond of him and treated him like one of their own. they were excited to know their little girl wasn’t going to be alone when moving away to a new city for college. they trusted changbin and knew he would take good care of you. your dad had helped him bring the luggage inside while you and your mother caught up. she asked your typical motherly questions: “how’s school? are you being safe? are you dating?” you reassured her that everything was fine and not to worry. she was just so glad to have you back home for some time.

they had prepared a nice dinner for all of you to share as a family, changbin had always loved your mother’s cooking. she served him a nice portion and smiled when he complimented her. he was always so vocal about food especially if he found something delicious. happy belly, happy binnie.

once dinner was over, you offered to do the dishes but your mother said she’d take care of it. she wanted you and changbin to settle in to the room upstairs and unpack your bags. you trudged upstairs tiredly and walked into your childhood room, just as you had left it. there was a mix of posters and cds as well as a teddy bear collection. you were a very nostalgic person so even as you grew up, you still kept trinkets from when you were younger - meshing your interests from when you were a child with your adolescence. “it’s almost like you never left huh?” changbin chuckled as he sat on your old full size bed.

you were kneeled in front of him, unzipping your suitcase and pulling out your pajamas. you smiled softly and nodded “yeah.. i missed being here. it’s cozy.”

he hummed in agreement and fell back into the bed, staring at the ceiling. you could hear your parents going into their room down the hall. you both knew they would be out like a light very soon.

“hey..” changbin calls out with a soft chuckle, his mind had begun to race and he remembered something. you glanced over at him and questioned him, you could tell by the stupid smirk on his face that he was up to no good. “remember the first time we fucked?” god, he better shut up before you strangle him.. “changbin.. shut the fuck up my parents are down the hall..” he whisper yelled at him.

he didn’t seem to care, however, propping up on his elbow and looking down at you.

“it was right here. on this bed. remember that, kitten? we had such a blast..” you threw a shirt at him to shut him up but he just grabbed it and laughed, finding your facial expressions amusing. you would die of embarrassment if your parents ever found out about this. “what if we did it again? you know your parents are heavy sleepers..” he suggested “yeah but the thing is.. they literally were not home when we did it..” you rolled your eyes. changbin knew that was true, but he found the element of your parents potentially hearing you or finding out making his cock swell.

he recalls the time he fucked you face down into your bed while your parents were away on a work trip. he could vividly feel how your cunt was sucking him in, how you kept trying to reach back for him, moaning so loudly he was sure the neighbors were going to call the cops. he spent the entire weekend ruining your pussy, making an absolute mess of you. 

it happened on a whim, you had invited him over like you normally did but things felt different. your playful banter quickly turned into blatant flirting which then turned to you straddling him, teasingly grinding into him. you would be lying if you said he didn’t raise the standards of sex for you. sure, you slept with other guys before him, but after that you just kept coming back to him for more. if something works, why change it? if you were guaranteed fantastic sex, why would you risk doing it with a guy you didn’t even trust? with a guy who didn’t know where to find your clit, or how you liked your tits to be played with. a guy who’s cock may not be as thick as changbin’s, a guy who may not have the stamina that he does?

it made absolutely no sense to do something that silly!

“but wouldn’t it be fun? you’d have to be super quiet for me.. and you deserve a little fun after being so uptight at school with studying”

he was tempting you and he knew you couldn’t turn him down. if there was one thing you could never turn down, it was sex with changbin. you grumbled under your breath and got up to lock the door but changbin got up to stop you. “leave it unlocked.. that way you have no choice but to shut up and be a good girl” he whispered, leading you over to the bed. 

it was moments like this that made you hate the fact that he was your best friend. why was he capable of making you feel so good? why were you both so sexually attracted to one another? the lines were starting to blur too much for your liking and it was starting to make you nervous. “hey” he grabs your face, not having a clue what you were thinking about but trying to get you to focus. you snapped out of it and tugged him into bed with you, pulling him in for a kiss and quickly deepening it, tugging on a lock of his hair to elicit a moan from him because if he wanted to play this game then so were you. and you knew how fucking whiny and loud he got during sex. he couldn’t shut up for the life of him. he slipped his hands up your shirt to cup your tits, pressing them together and then pulling your bra down to let them spill out, he’d worry about unclasping the back later.

changbin was a very patient man, he had no rush when it came to undressing you. he knew that one way or another, you’d end up naked for him. you on the other hand, needed all clothes off immediately. you needed him bare in front of you and ready to get to work. however, you had to learn to be patient because changbin didn’t like it when you would hurry him up, often denying you orgasms or making you work harder for them.

thankfully, it seemed he was feeling a bit needy today, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, throwing them off the side of the bed before bringing his attention back to you. he grabbed your thighs and dragged you closer to him, you giggled and looked up at him. he was able to manhandle you so easily, he could fold you in two, your body so pliant to his touch. 

“you sure you’ll be able to stay quiet binnie?” you teased, he rolled his eyes as you lifted up your hips of the bed, allowing him access to tug your shorts down your legs.

“i have self control, unlike you.” but you knew that was a straight lie. sure he might’ve been more composed than you were, but you knew that as soon as he plunged into you, all reasoning would be tossed aside. 

and you were absolutely right.

as soon as you were both fully naked, he was struggling to restrain his moans. you having to press a hand to his mouth to quiet him down as you sunk down on his cock. he was sat on the edge of the bed, you on his lap, slowly starting to move on him. eyes rolling back, him nipping at your hand gently to help stifle any noise. you could feel him drooling a little and that made you pick up the pace. he gripped your ass tightly to slow you down, hearing the bed start to squeak. “getting nervous bin? they’re out like a light remember?” you taunted him, pulling your hand away from his mouth to tug at his hair and kiss at his neck, sucking a little too harsh and leaving a mark. you’d laugh at him trying to cover it tomorrow. and he was getting tired of you having the upper hand, making you gasp out when you feel him stand up, holding you in his arms as he rutted up into you, the sound of his skin smacking against you as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you were dying to scream out his name and he was making it hard for you not to, leaning into his ear so he could hear your pants and whimpers.

“fuck.. you drive me crazy.. letting me fuck you while your parents sleep down the hall.. you are such a slut..” he grunted, accentuating slut with a sharp thrust, one that made your toes curl.

he needed to be deeper in you, needed his cockhead to hit the very back of your pussy. as quietly as he possibly could (which wasn’t very quiet at all), he moved you both to the floor, laying you down on the rug you had by your bedside. he lifted your legs over his shoulders and hammered into you as you bit your fist. it would be a miracle if no one had heard the ruckus you had going on. “c-cunt’s gripping me so tight today.. so greedy.. don’t worry baby, it’s not going anywhere.”

he had you seeing stars, your mind completely full of him. he looked particularly handsome in this angle, hovering over you while he drilled you against the floorboards. he was getting sloppy, hips stuttering along with his breathing. your pussy pulsating and swollen, clenching on to him tightly as you felt him release inside you, the feeling of his warm cum inside you never getting old.

he pulled out carefully as to not spill any and helped you up into the bed. he laid against the headboard and pulled you into his chest. his chest against your back as he spread your legs open with his own, dipping his fingers down and pressing them into your pussy as he fucked his cum back into you. you kicked your head back on to his shoulder and breathed out in pleasure, his thick fingers always knew how to work you open. curling them as the squelch of your juices and his cum echoed softly.

