#THE FIRST USE OF THIS TAG (the crowd goes mild)

[okartichoke]

i lost 2 tennis balls so right now i only have 2 :((((

[suguann]

REDAMANCY—JOHN PRICE

✎. You tried not to grow feelings—you really did. Feelings make things complicated, but you can’t help it. | wc. 1k+

tags. fem!reader, getting together, strangers to fwb to lovers, mild smut [18+ only]

masterlist

“John, I…” You hesitate and allow your fear to get the best of you. “We’re friends, right?”

With his sweaty forehead pressed against your shoulder, a tangle of pointy knees and elbows, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stay. It’s never been about staying or soft-spoken words between the sheets, but things feel different from the first time he picked you out from the crowd in a bar and fucked you up against a dingy bathroom door.

Maybe it’s just you. 

The fluttering in your chest when John stops by your office at the clinic as soon as he makes it back to base, how he wraps his hand in your hair and kisses you in the entryway for everyone to see—two thick fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet as he peels your uniform out of the way to wrap his mouth around a nipple and cup you between your legs.

Perhaps it’s the softer things: a kiss on your forehead before he leaves, another souvenir from one of his missions on your bookshelf, flowers for the vase on your counter.

You tried not to grow feelings—you really did. Feelings make things complicated, but you can’t help it.

John’s just…John.

He’s quiet for a moment, then two, and you wish you could see his face until he nods, whiskers sending goosebumps across your shoulder blades. “Yeah. We’re friends.”

Somehow, you feel like you hadn’t said the right thing as he gets up and slips his jeans over his thighs—the taste of whiskey and cigarettes still on your tongue long after he’s gone.

You hadn’t believed him—still don’t.

Not when he rushes into the emergency room a few days later—some of his tactical gear still in place—right after you get into an accident, panic written all over his face. He glances at your torn scrubs and the bandages across your shoulder, assessing the damage. And when he finds that everything on the outside looks fine (or as fine as a few scrapes and bruises can be), his shoulders visibly relax—if only by a minuscule. 

This is your answer.

"It’s not as bad as it looks. You should see the other guy."

His mouth tilts ever so slightly, worry still etched across his features. "Is that right?" 

The nurse looking over your chart arches a brow at you, and heat blooms across your face, forgetting that you’re not the only two in the room. 

John clears his throat. “Could you give us a minute?”

She smirks. “Of course. If you need anything, I’ll be at the nurse’s station.”

Once the nurse leaves the room, it goes quiet. He slowly approaches the hospital bed like he doesn’t know what to say, picking up the clipboard the nurse left on your bedside table. 

“I was chasing my neighbor’s dog—Gizmo, you remember him; he likes chasing the mailman—when a moped knocked me out,” you tell him, the painkillers turning your thoughts into a tricolor ball of playdough. "Did you know I almost bought a moped once? I can't imagine why. Those things are a deathtrap with tiny wheels."

He makes a grunting noise in lieu of an actual answer.

You watch his eyes shift over your chart, thinking it’s now or never—

"Do you want to go on a date? With me?"

He glances up and stares at you with wide eyes. "Do you want to go on a date?" 

"Well, I…” You lick your lips, glancing wildly around the room. “You don't?"

"I just didn't think you'd want to."

"And why wouldn't I?"

"A number of reasons, actually. One, I'm older than you," he ticks it off like a grievance on his finger.

"So? That's never bothered me.” Then you smile. “Fucking older men is all the hype now, didn’t you know?"

John ignores you and holds up another finger. "And…"

"And what?"

He drags a hand over his mouth. "I, uh, well… I’m not good with relationships."

"That doesn't bother me either."

"It should."

"Why?"

"Because you're young.”

You roll your eyes. "You say that as if you're old. "

"Love, I am old. You can find someone better."

Love. You ignore how that makes your stomach flip pleasantly.

"You know, you play a poor devil's advocate. I’m already looking at the man I want."

He sighs, sitting at the edge of the bed with you. "Okay, let's play a game of what if." When you nod, he asks: "What if I took you on a date? Where would you like to go?"

"Hm,” you hum. “How about I tell you what I like?"

This makes him crack a smile. "That wasn't the question."

"I like music,” you tell him anyway. “Sometimes I like to go to the art district, even though I know nothing about art. I enjoy corny walks on the beach, and I don't mind flowers."

"I already know you like flowers."

“Then it should be easy.” Your lips twitch, thinking of the tulips he brought you the other night still sitting in your kitchen window. "And what if I said yes?"

"I'd say…” he sighs, reaching for your hand to delicately trace around your scratched knuckles with his thumb. “I’d pick you up from your place once you feel better. It'll probably be too cold for the beach, but maybe I’ll take you to this nice place Gaz mentioned a few weeks ago. Then I'd bring you back home,” his eyes trace over your bare collarbones and down to the top of your pants, “and make up for lost time."

You bite your lip, your heart fluttering wildly. Hopeful. Knowing it’s no longer a game.

(Was it ever? Maybe it was two people who never really knew how to find each other—who had to grow together.)

"So, it’s a date?"

“Yeah.” He kisses the back of your hand. "It's a date."

You wonder if you should get used to the pain in your cheeks from smiling so much—not that smiling from being happy is a terrible problem to have.

“Took you long enough to ask.”

“Took you long enough to say yes.”

[quixotical-lymbo]

OMG I LOVED YOU ORION PAX FIC (this bot needs more love) can you do an Orion pax x reader, but it’s the reader’s reaction to Orion falling in that hole thingy? (yk at the end of the movie that D-16 dropped him in) like does

1. the reader goes crazy and bets up D-16 ?

2. jumps in after him?

3. cries and says "HE WAS MY FUTURE"

I need to knowwwww (also take some food bc i know you cooking with your fics 🍎🥐🥯🍔🍗🍟🌯🌮) TYY

Pairing: Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: What happens when a bot witnesses their conjunx endura die in front of their eyes?  Warnings/Tags: Transformers One SPOILERS, guard!reader, cybertronian reader, mild descriptions of violence. Word Count: 1300+ words 

The first time you met Orion Pax was a blurry moment of rushing figures and yelling. This red and blue bot had a reputation, but you didn't know his designation at the time where you first started your job as a guard. 

Well, you certainly knew all about him, especially after your first run in with the troublemaker making his grand exit through a balcony. Of course, you just had to be making your rounds flying around the perimeter of the building when you were tackled out of the sky and pinned against the rooftop of the neighboring building. Groaning as the mech on top of you sputtered a flurry of apologies. The mech ran away without even offering a servo to help you up. 

The second time the two of you met, you learned his designation from the gossip about a miner always sneaking in and out of government buildings which held old records. You connected the name to the face of the mech you ran into again when patrolling indoors. 

It was…a unique exchange of pleasantries as Orion Pax attempted to sway you out of sounding the alarm. His attempts at distracting you with those flirty glances and sweet words did nothing to stop you from cuffing him and bringing him back to his station.

Over the deca-cycle, the interactions between you two grew warmer as the forced proximity bred an intimacy between you two. 

A conjunx ritus later and the two of you were an odd couple in the optics of Iacon. 

All because you managed to 'catch' the mech of who stole your spark. 

So why couldn't you save your conjunx when he needed you the most? 

It all happened too fast for your mind to react in time, but your frame moved before you could even scream the name out of your conjunx as his battered form dropped into the pit. You rushed forward, cables feeling like they were on fire as you reached a servo out in hopes of grabbing hold of something. Yet, you were too late and Orion was swallowed by the abyss right as something grasped your arms and yanked you away from the edge. 

You struggled to throw them off of you, blurred edges of your vision and the muffled shouts of your name didn't stop you from trying to fly down there—it didn't matter whether or not your spark would extinguish in the process. All that mattered was finding Orion Pax, your best friend, your companion, your everything. 

A voice heavy with grief managed to snap you out of your haze. You glanced over to meet Elita's optics, her face twisted with a pitying look that nearly sent you over the edge–metaphorically and literally. 

"The age of primes has ended....no more false prophets, follow me and you will never again be deceived!"

Cheers broke out from the high guards scattered within the shocked crowd of Iacon's citizens. 

"I will lead us all into the future!" Megatron opened his chassis and replaced the cog in his chest with Megatronus's cog. Purple electrical sparks emitted from his frame as his body transformed into a bulkier form.

"I…am…MEGATRON!" 

"Burn it down…all of it!"

Shots fired from the crowd as Megatron began shooting at the Sentinel statue and the structures surrounding it. 

 

"He's going to kill everyone." 

"We have to stop him-" Elita-1 was cut off as your form rushed past her and headed for the silver mech. Bee and Elita-1 glanced at each other before nodding and hastening after you. 

As Megatron continued shooting his cannon, a pede slammed into the side of his helm knocking him onto his knees. Megatron whipped around to find your fist heading toward his faceplate, he dodged and managed to grab your wrist in time to swing you around like a rag doll. 

Despite having a cog all this time, your frame was still shorter compared to Megatron's—but that didn't make you any less of a fighter. 

"You took him away from me! Your own best friend!" You bellowed and wrapped your legs around his arm to twist out of his grip. You swung your body weight to shift behind him and pummel him in punches. 

"He was your friend! My conjunx…my future….mine!" You grunted as Megatron ripped you off and threw you away. You rolled onto your servos and knees before jumping aside before the energy blast could hit you. The weight of losing Orion hit you all at once as you realized you had just rolled near the place where D-16…Megatron had dropped him. Your optics dimmed as your vision blurred from the rising dust and smoke. Your helm dropped and you couldn't see the massive cannon pointing at your pathetic form. 

"I took down the only thing standing in my way," Megatron sneered. The purr of his weapon charging up became a roar as the light within readied to snuff your spark. "And now? I will make sure you join him along with the rest who stand against me." 

"Not if we have anything to do about that!" Elita-1 charged in and snatched the cannon in time to redirect the shot elsewhere. 

A fight ensued and a multitude of thoughts ran through your processor. Your distraught and grief melded your frame into the floor. The noises and smell of destruction around you all blurred into one as you curled into a ball, wishing to disappear into the same abyss your conjunx had dropped in. 

After all, why continue this seemingly never ending cycle of injustice without the bot who made life worth living? 

No, Orion wouldn't have wanted you to think that way. Nor would have sat there wallowing in his own misery if your spark had stopped beating. He would've fought for you and you…will do the same.

Slamming your clenched servos into the ground you shot up and barreled toward the fight. Snarling as you drew closer and pounced onto Megatron just as he kicked Bee away. Before anyone on the tower could react, something exploded a piece of it and shot up into the sky. 

 

Amidst the chaos, you, Bee, and Elita-1 slid off the dome and landed on the lower platform again. 

Snapping your gaze up you found an familiar yet strange mech donning a similar color scheme to Orion standing before Megatron. 

 

"It can't be…" Bee began.

"It is." Elita-1 finished with wide optics. 

"Orion?" You whispered. 

 

He was alive. Alive. 

 

He was…different. 

 

…he wasn't dead and that's the important part. 

When all was said and done, Megatron was banished from Iacon and Energon returned to Cybertron, cogs being returned to the cogless citizens, you were finally able to have a moment alone with your conjunx now named Optimus Prime. 

His optics shone brightly as they landed on your faceplate. He turned to you fully and stretched his arm to reach you. You eagerly leaned into the palm of his servo, cheek pressing against the warmth of his hold on you. The faint hum of his spark calmed the raging storm within you, allowing your tense cables to ease up. 

"You've…changed." You sighed as you blinked back the liquid in your optics. 

"...so have you," Optimus craned his helm down to hold your gaze. "Come, we have a lot of things to discuss." 

You interlocked your digits with his, reluctant to drift away from him, but his softening gaze and even softer words persuaded you to let go. 

Trailing after the three but sticking close to Optimus's side, you nearly tripped over your own pedes as you felt the weight of his love through the bond. Keeping your expression neutral, you smiled inwardly and returned his affections tenfold. 

Primus, you were happy he was alive. 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banner(s) by @enchanthings !!

[nebulousbrainsoup]

Hard hours, you say? 😈

I am usually not so bold with requests. And it's quite early. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ But they got me acting up with this comeback. Specifically, Mr. Song Mingi. Just so damn disrespectful. I can't even function. 🫨

Anywhoooo. Pretty please, may I request crossing paths with sharp shooter Mingi at a bar?

You're the best and I hope all goes smoothly with your health appointments. *hugs* 🫰🏿⛰️💜

no YOU'RE the best noona 🥺 💛 the health appointments are health appointmenting in true us healthcare fashion 🤪 but I just got the first scan scheduled so there's progress!! hugs 🫂 🫰🏼sorry this took forever, my body decided it needed more than 4 hours of sleep lmaO

ANYWAY mingi has also been wrecking the absolute HELL out of me too, and he knows what he's doing to us. all the outfits??? the energy his bringing??? and i've been having so so many thoughts about the body roll in the mv like. sir that was FOUL. got me thinkin about those hips 😵‍💫 plus the "You could be my doll" line in Dune????? hello????? let's add him to the EVOLVEverse crew, shall we?

lil bit of crack at the end sorry i HAD to

masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee? | divs from @cafekitsune

smut & warnings below the cut, 18+ enjoy & minors don't touch :)

tags/warnings: fem!reader, outlaw!mingi, sharpshooter!mingi, ft. 2ho, pwp, no use of y/n, language as always, mild alcohol use, gun (singular), i know he's our soft boy but he's quite ominous, use of pet names (doll, baby, slut), slight dom!mingi, i'm on my big dick mingi agenda, semi-public sex (empty bar), oral (f!receiving), fingering, slight overstim, unprotected sex (crowd booing), lil bit of objectification & degradation, unedited

The first thing that caught your eye was whatever was spray painted over the WANTED posters outside; some amalgamation of an 'X' and a 'Z' covering the faces of Night City's infamous rebels. You scoffed, shaking your head softly. They'd be fixed in the morning, so why waste the paint?

The second thing that set you on edge was the music. Usually, on a Friday night, your favorite bar was packed to the brim with people, catching end of week drinks with coworkers, meeting with dates they'd never see again, or partying with friends. The music was barely audible inside on the slowest of weekends, much less outside the main doors. Anxiety roiled in your gut, but you continued on your path, cautiously pushing past them.

Only one man stood in the otherwise empty tavern, his eyes snapping up from the drink he was making to zero in on you, and your heart leapt into your throat. There was something dangerous about his gaze and that familiar silhouette, and you froze in place as your brain scrambled to piece the puzzle together. His lips twitched up in a smirk and, once he had put the finishing touches on his drink, he shifted to the side, revealing the WANTED poster hanging behind the bar and the rifle strapped to his back.

Fuck. You were so screwed. You took a step backward, ready to turn on your heel and bolt, forgetting you ever saw Song Mingi or knew the location of this little bar. He turned back to you, seemingly sensing your want to flee, and narrowed his eyes.

"I wouldn't," he muttered, and your feet rooted to the spot.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you stared back at him, the silence stretching to an uncomfortable level, until you finally found your voice to break it.

"W-What did you do to them?"

He tilted his head. "To who?"

"The..." you trailed off motioning around the empty bar. "Everyone. There had to be people here."

He nodded, sipping his cocktail, completely unbothered. "There were." You blinked at him, annoyance building, and gestured for him to continue. He sighed, slinging the rifle off of his back and setting it on the bartop. "When you bring one of these into a packed place like this, folks tend to scatter."

"And you let them?" He nodded. "Aren't they going to call the cops on you or something?"

Mingi snorted a laugh, downing his drink before making his way around the bar to stand in front of you. "Do I look worried to you, doll?"

You swallowed thickly, shaking your head. "C-Can I go too, then?"

He took a step back, eyes raking over you, and you felt heat flush through your body. "You could always stay for a drink. That's what you came for, isn't it?" Despite your mind's protests, you nodded. "Then have a drink with me, and tell me what a pretty thing like you is doing frequenting a place like this."

---

This was wrong, so unbelievably wrong. You should have never come in here. But you had, and now here you were, the hand of a wanted criminal resting on your thigh as your eyes darting frantically between his own and his lips. Maybe you could blame your impressive lack of restraint on the adrenaline drop you were facing, or the fact that none of this really felt real, anyway. Whether he sensed or saw your internal struggle, you weren't sure, but Mingi's hand shifted off of your thigh, catching your chin between his fingers.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You didn't know what came over you, but in an instant, you had tugged him in, slotting his lips against your own. He groaned lowly, tongue quickly swiping over your lower lip and slotting against your own as you let out a sigh. He stood from his stool and dragged you up with him, pressing your back against the bar so he could slot one of his thick thighs between your own. You whined, letting your head roll back, and once your lips parted, he let out a soft chuckle.

"Well, that's not what I was expecting, but I can't say I'm complaining."

Immediately, you wanted to wipe the proud grin off of his face, but before you could snap back at him, his lips were on yours once more.

---

Your moans echoed off of the vaulted ceilings, the music once again barely audible underneath them. Mingi was on his knees in front of you, his tongue working magic over your core and two of his thick fingers pumping in and out of you, the slick sounds adding to the symphony echoing around you. You tugged at his hair, the unending pleasure beginning to become too much as you neared your second climax, halfway between tugging him closer and pushing him away.

"M-Mingi," you whimpered, and he groaned against you, eyes blinking open slowly. "I can't, 's too quick, ha!" You jolted, grasping at the bar under you as he sucked at your clit again, another of his fingers prodding at your hole.

"One more for me, doll," he purred, slowing his pace to press inside of you. "Gotta make sure you can take my cock.

"'S too much, Mingi," you muttered halfheartedly, his name turning into a needy moan as his mouth returned to you, tongue soothing the sting of the stretch his fingers brought.

He allowed you a moment to adjust, his lips pressing a kiss to your clit and pulling a quiet sigh from you. This was a sight he could get used to, he thought, your blissed out face above him and your thighs tossed over his shoulders. His cock twitched in his too tight pants, and he groaned against you, the sensation sending your hips bucking toward him, and within moments he had picked back up his relentless pace.

---

The bliss when he finally pressed his thick cock into you was like nothing you'd ever experienced. Your lips were parted in a silent scream, only stilted, broken noises of pleasure leaving you. He chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest and felt through your back as he leaned over you, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. The bar had proven slightly too high for even his tall stature, so he'd spun you around, bending you over a nearby table. Initially, you had protested, offering to brace yourself where you had already been standing if it meant getting his dick in you sooner, but as quickly as your thighs had begun shaking, you were glad he had taken the lead.

"S-So much," you gasped out, melting underneath him.

"Now you see why I needed to prep you so much? I don't like breaking my toys on the first use, baby." The whine that left you as he pressed in further, his words amplifying your pleasure, pulled another chuckle from him, and he ran a soothing hand over your spine. "Think about how full you're gonna feel here in a minute."

You squirmed, hips canting back toward his own, and the hand on your back shoved you into the table. "Mingi, need more. Need all of you."

"You sure you can take it, doll? You're only a little over halfway there."

You let out a frustrated groan and wiggled your hips again, twisting as well as you could to face him. "Yes, dammit. Split me open if you have to, just give me your cock."

He sneered, the hand on your back snapping up to your shoulder, clamping down to yank you back on his cock as he slammed his hips into your own. A scream ripped from your throat and you grasped at the edge of the table, your breath coming in ragged bursts and your vision going white for a moment. When it cleared again, he was running his thumb soothingly over the nape of your neck, shushing you quietly.

