#and I feel even his *immediate* motives might have changed to something darker by the time of the second kidnapping attempt

[edennill]

To be honest, as one of those people, I simply... have the impression that it never actually occurred to Celegorm that Lúthien might not fall for him sooner or later. He has the vibe of someone who feels he's "God's gift to womankind", you know? Which doesn't mean she wouldn't have been in danger if the situation prolonged itself indeterminately, but I don't think that Celegorm planned anything at the time.

Genuinely do not understand those people who are like "but we don't know Celegorm intended to rape Lúthien!!!" What the actual fuck do you think he kidnapped her for... so he, Curufin and Celebrimbor would have a fourth for a bridge night???

[fatalism-and-villainy]

More thoughts about the dynamic I talked about here:

It’s telling that the way Abigail engages with Hannibal re: Nick Boyle’s death is very different from the way she engages with Will about it (and by extension, that the way Hannibal engages with Will about GJH’s death is very different from how he engages with Abigail about Nick Boyle’s death).

That is to say, Hannibal’s initial, outward response to Abigail killing Nick Boyle is primarily disapproval - foregrounding what she’s most trying to conceal about herself, and positioning himself as a moral authority who’s making a considerable sacrifice to protect her:

Hannibal: This isn’t self-defense, Abigail. You butchered him. Abigail: I didn’t. Hannibal: They will see what you did. And they will see you as an accessory to the crimes of your father. Abigail: I wasn’t. Hannibal: I can help you, if you ask me to. At great risk to my career and my life. You have a choice. You can tell them you were defending yourself when you gutted this man. Or we can hide the body. (1.3)

Later, he changes tack and allows that Abigail did do the right thing and that self-defense is an excusable motive:

Abigail: You’re glad I killed him. Hannibal: What would be the alternative? That he kill you? (1.3)

And:

Abigail: In the dream, I wonder how I could live with myself, knowing what I did. Hannibal: And when you’re awake? Abigail: When I’m awake, I know I can live with myself. And I know I’ll just get used to what I did. Does that make me a sociopath? Hannibal: No. It makes you a survivor. (1.4)

This change in approach is partly by design, I think - his more condemnatory initial approach impresses on Abigail the worst possible interpretation of her actions (and hints at the fact that he can see through the front she’s putting up), in order to get her to trust him, and then gradually he starts to show qualified approval and emphasize her agency to move behind her father’s influence. And his emphasis on self-defense in their conversation at the end of Potage serves as a way of deflecting Abigail’s sharp inference that he might be a serial killer. But he consistently only approves of Abigail committing murder in utilitarian terms, rather than emphasizing any satisfaction Abigail might have gotten from it.

And the person who does validate that for her is, of course, Will, when they compare notes on killing her father vs. killing Nick Boyle:

Abigail: I thought there was something wrong with me, because I didn’t feel ugly when I killed Nick Boyle. I felt good. That’s why it was so easy to lie about it. Will: Like you didn’t do anything wrong. Abigail: Feel like you’d done something wrong when you killed my dad? Will: I felt terrified. And then… I felt powerful. Abigail: It felt good. To get to end it, to stop it all. (1.12)

They’re both nodding so vigorously by the end of that exchange, just fully understanding in that moment how the other is feeling. And significantly, Hannibal doesn’t set himself up as someone with whom she can unload those feelings on, or find that kind of understanding with! Obviously he doesn’t want to go mask-off about being a serial killer immediately, but he doesn’t even drop any hints with about the appeal of murder; and meanwhile with Will, where he’s got all his “it’s beautiful, in its own way” and “killing must feel good to God” and “not flesh and blood but light and air and colour” lines. Aside from his initial intimation that she had darker motives, his approach with Abigail is mostly affirming her best qualities, suggesting she’s not like her father and that she had no choice but to kill Nick Boyle. And Will ends up being the one to affirm Abigail’s darker qualities.

And, well - my sense of why Hannibal takes this approach is that he was hoping for exactly that. He wanted Abigail to go to Will with those feelings, to be drawn to Will because he offered a potential source of a specific kind of validation and understanding that she wasn’t getting from Hannibal - and thus, for Abigail to help draw out Will’s murderous impulses in turn. Just as he used the prospect of protecting Abigail to push Will’s sense of ethics a little bit farther out. They were both the bait, for each other.