“can’t get enough of you binnie..” you moaned out softly as his other hand came to rub your clit. scissoring you open and watching as you melted into his touch. he knew your body all too well.

he pressed soft kisses to your cheek as you reached your peak, shushing you gently so you wouldn’t wake anyone up. he pulled out his fingers and brought them to your lips, having you suck them clean before he kissed you to get a taste. “we might have some explaining to do in the morning..” he laughed softly “god i hope not.. they probably won’t bring it up even if they did hear anything”

you curled up in bed with him, not even bothering to get under the covers. you’d deal with your parents (and your possible feelings for him) later. 

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[honorarysimp]

Chapter 8: Nobody’s Soldier

series masterlist

All is fair in love and war.

Maxine, wasting no time, immediately seizes the initiative, her hands moving swiftly in a complex gesture as she incantates under her breath.

The air around her crackles with malevolent energy, forming a potent spell aimed at disrupting Lorraine's balance.

With a powerful sweeping motion, she directs the spell towards her target, sending a shockwave of energy surging in Lorraine's direction.

The attempt is both swift and calculated, designed to catch Lorraine off guard and exploit any vulnerabilities. As the incantations echo in the clearing, the very air seems to crackle with supernatural energy.

Lorraine, wielding the power of the elements with precision, unleashing bursts of fire and lightning against her sisters. Each blast illuminates their faces, revealing the true depth of their need to win this.

Maxine — seething with rage — retaliates with a dark and ominous incantation, commanding the shadows to rise up and ensnare Lorraine.

“You'll pay for this, Lorraine. You'll never know peace again!” with a swift and purposeful gesture, Maxine summons the shadows to obey her command, manipulating them to ensnare Lorraine in their inky embrace.

The tendrils of darkness writhe and twist sinuously, snaking around her like suffocating chains.

Despite the oppressive grip of the shadows, Lorraine fights fiercely, channeling her willpower to break free from Maxine's malevolent spell.

With a surge of sheer determination, she directs a powerful burst of energy towards the shadows, shattering their hold and emerging triumphantly from their clutches.

A flicker of defiance dances in her eyes as she stands her ground, unyielding in the face of Maxine's malevolence.

As Bobby-Lynn steps forward, preparing to join Maxine in her assault, Lorraine's gaze meets yours with a mixture of desperation and determination.

"Go!" she urges, her voice filled with urgency.

"RUN!"

Through the daze, you register that Lorraine is trying to sacrifice her own safety just at a whim chance you might be able to get away.

Even in the face of imminent danger, her priority is ensuring your safety, standing her ground to give you the chance you didn’t take when you came to save her.

Maxine and Bobby-Lynn join forces, their combined energy intertwining in a formidable offensive spell. With a synchronized incantation, they unleash a powerful blast towards Lorraine, aiming to exploit any opening in her defenses.

Lorraine, with unwavering focus, shifts her attention back to the conflict, channeling her magic to deflect the onslaught. The air crackles with the intensity of the magical exchange, causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet.

As the powers collide, the clearing morphs into a spectacle of contrasting lights—an amalgamation of fiery reds, crackling blues, and ominous shadows.

The elements intertwine in a mesmerizing dance, with flashes of energy rippling through the air like bolts of lightning.

Shadows stretch and bend with their command, snaking around the combatants, while vibrant bursts of light illuminate the battleground with an eerie brilliance.

For a moment, you’re captivated, entranced even.

As you observe Lorraine weakening from the intense energy exchange, a surge of protective instinct propels you forward, urging you to leap into action.

However, just as you're about to recklessly intervene, three familiar figures materialize from their hiding spots, halting your advance with their sudden and unexpected appearance. They move with an uncanny precision, circling you cautiously, like a pride of lions staking out prey.

Despite having three formidable adversaries surrounding you, you can't help but steal a quick glance at Lorraine, who — even when being outnumbered and weary — still manages to retaliate with a spell that disrupts Maxine and Bobby-Lynn's balance.

However your moment of split attention leaves you vulnerable as one of the male figures makes swift work of your momentary distraction, grabbing you roughly by the shoulder and holding you firmly in place, preventing you from moving any further.

Realizing it's Jackson who has grabbed you, you muster your strength and deliver a powerful strike, aiming your knee firmly between his legs.

Jackson immediately doubles over in pain, a groan escaping his lips, as he clutches at the sensitive area, struggling to regain his composure and balance.

As Jackson crumbles to the ground, a groan escaping his lips, you cast a brief glance at him, uttering with a hint of dry irony "sorry, no hard feelings, buddy”.

With that, your focus swiftly shifts to the other two remaining figures who continue to circle you cautiously, their intentions and next moves unclear.

You stand firm, raising your fists defiantly, displaying an open and ready stance. A determined smirk plays on your lips as you utter a provocative challenge, your voice laced with barbed sarcasm.

You know you don’t stand a chance against them physically, but what else can you do?

"Well, well, well, looks like we got a real dead fan club” your words carry a mixture of bravado and anticipation, a subtle mockery of their unspoken threat.

"I'd apologize for the lack of autographs, but I'm a bit 'busy' at the moment. So, unless you gotta plan on doin’ more than just dancin’ around, let's get this over with”.

As RJ and Wayne lunge towards you, their movements quick and precise, you react on instinct, pivoting swiftly to the side to dodge their advance.

The adrenaline surging through your veins sharpens your senses, making you acutely aware of every twist and turn.

Focus. Move. Breath. Move. Just like high school.

With a deftness you didn't know you possessed, you manage to evade their grasp, the ground beneath you churning with the dance of your nimble retreat. Despite the precarious situation, a spark of exhilaration ignites within you, fueling your determination to outsmart your formidable opponents.

You instinctively glance at Lorraine, concern knitting your brow as you take in the ongoing battle. She's still engaged in a fierce skirmish with Maxine and Bobby-Lynn, her every strike imbued with unyielding resolve.

Temporary awe bleeds through you, it’s hard not to watch because this isn’t card tricks or little parlor magic.

Both of them. Shes holding off both of them.

The clash of their magic sends ripples through the air, creating a chaotic dance of light and shadows. Despite her resilience, you can't help but worry about her chances against such formidable adversaries.

A shriek shatters the tense atmosphere, and in a split second, Wayne lunges towards you with a wild, reckless abandon. You barely manage to sidestep his uncontrolled charge, his movements clumsy yet undeniably calculated.

Recognizing the need for something to defend yourself with, your eyes dart around, scanning the surroundings for anything that could act as a makeshift weapon.

Your gaze finds the woodpile nearby, settles on an axe embedded into a chunk of wood with its blade glimmering amidst the moonlight cutting through the shadows, an unlikely companion in this tumultuous battle.

With a surge of decision, you make a mad dash towards the weapon, strides filled with a renewed sense of purpose. The world around you blurs as you focus on reaching the axe, your heart pounding in your still aching head.

Every muscle tenses as you approach the woodpile, your fingers closing around the handle of the axe, its weight reassuring in your grip.

Gripping the axe firmly, you muster all your strength and attempt to wrench it free from the chunk of wood. The blade remains lodged in place, the wood unyielding against your determined efforts.

Frustration builds within you, mingling with the urgency of the moment. Time seems to slip away as you strain, exerting every ounce of strength to force the blade free from its stubborn resting place.

The cut in your hand aches, making the handle slippery with your blood, so quickly you tear a bit of your already ripped shirt off and frantically wrap it around your hand.