"See why I wanted you to be patient, baby? Hurts when you're not ready for it, huh?"

You groaned, body going lax against the table. "Hurts s' good, Min. Wanna... More," you babbled, eyes slipping shut. "Ruin me."

He clicked his tongue, smile audible. "Cock drunk for me already, huh? What a good little slut. Take what I give you nicely then, okay?"

You nodded eagerly, and at your confirmation, he set into a brutal pace. You clawed at the table frantically for anything to ground yourself against as he bent over you, lips pressed to your ear. Every grunt and growl had shivers lighting down your spine, your walls fluttering around him as heat coiled in your gut.

He had brought you to two climaxes already, watched you beg and moan for him, and from the moment he was sheathed in your tight heat, Mingi knew he wouldn't last long. He told you as much when he braced himself over you, breathing the words into your ear as he nipped at the lobe. You whimpered, shifting under him to reach for your swollen clit and letting him drape one of your knees over his arm for better access. The shift in angle had you crying out as his cockhead began to drag over your sweet spot, your pleasure amplifying tenfold.

He had no warning before you were clamping down on him hard, your orgasm triggering his own, his hips stilling with how tightly your walls gripped him. A broken groan fell from his lips as your cunt milked him for all he was worth, your own whimpers melding with it, body going limp and eyes sliding shut. When you both came back into your bodies, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and slowly pulled out of you. You bit back a pitiful noise at the loss of his warmth, slowly propping yourself up on your forearms as he reached for something to clean you both with.

For the second time that night, your heart jumped into your throat as your eyes fell on the two men standing by the doors, still rattling shut behind them. Just beyond it, you could see the familiar outline of a car, its roof topped with a light bar. The taller of them had an unimpressed look focused on your companion, while the shorter of the two was staring, wide-eyed, at you spread out on the table, his ears flushing and eyes turning to the floor the moment you caught him looking. Scrambling to put yourself back together, you opened your mouth to speak, but the taller one beat you to it, clearing his throat. Mingi spun, eyes wide for a moment as he took in the two cops, before he broke out into a grin.

"Perfect timing. Yunho, Jongho, this is... Shit, what did you say your name was?"

Your eyes went wide as the two newcomers groaned, rolling their eyes heartily. "Seriously? You're the worst," the younger one sighed, pushing the doors open and making his way back out to the car. Shaking his head, the other one quickly followed.

"See? No need to worry about the cops."

You blinked, glancing rapidly between Mingi and the door. "What the fuck?"

© June 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.

[ladytauria]

31. “You lied to me.” how bout some DickTim? or BruDick?

i went with dicktim!

i was going to go angsty with this--really, i was--but nothing i tried was working. and then... well. i got the idea of going smutty. so~ here u go!

tags/content warnings: trans tim drake, crossdressing, public sex, fear of getting caught, mild exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, dom/sub undertones, dom dick grayson, sub tim drake

i only gave this one a cursory proofread so apologies for any mistakes! i will be back to correct them later <3

Tim’s back hits the wall. Dick follows a millisecond later, crowding Tim against it. Tim’s hands come up to rest on his chest; his skirt ruching up his thighs, Dick’s hands hot on his skin, his mouth moving hungrily over Tim’s jaw.

“You lied to me,” Dick breathes into his ear. Tim shivers, toes curling in his heels.

“D-dick. Someone could see,” he hisses, ignoring the frisson of heat that goes through him at the thought.

Dick bites him; a quick, punishing thing that makes Tim have to bite his cheek to stifle his moan. “You should have thought about that earlier. Before you lied,” he says, voice almost a growl. He pulls aside Tim’s panties, tracing the seam of his cunt with two fingers, coating them in slick.

“A-ah~” Tim’s hips twitch. “I—nn. Fuck, can’t we talk about this?” he asks—pleads, actually, in a voice too high and breathy to be his.

“You had your chance to talk.” Tim’s head knocks against the wall; biting his lip so hard he tastes blood as Dick traces his swollen cock with his index finger. It’s been begging for attention all night, though this isn’t exactly how Tim pictured getting it.

“Dick—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence; cut off as Dick’s middle finger pushes into him. He clenches around it hungrily, unable to stop his soft whine.

Dick’s mouth is hot and wet on his neck, sucking marks far too high up for him to hide. He’d swat him, but he can’t seem to loosen his grip on Dick’s lapels.

A second finger joins the first, and then a third right after. Tim feels hot, hot, hot. Sweat beads on the back of his neck. His throat feels dry. Dick’s thumb brushes over Tim’s dick, and Tim twists, gasping.

Footsteps sound in the distance—drifting closer, closer. Dick doesn’t stop. If anything, his touches seem to grow more urgent, fingers curling inside Tim in a way that makes his leg jerk. He barely stops his heel from smacking the ground.

He can hear the soft hum of voices. If he strained—if he had the presence of mind to understand—he could probably make out what they were saying.

Dick’s hand wraps around Tim’s thigh, lifting his leg to wrap around his waist. Tim’s folds seem to part further, welcoming Dick’s fingers deeper. He wrenches his hand from Dick’s jacket, shoving his knuckles in his mouth, biting down. Thank god for setting spray, or his makeup would be a fucking mess.

For a second he wonders what would happen if those footsteps drew even closer still—the picture they would see. Tim pressed up against the wall, face flushed, hair a mess, the pale line of his leg stark against the black of Dick’s tux, dress rucked up high enough to expose the deep Nightwing blue of his lingerie.

The scandal they would cause.

It makes him clench again; eyes falling shut, focus devoted entirely to swallowing back his cries. Dick doesn’t help at all. Doesn’t bother to silence him with a kiss, isn’t even kind enough to pull away from his neck. Instead he’s sucking more marks, now at the junction of his shoulder.

The footsteps draw away again, taking the chatter with it.

Tension drains from him, relief just beating out his disappointment.

Dick doesn’t hesitate to use that to his advantage; two fingers curling inside of him while his thumb and forefinger wrap around his dick and stroke.

Tim comes with a high, whimpering sort of sound, whole body shuddering; slick flooding Dick’s hand.

When Tim’s muscles loosen, Dick pulls back to look down at him. He withdraws his hand, ignoring Tim’s whimper, and offers Tim his slick fingers. Tim suckles them obediently, the taste of himself only stoking the dying embers in his belly as he blinks the stars from his eyes.

There’s a smirk on Dick’s face as he rakes his eyes over Tim’s disheveled form. He clicks his tongue. “You’re a mess, baby. Looks like we’re going to be ducking out of the party early tonight.”

Tim whimpers; sucking a little harder on Dick’s fingers.

“Aw, don’t be like that, sweetheart.” Dick ghosts a kiss over Tim’s cheek, just below his ear. He takes his fingers from Tim’s mouth, wiping them carelessly on the back of his slacks. “We’ve just got such pressing business to deal with at home.” He squeezes Tim’s ass, rocking his hips forward to drag the hard length of his cock against Tim’s cunt.

Tim’s thighs clench, belly tightening, arousal building again. Fuck. When he’d invited Dick to play with him tonight, he hadn’t expected this.

He wasn’t against it, though.

Not at all.

Dick pulls his panties back into place, smoothing his dress back over his thighs. “C’mon,” he says, tugging Tim forward on shaky legs. “I hope you’re ready to spend a lot of time on your knees tonight, baby. I expect a very thorough apology when we get home.”

Tim shudders.

As if he would give him anything less.

Though... defiance does have a certain appeal...

[highlordofkrypton]

CHAPTER 3 SUMMARY

Lilith and Asmodea cross paths with Illyrian lords at the Windhaven market. For one of them, this goes according to plan and for the other... a nightmare unfolds.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Trust the process, ya'll. We're cooking, we're COOKING! Also, this chapter contains unwanted touching which can be considered as SA (mild, very brief).

TAGS: @achaotichuman @amalhe-kofee @watcherintheweyr @darah-g @thrumbolt

READ BELOW THE CUT OR ON AO3.

Windhaven is the closest settlement to a city or a capital among her people. Warlords from near and far cross through here, though all are of Illyrian nature. It boasts only a handful of solid structures, including the halfway house for the orphaned girls who are unwanted until they come of age. The rest of it are tents made of supple fabrics for the summer with inlets that allow for the weaving of leathers and furs during the colder months. The largest tents are owned by the most important members of her people, the strongest of warriors, and the smaller ones are communal tents shared by less... important members of their people.

“Stop fidgeting,” Asmodea reprimands.

“No. If they’re going to stare, I’ll put on a show.”

“You forget that your strangeness makes you endearing.”

“Ugh,” Lilith groans and stops walking in her worst Illyrian warrior mimicry. “Let’s just— oof.” She walks straight into her sister, nearly headbutting the tuft of black rich black curls Asmodea is known for. She makes an uncouth ‘ pft, pft ’ sound to free her mouth of errand strands. “ What is going on with you?”

Asmodea turns to her, a flush on her ochre cheeks. “He’s coming this way!” She hisses beneath her breath. 

“Who?” Lilith tips her head to look behind her. Her eyes widen and she grabs Asmodea’s wrist to take her away, but Asmodea resists. “ What are you doing?”

“He’s already seen us! It will be insulting to run away.”

“Are you sure it’s not the fact that you don’t want to run away?”

“ Teuta sis,” comes the low rumble of an Illyrian lord. My people. My sisters. 

“ Teuta bra, ” Asmodea says softly, keeping her eyes downcast and her head bowed. Lilith does not reciprocate, looking the warlord directly in the eyes and willing to face the consequences.

Lord Bato is a slender man, unfitting for a man of his rank. The Lords of the Dardani earn their titles through bloodbath. They must first earn their warrior’s title in the Blood Rite—while the females lose their wings, the males earn theirs—and only a Carynthian may eventually ascend to lord. (If only they could all fight for that chance. If she could show them how she fights to survive, only then would she accept the consequences of her failure.) They say that though Bato is small, his mind is cunning and for cunning to outweigh so much raw power, Lilith can only imagine the things he is willing to do.

He looks upon her with a cocked brow, curious that a little thing like her would dare meet his eyes. A smile blooms on his handsome features, and it sends a shiver down her spine. She thinks to ask him what amuses him so when she feels the warmth of someone pressed up against her wings, locking them to her back. A strong arm wraps around her waist, forcing her to bend and the pressure of it makes her feel ill, especially so soon after taking her concoction. 

Lilith is forced into submission when a hand buries itself in her dark hair, leaving her no choice but to look down. The position is humiliating, bringing fire to her cheeks as her hips are pressed against… against—

“I can smell you ripening.” 

No, no, no!

As soon as she starts to struggle, Lilith is released. She nearly barrels forward into her sister and the other lord. The more she fights, the worse it is, and she can already feel the crowd assembling around them. Lilith keeps her eyes down this time, not wanting to meet the eyes of her very personal nightmare.

“ Teutan Dardani,” she says, urging her voice to be steady and calm. Those around her repeat the words. King of the Dardani people.

King Brykos grunts, and the village resumes its regular hustle. The crowd is freed, but not her. He pulls her to him again roughly, planting her at his side and strokes her cheek as he speaks to his lesser.

“Does that one interest you?”

Lilith’s heart kicks up, and she wonders if they all can hear it. It’s one thing to be given to a warrior after the clipping, there’s a chance to find a kind partner who would be willing to see past their use. It’s another to catch a lord’s interest. They have no time to care for people. Victories and bloodshed are more important. Asmodea will be forgotten while her husband ploughs through the battlefield.

“I have never seen anyone as lovely as she.” The smile can be heard in Lord Bato’s voice, and Lilith can see the way Asmodea shifts shyly. 

No.

“You should be honoured. They say the fruit is much sweeter once it has had time to mature. Claim her before another tries to.”

“And I will wait as long as she wants me to, if she will have me at all.” 

Lord Bato’s words are kind and sweet, the opposite of the King’s. Still, Lilith does not trust any of them. These lords and Kings choose to uphold a system that benefits only them—a system that is not part of their culture. Lilith has seen members of the Autariatae, the few who do choose to leave their recluse village high up in the mountains, and has encountered them on her flights. Their women are free to rule alongside the men. She has heard of the mythical Ardiaei, a seaside tribe long rumoured to be extinct, who worshipped the goddess of the sea along with the goddess of the sun. Their mightiest seafarers and naval commanders were female. 

Only the Dardani who have allied themselves with the High Faeries have adopted these practices and for what. What changed with the arrivals of the High Fae? Did they demand this of her people? Or was it Brykos himself and his twisted pleasures that he inflicts upon his entire people? Before him, there was no King, only lords.

“You do not need to be so charming. They will spread their legs for you regardless. I much prefer it when they fight.” King Brykos’ rough fingers clasp around Lilith’s chin and wrench her head towards him. “Isn't it right, my sweet?”

Lilith keeps looking away, even if it pains her. She will not show fear, and she will not acknowledge him. 

“I cannot wait to have you.” 

King Brykos licks a long stripe along Lilith’s cheek before tossing her to the ground. She waits for the couple heartbeats it takes for him to disappear in the crowd of the morning market and vomits her breakfast into the dirt. She can hear Asmodea apologizing to Lord Bato on her behalf, and her gentle hands are helping Lilith up.

“His Highness seems to have taken to you.” The Lord chooses his words carefully. 

“Lilith challenged him when she was a girl, and she has been paying for her discretion ever since.”

Bato laughs as he helps yank Lilith to her feet, none too kindly. “As you should. If you run your mouth, you should be able to follow through. These are the consequences of your own actions.”

Lilith flinches, pulling her arm away, feeling betrayed by the sudden… bluntness. This is a lord who wants Asmodea, yet he does not understand their plight. She can’t trust him, not with the only person in the world who matters to her.

“Come. We have things to do.” Lilith laces her fingers with Asmodea’s and pulls her along. 

Asmodea manages a quick bow, and glance, at towards the young war-lord before scurrying along behind Lilith. The two girls lose themselves in the crowd, pushing past the buyers standing at open stalls who haggle for the best prices. The shouting is drowned out by Lilith’s own hammering fear. 

“Lilith, will you slow down?”

“No.”

“You’re going to walk us right out of Windhaven!”

“And would that be a bad thing?!” 

Asmodea frees her hand from Lilith’s painful grip and stares at her sister. “Yes! You are the one who told King Brykos he would never have you. You are the one who keeps fighting the order of things. You might be able to survive out there, but I cannot.”

“Az, he is going to use you and abandon you. He is a warlord. There is nothing more important than the blood he spills and the males you bear. We are not a people anymore. We are… pieces of an army for a High Lord that might not even exist. Brykos calls himself king, but he still has a master and his resentment trickles down to us. There are other tribes. Other Courts that may be more tolerant. We can leave, Az.”

Asmodea steps back.

“No, Lils. You��can. You’re afraid of the clipping, and I am too, but I am more afraid of what’s out there. I do not want to spend my life running. I would rather be abandoned in a warm tent, knowing where my next meal will come from, and giving my love to a little one for as long as I can, than die of hunger and cold.”

This can’t be right. Lilith watches her sister, fists clenched and sorrow swirling in her mind. They have always done things together. Most things. She does not remember a time where she has been without her friend-turned-sister. Loneliness threatens to swallow her whole.

“Az—”

“The answer is no.”

Tears sting her eyes, worse than when she had refused to look at Brykos. Lilith blinks them away, and exhales a shuddered breath. There is nothing she can do, except accept what Asmodea wants for her future. “Fine.”

Asmodea approaches Lilith. She takes her hands once more and holds them against her chest. “Look at the bright side, Lils. This means there will be no clipping ceremony in the square, and Lord Bato is kind. Perhaps he can strike a deal with King Brykos and we can stay together.”

“Just… Think about this a bit, Az.” 

“I have. I’ve liked him for a long time.”

“And you’re sure?”

“Even if I wasn’t. This is my only chance.”

[skateboreds]

A Slice of Orange

chp. 3

*FKA The Orange Slice*

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: The most dangerous man in town has been staring at you nonstop, but keeps his distance until the night he walks you home...

tags: smut, medium burn, sexy stuff starts in chp.3, age difference, M/F, a lot of goddamn eye contact that turns into porn, porn w plot, zaddy joel, hand/finger kink, praise kink, mild blood in later chps, TLOU pt.II, NO Y/N

notes: Set at the beginning of The Last of Us Part II when Joel and Ellie live in the Jackson, Wyoming community, a few years after TLOU part I. Deviates from canon apart from that. Characterizations based mostly on the first game.

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45087460/chapters/113424721#workskin

CHAPTER THREE

Joel leads you from the hall, and you feel the looks from his family following you both to the entry way. 

Are you embarrassing him? A girl half his age coming onto him in front of everyone? Is he walking you home to get it all to stop? So no one thinks he would actually be interested? To let you down easy without a crowd watching?

You feel empty and shaky and grab your coat, fumbling to slide it on. Joel holds the door open and the sudden chill of the night smacks you as you step out onto the road with him. The moon hangs low and oblong in the sky and a soft snow is beginning to fall. The streets are dark now, most of the lights off.

The quiet and cool night helps to clear your head and you hug your arms to yourself as you suck in several breaths, the air sharp and clean.

It doesn’t matter. So, he doesn’t feel the same way. You’ll survive this like you survive everything else. Let him walk you home, let him tell you he isn’t interested. It doesn’t matter. Just enjoy the walk with him before he goes.

You turn to him and see him watching you, waiting for your cue. He seems like he wants to ask you if you’re okay but can’t find the words. The idea of him pitying you makes you want to rip your skin off. You need to get him to stop looking at you like you’re wounded.

“Lead the way” you say, diffusing the moment, “You know where I live, after all.”

To that Joel smiles, slightly abashed, but turns right, heading into the velvety night. You sigh in relief at join in step besides him, walking in silence for a while. The streets wind before you as you flick your eyes to Joel, as subtly as you can. Snow has started to collect on his salt and pepper hair, a few on his eyelashes, framing those unnervingly sweet-shaped eyes. Stoically, he surveys the surroundings, his massive frame graceful as he strides forwards, confidence so clear in how he holds his shoulders. You feel yourself shift to mirror the way he walks, to try and emulate that same presence.

He hasn’t moved his eyes away from the path before you, but you see a smile tug at his lips in response.

You snap your head forward, embarrassed. Wanting to divert the focus away from your heating face you decide to bring up something that might embarrass him for a change.

“Can I ask you something?” you say boldly.

He stays silent as you both near the mouth of an alleyway leading to your side of town, a shortcut, but he finally turns his head towards you, indicating his attention.

“How…do you know where I live?”

He coughs and then laughs awkwardly at this, the hint of bashfulness returning.

“I suppose I should have expected that.”

“Are you stalking me?” you ask teasingly, expecting a quick response. 

A moment passes but Joel is silent. You inspect his face, wary and unsure.

Holy shit.

“Are you??” you ask, halting your walk, stopping just as you both enter the alley.

“No! I-I’m not. I just…have seen you go there before. And I figured, that…” Joel says stopping too.

“You’ve seen me go there.” you say, repeating the information.

“I’m not-I haven’t. I just…” he trails off.

This is the first time you’ve ever heard Joel stutter, stumble over his words. The first time he’s ever seemed uncomfortable in his skin. He puts his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight. His sudden lack in confidence seems to embolden yours.

“You’ve been watching me.” you speak, not a question.

He observes you, flicking his eyes between yours, fast and searching before he utters a single word.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

A long pause.

“I wanted to make sure nothing happened to you.”