[yinjiyang]

evcryopeneye​:

There was a part of her that knew that her mother had tried to do the right thing. She understood why. Love was painful. Love could bring calamity…but love was also amazing. It was near impossible to live without it. The moment she realised that live without love was just existence, it wasn’t living, they weren’t the same. “Perhaps, but you can imagine the world without love? To walk through existence, not feeling connected to people, to look at those who raised you can not feel as deeply for them as your peers feel for their family? To never….really enjoy something, to look at the world and not feel the same sense of joy? Romance isn’t the only kind of love.”

To live without such extremes, was as if something had been cut off, as if she were deprived of a sense. Hell. She would liken it to her vision. She could see the world, but not the same as others. While she was much rather have lost her colour vision than to lose the ability to love again, it was in some way, a similar sensation. “Only experiencing half the world…is difficult. Creates problems. Being unable to understand why people behave the way they do. It burns in ways I can’t describe.”

Jinmi knocked back the glass of wine, and then sighed softly, shrugged her shoulders. “It isn’t easy,” heavens above only knew how many times she’d had her heart broken, “but the world is a much darker place when you can’t recognise it. It’s not just that you can’t feel it, it’s that it doesn’t exist. When you look at the world…it’s pretty confusing place without that reference.” So much so she’d bumbled her way through it, made mistakes, been taken advantage of, manipulated. It made you vulnerable. A kind of vulnerable she was never going to find herself in again.

“I suppose, a lot of people are never happy, they always think their life would be easier without something in it…when really, it would just be….different.”

       Romance isn't the only kind of love.        "Mmm hmmm..." he agreed with a soft hum of understanding.  Oh, he was very much aware of the many, many different faces of love, how a perspective and a heart changed upon feeling that love, upon giving it and receiving it.        But he could also imagine a world without it.  He had seen it; he understood, in time primordial, before love was real, how an infinite universe became even more once the emotion came into being.  How beautiful and how terrible all of existence was with the presence of love.  He casually refilled her cup with wine.        "Yet there are some who feel too much," he replied softly.  "Some who feel the pain of love lost, who no longer find joy or beauty and would rather experience a world without them than feel the emptiness of their loss."  With the delicate tone of Yin Jiyang's voice, one might think this 'priest' had personal experience on the matter as well.  "Not being distracted by emotions or blinded by love grants clarity.  There are some who find comfort in that darkness."         But what she described was akin to why he had wanted to experience life as a human.  Before taking this form, Yin did not understand; he found humans fascinating, but he could not understand them, their motivations which sometimes made no sense, actions and words that were illogical.  But the moment he took the vessel of a mortal, everything changed.  Almost immediately, he began to see and experience the world and life in ways he had never imagined.          He poured himself a fresh cup of tea, secretly enjoying the sensation of steam brushing against his fingers.  "You are very wise, Young Miss," he concluded with regard to her unique perspective.  Indeed, things would not be easier, just different.  "But what of you?  Are you happy?  Now that you feel love?"

[juniperleafdelivery]

Crossing the Line

* summary: Stanley just wants a break from his never ending prison. He certainly isn't expecting company

* content warning: none! just fluff here

* i've been writing a lot of stuff for the stanley parable lately, so why not share them here? this was my first time writing for stanley and the narrator, so please excuse me if they're out of character

It was just another run in The Stanley Parable. Employee number 427 didn’t remember what happened previously, nor did he really care. “Life” in the parable was simply a monotonous cycle.

But there was one thing that brought variety. That brought change.

“All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room-”

Ugh. While Stanley did enjoy the Narrator’s company, he found the off script comments much more interesting. He held his hands up towards the ceiling, motioning for the Narrator to stop.

“...simply missed a memo. Hmm? Stop? What for, Stanley?” He paused. “You aren’t getting bored, are you?” Stanley tilted his head. He thought he heard a hint of fear in the other’s voice.

“Fear!” it scoffed. “I am an omnipresent being, I don’t feel something as trivial as fear.”

Oh, really? Stanley knew for a fact that the Narrator was just as capable of fear as he was. Would he like some specific examples?

There was a short cough. “Anyways, Stanley, what could you possibly want me to stop the story for?”

A break. He wanted a break from the storyline. He heard the Narrator start to say something, probably an indignant complaint. Stanley continued in his thoughts before the other could interrupt.