Not the best, but a momentary solution.

You continue your struggle with the axe, desperation seeping into your every action. The words spill from your lips in a plea of "c'mon, c'mon, please”, gaze darting to the side, alarm fueling your urgency.

The three men, their movements a blur of intent draw ever closer, approaching swiftly and menacingly. With every passing second, the need to break free becomes more urgent, the weight of the situation pressing down on your shoulders. Your breath hitches, a mix of determination and terror coursing through your veins as you fight against the constraints holding the axe captive.

With a surge of frustration and desperation, you muster a final burst of energy and wrench the axe loose from the stubborn wood. The moment the axe is free, you pivot swiftly, your instincts honing in on Jackson approaching you.

They’re already dead. They’re already dead.

Besides, at this point, you’re so completely fed up and exhausted with everything that you have just too many pent up emotions needing release.

In that single instant your mind and body are a whirl of honed focus, channeling every ounce of determination into a single, deliberate strike.

The blade arcs through the air, fueled by adrenaline and desperation, and comes crashing down with unwavering precision.

It whistles through the air and connects to Jackson with a sickening crunch. A spray of blood splatters across the ground as Jackson falls, the metallic scent mingling with the charged atmosphere as a guttural groan escaping his lips.

And when he doesn’t get back up, you remind yourself that he wasn’t even alive anymore, there was nothing human left in him. In any of them.

The sight sends a shiver down your spine, but there's no time for hesitation. Your focus remains unwavering, your heart racing as you brace for the next assault.

Driven by a primal instinct to survive, you grip the axe tightly against your chest, your every fiber tense with anticipation. RJ lurches forward, his presence filling your field of vision.

Without a moment's hesitation, you sidestep his charge, your movements fueled by a rush of adrenaline. You twist with precision, narrowly evading RJ's outstretched arms, the axe clenched defensively in your grasp, every muscle taut.

With a swift and calculated motion, you seize the opportunity provided by RJ's momentary loss of balance.

Your arms move in a fluid arc, raising the axe above your head and then with a burst of power, bringing it down with force upon his vulnerable back.

The impact is sickening, the sound of the blade meeting flesh resonating through the air. A surge of exhilaration and terror courses through you as RJ falls to the ground, stunned and defeated by your decisive strike.

Just as you wrench the axe free from RJ, Wayne descends upon you with a frenzy of uncoordinated movements, his teeth bared in a threatening snarl.

In a desperate attempt to protect yourself, you swiftly hold the axe handle up, creating a makeshift barrier between you and Wayne's lunge.

The strain on your arms is immense as you brace against the weight of his mindless onslaught, the axe handle quivering against the force of his jaws snapping mere inches from your face.

Wayne's bloodshot eyes burn with a haunting intensity, magnified by their proximity to yours as he continues his determined growling. With an unsettling strength, his hands grip the axe handle firmly, tugging relentlessly to wrench it away from your grasp.

The unexpected force catches you off balance, blood already lubricating the handle which causes you to release it and stumble back, footing slipping momentarily.

Panic surges through you as the axe is torn from your hands, leaving you vulnerable and at the mercy of Wayne's unpredictable nature.

Wayne - gripped by a frenzied rage — raises the axe high above his head, a feral scream tearing from his throat.

He brings the axe down with a forceful arc, its blade glimmering fiercely in the dim light. Just as quickly, you find yourself slipping on the uneven ground beneath you, your balance faltering as you stumble backward.

The descent is abrupt, and you fall to the ground with a resounding thud. The axe swings with a sickening whoosh, its sharp edge inches above your head, narrowly missing your fallen form.

With a mixture of disbelief and terror, you find yourself uttering a “holy shit."

The sheer intensity of the situation overwhelms you, and in a panicked reflex, you scramble to your feet as he raises the blade again, the adrenaline coursing through your veins urging you to flee.

Wayne’s relentless pursuit propels you into action, and you bolt away, your heart pounding in your chest as you barely dodge yet another swing of the axe. Sinking into the soil just where you’d been.

You can’t help but feel a renewed surge of desperation, your mind racing with thoughts of survival. In that moment of heightened awareness, the world seems to slow down, every detail etched in your memory.

The thudding of your heart echoes in your ears, the wind moving past you as you sprint forward, the ground beneath your feet a blur of motion. Your eyes dart around, scanning the surroundings for any potential escape routes, instincts guiding your every step.

As you flee, your senses on high alert, you catch a glimpse of Wayne clumsily freeing the axe from its grounded position.

With a sickening clarity, you see him raising the weapon above his head, his movements still frenzied yet strangely calculated. It’s as if he’s locked onto your retreating figure with a predatory precision, poised to deliver a devastating throw. The blade of the axe glistens in the moonlight, its deadly aim directed towards you.

Lorraine's desperate cry of "NO!” pierces the air suddenly, drawing your attention from the impending threat back to her.

In a heart-stopping moment, you watch as she swiftly turns her aim from Maxine and Bobby-Lynn towards Wayne, her hands trembling with urgency.

Just as Wayne hurls the axe towards you, Lorraine cuts through the air with her hands and emits a concentrated blast of magic. The two forces collide, resulting in a shockwave that sends out a surge of energy that rocks the ground beneath you.

A causality from being in the range of the blast, the forceful impact of your fall sends a jolt of pain through your body. The ground gives way beneath you, and you find yourself sprawled on the unforgiving surface — the taste of dirt and blood mingling in your mouth.

The shockwave's aftermath leaves you disoriented, your head spinning as you try to gain your bearings. As you regain some composure, your ears ring relentlessly, the result of the fierce impact lingering like a phantom reminder of the battle's intensity.

Despite the pain and disorientation, you can't help but notice the reopening of old wounds, a poignant symbol of the repeated trauma you've endured.

A groan escapes your lips as you reach up to touch your head, wincing in pain as the ringing in your ears slowly subsides. Through blurry vision, you try to make out the figures engaged in the ongoing conflict.

Amidst the haze, flashes of vibrant magic illuminate the scene, casting an ethereal glow that dances across the battleground.

Despite the visual distortion, the radiant bursts of magic remain a vivid reminder of the supernatural forces at play, guiding your attention to the heart of the skirmish.

As you regain your composure and sit up, your gaze shifts to Lorraine, who is now under relentless assault by Bobby-Lynn and Maxine.

They attack with a ferocity that borders on madness, their unwavering focus directed solely towards their target. The onslaught is relentless, leaving Lorraine with little chance to retaliate.

The once calm and composed Lorraine now appears vulnerable and overwhelmed, her slender frame struggling against the barrage of attacks.

As you observe the ongoing struggle, your attention is drawn to Wayne, who has seemingly recovered from Lorraine's forceful blast. His movements are erratic, punctuated by guttural growls that escape his throat.

It's a chilling sight, a reminder of the malevolent force that now controls him, driving him forward with a single-minded focus. The once familiar face of Wayne is now distorted, contorted by darkness and despair, his eyes devoid of humanity as he stumbles towards Lorraine with relentless determination.

With a sense of urgency, you frantically search the ground for the dropped axe, your head throbbing with pain. Time seems to stretch as you desperately scour the area, your fingers grappling along the grass to find the familiar handle.

Every second counts as Wayne closes the distance between himself and Lorraine, propelled forward by an eerie determination.