“Why?”

Joel just stares at you.

Bits of the night come back to you now. The way Joel pointed out the men looking at you. Their obvious interest that you previously have been blind to. The only person whose attention you had noticed had been Joel’s. For months he had been giving you attention, just like they had tonight. Because they wanted you, your body. Because…he might want that too. 

You’re seeing half a perfectly peeled orange held out to you, when the ground swings up at you at an odd angle, the alleyway suddenly becoming horizontal.

“Shit.”

It sounds far away as the snowy road comes dangerously close to smashing into your face but arms, lightning fast, catch your frame and haul you upright. They stay wrapped around your back as everything levels out.

“Are you ok!?” An edge of hysteria lines Joel’s voice.

Does…does he…?!

You look up at Joel and his face is so close now you can smell him. It’s warm and woodsy, leather and citrus and amber. The smell fills your head and you struggle to stay afloat in the sea of him, your desire pulling at your ankles, wanting to drown you in it. His arms are so secure around you, the muscles hard and steady. You are again unable to avoid staring at the beauty before you. His scarred nose is strong and straight, though it looks like it may have been broken in the past, his bearded jaw sharp and sturdy. His face holds the edge of someone dangerous, capable of death and destruction, but in this light, the person he perhaps used to be seems to shine though. An eager and more exposed person. His hair has fallen in front of his face slightly and he looks younger, the light in his jade and chocolate eyes burning with concern and something else, something primal now as he takes you in.

The moon sheds a soft opalescent light on his features, and combined with the fat flurries sashaying around you, you feel as if you’ve entered a dream. You can’t hold it back any longer.

“Please.” You all but whisper it. Hoping, begging.

Joel’s face is aflame with conflict. You see burning, wild desire there, raging through the forest of his thoughts, consuming every tree. But he also seems incredibly unsure. Of what, you don’t know. All you can do is ask, so again, you do.

“Please.”

This time the word is a prayer, a plea, offered up with abandon. A promise on your knees, a request for salvation. You don’t care how vulnerable you sound.

“Fuck.” Joel whispers it roughly, desperately, and then crushes his mouth to yours.

The wildfire from his gaze catches on every kindling of painful yearning that you have collected over the years, a piled-up mountain of desire, and you burn with it. You burn and burn. His mouth is rough and needy against yours and you open, letting him in. His tongue presses against the inside of your teeth, exploring and claiming every centimeter of you. You snake your arms around his neck as your skin blazes white hot, tangling your hands in his hair, gripping so tightly it probably hurts but all he does is groan with pleasure into your open mouth.

Suddenly, he pushes you up against the brick wall of the alley. His hands leave your back to grab your fists tangled in his hair. He collects both in his left and pins them against the cold wall above you without breaking the kiss. His right grabs your jaw, firm but not painful, his hand so large his thumb and pointer span from earlobe to earlobe. You stand there, fully at his mercy, needing more of him. You curse your clothes, wishing you could feel his skin against yours, his heat surrounding you, his width inside you.

A whine of need slips out of your throat and he groans again, his grip on your jaw tightening for a second before he lets go, breaking the kiss to look at your chest. He trails his hand downwards until it rests flat against your heart.

Low in your belly, a heat tangles through you, snaking around your insides, sinking its teeth into your trembling thighs.

You arch your back, trying to move your heaving breast into his palm but Joel presses your chest back into the wall, pinning you there until you stop wiggling. He levels your gaze with his, his eyes vast pools of inky black in the shadows.

“Don’t rush me.” he commands, his voice dragging on the ground.

You feel fucking psychotic, like if he doesn’t put his skin on yours soon you might actually pass out. But you wait, your arms still pinned above you, as he slowly, maddeningly, unzips your jacket and pushes it open to reveal your button-down shirt. He undoes one button, then two more, and finally flings your shirt open. Your bra is thin and the icy night swirls against it, your nipple hard and poking through the fabric. Joel hooks a finger on the edge of the cotton and slowly slides it down to the edge of your peaked nipple. He eyes your chest, a wolf to a rabbit, starved and lethal. With a quick motion, he yanks the fabric and your breast springs free, your nipple so hard it’s almost painful. He moans in approval and palms your breast, squeezing it hard, moving his fingers until he grabs your nipple between his pointer and thumb and gently rolls it. You release a noise halfway between a sob and a squeak.

The heat deep inside you is infernal now as the place between your legs throbs with aching need. You buck your hips forward, hoping to gain some friction against him, to relieve some of that pressure pounding within.

He senses this and uses his boot to kick your feet wider apart and then presses his thigh between yours, pushing against you. You curse your clothes again.

“Is this what you want pretty girl?” Joel asks, his voice gravelly and low, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear now. He gently flicks your nipple.

You’re whimpering, the noises coming from you less than decent. You grind down onto his thigh, moving on it, wishing he could feel how wet you were, wishing he would slide his fingers inside of you. The thought of that, of what you’ve been imagining for months, drives you mad. His large, capable fingers pumping in and out of you; it feels so close to being real it’s agonizing. You pick up the pace of your grinding, straining your caught wrists against his vice grip above your head.

“Tell me what it is you want, pretty girl. Use that soft pretty mouth to tell me what it is you need.” he says, and leaves your breast to grab the flesh of your hip, moving your body against him harder.

You gasp, no words coming.

“Do you want to feel me against you…inside you? Use your words, I want to hear you say it.”

For such a silent man he sure talks a lot when he’s turned on.

“P-please I-I-”

“You what?”

“I want…I need-”

“What do you need, pretty girl? Hmm? So pretty, she’s so pretty.” he coos.

The words were almost too much to absorb right now, your insides coiling so tightly at all the stimulation.

“I want to feel you-your fingers, i-inside me, p-please. Please.” you choke out, ragged and breathless.

That’s all Joel needs to hear as his right hand quickly unbuttons your jeans in one motion, shoving it under the waist band of your underwear. His fingers just barely graze the edge of your pussy, soaking wet now, when the sudden noise of incoming conversation cuts through.

Joel freezes at the edge of the center of you and you think you might shriek in desperate, crazed need. Your thoughts too scattered to catch up to the significance of the talking growing near.

He quickly pulls his hand out of your pants, releasing your arms, and swings around until his back faces the street and he completely covers you from view.

You are still trying to catch up fully to what is going on, wanting to clutch and claw at him to come back to you when a group of maybe five people walk right by the mouth of the alley. They pass by, laughing and singing, obviously drunk. You peek from behind Joel and see the group stumble by happily. A few of them throw glances to you both in the alley, but from the street it must just look like a man leaning against the wall, perhaps in conversation with someone else. It’s nothing too note-worthy for the intoxicated strangers, and they continue on their way.

Your heart is still beating wildly, the ghost sensation burning where his fingers were, what they were about to do.

The noise from the passerbys fades into the distance and Joel steps away from you, pushing his hair back, breathing unsteadily. He turns to you, his face etched in concern, eyes wild, but he only finds you with your hands on your knees, shaking in laughter.

“You’re laughing?” he asks, incredulous.

“I mean, it’s kind of funny.” you respond, still giggling, fixing your shirt.

Seemingly despite himself, he lets out a single chuckle, but puts his face back in his right hand.

“Jesus Christ.” he mutters to himself.

You want to push off the wall and walk towards him, to erase the distance between you two again. But your legs shake slightly and you’re not sure you can make the distance without tumbling to the ground.

“Come here.” you urge him, extending an arm out.

He looks at you for a moment, something flitting in his eyes, too fast to catch, and walks back to you. You reach up for his face, leaning in again but he grabs your hand, keeping it captive an inch away from his cheek. You search his face and only find a carefully crafted wall.

“You don’t like being snuck up on, do you?” you asked him.

A pause.

“Let me walk you home.” is his only response.

You open your mouth to object; that is the furthest thing that you want right now, but there is a warning in his eyes, not to push him. You can’t help the disappointment that blooms within you. Like ink in water, it spreads out, consuming. You’re sure it’s obvious on your face because Joel turns his head to lightly press his lips to the tips of your fingers.

“You’re freezing.” he says.

You haven’t noticed, feeling like you were on fire this entire time. But as that fades, the chill of the night seeps back in and you realize you’re shivering.

“That jacket ain’t much.” he nods to your thin coat, made for weather probably 15 degrees warmer than this.

“I’m saving up for a new one.” you say, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Here.” Joel says shrugging off his thick, tan jacket. He holds it out to you.

“Won’t you be cold?” you ask, concerned.

“I’ll be fine.” he says and winks.

You reach for the jacket and slip it on. It’s warm from his body heat, and it smells like him, concentrated and delicious. You can’t help yourself, you turn towards the shoulder and inhale deeply, the scent almost dizzying.

He smiles at this, but his eyes seem almost…sad.

You want so badly to ask him what he’s thinking, what barriers lie in that head of his. You want to know what this meant to him. Was he actually interested in you or was it a crazy, spontaneous event he didn’t wish to repeat? Was he just taken by surprise by those strangers or was he embarrassed at potentially being caught with you.

You have no language to communicate with him about those sorts of things though. Instead, you merely follow him as he leads you through the alleyway towards your apartment.

**********

Later, in your bed, you wonder about your goodbyes. You think about how much you wanted to kiss him, but his guarded eyes kept you where you stood. How you reluctantly slipped off his jacket to hand back to him and how a flurry of emotions passed over his face before he slowly accepted it. How you both stared at each other, how you wanted to say so much, ask so much. How his face showed a million things then that you could not decipher, like looking at an unreadable text, the information falling on blind eyes. You wished you could touch him just one more time, in case it was the last, but he simply nodded his head once and loped off into the dark. How you got home and opened your journal to sketches of oranges and vehemently wrote down everything you could remember about his face up close, lest you ever forgot. As if you ever could. How you lay in your bed, still smelling him on your skin, still could feel the pressure of his lips on yours, and you concentrated on those things as your fingers moved under your waistband. Their shape all wrong compared to his, but finding your release nonetheless, replaying the feeling of him all over you. And you wonder and you wonder and you wonder as you turn and stare out your small square window at the moon hanging low in the night sky, a crescent shy of being full.

[nativadron]

Autumn Breezes (Part II)

pairings: Mick Schumacher/Justine Huysman, Mick Schumacher/original female character (later, as the story goes)

tags: mick schumacher, michael schumacher, justine huysman, corinna schumacher, gina-maria schumacher

disclaimer: finally, this is part 2 of Autumn Breezes. I am sorry for the delay, but I hope this one will be as satisfying as before to read! Enjoy!

warnings: bullying, harsh language, labelling, racism, identity covering, identity crisis, anxiety, mild violence

note: this is an art of fanfiction. all images and lines displayed in this post belong to me as the author and the creator.

---

London, 1960

Talking about surviving two years ago made me realise that I did a pretty good job. I am in my end year of secondary school. And as the same as other years we spent together, we still visit our comfort zone to talk, to share, to make fun of almost anything we had in mind. We are both now 17 years of age and everything is changing. We are bolder and somehow stronger in bond.

Recalling our first encounter, I still look forward to telling her what I feel. I had confessed that I loved her, but I never called this a commitment between us. A commitment to something real that happens between us. We hold hands, spend time together, and share feelings, but still, something is empty. Undefined, maybe.

“I wasn’t just asking you to be here with me for some killing time together, Mick.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

She sighs and I notice some emotions at tense. Is she holding something bad?

“My Dad got a job in Switzerland,”

“That’s good news, Dutch. Congratulations!”

“I am glad upon hearing that too, but I can’t accept the fact that I have to go with him.”

I don’t think she will leave you. Is that even the truth now?

“I will be leaving in two weeks. I may not go to graduation with you.”

“I don’t think we should be concerned about what’s ahead of you. Time is all we have now. While we are here, we will be whole.”

I know we are both hurt by the fact, but at least, the last time is all we get to live on. Knowing how much I will be missing her, I am sure it is the best time to create memories together.

“Aren’t you disappointed that I’ll leave you?”

But what is left for me to do? “I can’t tell much about it.”

“Will you even miss me?”

“I don’t know if I could not miss you.”

“Will we even exchange letters?”

“I can’t see that I neglect the idea.”

And there she stands up, in front of me, with all disappointment that I can’t understand.

“I don’t think you consider this as a whole deal.”

“Justine, you need to hold it right there.”

“You are ignoring the fact that what we had all along is not important and you think less of me!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you are! You talk less, you are flat, and you don’t seem to care what it looks like for me leaving you!”

“No, I don’t, Justine! I don’t!”

“Oh, don’t talk nonsense to me! You haven’t learned to confess yourself better, have you?”

“Justine, please. You are not—”

“What am I not doing now? Can’t read you better? Is that what you are trying to tell me?”

Indeed, she is. Who is oblivious now? “YES! YES, YOU ARE!”

Never once did I scream my word. Not even to someone that I loved. Only this time, maybe effective is the only measurement I could take in behalf of my action. “I can’t talk better, even in a situation like this—this making me much troubled at words. But all I know is, that I can’t let you go. I can’t let this be our last goodbye.”

She looks at me, dumbfounded. Shock, maybe. I am not sure. Before I realize it, I take two steps forward and make us suddenly crowded by our stuck voices and minds. “I loved you, Justine. I can’t accept that I must let you go,”

“Is it selfish for me to love you better?”

She looks at me, obviously speechless for what she just heard. I could notice that she grew red. She even tried to say something, but her mouth could not even make any word to deliver. I know how strange to break the ice at the most intense moment that you had with someone you cared about, but here I am, instantly letting out a chuckle only to be followed by her too. Aren’t we hilarious?

“What are we? So crowded with thoughts of being abandoned, is that it?”

“But it is what I am afraid of. Can’t imagine to let you slip away.”

“The wind will never stay, remember?”

“But love remains, is that it?”

She turns away, hiding herself and shielding the unconfessed reeling. Frustration will always be our weakness to be shared. None of us truly hit the core to be plain about it.

“Justine?”

“Yes?”

“Will you still love me, then?”

She ducks her head, utterly confused that I could see how much she didn’t want to be the one who did the talk. There is also a reflection of neglect, something grew sour and I couldn’t uncover it.

 She reaches for my hand, holding it for a moment as she closes her eyes; savouring the last intimate feeling, I could say. Only, I can’t even feel her anymore. It’s like—it’s like fading.

“Goodbye, my beloved Germania.” She kisses my cheek.

“Ich werde dich immer noch lieben, Dutch.”

I have grown to be someone that I never thought I’d be; someone who longs and waits despite clear uncertainty. Every day, I still visit the same spot we used to hang around together, lying down there, restlessly and playing with the flowers and grass as if I were a little child again. Even to this day, I do not write a letter or receive one from her. I want to be the one who cracks the distance and embraces the feeling that I almost buried for her to be alive again, but then, do I deserve it, at all?

Days are growing dulled until they turn to gloomy weeks and then to sorrowful months. In between the loneliness I dealt with, my Dad sent me to Austria to pursue my university degree. I never felt homesick before, but then I knew how bad it was to be in such a condition and I was too late to realize as I was already far from the place I called my home throughout my entire youth.

The first month was not torturing at all, even though I noticed how hard I conquered nighttime, so I ended up sleep-deprived. It was not seriously troubling, but sometimes, I could be a sore loser in understanding my lesson in class. Surprisingly, I would still be a favourite among other students to my lecturers here. From there, I got a nickname, “Der Glückliche” and some called me, “Der charismatische”. It’s not that I am sly, I just somehow find my way.

Unlike any other students who inhabited the university dormitory, I rented the nearest boarding house and would still go early by bike to the university. Sometimes, I would stop by a bread shop to have my breakfast there. The owner would be kindly giving me extra since I am the only spotted regular there and he took me as if I were his son.

“Dad?”

“Mick! How is it going so far in Austria?”

“Everything’s good, but not so much,” I chew on my lip, feeling sad a little since this was the first time I got to hear my Dad’s voice again.

Months before, I was not so brave to break my wall to pour all my missing feelings away to them by letter or telephone, because I knew too well that I wouldn’t be able to bid goodbye after. But here I am, putting all odds aside and starting to talk about whatever I had in mind.

“I miss you. And Mom. And Gina.”

“Is that Mick?”

“Yes, darling. He missed you so much, he said.”

“Oh, my darling Mick!”

“How about you and others? Is London growing different without me?”

“Don’t worry, son, we are holding up well here and London is not so much different since you left! Only, we got a few horses shipped out straight from Felixstowe and your sister loved them all!”

“Oh, that’s cheerful to hear! Does she name one of them?”

“Of course! She has grown to love horses just like your mother! She named her favourite Billy.”

“Billy? Sounds more like a name for a dog.”

“Don’t tell that to your sister!”

We both laughed and there, my loneliness suddenly erased. Instantly. Even my mother’s laugh is heard by me in the background.

“So, where’s Gina?”

“Gina is outside, in the ranch. She seems—”

My Dad chuckles, “She is busy. With Billy.”

“So, Billy is going to replace me now?”

“Fret not, you will always be loved! Remember that!”

So, our conversation flies without time boundaries. Dad was sharing mostly about the development of the farm and the ranch. Last month, they made some money from selling milk, homemade butter, and some herbs at the local farmer’s market in London. And, Uncle Ralf was visiting them too. He was bringing along his little family. My Dad was pouring out his feelings about how happy he was to have David around because he was reminding him of me. Of course, I want to meet David too when I get back by the time I get days off.

“Do you like Austria?”

It was always a kind of question that I had anticipated, but I never knew that my Dad would be the one who asked me. My head was circling a thought of a question of my origin.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Mick, I’m here.”

“Do you ever miss Germany?”

I can hear him breathing steadily, but he makes me nervous about the answer that I would hear from him.

“I had grown to forget what I had back there, son,” He let out a breath. “I don’t feel that I am of German descent anymore.”

That’s not surprising. “What do you have with Uncle Ralf? You seem to hide something.”

“Will you promise me that you wait until you turn 21, you won’t ask about this again?”

Before I could protest, my Dad continued, “I will tell you everything when you turn 21. Keep my word.”

“I will not ask about this until I turn 21.”

“Deal?”

“Promise is a promise, Dad.”

One day, after I got home, a mailman approached me at my door and delivered a letter. I thought it was from my parents or Gina. But then—

Justine.

“Thank you. Have a great day!” and the mailman took off.

I was still standing in front of my door, frozen. After all this time, I never thought this day would happen. But, what is this about?

I tear the letter open, gently pull the paper out of the envelope, and start to unfold it. I am almost pessimistic about what she will write about because a letter after a long absence is certainly a bad omen to me.

Suisse, July 18th, 1960

Dear Germania,

I hope you weren’t so mad about how long it took for me to write a letter to you. It was also weird for you to think about how I found your address, right? Don’t worry, I called your Dad and he told me everything; mostly, you.

I am sorry that our last goodbye was more sour despite what we had for years, together. I am living my life, even enjoying Switzerland better than the first year I got to be here. But still, everything is different without you. By the way, how’s Austria treating you?

There is news that I heard from my Dad about us potentially moving back to London. But, the certainty is still far from confirmed. I just wish that when I finally back, I would meet you at the same place where we used to hang out together. Isn’t that nice for us?

There are so many things I want to write and share in this letter, but I know I won’t make you stuck just to read my ramblings here. One certain thing, I will send another letter and I hope you don’t mind to write me back.

Note: You will always be my Germania.

Warmest hug,

Dutch.

I never thought that she still loved me.