As your fingers finally brush against the cool yet sticky wood of the axe, a surge of hope floods through you. You clench the handle tightly, your injured hand throbbing with pain as you shove yourself up off the ground with effort, and fall into a sprint.

With unwavering focus, you push through the pain and disorientation, your vision narrowing into a tunnel as you gather every ounce of strength left within you.

In a decisive motion, you swing the axe with all your might, targeting Wayne's side just before he reaches striking distance. The impact is deafening as the blade connects with his flesh, causing him to let loose an echoing bellow.

You mercilessly wrench the axe free from Wayne's wounded side, eliciting a sickening sound that echoes through the air.

Your lungs heave with heavy breaths, each exhale laced with an effort to maintain consciousness. The clash of magical forces continues behind you, a mesmerizing spectacle that dances eerily amidst the darkness.

Amidst it all, you stand, a tableau of both determination and desperation, your form streaked with a crimson hue — a mix of your own blood and the blood of your adversaries.

A macabre sense of humor laces your words as you manage through heavy breaths, "how's this for cutting the tension, Wayne?"

The clash of magic and the echoes of Wayne's scream fills the clearing, trying to push himself up on to his feet as he claws his way to you, so you seize the opportunity to strike a final blow.

With a decisive motion, you raise the axe high above your head and bring it down with unwavering force upon him, severing any hope of recovery.

The sickening crunch of metal meeting flesh reverberates through the air, accompanied by a surge of exhilaration that tinges the triumph with a hint of grim satisfaction.

The ground rumbles violently, shaking the very foundation beneath you. The intensity sends shockwaves through the earth, causing the fires surrounding you to whip and dance wildly.

Maxine, Bobby-Lynn, and Lorraine all halt their magic-induced battle, their eyes widening in a mix of awe and panic as they regard the spectacle.

The air currents, fueled by an inexplicable force, swirl around you like a tempest, crackling with an unseen energy that raises the hair on your arms.

Maxine's chilling laugh echoes through the air, drawing all attention towards her, her arms lifted triumphantly to the heavens as she proclaims “the second part of the ritual is complete! The sacrifices have been taken willingly by the promised!"

Maxine's declaration hangs heavily in the air, its weight settling upon you like a suffocating shroud. The implication of her words sinks in, their meaning twisted and sickening.

Panic courses through you as you grip the axe tightly, desperately seeking answers from Lorraine as your eyes find hers across the clearing.

"What the hell is she talking about?" you shout, a mix of fear and confusion lacing your voice.

The weight of the situation presses heavily upon your shoulders, a palpable tension settling in the air. Lorraine's face pales further as she recognizes the implications of Maxine's words.

"The prophecy," she whispers, her voice trembling before shifting into an accusatory shout as she whips around to Maxine.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?”

Maxine responds with a subtle nod of her head, a silent signal to Bobby-Lynn, who seizes the opportunity to restrain Lorraine with an invisible force.

The air around Lorraine constricts and tightens, constricting her form. She lets out a sharp inhale, an audible gasp, as she attempts to break free from the unseen grip.

Instinctively you take a step forward, squaring your shoulders as you yell out “LET HER GO! This is between us now!”

Maxine turns her attention to you, a calculated look in her eyes, seemingly relishing the power she possesses. Her voice, carrying a hint of dark satisfaction, repeats the chilling verse.

"Three sacrifices, taken willingly by the one promised," she intones, her steps approaching you with unwavering purpose.

A surge of trepidation floods through you, your heart pounding against your chest, as you tightly grip the axe, your every instinct screaming to be cautious.

The air around you seems to thicken with an intangible menace as Maxine closes the distance between you, a wicked smile playing at the edges of her lips.

Your voice echoes forcefully, "they were already dead! It doesn't count—"

Before you can finish, Maxine swiftly interrupts you, “no one gives a shit about the details” her words filled with a chilling finality “it has waited too long to abide by guidelines" she declares, her expression resolute.

The weight of her statement hangs heavily in the air, its implications sending a shiver down your spine. It's becoming increasingly clear that Maxine's motives are far more complex and sinister than you could have initially anticipated.

The true extent of the danger you face is only now beginning to unravel.

Lorraine's voice cuts through the chaos, a desperate plea, "run!" she begs, “you have to run!"

Despite the alarm in her voice, you don't relent. Planting your feet firmly, you stand your ground, realizing the futility of fleeing. With resolute determination, you understand that this has to be faced head-on for it to end.

You know if you run, they will simply find you again.

With the force of a tempest, Lorraine struggles against the invisible binds, her voice echoing with escalating panic. "No!" she cries out, desperation lacing her tone, “don’t be a hero!”

Yet you remain steadfast, adjusting your grip on the axe with unwavering resolve. You take a moment to steady yourself, drawing a deep breath before taking a step forward, your gait measured and determined. Maxine, undeterred, matches your stride, closing the gap between you with an eerily calm expression on her face.

Summoning every ounce of your remaining strength, you muster a mocking retort, calling out to Maxine “how’s this for having a few brain cells?"

With a surge of determination, you shake off your body's warning signals, pushing past the dizziness that threatens to overwhelm you.

With a reckless swing, you lunge forward. Your muscles tense, fueling the forceful movement as the axe blade arcs through the air towards Maxine.

In a display of almost taunting grace, Maxine smoothly side-steps your initial swing, her movements fluid and calculated.

Frustration boils within you, fueling your desperation. You let out a cry of exertion as you muster the strength to swing again, disregarding the protest in your arms and the searing burn of your exhausted muscles.

The axe blade arcs through the air, determined to meet its mark despite the mounting fatigue—

“ENOUGH!”

Maxine snatches the hilt mid-air with surprising ease, her grip firm and unwavering. Your arms tremble with the strain, the once surging adrenaline now fading, leaving behind the stark realization of your depleting strength.

The axe blade hovers in the air, poised and still, as though frozen in time between you and Maxine. Despite your valiant attempt, you can feel your body's resolve waning, the struggle to maintain your stance becoming increasingly arduous.

With a single effortless motion, Maxine swiftly tears the axe from your gripping fingers and flings it aside.

The discarded weapon lands heavily, its significance eclipsed by the immediate threat at hand.

Her free hand seizes you around the neck, the grip harsh and unyielding, leaving you little room to maneuver.

Your vision starts to blur as her grip tightens around your throat, a suffocating sensation that intensifies with every passing second.

The room starts to spin as your senses dull, the edges of your vision darkening. The sound of Lorraine's panicked calls fade into the background as a cold wave of fatigue washes over you.

Despite the desperate grasp of your hands around her wrist, the struggle grows feeble and halfhearted, the fight drained out of you by the relentless chokehold and the profound blood loss.

You fight to maintain consciousness, but your body grows heavy, the relentless grip of blackness slowly enveloping you.

Only… it’s not her grip on you that has your consciousness fading in and out.

Amidst the chaos and encroaching darkness, you find yourself fixated on Maxine's unsettling incantation she’d been muttering since she grabbed you.

Her free hand, cold and clammy, suddenly presses firmly against your forehead. A sharp, searing pain unlike anything you've ever experienced before erupts within you.

It's as if a scorching fire has suddenly ignited inside your skull, the intensity and suddenness of the heat spreading through your veins and leaving you reeling.

The world around you starts to melt away into a blur, the agony consuming your entire being. Your body bucks and contorts involuntarily, your spine arching in a forceful, unnatural manner. The sudden surge of agony radiating through your chest intensifies, excruciating torment that claws at your very soul.