But, is that what I want?

To wear her love with me?

I fetch three pieces of paper and a pen. My mind is rustling with words and openings, but not a single word comes to stain the paper under the tip of my pen. When I finally started to scribble, it would only be a stutter of my mind that wouldn’t pour out to the paper and I would only crumple it and throw it away in a mess around the floor of my room.

I try again; take a deep breath, stare at the blank paper under the palm of my hands, and close my eyes to sync in with my head.

Until…

Dear Dutch,

Liebst du mich noch?

And I don’t think again, but to fold it neat, seal it inside the envelope, and run to the postal box in front of my boarding house and send it away.

If only she loved me, what becomes of my heart to bury it away a long time ago?

It’s like any other morning that I would on my bike, riding through the calm Austria in the morning and heading to the bakery shop that I always visited from time to time since I was here. The wind is still chilling and the sound of the birds is colouring the atmosphere. These are the two things that I started to love to fill my morning, today and every day. It took only five minutes to reach the bakery shop and I was there, as always, when the crews started to brew the first batch of their finest coffee by 6:00.

“Mister Shoemaker!”

“Ah, good morning, sir! How are you feeling today?”

“That’s kind of to ask, young man, but I am fine! Do you want eclairs? We got it fresh from the oven!”

“I’ll take it along with the usual bread toast and… a milk, please.”

“Right away, young man!”

I claimed my usual spot near the window at the far end of the chair lines. I also brought my favourite go-to book to read while having my breakfast. I never thought I would love poems and classic novels when I set foot in Austria. Some of them came from Justine, it’s not that I didn’t try at all before she showered me with all this stuff.

Justine.

Will she answer my letter?

Will she still love me the way before?

Day by day, new letters come to my door. It’s strange when you think that you are falling apart, but then you are slowly resurfacing; rekindling the feeling, the blossoming love, you thought you wasted before. Even your heart is no more borrowed. It is owned now.

College days could be as hard as ever, but the hardest part even rolling you into the highest tide of spirit. Especially when you are not fighting it alone, with love and affection, you may able to conquer your storms of the day.

Now, riding my way back to my apartment is no longer an empty feeling anymore. I hope that this feeling will last, as it has ever been since the first time I admitted to the love I never knew I needed. The wind is giving an exciting chill as I slip my mind to every row of trees that I am passing through. My heart beats faster with happiness. I feel like a child; innocent, purely unburdened with life, and free.

When I reached my apartment, I checked the postal box immediately. As I expected, I got three letters from my beloved person: Gina, Mom, and of course, Justine.

I dive directly into Justine’s letter and leave the other two in the front cabinet in the entry room. When the envelope opened, I was greeted by the newest photo of her. She took a photo in front of her current residence in Switzerland, with a bright smile that beautifies the face I never once forget. Maybe there are some changes in her, but overall, she is who she is.

The letter inside talks mostly about her life and college journey. Not to mention that she also talked about her father’s growing business there and some of the new collection of her favourite books. Not a topic that will drive every person but I’m happy to know that she is walking and growing every day. Every little thing she mentioned could give me rejoice and the love surely expands.

… Maybe, I’ll send some of my newest collection for you to check out. I’m sure you’ll be feeling hooked! …

Wish you tons of wellness! … If maybe I could visit you there and have a day to spend just like in London back then! …

… Until the next letter, Germania!

Until then, for the heart that I hold so dear.

And I found the answer that I longed to read since the last time:

Yes. I still love you.

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men Chapter 2: Welcome to Scotland

A/N: Here's chapter 2! I've had so much fun writing this so far and I'm really excited to see where it's gonna go!

C/W: mild cursing, some mentions of discrimination based on country of birth

Without further ado, lets dive in

Masterlist

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Scotland.”

“Finally,” Soap groans from the seat in front of her, unclipping his seatbelt and rising to his feet. “Thought A was gonna lose feelin’ in my legs.”

Ghost huffs from his spot in the seat beside her. “Quit your bitchin’, Johnny.”

She nods in agreement, waiting for the lieutenant to rise from his spot in the aisle seat before following suit. Standing after having to sit in a cramped space for so long is a welcome relief. She wished they were able to wear civvies for the flight though. As comfortable as these cargos she was wearing were normally–they were her favorites for that reason–they didn’t compare to the thermal leggings she had been wanting to wear. At least she could wear a beanie her dad had gifted her for Christmas the year prior.

“Language, Simon.”

Grizzly chuckles at the way Price was tiredly speaking to the taller man, and she’s reminded faintly of how her father would speak to her and the rest of her siblings when they’d get themselves in trouble.

They exit the plane, each of them carrying a bag with things to amuse them during their flight and also items which they didn’t want to have with their luggage. Their actual luggage was all checked–due to the size and weight of their duffles none of them wanted to go through the trouble of dragging it on the plane with them–and needed to be retrieved. Soap leads the way, steering them through the airport with ease stemming from landing at this airport so many times.

They were actually going to be conducting business near his residence, so they in essence had their own personal guide to keep them from getting lost.

The airport is bustling with activity, people hurrying across the white floors to catch their flights. Their group gains a few stares–probably from the cargos and the military issue boots they all wore-but Grizzly pointedly ignores them. She elects to focus on Soap and how out of place the three Brits and herself were going to sound wandering around the hills of Scotland. It inspires a fight within herself to keep a smile from breaking out, only imagining the expressions they’ll be wearing once they realize the way Soap talks when he’s all fired up is how everyone here speaks all the time.

Before she knows it, they’ve made their way to the luggage drop off. The conveyor belts remain motionless as the group strides over, not yet moving any luggage around to be grabbed. Soap huffs at the sight, leaning back against a pillar set up just a couple feet from the belt. They all stick relatively close to one another, waiting in the midst of the quickly growing crowd for their bags to be brought down.

“What do you wanna bet that Soap is gonna try to drag us to all the places he went to growing up while we’re here, eh?” she asks Ghost, looking up at him.

He makes this sound halfway between a scoff and a huff, something she has come to associate with his version of laughter. “Don’ need to bet on tha’. He’s gonna do’t whether the lot o’ us like it or not.”

Grizzly chuckles, about to make a further comment when the belt starts moving. A chorus of mumbles goes up, people waiting a little more anxiously for their luggage. The first suitcases come down, all bearing tags and markers to differentiate them and even one belonging to a child that looked like Lightning McQueen. A woman shoves past her with a little boy, the cartoon suitcase and a deep blue one being snatched up. The woman didn’t even bat an eye at how Grizzly was knocked aside, stumbling against Ghost with a soft curse.

“Ya a’right?” her lieutenant asks, steading her with his hands grasping her forearms.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He simply nods as she regains her balance and steps back to her previous spot, taking a minute to calm herself down before searching the conveyor belt for her duffel. She sees it coming down the metal ramp, sliding onto the belt with a thump. Glad she’d decided to bring her poetry books with her instead of packing them in her bag like she normally did because of the rough way her bag was handled, Grizzly gently nudges past a few people and lifts up her duffel. Soap and Gaz’s, each marked with tags bearing their initials, slide down next, separated by a few suitcases from her duffel.

She returns to her spot by Ghost’s side, setting the duffel on the ground and settling her crossbody bag more comfortably on her back. They don’t have to wait much longer for Price and Ghost’s duffels to slide down. Once all of them have the duffels and have double checked that they in fact do have all their belongings (“Lads I’ve lost ‘nough things while traveling in the service to be cautious,” Price had told them as he looked through the neatly packed items in his bag), they exit the airport.

The crisp March air brushes against her cheeks, instantly sending a wave of goosebumps rising over the skin of her arms. It’s welcome, reminding her of the winters in Alaska growing up. Gaz curses, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the thick coat he wore and tucking his head down into the tall collar in an attempt to cover his ears. Price has a similar response, tugging his beanie more firmly over his ears. Ghost doesn’t have a reaction, but that comes as no surprise.

“Where the bloody hell is our ride?” Price questions, one arm around a shivering Gaz as his hand rubs over the younger man’s arm to try to warm him up with his other hand stuffed into his pocket.

“Oh come on Captain it’s not that cold out is it?” she teases, comfortable in her outfit. “It’s not that cold right, Soap?”

The Scot shakes his head, looking the happiest and calmest she’d seen him be for a while. “Nah. I cannae hardly feel ‘t.”

The two of them share a laugh, much to the displeasure of Price and Gaz.

“Well I’m sure Ghost is cold too,” Gaz retorts, sending a look their lieutenant’s way. “Right?”

Ghost shrugs, arms crossed over his broad chest. “M fine actually.”

Gaz grumbles under his breath about how the three of them were insane, Price agreeing with him as they wait for a van to pick them up. To the grateful mumbling of the captain and sergeant, a van pulls up to the curb and a man steps out, greeting them all with a salute and then ushering them inside while loading their bags into the back. Price slips into a row with Gaz while she, Ghost, and Soap all pile into the rear one. It’s a tight fit trying to squeeze back there, especially with the way all three of their shoulders brush together. However, Grizzly doesn’t mind since this has more legroom than the plane and that’s a major thing to be grateful for.

The driver, a British corporal based off of his introduction, slips back into his seat and pulls back into the flow of traffic, driving them to their destination. Price strikes up a conversation with him, and under normal circumstances she’d be paying attention, but right now all she’s focused on is the scenery of Scotland they’re passing by. With each pub and small store or bakery they pass by she’s reminded of the times she came to the country with her father growing up. Distantly she wonders if there will be a chance for her to visit any of them.

“What about ya, Staff Sergeant?”

She is snapped from her thoughts by the voice of the young corporal. “I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said?” Grizzly asks, this time actually paying attention.

“I was jus’ askin’ if any o’ the team ‘ad been t’ Scotland b’fore, Staff Sergeant.”

“Yes actually. Several times,” she replies, a smile coming onto her face. “My dad was born in a town not too far from Edinburg. Him and I come with my siblings to visit the family still here for holidays when we can.”

“Reckon they’d accept a surprise visit?” Price inquiries, turning to look back at her.

She rolls her eyes. “And risk losing a free babysitter by not? They’d welcome me with open arms.”

Soap chuckles, and she remembers he came from a big family like she did. He probably got treated in a similar fashion whenever he got time on leave and decided to come home. Thinking of her family lights up a small pang in her chest, wanting badly to see them. Maybe if they got some free time after this assignment before heading back to England she could drive to visit her grandparents, uncle, and cousins.

A gate looms ahead, blocking off the military base from the outside world. Ghost shifts next to her, slipping his phone into one of the various pockets on his cargos after pausing his music. Soap is downright squirming, eager to get out of his seat and move around.

The mental image of smacking him on the back of the head to make him stop moving in the cramped space of the backseat pops into her brain.

Before Grizzly has the chance to act on it, the van comes to a stop inside the gate in front of a building she assumes is offices. The driver turns off the ignition, allowing for the team to offload onto the asphalt. Gaz and Price hurry out of the single side door, already working on getting their things from the back of the van. Since she was in the middle seat, she slips out before the men on either side of her, laughing as Soap tries in vain to scramble out before Ghost. The lieutenant just shoves him back with one big gloved hand on his chest and squeezes through the gap between the two seats Gaz and Price had been in.

“A wan a bile yer heid,” Soap grumbles, finally allowed to exit the van once Ghost is out.

“Oh poor delicate flower,” she coos, hefting up her duffel onto one shoulder after stuffing her crossbody she’d brought on the plane inside. “Do you need a kiss to make it better?”

The Scot grins at that, leaning into her space. “A’d take any excuse to git a kiss from a bonnie lass like yerself.”

“Knock ‘t off,” Ghost orders, grabbing Soap by the back of his collar and pulling him away from her. “We ‘ave an audience.”

“Ya know I dinnae mind tha-OW LT!”

00000

“Your objective is to prevent the deal from goin’ through. If it does, then cut off its head as quickly as possible.”

Grizzly looks over the projected image on the white wall in front of her, taking in the details of the drone shot they’d gotten of a warehouse nestled within Dunfermline. It was about two hours from where they were in Stirling and less than forty minutes from Glasgow, meaning they needed to keep that in mind when searching for their targets. According to the intel they’d been given, an American mafia affiliated group who called themselves the “Eagles” had taken up business inside. Under normal circumstances, this would be left to the authorities in the area.

However, this wasn’t normal circumstances.

Based on what had been presented to them, the 141 was going to be facing a bust for a massive deal. They were talking drugs, weapons, blacklists, and more. It was gonna require one hell of a cleanup job.

She knew the paperwork they’d all have to fill out after this mission would be a bitch and half.

“I trust your team can handle this, Captain Price?”

The statement is worded like a question, giving off the illusion none of them buy that they were actually allowed to say no to this.

Price doesn’t take the bait, meeting the eyes of the man conducting their mission briefing. “Yes sir.”

“Good,” the man says with a nod, turning off the projector and flicking the lights back on. “Your team heads out at 2300.”

With that, they’re all dismissed. As she passes the man who’d conducted the briefing, he sniffs with an air of disdain around him, and Grizzly suspects it is due to her being an American. Not letting it phase her, she continues out the door after Soap. She encountered this plenty while on bases not her own housing primarily individuals from the various parts of the UK. This was actually the reason why she preferred being on bases holding other American units on an assignment.

With Price at the head, the team heads down the hallways of the base, navigating towards the barracks. There are several soldiers inside, all conversing noisily in their Scottish tongue. Soap hightails it for a few of them playing cards, instantly being roped in once they heard his natural accent. About a quarter of the total number of soldiers in the room were British, their accents a harsh contrast to that of the natives of this country. She notes dryly there aren’t any Americans in this barrack, but that wasn’t exactly unusual given the base they were on was really for the British Army.

“Johnny’s in his natural element,” Ghost comments, leaning back against the wall.

“He’s surrounded by his own species,” she affirms, chuckling at the sight of their sergeant arguing animatedly with another soldier, accent molding his words so thickly even she was having trouble deciphering it. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to drag him back once this mission is done.”

Her lieutenant makes that scoffing huff noise, likely thinking the same thing.

Grizzly sits on her bunk–the bottom one since the only open top bunks were on the other side of the room away from her team–and looks up at him. “What are your plans for until we head out? We have at least ten hours to go.”

“Make sure Johnny doesn’t get into trouble,” the man replies and she laughs.

“You don’t wanna interact with your species?” she teases, watching as he leans against the frame of a bunk bed behind him.

Ghost shrugs, voice passive as he speaks. “Already know what they’ll wanna talk ‘bout. Not tha’ interestin’.”

“Aw, so you prefer my company over theirs?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

She chuckles, attention being drawn away by Price who had come to stand by her bunk.

“Never seen Soap fit in with a group so quickly,” he comments, echoing the same stream of thought she and Ghost were coasting over earlier. “Good for ‘im.”

“It sounds like you’re talkin’ about exposure therapy for a dog,” Grizzly laughs, watching as the Scotsman stands with the soldiers he had been playing cards with.

After exchanging several fist bumps and shoulder taps, Soap strides back to them with a pep in his step.

She chuckles. “Someone’s happy.”

“Ah shove off,” he replies, no actual venom in his tone. “If there was a buncha Americans ‘ere you’d be doin’ the same thing, lass.”

She shrugs, and Price seems to find the interaction amusing, almost like a dad watching his young kids play fight would. Gaz wanders over from where he had been conversing with some British soldiers, standing by their Captain. He seems to be glad to have rejoined them, and she recalls the man’s tendency to stick around them since trying to be around new people just didn’t appeal to him the same as the team he’d been with for years.

“Any ideas for how to pass the time?” he asks, stance relaxed beside Price.

“Just trying to figure that out,” Grizzly replies, scooting over on the bed and offering the spot to him.

Soap tries to swoop in, and she wrestles with him so Gaz could take the spot. Gaz laughs, pulling her further back onto the bed to slip in front of her in a move of pretending to defend her from the Scot. Soap huffs from his spot on the ground where she’d shoved him, trying again to climb onto the bed. This time he succeeds, taking Grizzly’s spot and leaving her sitting pressed against the wall the bunk was against.

“You little shit,” she laughs, climbing from behind the two of them.

They take it as their cue to scoot back, now resting comfortably on her cot. Grizzly grips the metal of the frame for the top bunk, one knee on the mattress. She grins, slowly moving back onto the mattress.

“What’re ya doin’, Griz?” Soap questions as she starts to move.

“I,” she replies, making a quick move and laying over both of their laps with her head propped up on her pillow. “Am laying on my bed. What’s it look like?”

Soap, who was holding her upper half on his lap, flicks her forehead and she smacks him in the stomach in retaliation. She hears the scoffing huff faintly, and it sends a little thrill through her. Price barks at them to knock it off, but if he really meant it his voice would have been much more stern.

00000

The med pack rests heavily between her feet. She’d placed it there for the bumpy ride to make sure it didn’t get jostled around too badly, but considering how badly they were all experiencing just that, it wouldn’t be a surprise if some of it was moved. Ghost is on her left inside of the vehicle with Gaz and Soap opposite them and Price at the wheel. They were almost to the safehouse where they’d be keeping stock of what was going on at the warehouse and also be far enough away that their activity wouldn’t be an issue. It was around forty minutes from the actual warehouse they were going after, meaning if something went wrong they’d be on their own for a while before any form of exfil or help would arrive.

To say that the stakes were high was an understatement.

“How’s everyone doin’?” Price asks, eyes never leaving the road in front of him where another vehicle was driving ahead of them.

“Gettin’ tired of sittin’ down, Captain,” Gaz replies, speaking for all of them.

“Almost there lads. Just a few more minutes.”

“Think my legs are gonna go numb if I sit for any longer,” she grumbles, trying to avoid slamming into the metal wall on her right on a particularly rough patch of road.

The minutes pass agonizingly slow, until even she is fighting the urge to squirm in her seat.

Normally, long drives didn’t bother her. Growing up in Alaska, having to drive long distances wasn’t unusual. During missions, there would sometimes be occurrences where they were on the road for several hours before they reached their destination. It could even be brought up the long flight they’d had to endure coming from their last base to Scotland.

She can still remember Las Almas, squeezed between the seats Soap and Ghost were residing in when the latter had hijacked a truck to get them away from Graves. That drive had been a good couple hours, though she supposed being so hyped up on adrenaline lessened the effects of wanting to get out of the vehicle.

They finally come to a rocky stop, Soap and Gaz exiting first while she follows and Ghost goes behind her. The ground feels firm beneath her and being able to stretch her legs after so long was a welcome relief. They wait for Price, trailing behind him into the safehouse. Grizzly, out of habit, finds herself slipping in between Soap and Gaz like she did on normal missions.

The 141 and the additional team sent out with them set up in the safe house, setting down their weapons and beginning to set up who would be taking care of what. Grizzly discovered she was the only medic present, something surprising considering the amount of spec ops soldiers there was here. However, she doesn’t question it and continues along, simply giving her usual rundown to the men on the other team about what it meant to protect her as a medic and if she was ever incapacitated in any way the various ways to treat wounds.

She had never been incapacitated in any fights with the 141 besides in Las Almas when Graves had betrayed them and one of his Shadows had hit her with the butt of their rifle.

“Any questions?” Grizzly asks, eyes sweeping over the five men before her.

“Yeah,” one of them says after a moment, gaining her attention. “What’s an American like ya doing w’ us, huh?”

Ah.