Within your mind, a cacophony of disoriented voices echo, their chants merging with Maxine's incantations in a chilling symphony of torture.

The onslaught tearing at you from the inside is overwhelming, each voice feeding the scorching intensity burning through every nerve in your body.

Lorraine, driven by a potent mix of anger and desperation, breaks free from Bobby-Lynn's magical restraints.

Every fiber of her being is channeled into a surge of strength and determination. With unyielding resolve, she forcefully breaks through the constraints, shattering the hold Bobby-Lynn had over her.

The moment she is free, her focus shifts entirely to you, her eyes filled with unwavering dedication.

The intensity you’re undergoing intensifies, the excruciating pain mounting with each passing second.

Your voice finally breaks free in a shrill, agonized scream, the sound echoing with the sheer distress and torment you're enduring. The pain sears through every nerve, threatening to overwhelm your senses.

Maxine casts a fleeting glance at Lorraine, a look of warning flashing in her eyes, but her focus remains firmly on the sinister ritual she's conducting.

It's clear that she's intent on seeing this through, regardless of the pain and suffering it inflicts upon you.

And that, just won’t do.

With a swift and forceful motion, Lorraine channels her energy, unleashing it upon Maxine. The impact sends Maxine staggering back, knocked away from your convulsing form.

The sudden release from Maxine's grip leaves you vulnerable and weak, your body collapsing helplessly to the ground near the roaring flames of the bonfire.

Lorraine, driven by desperation and determination, unleashes a barrage of blows on Maxine, throwing all her energy she has left into the effort.

Yet, despite the intensity of Lorraine's attacks, Maxine effortlessly deflects each one with an almost supernatural ease.

The deflected blows ricochet off Maxine like they are nothing, her focus unyielding and undisturbed. All the while, Lorraine desperately tries to reach your side, the urgency evident in her frantic movements.

As Maxine rises to her feet, Lorraine stands firm, poised and determined. The realization that she must face Maxine head-on settles within her, and she steels herself for the confrontation.

With unwavering resolve, Lorraine does everything in her power to divert Maxine's focus away from you. She deftly maneuvers, creating a dance-like exchange of attacks and dodges, all with the sole purpose of keeping Maxine's attention squarely on her. The air is thick with intensity as Lorraine fights, buying you precious moments.

And then, there’s a pause between them both, breathing raggedly and hands poised at the ready.

As a standoff commences, a palpable clash of wills fills the air. Maxine and Lorraine stand face to face, their expressions etched with unwavering determination.

Each woman's gaze is razor-sharp, their features reflecting a mixture of concentration and focus.

They circle each other cautiously, steadfast on the precipice of the battle continued where the stakes are both physical and supernatural.

The intense face-off between Maxine and Lorraine is suddenly interrupted by the resounding voice of Bobby-Lynn.

She interjects, her tone stern yet tinged with annoyance "Lorraine! This is so not you, it ain’t right!"

The unexpected intervention startles both women, their attention momentarily diverted. Bobby-Lynn steps forward, her expression a blend of disappointment and disbelief.

Lorraine's gaze flicks towards you, now being supported upright by Bobby-Lynn, being used almost like a human shield. The sight that confronts her sends a shiver of horror down her spine.

You stagger weakly, your eyes barely open and your body drenched in a sickening sea of crimson. The realization hits Lorraine like a ton of bricks; you're in far worse shape than she initially thought.

As she takes in the gravity of the situation, Lorraine's expression mirrors the churning nausea in her stomach. Her focus shifts sharply from Maxine to you, her concern escalating exponentially.

Bobby-Lynn, her mock sympathy reaching its peak, stretches her arm around you and seizes your face with false concern.

With a dramatic pout on her lips, she turns her gaze to Lorraine, taunting expression on her face, and utters, "you're really gonna give up everything — power, freedom, control — for this? C'mon now”.

Her words hang in the air, dripping with sarcasm and disdain as she questions Lorraine's loyalty and devotion, where it truly lies.

Lorraine, with a slow and deliberate motion, raises her hands in a gentle and non-threatening position.

Gathering her composure, she tries to plead a case “please, you don’t have to do this—“, only for Maxine to swiftly interject, emphasizing the importance of unity.

"Not so long ago, you were with us, Lorraine," Maxine reminds her, "not against us." The weight of their shared history hangs heavily in the air as Maxine's words echo through the clearing, challenging Lorraine's recent shift in allegiance.

As Lorraine's gaze shifts to Maxine, she observes the irritation and perplexity etched on her face. With a firm tone, Maxine points out the reality, saying, "Rooks left you, Lorraine. We were the ones who stood by you”.

Maxine's words hit home, reminding Lorraine of the contrasting support she had received. The mention of your return being facilitated by Maxine and Bobby-Lynn adds another layer to their argument, a reminder of the complexities of their relationships and loyalties.

Lorraine takes a momentary pause, the weight of memories and emotions tugging at her. Though she almost succumbs to feelings of doubt, the sight of you, weakened and bloodied, anchors her.

The deep-seated worry and love for you override any lingering confusion. Lorraine's resolve firms as she steels herself against the influences attempting to sway her.

With unwavering determination, Lorraine steadies herself, drawing strength from the unwavering loyalty you had shown by returning for her.

She looks to Maxine and Bobby-Lynn, her voice carrying a resolute undercurrent. "You may say Rooks left me," she says, a hint of defiance lacing her words “but Rooks came back. Even with no reason to stay after finding out the truth, yet did."

Lorraine's steadfastness in the face of doubt and conflicting loyalties shines through as she speaks up for your unwavering commitment and presence in her life.

Maxine and Bobby-Lynn exchange a quick, meaningful glance, an unspoken dialogue passing between them as a subtle understanding forms.

Amidst the tension, Bobby-Lynn holds you in her gentle yet firm grip, ensuring you don’t collapse. The weight of the situation hangs heavily in the air, the unspoken conversation between Maxine and Bobby-Lynn adding an air of anticipation as the power dynamics shift.

Bobby-Lynn turns her gaze to Lorraine, her mock innocence apparent in her eyes. "If it's Rooks' heart that you want…" she says slyly, a hint of mischief in her voice.

Her words carry a sharp edge, and Lorraine feels a pang of unease as they strike her deeply. The revelation of their true intentions sends shockwaves through her. It's a stark reminder of the treacherous nature of those she once trusted, leaving her in a state of vulnerability and uncertainty.

“…I’ll happily get it for you”.

As Bobby-Lynn's fingers splay out against your chest, the air in the clearing thick with tension, Lorraine's heart clenches in realization.

Fear floods her face, her eyes widening in horror as she processes the true intention behind Bobby-Lynn's actions.

With a sharp inhale, Lorraine screams your name as she instinctively rushes forward, her voice filled with terror and desperation.

"NO! No, please don’t!" she pleads, the panic evident in her voice.

The ground beneath and around the area of the bonfire suddenly starts to rumble and shake, causing Bobby-Lynn to lose her footing.

She lets go of you, momentarily distracted by the unexpected upheaval. The once still and stable earth heaves unsettlingly, causing them all to scramble to maintain balance, trying to steady against the tremors that rock the very foundation they stand upon.

And then, the ground splits open.

Lorraine instantly drops, hands splayed across the grass as if it could do anything to anchor her. Bobby-Lynn somehow manages to stay upright, nearly topping back into the bonfire behind her.

Maxine, having been standing close to where the newly formed gap in the ground is, barely manages to catch herself on the edge to prevent herself from falling in.

Her head hovers over the opening, the void below threatening to swallow her whole. The sudden ground shift has caused an unstable edge to form, putting Maxine in a precarious position as she struggles to regain her balance.

The violent shaking abruptly ceases, leaving the atmosphere charged with suspense. As Lorraine struggles to push herself upright, she looks up at the sound of a scream to see Maxine hurled forcefully backward, as if hit by an unseen and powerful force.

Maxine's body soars through the air, propelled in an unnatural arc that defies gravity. Lorraine gazes in shock and surprise at the unexpected spectacle unfolding before her eyes.

And when she lands, it’s hard, rolling back a few feet before coming to a halt.

She doesn’t get up, nor move at all.

As Bobby-Lynn swiftly moves to Maxine's side, concern etched across her face, she urgently calls out to her.

"Maxine! Maxine!" she exclaims, her voice tinged with worry. Meanwhile, Lorraine is presented with a brief window of opportunity.

She hastens to scramble on the ground, urgently making her way to your unconscious form, utilizing this momentary distraction to her advantage.

Lorraine's heart pounds in her chest as she rushes to you, panic coursing through her veins. The sight of your unconscious form, lying motionless on the ground, fills her with a sick feeling, a deep sense of dread gripping her.

She reaches you, gently lifting up your head and cradling you in her arms with an aching tenderness. Tears well up in her eyes as she takes in the extent of your injuries, her heart heavy with worry and fear.

“Stay with me, don’t you dare do nothin’ stupid now like die—“ she mutters, pressing her fingers against your neck and holding her breath, the amount of relief she feels when she finds a pulse is almost overwhelming.

Tears gather in Lorraine's eyes, her voice breaking as a broken sob escapes her lips. She holds you tenderly, her hand gently cradling your face, as if to protect you from further harm.

Her heart aches as she whispers words of reassurance to you, her voice low and shaky with emotions. "It's okay," she murmurs, her voice laced with tears and fear, “you're gonna to be alright. I'm here. I've got you."

Your eyelids flutter slightly as you struggle to fight off the exhaustion that threatens to overwhelm you. Despite your valiant effort to maintain your breath, the strain is evident on your face, your body clearly overwhelmed by fatigue and injury. Every breath seems labored, a battle against your own weakening body.

Lorraine's comforting words are interrupted by a sharp cry of pain, catching her attention and pulling it away from you.

Concern etched on her face, she turns to look in the direction of the cry, her eyes flickering between you and the commotion a few feet away from the bonfire.

The sequence of events unfold like a blur, with everything happening in rapid succession. Lorraine manages to catch a glimpse of the scene, witnessing Maxine's abrupt and stiff actions as she grabs Bobby-Lynn's face and slowly rises to her feet.

There's a sense of discomfort and unease in the way Maxine moves, something distinctly amiss in her unnatural stiffness.

Lorraine holds you close, shielding you from harm as she frantically scans the surrounding area, trying to find a way to extract you from this dangerous situation.

At the same time, she cannot tear her gaze away from the unfolding events a bit a ways from the bonfire, her mind racing with worry and uncertainty about what's about to transpire.

When Lorraine looks away for what is only a mere two seconds, her heart skips a beat at the horrifying sound that reaches her ears.

It's a sickening crunch, as if bone has met with something hard and unyielding.

This is followed by the distinct thud of something hitting the ground nearby. Her mind instantly reels at the sound, knowing instinctively that whatever happened was nothing good.

Lorraine's gaze slowly moves back to where Maxine and Bobby-Lynn were. Her eyes widen in horror when she sees Bobby-Lynn's motionless body lying on the ground at Maxine’s feet, her neck bent at an unnatural angle.

A wave of shock and revulsion washes over Lorraine as she takes in the gruesome sight. She instinctively tightens her hold on you, her heart racing with fear.

Maxine inhales deeply, her eyes closing with an unnerving focus. The peaceful silence of the moment is brutally interrupted as her head jerks backwards, her mouth opening to display a set of glistening, razor-sharp teeth that are distinctly non-human. Her entire countenance is transformed, taking on an eerie, otherworldly quality.

Maxine releases a bone-chilling shriek that reverberates through the night air, its pitch unlike anything ever heard before.

The sound is so unearthly and unnatural that it sends nearby birds hiding in the trees flying into the sky in a panicked flurry, their shrill caws adding to the already chaotic atmosphere.

The gears of Lorraine’s mind spin in a desperate attempt to process the situation and determine a course of action.

She fights to maintain her composure in the face of this supernatural onslaught, her determination ignited by the desperation to navigate through this nightmare-like reality.

The demon, now possessing Maxine's body, turns its gaze towards Lorraine and you, its demeanor chilling and menacing. Lorraine's heart races as she braces herself for whatever might happen next, her mind going through different scenarios and preparing for the worst.

In the dancing light cast by the flickering bonfire, Lorraine catches a glimpse of the demon's inky black eyes.

The scene is vividly unsettling, the flames casting an ominous glow over Maxine's possessed form, her once familiar features now marred by something sinister and otherworldly.

Lorraine holds you tightly, her heart pounding with fear and protectiveness. Her thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, a mixture of fear, determination, and guilt.

"Please, hold on," she whispers down to you, her voice quivering but firm. "I won't let anything happen to you. We'll get out of this, I promise."

She scans the surroundings again, desperately searching for an escape route or a way to defend you both against the malevolent force that now controls Maxine.

As her thoughts race and her mind whirs, Lorraine's focus is abruptly interrupted as the demon suddenly seems to pull back, retreating into the night.

The bonfire's flames cast an eerie, flickering light over the scene as it hurries away, its retreating form blending into the shadow of the treeline and vanishing into the darkness.

And just like that, it’s over just as quickly as it started.

The bonfire still burns, casting an uneasy, wavering light over the surroundings. The bodies of Bobby-Lynn as well as the butchered remains of the men, along with the way you lie motionless on the cold, hard ground — a silent testament to the violence that has just been unleashed upon.

The night air is brisk and cool, a sharp contrast to the heat of the bonfire behind her. Off in the distant trees, the familiar caw of a crow can be heard, its mournful cry eerily blending in with the desolate setting.

Lorraine stares off — stunned, at the fact the demon simply left, disappearing into the trees. She lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding, her heart still pounding furiously in her chest.

Her mind races, trying to process what just happened. She looks down at you, still unconscious and vulnerable in her arms, and feels a renewed sense of determination.

"It's gone," she whispers, more reassuring herself than anything.

"For now, it's gone."

____________________________________________

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeates throughout the kitchen, its rich and enticing scent filling the air.

Alongside this, the sizzle and pop of bacon cooking in a pan on the stove can be heard, creating a comforting and familiar background melody.

Lorraine stands by the stove, frying some bacon while occasionally glancing over her shoulder. The early morning light streams in from the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

Lorraine's face bears a mix of exhaustion and worry, her mind no doubt preoccupied with the chain of events from the last few days.

Finally the bacon is done, and Lorraine plates it, placing a few crispy strips on a dish already stacked with pancakes, and promptly turns off the stove.

She sighs, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a small sip. The caffeine is needed, as Lorraine had been up most of the night watching over you while you slept fitfully.