This was gonna be a long mission.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

Next chapter we should get more Grizzly and Ghost action (cause I know they're not interacting a whole lot rn but there's a reason for that) ;3

[taechaos]

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

[matryosika]

shoot me, chapter II

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II

word count for this chapter — 5.5 k

warnings — softdom!changbin, kind of bratty reader, mild exhibition (something happens at a dressing room but it's not too much), dry humping - lap riding?, oral (m), praise kink, use of petnames, slight edging, masturbation and cum eating

note — i wrote this today because maybe this week i'll be busy with college and i was feeling a bit inspired. i'm so happy with the messages i recieved and, if you like my work, i highly encourage you to send an ask or a message! thank you so much for reading me and i hope you enjoy this chapter. it's a litte bit more smut and angsty tension than actual plot, but i was feeling this today. also, i didn't plan on having a taglist but i guess i'll do! if you are interested in me adding you, please let me know! <3

tag list — @cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan

the awkward small meeting soon became lunch. arthur convinced you and changbin to join them at a very nice restaurant that was located a few blocks away from the company and, although you refused for the sake of comfort, your father didn't accepted a "no" for an answer.

"he is like a step-son to me" arthur said, looking at changbin as if he had some sort of admiration towards him. "i've seen him become the man he is now and i'm sure no one can run the company like him"

both haeun and jang-yeop seemed flattered, but changbin didn't even smile at the compliment arthur just said. by the lack of response, his mother rushed to say something in order to move on to other topic. it was pretty obvious that changbin was acting kind of rude towards everyone today, but you guessed he was just feeling uncomfortable because of what happened yesterday.

"so, y/n" haeun interrupted "your father had planned a dinner for you yesterday but it seemed like he had to canceled it because you had plans… how was your first day back in korea?"

"oh" you muttered, trying to chew the food that was still in your mouth so you could answer her question "it was… definetly something"

as soon as you answered her question, changbin gave you a side look from his place at the dinner table. "i went out with an old friend from middle school to itaewon"

"itaewon.." jang-yeop added "there are some dangerous places there, y/n. you should be more careful going out at night, korea might be a safe place but you can find anything out there".

"yeah i-" and for a moment, a perversed idea striked your head "i actually had a very unpleaseant situation yesterday at the bar i attended to"

immediatly after you finished your sentence, changbin glanced right at you.

"what happened?" jang-yeop questioned filled with concern.

"there were some awfully rude people there" you replied, limitating the answer. you wanted changbin to have an uncomfortable time there just because he crushed your pride the night before "i'll just leave it at that"

"changbin" her mother intervened "weren't you at itaewon yesterday too?"

the poor man almost choked on his food, coughing softly to avoid attracting any attention or being too loud "i was"

this was the first time you heard his voice that day and you would be absolutely lying if you said it didn't make you feel something. the memories of him praising you last night while he was eating you out just flooded your mind, making you stare directly at him for a really long time.

he was looking at you too, but his gaze transmitted something completely different than lust or desire. he was angry, maybe at himself or at you for teasing him in front of his parents, but he looked scared too, uncomfortable.

"see, this is exactly why i planned that dinner yesterday" arthur stated "i wanted to introduce changbin to y/n so he could guard her during her stay in korea. you know jang-yeop, how men are behaving nowadays…"

"tell me about it, arthur" the old man replied.

"i trust changbin as if he is my own blood" your father continued "if i asked him to take care of my youngest daughter y/n, i'm sure he would"

"maybe he can give her a tour around the principal streets of seoul" his mother suggested with the biggest smile.

"i'd love to" you were quick to say, earning a death-stare from the man in question. "i wanted to go to this mall i saw on my way from the airport but hyejin was in a rush and we couldn't stop by"

with a satisfied look, jang-yeop laid his body down on the chair he was sitting and sighed. "well, changbin, seems like you have plans for today"

"i'm not a taxi-driver" he spitted, earning a despicable look from both of his parents.

"no, changbin" arthur was rushed to intervene "i would really appreciate if you took care of her whenever she goes out alone. you know how men are, just think of her as a younger sister"

for a moment you felt the need to throw up at his fake words, but you were enjoying the scene.

a younger sister, that's funny.

"where's that store again?" changbin asked annoyed.

this can go really good or really bad for you, changbin. it's up to you.

*

"so you are not going to even apologize?" you asked in the middle of the uncomfortable silence that was now filling changbin's sports car.

"for what, giving you the best orgasm of your life?" he mumbled with a cold tone in his voice. you could see he wasn't really in the mood for talking, but you at least expected an apology for humiliating you yesterday.

"funny how you thought of me as a gold digger when my father is practically your boss and you do exactly as he says" you chuckled.

now let's clarify something. you never really felt proud of being arthur's daughter because he wasn't even a father to you. yes, you shared his blood and last name but at the end of the day that didn't meant anything for you. nevertheless, changbin didn't knew this so you could play that "ceo's bratty daughter" card everytime you wanted, even if that obligated you to actually act like you and arthur held a loving fraternal relationship.

"if i knew you were his daughter, none of that would've happened" he replied without parting his eyes from the street, again, with the coldest voice you had ever hear in your life.

"what part, the humiliation or the orgasm?"

he gave you a threatening look and proceeded to keep is eyes on the road. you were quite unsure how to lead this situation since everything happened really fast: your arrival to korea, your first encounter with ryujin after a long time, the itaewon night and the bar incident... changbin was still a mere stranger but you had quite a feeling that this wasn't going to be the first time you spended time with him since your father made it clear: changbin was like family to him.

shit, i am his real family and never even bothered to reach out for me when i was in japan. he probably only did it this time because of ara.

"is this is?" changbin asked as he parked.

"yeah" you replied, looking at the tall building that was in front of you.

"i'll wait for you here, don't delay, i don't have your time" he snarled without removing his seatbealt.

"you are not coming?"

you had one idea in mind to fuck up his head even more, but it was only going to work if changbin accompanied you to the store.

"and what exactly am i going to do there? rate the stupid clothes you try on?" he scoffed, checking his cellphone without even looking at you.

"do whatever you want" you told him, closing the door with a loud noise and bending over the opened window of the car "but i don't think arthur would be happy about your hostility towards me"

a smile appeared on your face as you walked away, hearing another loud noise indicating that one of the car doors just closed again. good.

*

"are you done?" changbin asked irritated as he walked besides you on your tour of the mall.

"yeah i just" your attention was caught by a black short dress that was on display at the front of a store that looked -expensive-. you had some of your own money from the previous night because, thanks to ryujin's master plan, you didn't actually had to spend any... but it was probably not going to be enough.

and just when you were about to tell changbin that you were ready to go, you remembered it: hyejin lended you one of her credit cards yesterday to buy yourself a "top-of-the-class present" because she was quite unsure of your likes and dislikes.

"i'll just go to that store and i'm done"

changbin rolled his eyes and followed you through the crowd of people that were in the mall at the moment. the store was crowded with people too, mostly women and their husbands or boyfriends who were waiting for them at the couches provided.

as you entered, you were quick to approach the pile of black dresses that caught your attention in order to try one on. the price, as expected, was elevated for you but it was probably nothing for hyejin. i'll buy this, i'm sorry sis.

it was a simple, skinny black dress with the whole back exposed. you figured out that it would be nice to wear it on a bar night or something and, since you didn't have that many clothes for those kind of situations, it would be good to get yourself some.

showtime!

"so" you said, walking out of the dressing room and immediatly catching the attention of changbin who was right outside of it, sitting while talking on the phone with someone.

"i'll call you back" he mumbles, turning his cellphone off.

"how do you like it?"

"does it matter?"

"it's too expensive and i won't buy it if i don't look good in it" you laughed ironically.

"i don't think arthur would be happy with you walking around seoul wearing just that" he scoffed, implying that the dress was too sluty.

"i wasn't asking for arthur's opinion" you spitted "i was asking for yours"

he shrugged his shoulders without even giving a proper answer, returning to the only activity he had been doing since the two of you arrived to the mall: using his cellphone.

"i actually need your help to get this off" you mentioned

he swallowed nervously without even looking at you, licking his lips "ask for help to the ladies that work here"

"they are busy"

you had no idea what they were doing but you needed to get changbin into the dressing room with you. he already feels guilty and i don't have anything to lose, it's not going to harm us if we add more stuff to the the record.

"just help me so we can get this over with and leave" you snarled, waiting for him to get up of the couch and walk with you to the dressing room.

the store was full of people minding their own business and, contrary to popular belief, they sold clothes both for women and men. the dressing rooms were pretty much mixed so it was not going to look weird if they saw changbin entering to one of them. besides, they had long curtains that fell right into the floor, it was impossible to look who was inside of them.

without saying a word, changbin was ready to untie the straps of the dress while looking directly at you through the mirror.

"now this brings back some memories" you said, chuckling.

changbin strucked you down with his gaze and approached the curtains with a swift movement, trying to get out of the small space the dressing room was without even helping you to get out of the dress first.

"look at me and tell me you don't find me attractive" you commanded, looking at his reflection in the mirror before he could even get himself out of there. changbin looked at you, letting out a sigh as he bit his lower lip in frustration.

"i'm sorry for what i said yesterday" he whispered angry, almost in resignation. "if that's what you want to hear so you can drop this fucking bratty attitude then i'm fucking sorry"

to be fair, that was actually what you wanted to hear since you encountered him that morning. but now that you had him there, the urge of wanting to make him feel even more guilty and ashamed just took complete power over you.

you couldn't really explained why you wanted to do all kinds of things to make him feel bad. it was probably your hatred for men, the fraternal relationship he had with your father or the fact that you found him extremely attractive, but you wanted to make him feel miserable.

"so, do you?" you inquired, stepping closer and pushing him away from the curtains.

"stop playing" he insisted, his gaze changing drastically from one moment to another. what looked like anger three seconds ago was now transformed into desire.

"it's okay" you cooed, resting your hands on both sides of his face, tilting yours to the side as your eyes fixed on his lips. "no one will find out about this, if that's what you are worried about"

he parted his lips as his tongue danced inside his mouth, grimacing in frustration "you mean about what happened" changbin dictated.

"about what happened?" you muttered, letting out a small whimper as his bulge grew against your thighs. "or about what will continue on happening?"

one of his hands approached the back of your head, gripping your hair harshly while lifting your face. "you know your father would fucking kill me if he finds out"

a victorious smile appeared on your lips. he just gave in.

"isn't that more fun?"

before you could finish the sentence, changbin's lips attacked yours. the kiss was sloppy and needy, as if he had been wanting to do this exact thing all the evening. his hands traveled to your lower back as he pressed you against him even harder.

his sweet taste and the friction between his bulge and your thigh almost made you give in as well, but you couldn't.

you had to prove yourself that you were still in control of the situation.

just a bit more.

his lips left your mouth to pepper kisses all over your jawline and neck. the way his breathing sounded was heavenly, making you start to feel the heat forming at your core. he looked at your face every now and then, as if he enjoyed the gestures you made by trying to hold back your moans.

okay, that's enough.

"a public restroom and now a dressing room" you shighed, as your hands pushed him away of you "i knew you were desperate but i didn't know how much"

his face contorted in anger, clenching his jaw as he saw you picking up your clothes from the floor.

"don't think too highly of yourself, changbin" you mumbled, looking at him before opening the curtain "you are a man, and men are just so easy"

you walked through the whole store with the dress on and your regular clothes under your arm.

"my boyfriend is paying for this, he is right behind me." and with that being said, you left the store.

*

as you were hiding yourself in the public bathrooms of the mall, you called ryujin.

"i'm at the coex" you said "can you please pick me up, i kind of need to talk with you"

"you want to grab some a snack?" she asked, and you could almost listen how she immediatly got up from her bed to get dressed.

"yeah, but not here" you replied. before hangin up, ryujin gave you a "gotcha" and you continued on changing you back to your previous clothes. you had no bag to carry the dress, so you exited the mall grabbing it like you just stole it.

you patiently waited for ryujin to pick you up, and it was actually earlier than you anticipated.

"there's a lovely coffee shop a few blocks from here"

*

"and that's pretty much what happened" you concluded, just as you finished telling ryujin the whole bar incident and the dressing-room idea you had that evening. she looked at you surprised, as if she just had witnessed a crime.

"so you had your first orgasm ever with a stranger on a public restroom?" she asked, almost on the brink of laughing hysterically.

"i just told you that i engaged in sexual activities with the most despicable men on earth who happens to be my father's right hand and that's everything you could pick up?" you replied, sipping from your iced coffee.

"pretty much, yeah" she joked "i don't remember him"

"yeah, why would you?" you teased her "you were pratically flirting with every man on the table and almost eating the soul out of one of them"

"chan" ryujin said softly.

"oh, so you got his name?"

"not only his name but his number" she mumbled as she held her cellphone almost in a victorious manner.

"so you have been talking to him?"

"kind of" the blonde-haired replied "apparently they are going to have a gathering at his house and he invited me" she then made a long pause "wait, you should come!"

changbin was definitely going to be there. another interaction you could decline but still chose not to.

"yeah i should come"

*

as soon as you got home, you fell completely asleep. it was only 6:00 p.m., but last night you barely had a good night of sleep because ryujin kept moving around and the thought of what happened in the bar wouldn't leave you alone.

as you woke up from your nap, your phone had a couple of unread messages from both hyejin and arthur.

[6:13 p.m., hyejin]

i'm going to grab something to eat with hyuna. arthur said he was probably going to go out to eat with ara and her family so if you want to have dinner just order something with my credit card.

[7:21 p.m., arthur]

i'm going to have dinner at ara's tonight.

with her family.

changbin said he had a great time with you today and since you were going to be at home, he insisted to make you company at dinner time.

i'm glad you two are getting alone

either he was completely stupid or he definetly trusted changbin with his life because no man would ever let her daughter spend time alone with a man.

but that was not even the worse part: you knew where this whole thing was going to.

a great time? you made him pay 620,000 korean wons and humiliated him on a public dressing room. i mean, you did have a great time but you weren't quite sure he did.

before you could start overthinking the whole situation, you heard how the doorbell went off. fuck, well, if i don't open the door he won't be able to come in.

the doorbell went off again, and you just chose to ignore it.

[9:33 p.m. unknown number]

i know you are there

your father told me you were going to be at home

[9:35 p.m. unknown number]

you do know that i have the keys of the house since i spend a lot of time here working with your father here, right?

now you were starting to feel nervous. not only because you were, obviously, going to have to pay for the dress you practically stole, but because you were quite unsure if you could still have the self-control you had earlier today in case he approached you in that way.

but he probably hated you now just as much as you did.

maybe he just wants his money back.

while you were threading your thoughts, you heard how the front door of the house opened. quickly you got out of bed and ran downstairs with hyejin's card on your hand to encounter him before he could even get further into the house.

"just take the 600,000 wons" you said, extending your arm to lend him the credit card number and code.

he scoffed at you, ignoring it.

"i don't give a fuck about the money" he mumbled, approaching you as your back slammed against a cold wall.

oh, just casual rich behavior.

"now i'm the one who wants an apology for the show you did at coex" now this was what you were fearing. his lips dangerously close to you, his scent mixed with mint and cigarettes flooding all your senses.

changbin was fine. his body, even though you hadn't seen it in all his glory, was extremely well built and he knew it; the clothes he wore only accentuating more his manly figure... and here comes the part of the self-control.

"you said my father was going to kill you" you stuttered, trying to look away from his face that was merely centimeters away from yours.

"and isn't that more fun, princess?" princess, that fucking petname again. changbin was using the exact same words that left your mouth hours ago to tease you. "if you don't want this, then tell me. but do it now, because if we move forward i don't think i'll be able to stop"

you swallowed thickly. you knew exactly what he was talking about and the proposal he was making, but wasn't that a bit too rushed? besides, the hatred you felt towards him grew bigger by the minute. wasn't that a bad idea?

but then again, wasn't it a very good idea? you could prove changbin that you didn't thought too highly of yourself for nothing and you would be able to mess with your father's pride... it was just a very good offer you couldn't decline.

"i don't have all night, y/n" he grunted, still looking at you with starving eyes.

"it's you who has to think this through" you whispered, trying to keep the eye-contact with him. "i don't have anything to lose, but you on the other hand..."

"if this is done right, no one will lose anything" changbin replied, brushing his lips softly against your chin "and in exchange, i'll have you begging for me the rest of the days you spend here in korea"

that single statement made you blush, but you wouldn't let changbin acknowledge the power he held over you.

"i don't beg"

changbin gripped your hair and pushed your body down, making you fall into your knees.

"use your words, princess" he said while maintaining eye contact with you "for the last time, tell me that you truly want this and then we can move on to something more interesting"

you were unable to hold your tongue from licking your lips at the sight of his bulge. "i do" you said softly, almost inaudible, but it was good enough for changbin to take you.

his grip on your hair stopped and you were able to stand up, following him into the living room of arthur's house as he rested his whole weight in one of the couches. "come here" he ordered.

he sat down while spreading his legs and it was only then that you noticed how cozy his lap looked. unsure of what to do next, you climbed on top of him, your barely-clothed core making contact with his cock under his pants; just that fraction of contact was all it took to get a whiny moan out of you.

"what exactly where you trying to achieve at the dressing room anyways?" he inquired with a mocking tone.

"i just wanted to get back at you" you admitted, trying so hard to ignore the pressure between your thighs.

"and did you enjoyed it?"

"i did"

changbin licked his lips as he let out a soft laugh, trying to find a decent reasoning behind your behavior.

"well i'm glad you enjoyed it because it didn't work at all" he stated. "no matter how hard you tried to control yourself earlier today, you still ended up craving my touch"

his hands toured your naked thighs and stopped at the elastic of your pijama shorts.

"it doesn't matter" you hissed with strangled breath as his fingers dance around your shorts and skin "i still got what i wanted"

"and what was that?" his hands were now at your hips, holding you so thightly that could anticipate a few bruises there.

"to see you drowning in embarrassement" you admit, looking directly into him. "it was a pretty fun sight"

"i bet" he grunted, lifting ever so slightly his hips and making the pressure between your thighs increase immediatly.

a sudden moan escaped your lips, provoking changbin to smile. "do you want to count again?" he teased, talking about the bar incident.

your hands grabbed his shoulders for support as his hands started guiding your hips over his lap.

unlike you, changbin was all dressed up in his black pants and white shirt he had on earlier today. as soon as you arrived home you changed into more comfortable clothes, your pink pijamas whose fabric was extremely thin, and just now you started to regret your decision of not putting more clothes on before having this encounter with him.

"i need you to touch me" you admit after a few painfully seconds grinding against his bulge. it felt good, but you knew that it would feel even better if he decided to actually participate in your orgasm. besides, the scene of you pathetically grind against him in an attempt to chase your high was degrading.

he was right, both outcomes were pathetic. as you pondered, your head fell upwards and your core started to painfully clenched around thin air.

"then beg" he smiles, his hands still resting on the sides of your body. this bitch. "you don't want to because you are too proud, but how exactly are you going to feel after coming undone only by grinding on my lap without my help?"

"if that's what you want" he grunted at the absence of pleads, lifting his hips again "this is the only way you get to cum tonight"

your hips rushed the movements as you felt your pussy getting hotter, your juices making a mess on changbin's pants.

"who finds who attractive, hm?" he asked as the sight of your dripping core. "it's taking all of my self-control to not fuck you right here, right now"

"why don't you do it?" you ask in between broken moans, your hips moving at a steady pace.

"because you don't deserve it"

changbin was fucking you up and he was doing it just right. every word that came out of his mouth only made you angrier and wetter, drilling a hole on your mind by even considering beg for his touch.

"you don't deserve to fuck me either" you sighed, trying to hold back all the loud moans that wanted to escape your mouth as your clit repeatedly stroke against him.

"i don't?" he asked, mocking pain "are you sure, princess?"

the frustration of not being able to reach your high was starting to make you feel pathetic because all you wanted was to experience the exact same feeling you got at the bar.

"changbin" you whined, grabbing yourself onto his white shirt. "if you aren't going to touch me then please just do something else"

his hands moved all the way to the straps of your pijamas and he gently pushed your top down, exposing your bare breasts.

"do you never wear underwear, princess?" he growled, attaching his lips at the skin that was faintly bruised because of last night.

"fuck, changbin" you moaned, the friction between your bodies increasing as he was closer to you.

"i know you can do it without my help princess" he said, grabbing one of your hardened buds in between his lips.

the knot was starting to form on your lower abdomen at a much slower pace than before, making you let out desperate whines. "look at how messy you are being"

his mouth licked one of your nipples as his fingers played with the other, wanting to edge you until you had no choice but to beg for his touch. "fuck, changbin. i'm close"

as soon as you told him this, you felt how his body reincorporated into his seat, making the contact between your core and his lap almost inexistent. "i changed my mind, i don't want you to cum like this"

with teary eyes you looked at him. was he really going to edge you this bad? was it because you didn't beg? fuck, all you wanted was to cum and he wouldn't even let you do that peacefully.

"don't you think it's my turn?" he smirked while unbottoning his pants. oh, right, his turn.

you clearly had not much experience in that department but you wouldn't let him find that out. back in japan you were not really an enthusiast of oral sex, but you would often hear stories from your classmates talking about experiences and tips.

before you could keep recalling all the stories you heard, changbin's hands stroke your hair making you look directly at him.

he was... making you quite confused about whether if you were going to be able to take it or not. "come on princess" he encouraged as the tip of his cocked brushed your lips slightly.

getting rid of any hesitation you were quick to drag your tongue all over his lenght, earning a sigh out of him. you would be lying if you said that it didn't turned you on, because it did (more than you ever wanted to admit). slowly, he pushed his cock into your mouth making you gag over it. "good fucking girl" he whispered as he starred into your teary eyes.

changbin had one arm over his head while the other guided you to take his cock. his eyes never left yours, only ocasionally as his head fell upwards when the pleasure was too overwhelming for him. his chest was moving everytime at a faster pace, and the sounds that left his mouth were getting more frecuent. "fuck, y/n"

you were learning how to take him inside your mouth to the point that it felt too good having him there. "y/n"

"mhm?" you mumbled around his cock, making waves of pleasure travel all over changbin's body.

"touch yourself for me as you take my cock" he ordered.

you had tried several times to reach your orgasm just by masturbating and it did felt good, but for the longest time you thought that if that was what an orgasm was supposed to feel like, it wasn't so much of a big deal. that was until yesterday, when you truly felt a real one. but you assumed that by the previous stimulation, it was going to be way easier to come undone this time, even if it wasn't as powerful as the one changbin made you feel.

you started to rub your clit in circles as changbin fucked your mouth slowly without parting your gaze from his eyes. his eyes that intimidated the shit out of you and that were the main reason of why you wanted to submit immediatly for him.

"that's my good girl" changbin's grip on your hair was getting tighter and his breathing was getting heavier than before. "does it feel good baby?" he asked, watching how your eyes slightly rolled to the back of your head by the pleasure provided by your own touch and his cock inside your mouth.

"fuck" he cursed under his breath "i'm close"

with eager eyes you started to take him in even more, determined to making him finish just as you chased your own high. your fingers moved around your clit at a soft but hard pace, making that now familiar knot appear at your abdomen. "y/n"

you knew you were a couple of seconds away from your own high as changbin's hands pushed your head all the way over his cock, releasing himself into your mouth. "good fucking girl" he praised with raspy voice and quick breath.

and with the feeling of his hot cum down your throat and your drool all over him, your juices dripped onto your fingers. moaning against his cock, changbin's body trembled at the overstimulation and he quickly pulled himself out of you.

"open your mouth" he ordered while you were still coming down from your high. you did as he commanded, with the remains of his release still in your tongue. "swallow"

and so you did, tasting him.

"my pretty doll" he grunted "did you make yourself cum while your mouth was taking my cock?"

you nodded with tears streaming down your cheeks, messy hair , drool dripping onto your bare chest and your pijama shorts soaked in your own juices. that sight alone was everything for him, increasing his desires of completely ruin you in his bed... or yours... or any place.

a smirk appeared on his face as he pulled you in for a kiss, tasting himself on you.

"i fucking hate you" you whined against him, feeling how your nipples grazed with his chest. "god i fucking hate you"

and even though you did, you knew that this was only getting started both of you.

[allisoooon]

How do you think their individual powers influenced the siblings as people? Love your meta.

Thanks! I’m glad someone out there reads my walls of text.

I’m gonna skip Vanya because the answer to this question for her is like…literally the plot of season one. Though I do think her power influenced her interest in music.

There’s a bit of fanon out there about Ben’s relationship with his own powers that does have some basis in canon. According to Hargreeves’ notes, he used to cry in his sleep. Fans assume this is about how frightened he is of his own power, and that might be true—but we don’t see him afraid of his power as an adult. In the bank robbery flashback, he is very unenthused about being the team’s crowd controller, and his voice trembles when he’s done, but I’d assumed that was because he was basically an infant being forced to commit mass murder, something that went completely against his mild nature. For some reason, he’s also screaming when using his power in the theatre, almost as if in pain. I think his death, while not a good thing, at least allowed him to take a step back from being forced to hurt, maim, and kill, and we only really see him tormented by what he’s doing when he’s a child. So I do think the brutal nature of his power was what was making him miserable. We might see the ultimate result of the influence Ben’s power had over him with Sparrow!Ben, since this is a Ben who never escaped his abuser.

I personally like the idea that Five’s impatience and speed is partially based in his power. He can jump from place to place and be there quickly, but then he has to wait for everyone else to catch up. Like, wayyyyyy back in the day when we had dial-up internet, we had to be careful which websites we went to because image-heavy ones could take forrrreeeevvveeeer to load. Like, minutes to a half an hour, depending. Now, I get impatient if a page takes ten seconds to load. I think it would make sense for Five’s power to have that effect on him, where he’s frustrated by how slow some tasks are when you can’t teleport.

Klaus’ powers have made death cheap for him. I mean, he’d be self-destructive anyway, but he’s also keenly aware that death isn’t the end, but almost a part of life in itself. He gets revived after an overdose and it’s just another rush to him; he wakes up after briefly dying and just goes about his business. When facing the end of the world, he just takes hold of Dave’s dog tags and smiles wistfully. Death just doesn’t have the gravity or finality to him that it has for everyone else.

Allison more than anyone gets a power rush when she uses her ability, and that has led to her entire life, essentially. I wonder if she would even have gone for acting if she didn’t have her power, or if her power just encouraged her to reach for the loftiest ambitions she could think of. One day, in her childhood, she realized she could have anything she wanted, so her imagination ran wild. I like this idea because if you notice, any time she’s recognized in public, she’s a bit uncomfortable. Then, the happiest she has ever been in her life is when she wasn’t acting, but working alongside her husband to help people. So I wonder if she ever actually wanted the life her power gave her.

Diego’s roguelike power makes him the DPS guy, so to speak, but I think it also influenced the style of vigilantism he chose. His power is swift and quiet, so that’s what he is. We first see him sneakily Batmanning into someone else’s house and taking out the bad guys before they have time to react, and that tells us what we need to know about how he approaches the world. He can be very methodical—it’s just that sometimes, his methods are, um, not great. Occasionally they’re pretty dumb (cutting off Lee Harvey Oswald’s TRIGGER FINGER?). But whether he’s being competent or not, he always seems to have a specific idea for how he’ll approach.

Luther is the tank, and like all tanks, his chief purpose is defense. The scene that always plays in my head when I think about how Luther’s power influences his life and relationships is in the nuclear apocalypse scene in 2.01, when he takes a fucking rocket to the back to protect Klaus. This actually contrasts with the bank robbery flashback in 1.01, where his power is shown when he clonks a guy’s head before throwing him out the window across the building. In season one, he was a tank attempting to be DPS. In season two, he’s finding his place as the family’s guardian rather than the family’s heavy-hitter. Which he seems to be so much happier with.

[mxvladdy]

Hi! just finished reading your Tumblr request on AO3 and I just looooove your writing ;; if it's not a problem I wanted to ask how you imagine that Lucifer, Mammon and Beel would react to a MC who is usually very quiet and not very expressive, impossible to embarrass or make nervous, to suddenly, one day manage to make her blush for the first time (Also, English is not my first language, so I hope this is okey) I wish you a lovely week ❤

A/N: This is adorable! Sorry for the slow turn around, I hope you enjoy!❤

Lucifer

Stoicism is something he normally finds very attractive in a woman. To be able to keep such a level of calm outlook during even times that might even shake him. He loves the idea of a power couple, and the way you hold yourself. You definitely make one.

It does grate him that he can’t fluster you like you do him, especially during your time together in private. He tries multiple ways to even just draw some color to your cheeks. Flowers in the classroom, hand written invitations to private dining establishments and venues, he even went to the human realm just to find some kind of familiar comfort to give to you. You love them all he knows but he wants, craves to see an uninhibited reaction from you. He’ll get it one day, his pride depends on it at this point.

Luck graces him one evening after a hellish work day. A fight in the school yard leading to property damage he had to do extra paper work for. The only saving grace of that was it wasn’t one of his brothers, this time. Only followed soon after by a report of yet another racket engineered by Mammon. Then, to top off a horrible day one of Belphie and Satan’s little “pranks” blew up half his office.

All his loose or unprotected paperwork, gone. Nothing but smoldering bits of ash. He was now more than ever thankful to have you by his side. Before he could get his hands on the two you stepped in shooing him away to deal with the other fires that needed to be put out while you handled his office.

Things got done, in record time for once. He was able to rewrite his notes for the next council meeting, but at the cost of your weekday dinner together. A pity, but he knew you understood. Trudging up to his room he looked forward to perhaps a few hours of sleep before the next crisis struck. Then he found you.

He chuckles to himself quietly leaning against his door frame. You had beaten him to his favorite resting roost. You sat on his favorite armchair, rolled up tight in his comforter. All he could see was a tuft of hair and the very tip of your nose. Beautiful as always, but he wanted to rest. Well-two birds, one stone and all…

He scoops you up envious of how deeply you could slumber and places you on his lap. Kicking off his shoes he sighs blissfully before resting his head back on worn leather.

Mini fic

You didn’t expect to see Lucifer tonight. Today has been the absolute definition of a shit show, on nights like these it wasn’t uncommon for you not to see him at all. You would normally place your bets on him being unconscious at his desk. Though, he couldn’t really do that tonight. You pat yourself on the back mentally knowing that he would be pleased with the work you and the brothers did cleaning up his office. While you couldn’t get them to apologize to Lucifer you at least got them to clean up what was salvageable in his study.

After a few hours of cleaning his office was back in working order and your feet were screaming for a break. Bidding the two miscreants farewell and making them promise to hold off on the pranks for at least a week you let your body lead you to Lucifer’s room. The room was how you left it that morning. Your slippers next to his by the door and your robe tossed haphazardly on his linen sheets. You make a beeline for the only piece of furniture Lucifer loved dearly. How many nights had you snuck in only to see him melting into the old chain. His long legs sprawled out and tangled in his foot rest, while his body sinks into the imprints he has left from years of use like a lover's embrace.

Yanking the thin comforter from his bed you curl into the divots with a yawn. Before you know it your eyes close and the crackling of the fireplace lulls you to sleep. You awake with a jolt, confused and disoriented for a moment before your sleepy brain catches up. You fell asleep alone on the soft leather but woke to something unyielding beneath you now.

Lucifer sits underneath you snoring softly. His arms rest around your blanketed body. His head tilts down over you, his nose tickling your hairline. Like always he sports a mild look of annoyance. His lips were drawn in a scowl, brows crinkling in displease. You could tell his jaw was tense even while he slept.

Freeing your arms from your cocoon you reach up from him moving to cup his twitching jaw. With practiced ease you began to message the pin joints. You smile to yourself moving down to his tense neck and shoulders. This had become a nightly ritual for you when you shared a bed. When you knew he was asleep you would start trying to work away some of his tension from the previous day. You swear in the morning that he looks better on the nights you get the chance to.

This was your little secret though. You couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing you did this. Not that you thought he would disapprove. Lucifer appreciated acts of service, but just the thought of him knowing made your whole body heat in a flush. You push the thoughts away focusing instead on the extremely tight muscles underneath his brow line. It amazed you that he didn’t have any wrinkles after all this.

So engrossed in your perusal of his features you didn’t notice him stirring till his warm palm traps your hand to his cheek. Before you realize it his lips push a firm kiss into the flesh of your palm. Scarlet eyes meet yours crinkling around the edges. They were warm and radiant. “You’re blushing.” His voice was deep and husky from what little sleep he got.

“What?” You stammer.

Lucifer leans in tapping his forehead on yours. He studies your wide eyes and pink face for a moment before cracking a smug grin. “I’ve never seen you flustered before. Your blush looks good on you.”

“You caught me off guard.” He nods, kissing the tip of your nose tenderly taking impish glee in your squirming.

“Good-I will strive to do so more often. I wish to see you as undone as you make me.”

Mammon

Stoic MC? Rare pair? Rare pair. Mammon wears his heart on his sleeve. Nothing about him is slick. From week one everyone knew he had it bad for you. He is so open with his affections whether he likes it or not. Unlike you.

Honestly, how were you always so controlled. Ain’t the dame supposed to be all blushy and giggly too? It-it makes him think he isn’t doing something right. Is he not treating you right? Were you unhappy?

So he goes to do what he does best. Scheme. There has to be someway to crack that stoic disposition of yours. He gets clingy-well clingier now. He starts springing random vacations on you. Expect to skip class whenever he thinks he won’t get skinned alive for it.

He’ll take you anywhere all his internet research tells him to. Black sand beaches, crowded boardwalks to see the lights, deserted hiking trails late in the evening to watch the fireflies. He is sure it will work. But nope, nada. You love every moment of it and show him with a soul searing kiss and sweet words of praise. But damn you if you aren’t always so cool about it.

He is about to throw in the towel when he finally gets what he wants. At work no less. It was completely by accident but he isn’t one to complain. Perhaps he should go to work more often.

Mini Fic

“Pucker up!” Mammon’s make-up artist orders, squeezing his cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “And for Diavolo’s sake put your phone down.”

“Shove off Cazzin.” Mammon sputters around the sour tasting lip stain and plumper. His eyes still glued to his screen. His freshly done nails swiping at picture after picture of fancy hotels and spas. Just thinking about taking you a private spring got his blood boiling in the best ways.

“Woooow.” Cazz whistles through her fangs looking at his screen. “Who is the lucky lady you are trying to impress this time?

“Mammon bristles, shooting her a murderous glance. The smaller demon blanches, purple skin turning ashy with fear. Her eyes drop to the floor immediately in submission, a sincere apology falling from her lips. “My girlfriend.” He says finally after cooling down. “I’m-I’m trying to impress her or something.”

“Well, pretty sure with a price tag like that anyone would be impressed.” Mammon only grunts barely glancing at the excessive amount of zeros on the page. Any other girl he knew would be a blushing mess after getting a gift like this. Hells, even Cazz was eyeing the site with open envy and excitement. Yet, this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this with you. Every time he did all he got was a blisteringly radiant smile and kisses that probably could send him back to heaven if he didn’t have a life long ban there. Not that that was a bad thing...but he just wanted more.

“You would think so…” He trails off clicking his phone off to focus on the rest of his routine. No sooner had his hair and make-up artist finished then his director was stomping and shouting down the hall for him to get his ass on set. Grimacing Mammon slides off his seat stretching to spare himself a few more seconds of peace. He stops at the door taking one last look at his get up for this shoot.

Damn, he looks good. It was time for a new spring collection, but more importantly, his most popular season. The light spring colors always brought out his best features. The pastel cotton shirt they “fashionably” threw him in hung casually around his frame. Buttons “tastefully” undone to show the smooth planes of his freely waxed and oiled skin. The linen board shorts and finishing touch of leather sandals gave him the perfect beach vibe. At top dollar mind you.

Hmmm-perhaps he could borrow this outfit for your next beach outing.

Unable to tone out his bosses shouting anymore Mammon makes his way to set. He thinks hard on what else he can go or take you to impress you, ignoring the poking and prodding of his camera men and set designers. His partners today, two incubus twins stood sourly next to him. They had been at this for hours and even he was ready for a break from the sweltering heat of the lights.

“Alright! Alright!” The director broke an hour later tired of the twins whining. He throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “We’ll break for an hour for lunch- lost the light as is.” He huffs stumping off for a smoke break.

“Finally,” Mammon sighs from his pose on the ground. “Think I got sand in my ass.” He gets up from the ground grimacing as he tries to brush the grit off his legs. “Shit starts to burn when they get hot.” One of the twins nods looking down at their own arms. Tiny burn marks showing on their fair skin, they will heal by the time the shoot resumes, doesn’t mean they will be happy about it.

“Want to grab lunch?” The twins ask tossing him a towel to blot at his sweating brow. “New food truck is coming in today.” Mammon shakes his head. You had packed him something to eat this morning and he kind of wanted to enjoy it in peace for once.

Waving the two off he hurries back to his room already salivating at whatever tasty food you got him. Halfway to the door he stops, the fine hairs on his neck standing up. Someone was in his dressing room. Devil’s please don’t let it be another rabid fan. He pleads before creeping forward to check. Whoever it was left the door ajar, peaking in he stares enraptured.

When did you get here? It wasn’t abnormal for you to just drop by while he was working, but you usually waited for him on set behind the cameras. You sit humming to yourself reading something on your lap, feet kicking out innocently while you wait for him. Flipping a page he gets a glimpse of what you’re reading. His feathers ruffle in satisfaction. He had plans on showing you these shots before their release date. They still needed approval from his director but he knew they were great. You flip through shot after shot humming or nodding at some. One shot makes you stop fully, eyes growing wide.

Mammon snorts to himself, knowing exactly which photo you stopped on. The next issue was focusing on “Elegance in the work space”, whatever that means. His designer for the projects went a little overboard with the cuts and designs of the business suites he was to model. The sketches and drafts she had thrust at him had made his head spin. They were all amazing in his opinion, but one had been killer, everyone had agreed on that. If he didn’t know any better he was certain that it would put him on the cover. By the way you were looking at it, he was hoping it would.

That suit really complimented all of his features. It was form fitting accenting his slim waist but hid the slight sloping of his shoulders. The gold of the threading of his vest was done up in soft floral patterns that popped against the dark navy blue of the suit's fabric. The dark blue really brought out the lightness of his eyes. The look was topped off with a bright yellow silk pocket square, polished leather wingtips and gold cufflinks. He was about to interrupt you when he saw it, that one thing he wanted more than anything.

The pink starts at your ears swiping across the bridge of your nose before blooming on your round cheeks. It was breathtaking. Thinking he was being sneaky, Mammon whips out his phone for a quick picture, no one would believe him unless he had solid evidence. But the flash gives him away.