Not that she will ever complain.

Even when you sleep restlessly, she’s grateful to wake up from her own nightmares where she watches Bobby-Lynn rip your heart from your chest, only to find you sound asleep next to her.

Heart still beating.

Ever since that fateful night, yours and Lorraine's sleep has been restless and plagued by nightmares. It's not surprising; the trauma of what happened is still raw and fresh in both of your minds.

No thanks to her, which is a guilt she will carry with her indefinitely.

But for now, Lorraine thinks to herself, you're out of the hospital and away from the relentless questioning of the police has come to an end.

It's a small mercy in an otherwise turbulent situation.

Basically, you’ve both been house bound until the investigation is concluded, at least out here you aren’t being watched by everyone. Because unfortunately for Lorraine, her life happens to me right in the middle of town, so the manor was the only option.

You’d been against it heavily, but the scrutiny from the townsfolk eventually made you cave.

Lorraine grabs the plate of bacon and the steaming cup of coffee, balancing them carefully in her hands.

She then steps out of the kitchen and into the living room of the manor, maneuvering around familiar furniture and taking in the sight of the room she's already spent countless hours in.

As Lorraine walks through the room, she carefully navigates around the still half-packed boxes that litter the floors.

These boxes are now a forgotten sight, their contents unimportant compared to the bigger, more pressing issues at hand.

Lorraine moves past them all until she reaches the foyer, her steps a bit quicker now without obstacles as she heads up the stairs, humming a soft and soothing background melody that fills the air.

As she reaches the top, she veers to the right, deliberately avoiding looking in the direction of your Pops’ old study.

The sight of the door, now nailed shut and reinforced with a fancy lock, still brings shudders down her spine. The sacrilegious text that lies within will stay there, at least until you both figure out what to do with it, considering how burning the damn thing didn’t work.

You never did liked that room. She doesn’t blame you for it either, all things considered.

The energy seems to shift as Lorraine approaches the door leading out to the balcony patio area. A subtle change in the air, a stillness, as if the rest of the world is holding its breath. 

The atmosphere becomes more open, more inviting. The faint sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling carry on the breeze, a stark contrast to the cramped indoors.

As Lorraine steps through the open doorway, into the balcony area, she instinctively exhales, the relief almost tangible.

Lorraine's heart sinks as she glances over to see you, sitting at a small table nearby, turning to look at the sound of her footsteps.

The sight of the bandage still wrapped around your head serves as a reminder of the events that brought you both to where you are now. But despite this, she forces a soft smile onto her face, hiding the pang of worry she feels.

Lorraine approaches, softly greeting you with a whispered "hey."

She then sets down the plate filled with bacon and pancakes on the table in front of you, followed by the steaming cup of coffee.

Her movements are gentle, as if worried any wrong move might break the fragile equilibrium of the moment.

Your gaze follows Lorraine, tracking her every movement as she sinks into the seat next to you. There's an undeniable warmth and tenderness in your eyes, the adoration you feel for her written on your face. 

Your eyes linger on her face, taking in every feature as if committing it to memory. The softness in your expression belies the fear and trepidation still present in your heart, but your devotion and love for her remain unwavering.

The aftermath of the incident had left both you and Lorraine struggling to find solid ground. The days immediately following were a whirlwind of police questioning, doctors' visits, and general chaos.

It wasn't until a few days later, when the dust seemed to have settled, that the two of you were able to find a moment of relative calm to properly talk about everything that had happened.

During that time, it had been difficult to find the right timing and space to truly process your thoughts and emotions with everything else going on.

You’d somewhat touched on everything, or at least everything in regard to her role in it all, and she’d been completely honest.

For now, it was going to have to do.

The police had grilled you both for hours on end about the deaths that had occurred, demanding to know what happened.

You both had answered their questions as honestly as you could manage, but there were certain things — including Lorraine's initial involvement — that you both had deliberately omitted from your statements.

The police didn't need to know everything, especially not something that could potentially incriminate Lorraine further.

Following the incident, Maxine had gone missing, disappearing without a trace.

You had tried to explain that the situation was far more complex than the police believed, that there were supernatural forces at play.

Lorraine had backed you up on this, corroborating your tale, but the police had remained stubbornly skeptical. The idea of witchcraft or supernatural forces was too far-fetched for them to accept.

They believed you must be either delusional or outright lying.

Lorraine is pulled out of her thoughts as you dangle a piece of bacon in front of her face in a playful gesture. She quickly mirrors your smile, accepting the treat before biting into it.

"Thanks," she mumbles through a mouthful of bacon, a mixture of gratitude and amusement in her voice.

As you laugh, a small wince involuntarily escapes you, causing Lorraine to immediately sit bolt upright, concern etched across her face.

Sensing your discomfort, she gently places a hand on your shoulder, grounding you as your taut muscles instantly seem to ease at her touch.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice brimming with worry.

You're about to snap out a sarcastic reply, your usual defensive mechanism taking over. After all, you're not used to being pampered and cared for.

And there's still a sliver of resentment towards Lorraine, remembering her initial deception. But as your eyes meet hers, a soft understanding passes between you.

She did try to warn you, then set you free, saved your life, broke free from the malevolent manipulation that had a dark hold on her soul — all for you.

You fight down the snark, softening your tone as you respond “I'm fine”, albeit quietly.

Lorraine watches you closely, sensing the change in your demeanor. Her hand remains on your shoulder, a soothing presence in the midst of the myriad of emotions swirling through her.

"Are you sure that’s what you’re gonna go with this time?" she asks gently, her words laced with concern.

She knows you're hesitant to show weakness, to be vulnerable, but she's determined to be there for you, whether you like it or not.

You're about to respond, exhausted and worn out, when your words catch in your throat. Out of the blue, a familiar caw rings through the air, stealing your attention.

Your body tenses instinctively, muscles tightening in response to the sound.

It's a sound you know all too well.

Lorraine sits quietly, her gaze fixed on you, watching and waiting patiently. She's learned over time that pushing you never works, that you need space to process and speak your mind in your own way.

It's a habit she's grown accustomed to, waiting for you, but this time it's for a different reason.

Lorraine feels a sense of duty, a debt to you that she is eager to repay. She knows that your trust in her is fragile right now, and she's determined to earn it back, step by step.

You fix your gaze into the distance, a pensive look on your face, before muttering your thoughts aloud.

"I don't think accepting was a good idea," you speak softly, your words tinged with a hint of unease. Lorraine turns to look at you, her expression inquisitive, waiting for you to elaborate.

You shift your gaze to meet Lorraine's gaze, your brow furrowing in contemplation "I just think it’s weird," you begin, your words laced with skepticism, "how our case was picked up so fast by a stranger from across the country. Doesn't that seem a bit off to you? I mean — how does someone in New York catch wind of a Texas case?”

Lorraine gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze as she responds, her voice quiet and soothing.

"What matters is that someone does believe us, this someone is all we got" she starts, her words firm yet tender. "And if we get locked up..." She pauses, hesitating, not wanting to speak her next words aloud.

Right. And then there’s still that issue at hand.

You nod in agreement, understanding the gravity of the situation. You finish Lorraine's thought, your voice tinged with a mix of resignation and determination.

"That thing will still be out there," you state, the words hanging heavily in the air, “possessing Maxine, wreaking havoc."