“Mammon!” You jump caught, hands flying to cover your warm face.

“Oi! None of that!” Mammon moves quickly snatching your hands away from your face beaming. “I’ve been waiting for ages to see this face on ya, an’ all it took was a picture of me?”

“You- you clean up really nicely, Mammon.” His hearts flutter at your soft admission.

“Huh,” Mammon scratches his neck, feeling his own blush coming forth. “Well- I mean I could do that more often, so long as you keep looking at me like this when I do.” He picks up the stack of photos from the floor where you dropped them in surprise. “Ya know- I still got that suit.”

Your face turns molten- oh he was going to have a field day with this.

Beelzebub

Doesn’t even notice at first. He is kind of the same way with expressing himself too- unless food is involved. So if you are content then he is content, so who cares if you don’t show it on your face?

Well- he didn’t care, until Belphie brought it up. His twin didn’t mean anything by it; he knew that, but it made him wonder. He trusts you when you say you are happy, you have no reason to lie to him. But date nights, game nights, and family dinners you were always so impassive.

It makes him wonder, not enough to ask you though. Truthfully, he is a little embarrassed that he can’t read you as you do him. He won’t force it like his brothers might. He is patient and hopes one day it will just come naturally like it does for him around you.

Mini Fic

Beel watches you over his lunch. You two were silent as you ate, but that was to be expected on days like these. The school cafe was packed with students all jockeying to get a place in line for today’s special. He had gotten there early for the both of you to gap a few of the specials and sides before they were gone. “Are you ok?” He puts his fork down leaning in close to speak to you across the small table. It creaks dangerously under the weight of his elbows on it. You look up from your tea mug. He smiles at your perpetually mild expression, your eyes were hard but your lips and brows were relaxed giving away nothing.

“Of course.” You smile up at him, face smooth and controlled. “Just excited about tonight.”

Hmph, could have fooled him. Beel leans back, studying you intently. He hopes you were as excited as he was for tonight. A new arcade had opened on the edge of town last week and he thought it would be a great date night for the two of you. He had expressed to you on several occasions how he was looking forward to the roller rink and the hoop games. You seemed eager, giving him a closed lip grin every time he brought it up. “Me too.” Beel says finally turning back to his food. “Think we will win any prizes?”

You snort dismissively. “Us? The dream team? I would be surprised if we didn’t win something. Have you seen the plushies?” You pull out your phone and show him their Devilgram. “I want to try and get the hydra one…” You prattle on and scroll through all the cute prizes on their site. He nods along taking a mental note of all the ones that you pointed at, determined to get each and every one for you.

School goes by quickly, far too quickly for him. Each tick of the clock caught him by surprise, jacking his nerves up more and more. It wasn’t like it was his first date with you, but it never stopped the butterflies from starting in his stomach. After school he changes quickly and waits for you by your bedroom door. He fiddles with the zipper of his jacket until you finally open your door.

“Ready?” The smile you throw up at him is breathtaking. “Hope you don’t mind my get up. You mentioned a roller ring so I figured something sporty and functional would be appropriate.” You kick out a leg waving a hand over your bright sport leggings.

Beel chuckles offering you his large hand. “You look adorable as always.”

Being with you was as easy as breathing to him now. After all your time together in the house getting to know you you became one of his closest friends, even before you started dating. You shared many of his interests and wasn’t afraid to argue your point if you saw fit. You fill the train ride to the arcade with idle chatter, goofy selfies to send to his siblings, and annoying the other passengers with your ill-contained chuckles.

The place itself was packed but well spread out to handle the massive throngs of demons and beasts coming for drinks and a good time. “Come on!” You shout over the other very drunk and very loud customers tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s get some coins and find an empty station.” He lets you lead. You take full advantage of his impressive frame to part the crowds around you as you hunt for a free spot. “See anything?”

Beel peers over the heads of most of the demons and looks out. In the far corner sat a few jump rope games that were free. “Stay close.” He murmurs in your ear wrapping a protective arm your shoulders so you wouldn’t be swept away in the flow of the crowd. The games were...hard. Mentally Beel kicks himself. Of course an arcade in the Devildom wouldn’t be geared for humans. They were built for demons' fast reflexes and inhuman strength. You were a good sport about it though, cheering him on when the games began to move too fast for your senses. If a game broke in his zeal to get you tickets, well you were both fast walkers.

“Think we have enough?” Beelzebub asks hours later around a popsicle. His jacket pockets bulge with multicolored tickets screaming to be spent.

You hum around a scoop of ice cream. “Possibly-” Your eyes flick to the prize booth. “And extra, you want a plushie too?” He shrugs. No doubt the moment it got into his room Belphie will steal it to add to his horde.

You end up getting your stuffed hydra and a giant fuzzy minotaur to keep it “company”. You clutch them close to your chest, seemingly happy with your bounties. After that you spend a bit at the roller ring before you finally had to call it a night. Exhausted you lag behind Beel as you make your way back to the train station, feet dragging with each step.

Wordlessly, Beel stops just in front of you. “Here,” He squats, offering you his back, arms stretched out behind him. “I can take us the rest of the way to the stop.” He feels you hesitate for a moment before climbing on to his back.

“Thank you.” He thinks nothing of how soft your voice was, just barely a tickle at the base of his neck. Beel treks one once you are secure, stuffing his hands in his pockets to lock you in place. The rest of the walk was quiet but he didn’t mind it, your warm body and soft breathing in his ear was a comfort.

He stops at the benches with a few minutes to spare before your train. “We are here. Do you want-” He gasps quietly, cutting himself off before he could accidentally wake you. You sleep on unperturbed by his voice. Your hold on around his neck was tight, your head buried in his neck.

It seems only when you're sleeping do you let your guard down. A blush sweeps across your face, your lips pulled up into a serene smile. You looked-happy. Happy in a way he never saw before. He won’t say anything about it, he decides. He’ll cherish this tiny expression all the same. Perhaps one day he’ll see when you're awake too.

[streetlight11]

Dystopia pt 8 (FINALE)

Summary: You were an Amity born. You were taught to value kindness and harmony. But you also valued bravery and knowledge. After the test to see which faction best suited you, you were given the choice to either stay in your faction or leave. When you chose to leave your faction for another, your whole life changed and you wondered if it was the right decision. You pondered over it at first, all until you met him.

Theme: Divergent au, strangers to lovers

Genre: mild action [I tried], angst, fluff, slowburn

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Trainer!Jungkook x Initiate!FemReader

Tips: In this whole series, Y/N is a few years younger than JK. Those who were initiates like Y/N that just ended the Choosing Ceremony, are all the same age. None of these characters portray who the mentioned people are in real life whatsoever! It's just a fictional character!

a/n: Hello! Guess what? You made it to the end! I know this is a short series but I'm more than thankful if you have made it this far. Although it's quite short for a finale, I hope I didn't disappoint you too much! But anyways, here's the final part for this series :) Enjoyyy

~~~

With hurried steps, all three of them quickly hollered their way through the facility in hopes that they would reach the dorms in time. Jungkook’s heart was beating so fast against his chest, unsure if he could even calm himself down knowing something bad had happened to you. That was the last thing he wanted. From the day he saw you a few weeks back, he knew he would like you.

He knew there was something about you that leaves him being all clammy and nervous despite his amazing skill at hiding his emotions. Jungkook never knew he would manage to get close to you, thinking it was impossible considering he was a trainer and you were an initiate.

However, it looks like fate has a different plan for you and him when he saw you training by yourself in the middle of the night. That was when he first got to have a close interaction with you.

Even though it was just him teaching you basic tips on how to improve your skills for each of the different skill sets, he still got to talk to you and also earn your trust after a while. And as the days gradually went by, it was needless to say that Jungkook had grown so fond of you and even had a crush on you.

Yes, a Dauntless Trainer having a crush on a Dauntless Initiate.

How cute.

Ultimately, it all goes downhill for him as he finally arrives at the shared dormitory, only to find the rest of the initiates crowding around at one spot. The minute Jungkook and Changkyun pushed through the crowd, their hearts stopped for a millisecond upon seeing what the fuss was about.

There you were, cradled in Hyunjae’s arms as Gahyeon was crying with her hands desperately pressing what looks to be a completely blood soaked towel against your throat.

Your throat has been slit, not too deep to kill you but just enough to render you voiceless.

You were just turning around on your bed when you peeked your eyes open out of instinct, feeling as though you were being watched. Except, you weren’t expecting for it to be legit. Because the minute you opened your eyes, there was a hooded figure looming over you with a hand raised to their head level with what looks to be a knife from the Training Room.

Fuck!

Before your mind could react, your body seemed to move faster as your arms swiveled to a cross position over your face right when the person launched his attack to your head.

With the tip of its blade just barely missing your right eye socket.

You used all your energy to shove their hand away using your arms, only to kick their stomach harshly. They stumbled back a little before lunging back at you. However, you quickly rolled out of bed to your left, falling to the ground with a soft thud just as they plunged the blade into the mattress right where your chest would’ve been.

You rushed to your feet, making a break for it to the open toilet but your steps faltered when you felt a sharp stab to your calf.

“Ah! Fuck!” You loudly hissed to yourself.

The blade got pulled out of your leg harshly, only for you to flip around on the ground.

The person kneeled over you as they tried to stab you in the face again but you managed to grab their wrist with both hands. They were strong. A little too strong if you say so yourself. However, for some reason, you felt like you knew this person.

You were struggling. You were struggling hard to push their hand away. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you used all your power to push them back.

For a moment, you were glad that they nearly fell off you.

However, you weren’t mentally and physically ready for what he was about to do next. And that was for him to make one swift swing of his arm. It all happened so fast, you didn’t even realize what he did until you felt something wet trickle down your neck. You tried to curse at them but instead you were shocked when nothing came out of your mouth.

That wasn’t until one of your hands reached up for your throat and you felt it.

The open slit, the feeling of wet liquid, your nostrils filling with the strong smell of copper, and finally, bringing your fingers up to see your fingers coated in your own red crimson blood.

Your mouth hung agape as you tried to speak but there was nothing. Tears welled up in your eyes as the person got up and smirked down at you.

“Goodnight loser. I hope you rot in hell.”

They soon took off running, leaving you there helpless with no voice to scream for help, to tell people who did it. But of course, you weren’t stupid. Despite the lack of light, only an idiot couldn’t catch on easily. For there is only one person who calls you ‘Loser’ right from the start. Your doubts were confirmed the minute that nickname left their lips.

Dumb move Yeonjun.

Since you couldn’t scream for help, you slowly began to drag yourself across the room, leaving a long trail of blood behind your leg where you got stabbed only to reach the end of Gahyeon’s bed.

With one swift grasp, you managed to hold onto her shirt and that was enough to wake her.

It took her a second to realize what happened until she saw the trail of blood on the floor and your bleeding throat that you were desperately putting pressure on. She let out a shrilling scream before yelling for help from the others. Everyone began to panic at the gruesome scene, making Hyunjae cradle you while Yunho rushed out to get help.

Jungkook carried you to the hospital wing, with Gahyeon, Hyunjae, Yunho and Changkyun tagging along. One of the nurses inspected your injury, seeing that you’ve lost quite a bit of blood. She mentioned that they had to give you some blood in order to save you and they have to be the same blood type as yours. After much inspection, it was clear that only Jungkook and Hyunjae shared the same blood type as you.

Both of them offered to donate some of their blood to you to save your life. While the two were being drawn of their blood, Changkyun went ahead and brought the other two back to their dormitory to rest. You were already laying there on the medical bed unconscious which means you couldn’t feel the way Gahyeon gently gave your blood coated hands a small squeeze.

“Please be okay, Y/N.” She whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. Yunho comforted the girl before they both left with Changkyun.

A few minutes later, the nurse managed to collect as much blood as you probably needed after losing them quite a bit. She placed a bandaid over the spots where she injected the tube in their arms. After she was done, she dismissed the two boys but Jungkook asked if he could stay.

She nodded, setting up the equipment so that the blood she collected from the two gentlemen could be transferred into your body through the IV in your hand.

Hyunjae left after caressing the top of your head, wishing you a speedy recovery.

The nurse went ahead and disinfected your wounds before suturing the open cuts and wrapping them with bandages. Once she was done, she excused herself, leaving you alone with Jungkook as the male went over to scoot his chair closer to your side. Jungkook carefully reaches for your hand that didn’t have the needle attached. He brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry this happened to you Y/N. You truly don’t deserve this…” Jungkook whispered as he stood up to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He felt sorry. He felt sick. He felt confused. But more importantly, he felt furious at whoever did this to you. Of course he didn’t know who but you knew.

You woke up to a sharp pain in your throat, feeling it get itchy like an unusual sore throat. The prickling pain in your right calf made your leg jolt as you shot your tired eyes open. The morning sun filled the room. You carefully looked around to find you alone in the room which looks to be the hospital wing.

Memories from last night suddenly came flashing into your mind like a tsunami, and yet, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

Did that really happen?

Was it all a dream?

You almost didn’t want to believe it until your hands reached up to your throat and you felt the soft material of the bandage taped onto your neck. Of course, your stubbornness was trying to make you think otherwise so you opened your mouth to speak.

Truth be told, nothing comes out of your mouth. Absolutely nothing. Not even a sound.

Your thoughts were swirling, a million things running across your head at that very moment. From the incident last night to the final evaluation test you were supposed to have today. The test was supposed to determine your final results of your initiation. It was supposed to determine whether you get to stay in Dauntless or you get kicked out and become Factionless.

Of course, there are two ways of getting that second option. First is by failing Stage 3, and second is of course by not attending the final test at all.

How wonderful.

As your mind was swirling with these complications, you completely missed the figure that was making their way to you. It wasn’t until they were a few feet from you that you looked up only to lock eyes with Jungkook.

Immediately, a whole swarm of emotions came rushing through you as you began to cry. Jungkook rushed over to you, only to hush you.

“Shh… Shh… Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re fine. I’m here.” Jungkook cooed as he held you in his arms, feeling the way your arms wrapped around his waist tightly like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go. His heart swelled upon feeling his shirt get soaked from your tears.

Your silent cries only made his heart drop even more. Jungkook caressed the back of your head lovingly, making sure to give you small reassuring kisses to the side of your head as a way to hopefully calm you down.

You both stayed like that for a bit before he sang you a sweet song in your ear.

Jungkook felt your body relax in his touch, happy that his singing made you calmer. After a while, he pulled away slowly to look you in the eye. How is it possible that you are just sitting there crying your eyes out and yet you still looked beautiful? Or maybe it’s just him.

Who knows.

Nevertheless, he wipes your tears with his thumbs and soon smiles down at you.

“You’re so strong. You’re a strong girl Y/N. And I really admire you for that.” He whispered. You couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile when you felt him boop your nose with his own. You had so much to say to him. So much you wanted to share with him. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side today. Just then, Jungkook’s smile faltered and it made you curious.

You reached for his wrist where his hand was just cupping your face softly, to catch his attention. You silently asked him what’s wrong through your worried eyes, hoping he could read your mind.

Thankfully, he did.

“The final stage… It starts in 5 minutes. I talked to the leaders about your current condition. I tried my best to change their mind, Changkyun did try too… Unfortunately, the leaders made an agreement to… disqualify you, which means… y-you…” Jungkook paused as he struggled to convey the message to you but you already knew what it meant.

You violently shook your head at him. You had to redeem yourself. You didn’t plan for this to happen. You were forced to be in this damn medical bed out of your own will. Oh if only they saw who did this to you, would they gladly throw him to the Factionless.

“Decision has been made. Since you can’t physically be there, you’re immediately disqualified.” Jungkook said as you shook your head again. There must be something about the way you were staring at him because at that very moment, it was as though you sent him a message through telepathy.

“Wait a minute… For the final test, you don’t need to talk. You… just need to be physically there for the simulation.” Jungkook said in realization as your eyes lit up.

“Does that mean… she’s immediately disqualified?” Gahyeon asked sadly, only for Hyunjae to nod.

“I mean, technically according to the rules, you are supposed to be here physically for the final test… So, I guess that’s true then…” Hyunjae said.

The rest of them who were gathered by the side of the hall where the final stage would take place, shared mostly the same emotions about you not being able to join them which would render you as Factionless by default even after all your hard work.

However, it looks like someone couldn’t care less about you not making it.

“Who cares? She doesn't belong in Dauntless anyway.” Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he walks to the front, leaning against one of the pillars. Your friends exchanged a few glances to one another, not feeling good about the way he said that. A few minutes passed, and they had just finished the test with the third person on the list. All the initiates were anxious as they waited for their turn. Soon enough, the Dauntless leader calls out the next name to be on stage.

“Y/F/N.”

With that, the room fell silent as the initiates looked at each other with deep frowns on their faces. A few beats of silences went by, not a single sign of you anywhere. Meanwhile, Yeonjun had that devilish smirk on his face as he felt satisfied with your lack of presence.

Unfortunately, just as the leader was about to call out the next person on the list, Jungkook’s voice echoed around the hall from the opposite end of where the initiates were gathered. That’s when Jungkook emerged through the double doors with you beside him.

He had one arm wrapped around your waist as you limped your way to the platform where the chair was waiting for you. Your friends cheered for your arrival as they shouted a string of goodlucks to you. Yeonjun growled, totally not expecting to find you still alive.

Maybe he didn’t cut you deep enough.

You immediately recognized the lady who was prepping the tools to put you into simulation, to be the same lady you met on your Initiation test.

After you sat down, Jungkook gave your waist a little squeeze before he smiled down at you and whispered, “Goodluck.”

He soon left your side as the lady asked you if you were ready. You gave her a small nod, letting her inject the needle into your neck right below your ear.

Once the serum had been injected into your system, it took effect right away, bringing you to your first simulation. It was the same simulations you went through during your Stage 2. They were all of your fears connecting one simulation to the other. You managed to remember what Jungkook taught you during the past few weeks and how to properly handle each situation like a fellow Dauntless.

The minute your last simulation ended, you woke up calmly only for the lady to smile.

“You did well.” She complimented you as she helped you sit up. Jungkook came to your side and very gently led you off the platform.

“Good job. Looks like my tips worked huh?” Jungkook asked, to which you smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. He guided you to the side only for your friends to rush over to you.

“Sweetie! You’re okay! How are you?” Gahyeon asked as she hugged you, making you return her hug. You showed an ‘okay’ sign with your hand before Yunho ruffled your hair. “Of course you are, you’re a beast Y/N.” His comment made some of them laugh, including you. Just then, your eyes drifted to your left only to meet Yeonjun’s fiery eyes.

All you wanted to do was throw him in The Pit. The last thing you wanted was to see his competitive ass everyday from now on.

However, you weren’t going to kill him despite all the pain he’s caused you.

After letting you meet up with your friends, Jungkook brought you back to his penthouse to let you rest. He carefully laid you down on his bed, pulling his blanket up to your chest while you snuggled into his side with your head resting on his chest. Jungkook chuckled as he caressed your hair, tucking them behind your ear, making sure to let his fingers softly trace the side of your face as he did so.

“No matter what the results are, I’m never leaving your side. That, I can promise you.” Jungkook said softly as you tilted your head up to look at him. You wished you could speak. You wished you could verbally say this to him outloud. Unfortunately you couldn’t.

In the end, you opted for the saying ‘Actions speak louder than words’ and so, with that being said, you lifted your head up and used your left elbow to prop your body up on the mattress.

Jungkook watched you carefully as you slowly leaned in only to press your lips softly on his. Almost instantly, he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other allowed his fingers to tangle into your soft locks. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting your thumb trace the scar he had on his left cheekbone. You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled away for a breath.

His eyes fluttered open to find your cute ones staring back at him. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle as he gently massaged your scalp in a calming manner.

“If that is your way of telling me what I think it is, then I’ll be the one to confirm verbally that I feel the same way too…” Jungkook’s voice was smooth and sultry in your ears, it almost made you melt into a puddle. Almost.

So with one more kiss from him, your heart raced in your chest as he pulled away to let his lips hover over yours before he said the words you’ve been meaning to tell him.

“I love you Y/N.”

Prologue

6 months had passed, you ended up staying in Dauntless together with Gahyeon, Hyunjae and Yunho. Right after the final stage, you gave Jungkook the weapon Yeonjun used to attack you the night before the final stage. After investigating the weapon and finding evidence that confirms Yeonjun was indeed the attacker, he was immediately thrown out of Dauntless. Rendering him Factionless.

Yes, that jerk deserved it.

Yunho was given the role of a guard due to his unfortunate ranking but hey, at least he wasn’t Factionless.

Gahyeon was a trainer for Dauntless-born initiates while you and Hyunjae were trainers for faction transfers. Although, you only started becoming one after the 3rd month when you were starting to be able to talk again.

And how was your relationship with Jungkook, might I ask?

Well, just splendid.

Your relationship with him only grew stronger each day as he took care of you during the first few months when you still had difficulties to talk. He was always there for you when you needed someone to back you up in heated arguments.

Jungkook took you to visit your parents the day after the final stage. No doubt your parents got upset over what happened to their daughter, they were more than thankful that you were still alive and that Jungkook was there to keep you sane. As the months go by, Jungkook’s feelings for you bloomed.

Today was another day of training for you and your initiates where you managed to guide the new initiates along with Hyunjae’s help.

You were just standing off to the side, letting Hyunjae take over for the knife throwing session when you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrapping itself around your waist. You giggled as you turned your head to find Jungkook’s face just mere inches away from yours.

“Not here, love… We’re in the middle of training.” You whispered, earning a soft chuckle from him before he peppered your cheek with kisses.

“Can’t I just give my beautiful girlfriend some loving kisses before I go to my meeting?” Jungkook teased, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you being needy?” You laughed.

“Only when I miss you…”

“We literally saw each other an hour ago, Kook.”

“I know.” Jungkook grinned cutely at you only for you to push his face away gently while you laughed.

“Hmm, needy indeed.”

“Hey…” He pouted at you. Of course your heart couldn’t bear to see his sad pout so you turned to face him completely. Reaching up with both hands to hold his face, you pressed your lips on his before pulling away to see his silly smile on his face.

“I love you.” You whispered as you felt him hug you.

“I love you more.”

That was the last thing you heard as Changkyun’s voice beckons your boyfriend over from a few feet behind Jungkook. “Come on lovebird, we gotta go… See you later Y/N.” Changkyun chuckled as he wiggled his index finger towards Jungkook. Your boyfriend gives you one last kiss before he jogs over to his older friend.

Maybe joining Dauntless wasn’t as bad as you thought after all.