That was also something you’d both somewhat touched on, the conversation wasn’t long, considering you both felt partially responsible for unleashing a demon out into the world.

And thus, you both felt it meant you’d have to be the ones to put it back.

Another loud caw interrupts your thoughts, the sound drawing your attention away once more. Lorraine, silently observing, simply watches you, her eyes never straying from your face.

After the caw fades into the distance, Lorraine speaks up, her voice soft and inquisitive, “they still call to you?”

You fall into a pondering, contemplative silence for a moment, your mind working through the implications of the caw.

Finally, you speak, murmuring quietly, "it's different this time," you brow furrows, voice low and thoughtful.

"It's not a warning, but it’s… a beckoning”.

Lorraine tilts her head slightly, her eyes fixed on your face, a quizzical expression on her face.

"What do you mean?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

In response, you look back at her and offer a shrug, a weary sigh escaping your lips. You're about to speak, your words tinged with a bit of optimism.

"I just hope this Detective can—"

But before you can finish, Lorraine interrupts you with a soft laugh, her tone tinged with amused affection as she playfully corrects you.

"You mean Private Investigator”.

Despite the gravity of the situation, a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you react to Lorraine's playful correction.

Her lightheartedness serves as a brief but welcome diversion from the grim reality you're facing.

For a moment, the weight of it all seems to lighten just a bit.

Your gazes hold each other for a moment, a silent connection passing between you. Her hand rests on your shoulder, a gentle yet grounding presence. A soft intimacy envelops the moment as you both share it together in the quiet solitude.

Despite the lingering feelings of betrayal and trust, beneath it all there's a love that remains.

Lorraine has become an integral part of your life, a constant presence in the chaos.

You may not have fully forgiven or trust her yet, but she's the only one you have, and that realization weighs heavily on you.

As if attuned to your thoughts, Lorraine suddenly asks gently, her voice tentative, "do you think you can find it in yourself to forgive me?"

The question lingers in the air, leaving a tension hanging in the space between you. It's a query that cuts right to the core of your feelings, forcing you to acknowledge and confront the pain inflicted by her actions.

Your response is tempered with a hint of playfulness, but there's a genuine warmth in your eyes as you speak.

"It might take some time," you reply, your voice low but affectionate. The corners of your mouth curl upwards in a slight smile, telegraphing a mixture of forgiveness and the lingering hurt beneath it.

Lorraine understands the nuances of your response, her hand gently moving from your shoulder to tenderly cup your face.

As she does, you instinctively lean into her palm, the simple gesture evoking a sense of comfort and security.

Lorraine's voice, soft and sincere, resonates in the air between you as she speaks.

"If you'll have me," she says, her words filled with determination, "I'll use every day as a means to make it up to you. To prove myself."

Your smile grows wider as you cover her hand with your own bandaged one. Your touch is gentle, yet firm, conveying a mixture of vulnerability and strength.

You turn your head, your lips brushing against her palm as you murmur softly, "maybe some day."

You take a moment to sort through the maelstrom of emotions and uncertainty that swirls within you. Amidst the confusion and hurt, there's a glimmer of hope.

You realize that despite the current chaos, you don't want to face it alone. You need Lorraine by your side, and that thought alone gives you a sense of comfort in this storm.

The path forward is uncertain, but having her with you, even if it's a work in progress, means the world to you.

There is still the demonic entity, lurking behind the chaos and the supernatural events that have unfolded.

You know that deep down, it's only a matter of time before it unleashes its destructive power upon the mortal world.

Despite the looming threat, you feel a sense of determination.

You know the reckoning is coming, but you're confident that when it does, both of you will be prepared to face it.

Together.

previous.

AN: thank you everyone who followed along with this series! As always, it’s been an honor, a pleasure, and a privilege.

————————————————————————

Tag List: @thatshyboy1998

[sunnysidesevenup]

Sometimes the reflection in the looking glass can get a little distorted, but I’m sure it’s still you!

Alright an actual explanation for this lol

I’ve been listening to Lydia the bard’s “I Only Paint In Red Now” over and over for the past week, which was inspiration for this little comic.

And while I know the whole “take someone’s hand” at the beginning of the game is mostly just a fun mechanic, I like the concept of Yuichi taking his own hand. Whether this is metaphorical, or some other being in disguise, or even a different version of himself is mostly up to interpretation for now.

I also have uh… a LOT of theories and ideas on the possibility of Yuu and Grim overblotting, which is definitely another inspiration for this. Because Yuichi is mostly meant to be closer to the Heartslabyul students and reflect their themes, I think an Alice inspired overblot for him would be appropriate. He’s not meant to be twisted from her, but he IS meant to borrow elements of her story. He’s written to take on an Alice type of story role—which is why I dressed this “other version” of him in her blue—the only difference is that this “Alice” very much wants to stay in Wonderland.

I just find writing him really fun, and I have a LOT of ideas and concepts for him. I’m having a blast.

[phant0mth1ef]

chapter 3: think we kissed but i forgot, last friday night.

the music was roaring, and yet you were making rounds around your house like you could never be more in your element than you currently were. a red solo cup was in your hand, its’ contents swishing around with each twist and turn you made.

in the corner sat a blonde haired pro hero, sulking. looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else than at your house. his hand also holding a red solo cup, although it was filled with water. after all, he still wanted to become number 1, and he couldn’t do that if he was publicly intoxicated.

he watched you, his eyes following your figure as you stopped at a table, taking shot after shot as your body moved with the music.

for someone who was so uptight, you knew how to let loose.

your relationship with the pro hero had been in the gossip magazines lately, and many photographers had captured him on his way to your house. ready to make the front page the next day.

the party was supposed to be a release party for your new album, and it wasn’t supposed to turn into a full blown rager, but eventually more and more people had heard about it.

“yo, bakugou!” a voice rang in his ears, separating itself from the blaring music coming out of the speakers.

“what’re you doing here, man? i didn’t think i’d ever catch you at a party! let alone a rager like this.” a smile was on kaminari’s face as he shined his pearly whites at bakugou, shot cup in his hand.

“hah?! she’s my girlfriend, dumb fuck.”

“whattt? since when?” it was obvious that kaminari had been drinking, his words slurred and his posture terrible.

you’d suddenly appeared in front of bakugou, smiling as you saw that he accepted your invitation and showed up.

“bakugou! you came!” you smiled ear to ear, oh you had no idea where you were as of right now.

“are you drunk?!” he stood up, pushing himself up using the armrests of the chair.

“just a bit, nothing too far gone.” you hiccuped, your red solo cup still full in your hand.

“after all, i can’t let videos of me in a drunken state get leaked to the press. how stupid d’ya think i am?” he wanted to believe you, he really did. but with the way your words were slurred and the way you were carrying yourself?

you’d grabbed his hand, leading him through the crowd as you made your way to the backyard, people playing beer pong waved to you both.

“where are we goin’?!” he grunted, his head on a swivel as you brought him to the fire pit.

“here!” you sat down, you were a completely different person when you were drunk.

so you both sat there, your head on his shoulder as the music blasted inside.

he’d usually tell you to fuck off, but you were in public. so he stayed, one of his arms around your waist.

the atmosphere was perfect, the music had toned down softly, and you were buzzed.

so you did what any person would do in the presence of dynamight, you sat up straight, looked him directly in the eyes.

and you kissed him. and he kissed you back.

for: @bakuettes