~~~

Previous

a/n: Thank you for reading this series! Do check out my other fics if you're interested to read more of my writings! ❤️

Main Masterlist

Taglist: @moonchild1 @danyxthirstae01 @helenazbmrskai @jenna-posts @pimentelssmile

[kleptosuperstar]

hiii so uhh i really don't think anyone will see this because...i literally have one follower but im kinda making this for myself because me and my cousin are going to the mall and a few stores around the city in a few days SPECIFICALLY to lift and I made a list of things that we both want PLUS some tips for these stores seeing as I DO lift from most of them a lot sooo..yeah

SPENCERS: a moderately easy store seeing as there are TONS of blind spots and LP isn't employed. To top it off, cameras are never monitored, however they are low-hanging and somewhat high quality. Usually only 2-5 employees but the store is almost always crowded so if you find a blind spot it's a free for all. They wont chase but might call mall security.

What we want:

h20 piercing cleaner x2

toy cleaner

jojoba oil

hemp oil

septum and nose jewelery (we will actually have to purchase this, seeing as if you steal the jewelery they hand to you they WILL know you stole no matter what. Plus the packaging is riddled with RFID tags)

HOT TOPIC: Not that many blind spots, but employees usually don't care and rarely count clothing articles, which may have a tag or two, so check for those. Cameras are never monitored and the stores usually have a large layout so just watch out for customers and employees, find a blind spot and throw a bunch of shit into your bag They don't chase! :D.

What we want:

distressed thigh highs

over the knee thigh highs with bow

black fishnet lace thigh highs

black and white stripe arm warmers

black fishnet fingerless gloves

black floral tights

CLAIRE'S: whew lawd. I really really want to be helpful on this one but Claire's is a laughably easy place to lift from. No cameras, usually only 1 or 2 employees and if one is giving a piercing it's a free-for-all. THEY HAVE MIRRORS SO AVOID THOSE. My favorite blind spot there is behind the register if there is no one there, and that's all I have to say there.

What I want: (she doesn't want anything from Claire's apparently🙄)

Headphones

A tiara

Nail polish

VICTORIA'S SECRET: first of all lol, i feel ZERO shame in lifting from them. Please note that they do have cameras, and their SAs are trained to look out for shoplifters, however most of them are just confused college girls lol. Panties are NOT tagged. What I like to do is take a medium sized empty makeup bag and put it in my purse, and once I arrive to VS i put the makeup bag in the tote, I also drop my phone into the tote. I go around the store, picking out panties that are my size and i drop them so they can fall directly into the makeup bag. I do this with as many as I can fit into the bag and I do this with small makeup items as well. Once I'm done, I reach into the bag as if I'm looking for my phone (which i dropped in earlier) and that's the moment when i zip up the zipper of the makeup bag and pull out my phone immediately after and pretend to check the time and say something like "Damn, I gotta go. I'm late." Or something like that. Put the makeup bag in your purse and play around on your phone as you exit the store. And that's really it :) I rarely lift bras from there anymore so I can't REALLY help you there.

What I want:

a bunch of panties and some lip gloss!

BARNE'S AND NOBLES: I've never lifted from this place but I know friends who have. I'll give you the tips they gave me. There are cameras, and they are being monitored, but there are PLENTY of blind spots seeing as it is a very large store. The kid's section has no cameras tho, so if you're like me and look younger than you are, this could be for your advantage. No one expects you to steal when you're vibing in the kid's section. Most books have RFID tags, and hardcover books sometime have books engraved in the cover, so watch out for those. Most manga, some magazines, and just overall 99% of the books are tagged. Get what you want, flip through them and look for RFID tags while pretending to "read". If an employee sees you sitting down "reading" they won't suspect you unless they actually see you ripping out the tags. The worst that could happen is that they could ask you to move out of the book aisle so other customers can come through, if that happens, simply find another blind spot. Slip them into your bags like they're yours as SOON as you know they're rid of RFID tags. They won't chase, but probably will try to get you back into the store and if that doesn't work they'll try to get a license plate number or give your description to the police, neither usually goes anywhere tbh.

What we want:

fire force volume 1

fire force volume 2

fire force volume 3

fire force volume 4

Akame Ga Kill

Soul eater

Black lagoon

Kakegurui vol. 1

The seven deadly sins volume 1

Spy x family 1

Spy x family 2

Spy x family 3

Black butler vol. 1

Black butler vol. 2

Black butler vol. 3

Black butler vol. 4

Wotakoi vol. 1

Wotakoi vol. 2

Gangsta

Dictionary of witchcraft

The anatomy of the occult

Charms, spells, and formula

Moon spells

Gothic beauty magazine number 19

Nocturnal witchcraft

Necronomicon

The good witch's daily spellbook

A big book of practical spells

Any book on astrology

Gothic grimoire

Shingeki no Kyonin

Ulta: The second store I've ever lifted from. This store is easy, but not laughably. I feel like this would be a starter for babylifters. This store has mild LP, so watch out for those and NEVER EVER EVER conceal in front of customers, you should never do this in general but especially NOT in an Ulta. Get to your blindspot and make sure to detag depending on what you plan on lifting. Those mfs at Ulta tag like crazy. Put everything in your bag and remember to NEVER get too greedy at this store. They have a STRICT, VERY VERY STRICT no chase policy.

What we want:

better than sex mascara

lipstick

eyeshadow

makeup brushes

black liquid and stick liner

pink liquid liner (if they have it)

bronzer

brown eyeliner

eyeliner pencil

maracuja oil

any colorful eyeshadow pallate lol

WALMART: My walmart is so easy it hurts. Maybe about 5 cameras throughout the whole store to my knowledge, so the whole thing is basically a blind spot. The makeup aisle is heavily monitored tho so whenever I'm over there I make an effort to never look up to those cameras. Grab whatever you want/need and AVOID EMPLOYEES!!! they're everywhere. As well as customers. They are the two most annoying problems I've ever had lifting from a Walmart. I've noticed that aisles where you get things such as building materials are the most empty with no cameras. People usually only go to walmart because the food is cheap, so there are a lot of families who are usually only at one side of the store. Its rare that people ever need materials like those so seek out aisles like that to use as a blind spot. Wal-Mart doesn't seem to tag that many things, but ALWAYS check no matter what store you're at. If you're lifting something on the expensive side, just check for that.

What I want:

kinder buenos x2

sugar free monster energy

paint

paintbrushes

black lace

blue eyeliner

blush

nail polish

socks

THE DOLLAR TREE:

Pretty easy store tbh. The cameras are fake, and if they aren't they're never being monitored. I don't know about ALL layouts but mine has SO many blindspots it's crazy. If you're just looking for a snack, some makeup, or maybe a meal ? (Yes, you can get a whole meal if you lift enough stuff) then the dollar tree would be your place of interest. There are almost no employees walking around the store. There are usually only 2, and they switch between working at the registers and cleaning out the front of the store or whatever. Honestly this store is so easy just stuff shit in your bag lol. Even if you get caught they won't chase or call the police. Their stock is WAYY too cheap for that. I go there to steal candy or makeup brushes which is usually not worth paying for anyways so this is a beginner store. Knock yourself out ;)

What I want:

literally anything i see there that i want😭

welllll if you actually made it this far, thank you so much! I hope this helped someone and I hope one day I can make a master list of stores myself instead of just picking selective ones but this was all i was able to do :( i really REALLY hope this helped someone lmao just remember

✨ if its chain, its free reign✨

[alexaplaysgames]

Have Mercy on Me

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC

Fandom: Fictif (Last Legacy)

Rating: M (swearing, mild sexual content)

Words: ~ 1500

Description: Felix and his barista are a bit less than careful when it comes to concealing their midnight make out sess.

Notes: So Sage suspects that Felix and MC are a thing, but he doesn’t know that they are. Or he didn’t prior to this fic. The last of my Felix writing spree! I’m moving on to some Asra next.

Tags: @margitartist @demon-paradise @themohawkhelmet @cactus-hoodie @aomiyeon @piningmaybeanartist @another-confused-gay

When I imagined travelling with the legendary Starsworn, sitting in the parlour of a run-down inn and getting wasted wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Sage grabs a bottle from the table at his feet and takes a hearty swig.

“Even this is failing to entertain me now,” he says, cracking his back as he stands, “I’m going to go pass out.”

“Will you kill me if I call it a cat nap?” I singsong.

Safe glares at me in reply, ears pinned flat against his head. “Do you want to find out?”

I opt to stay quiet as he turns towards the stairs that lead to our rented rooms.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night as well,” Anisa hums, her green eyes glittering in the firelight. “Goodnight, you two!”

Felix and I sit silently as the sound of creaking wood accompanying footsteps retreats up the stairs.

As soon as the parlour is silent, he turns to me, smirking.

“Ah, to be free of Sage’s incessant pestering.”

I too am rather glad to be alone with him. With all that’s gone on lately, I’ve barely had Felix to myself at all these last few days.

The cracking of the fire is soothing, the silence between us strangely comfortable. It’s rather odd, considering Felix isn’t one for quiet contemplation, and it’s very rare that any situation he’s involved in remains free of awkwardness.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as Felix glances down at our hands, still close together being that we have yet to seperate from our previously crowded position on the sofa.

Once again, I feel myself wishing that he would just ask for things when he wanted them, like he so obviously wants to hold my hand now. Am I doing something wrong? Is this some consequence of his relationship with Rime? I know almost nothing about that, I don’t really want to, but if that deer-man did anything to hurt Felix, I guarantee I’ll snap his antlers like Pixy Stix.

Then again, perhaps some of the hurting was consensual. He did have some choice comments about their sexual relationship that I’ve really been trying to forget. Yikes. I can’t imagine the Felix I know in a relationship anything like that.

He’s too precious... too soft. I feel like getting rough with him would break him, shattering his beauty to shards, like stained glass.

But I wouldn’t mind if he were a bit more forward with me.

“Do you want to hold my hand, Felix?”

He starts, then blushes as he meets my gaze. Felix nods, his expression turning resolute as he slowly reaches for my hand, then intertwines my fingers with his.

I reach to delicately tilt his chin up with the index finger of my free hand.

“I do like you, you know,” I tease, but the words still carry meaning. “You don’t have to be so hesitant.”

“O-okay. I know that, I do. It’s just... difficult,” he scoffs, a frustrated sound deep in his throat. His voice goes soft as he continues, “I haven’t- I haven’t done this since...”

“I know.” He doesn’t need to say Rime’s name for me to know who this is about.

I smile, sultry turning soft, then focus my attention back on the fireplace as Felix lays his head on my shoulder with a soft sigh. Progress. His hair tickles my chin, but I don’t really mind. He smells... nice. Like... well, he actually kind of smells like sage. Sage the plant, not the person. Felix would certainly take offence to the latter. I snicker under my breath just thinking of his reaction if I told him so.

I suddenly shiver as Felix turns his face into my neck, trying to stay still. He’s not a huge fan of casual physical contact, and I don’t want to scare him away. He’s kinda like a pet, a cat, in that any time he gets close I stay shock still in hopes that he won’t run off. He’s like a cat in many ways, actually. Grumpy, recluse, adorable. Another description he would despise, knowing his hatred for Stella. I purse my lips to keep from giggling. Man, if only everyone knew how hilarious I really am.

“You realize,” Felix hums, the vibrations creating goosebumps across my skin. “We are completely alone.”

My amusement fades in an instant, my features stretching into a seductive grin.

“Oh? And what, Felix, oh dignified and talented mage, are you suggesting?”

I can almost feel his face heat from where it’s pressed against the soft skin of my neck.

He sighs, then mumbles, “I beg you not to tease me so. We can’t all be as lascivious as Sage, my dear.”

“Felix,” I tease, despite his request, “are you asking for a kiss?”

He pulls away, face flushed red, biting his lip as he refuses to meet my gaze.

“No.” The answer is obviously yes, and although his pout is adorable, he sounds like a stubborn, petulant child.

I place my hands on both of his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Good. Because you don’t need to ask. If you want to kiss me Felix, go ahead.”

It’s a bold challenge. Never does Felix initiate such things, but I want him to. I want him to want to.

He blinks. Then, slowly, tentatively, he shifts closer to me, the sofa creaks beneath him, and I feel the cushions sink as he leans towards me. His breath fans across my face as he gets impossible closer, his eyelashes fluttering against my cheeks.

It’s in moments like these that it truly hits me: how incredibly intoxicating Felix is. I don’t think I could refuse him if I wanted to; my heart yearns to be swept up in the vortex of his stormy eyes, to drown in a sea as black as his fingernails or as red as his bitten lips.

I can just barely feel the brush of his lips against mine, leaving my breath stuttering in my throat. It’s nice- the closeness, the stillness. Intimate even, with our foreheads pressed together and our mouths just barely touching. I could stay like this with him forever.

Then our lips slide together in a familiar, passionate dance, slow and sensual and utterly delicious. I instinctively move my hands to tangle in his hair, pulling just the way I know he likes, while Felix surprises me by moving one hand to cup my face, the other to skim my thigh, and kissing me back hard, hard enough to make me feel like the breath that fills his lungs, and I struggle to refrain from smiling against the softness of his lips.

I pull away, trying not to notice his bereft, breathy little exhale, just long enough to quirk a brow before I place my hands on his chest and push him back into the sofa, chuckling at the noise of shock that he makes.

And while I love to have him near me, holding me, this is where I like Felix best. Pinned under me as I straddle his waist, wide, silvery eyes reflecting the dying firelight.

I lean over him, tantalizing, teasing, trace a path with my tongue from his collarbone to the shell of his ear, then finish by biting down on his earlobe, rolling the stud he wears in his ear with the tip of my tongue.

Felix gasps, hips involuntarily pressing upwards and against mine, a breathy whine building in his throat. I catch his wrists and pin them above his head, leaning back to admire the mess I’ve made of him.

“So pretty,” I murmur, twirling a strand of his hair with my free hand.

“You are quite,” his voice shakes with his ragged exhale, “resplendent yourself.”

I snort, hum, then lean forward to capture his mouth in a sinful, open-mouth kiss, grinding against him once more in a way that has us both panting into each other’s mouths. I’m not sure how long we stay tangled up like that, rocking together, never parting for longer than it takes to catch a breath.

His skin is surprisingly warm to the touch when my fingers flit under the fabric of his shirt, dipping over the soft give of his stomach, a gentle, exploratory touch I can feel mirrored by Felix’s hands on the bare skin of my arms.

I’m just about to suggest we take this somewhere more private when I’m interrupted by a choking noise. A sound not unlike that of a cat, yakking on a hairball.

Felix and I hastily spring apart, and my gaze is immediately drawn to a tall, white-haired figure standing at the base of the stairs.

“Holy fuck.” Sage whispers, his expression a mix of amusement, awe, and confusion. His eyes dart between the look of sheer mortification that paints my features and Felix’s disheveled appearance and half-open shirt.

Shit.

Felix flops back down, burying his burning red face in a pillow.

“Not now, Sage.”

Sage only smirks. “Interrupted something, did I? By all means, don’t stop on my accord. I’m all for watching, or joining. If you’re into that sorta thing.”

I can only manage to stare, slack-jawed. Is he really suggesting...?

“So,” Sage clears his throat, causing Felix to groan at the realization that he has not yet left. “You two really are-“

I nod.

“No,” he grimaces.

“Yes,” I deadpan.

“No,” he repeats, louder, frantic. “I cannot live in a world in which Felix has game. First Rime, now you? Are you sure you’re the one who got teleported to another dimension?”

“That’s not exactly what-“ Felix finally huffs as he raises his head, glaring.

“Whatever, man. This is some fucked up shit. Majorly fucked up, that’s what I say.” Sage crosses the room, retrieving a dagger from the nearby armchair and twirling it dangerously in his leather-clad grip (I assume this is the reason he came back into the parlour at all).

He makes to move up the stairs, but pauses, throwing me a grin over his shoulder, accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows.

“But if you ever wanna get a taste of the wild side...”

“Sage!” Felix exclaims, eyes flashing a dangerous green, but the former only snickers.

“Goodnight, horny children. Try to keep the noise level to a minimum, if ya know what I mean.”

I have to slap my hand over Felix’s mouth to stifle his angry retort.

This is going to be a long few days.