He wasn’t bored of the story. He just believed…

Stanley paused, choosing his next words carefully.

It would be better if the story was experienced in small bits, instead of all at once.

The Narrator hummed, but didn’t sound entirely convinced.

That way, it won’t be overwhelming, and hearing it part by part might- will make the message sink in better.

If Stanley was being honest with what he projected to the Narrator, that part was a complete lie. The supposed message had flown over his head hundreds of runs ago. He just wanted something different. Was it a selfish motive? Maybe. But in the parable… did selfishness even exist?

“Yes… perhaps you have a point.”

Stanley snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well, Stanley, I suppose you may have your little break. While you run around doing… whatever, I will be taking a break of my own. Just call me when-”

Stanley frowned, shooting a pointed stare upwards.

“Er, you know what I mean. Just think loud enough, and I’ll hear you.”

Think loud enough? How does someone think loudly? But Stanley didn’t get an answer. The Narrator was gone for now.

He shrugged. Now was the time to enjoy his newfound freedom for as long as he could.

Stanley began wandering through the office, relishing the time alone. No British accent dictating his every move or commenting on every thought.

He picked up a pen, sudden realization dawning on him. He could vandalize this place without any consequences! At least without any immediate ones.

In a few quick strokes, Stanley doodled a self portrait of himself on the wall. It was a little messy and unrecognizable, but it was the thought that mattered. He continued forward, leaving inky markings as he went. Sure, they would be gone with the next reset, but the feeling of control that came from the action was impossible to resist.

He then paused in front of the set of two open doors. Snaking out of the right door was a thin, yellow rectangle. The Adventure Line™? No, it seemed to be a shade darker. Stanley approached it curiously, but his foot caught on the carpet. He stumbled forward, accidentally stepping onto the line as he went.

A loud, high pitched shriek sounded, causing Stanley to press himself against the wall. There was a whip-like crack as the line rapidly retreated, shrinking into a short, slightly bent arrow.

Stanley felt a twinge of guilt upon seeing the dirty marks his feet had left. His guilt was quickly overrun by confusion, however. Did… did that scream come from the arrow? Was it sentient??

He bent down, gingerly picking it up in his hands. It felt very cold, like he was dipping his hands into a bucket of paint. The arrow curled into a tight coil in Stanley’s hands. Ok, that was kind of cute. For a line. He continued down the hall, deciding to go to the employee lounge.

This run was certainly different.

As soon as Stanley sat down on a couch, the tip of the arrow lifted. It turned around, almost dazed, before pointing at Stanley. He looked down at it, giving a reassuring smile.

He still felt guilty for stepping on the arrow, but wasn’t entirely sure how to apologize. The yellow coil in his hands froze, then leaped into the air.

It lengthened and grew as it traveled, before landing in a tangled heap on the couch. The triangular tip lifted, pointing, almost accusingly, at Stanley.

“You- Stanley-” The Narrator’s voice seemed torn between anger and embarrassment. Stanley blinked dumbly, struggling to process that this arrow was his- the Narrator.

This was… his physical form? The arrow huffed. “Oh no, this is an evil spirit mimicking my voice- of course this is my physical form, Stanley!! But that is not the point! Is your spacial awareness so lacking-”

Stanley had stopped listening, fascinated by his companion’s new appearance. Its movements reminded him of an angry snake, whipping back and forth as it ranted. He reached two fingers out and placed them on the tip (head? face?? Stanley had no clue) of the arrow.

It froze, but didn’t move away from his touch. “Stanley. What are you doing.”

Oh, calm down. He was just trying something new. With his two fingers, Stanley lightly rubbed the Narrator’s head.

A tremor shook the length of the arrow, barely visible. Stanley hesitated, pulling his hand away. Did he… like that?

For once, it did not respond. Slowly untangling itself, the arrow slid over to Stanley. It looped around the other’s waist, coming to rest its head on Stanley’s shoulder. It was an interesting position, but surprisingly comfortable. Stanley smiled, gently petting the golden arrow. A soft, quiet rumbling emitted from it, similar to a purr.

Sitting in the employee lounge, Stanley found this was much better than pushing buttons, both literally and metaphorically.

And Stanley was happy.

[cobaincreates]

touch pt. 3

warnings: swearing, smut, oral (female receiving), 18+

count: 4k+

final part of touch! thank you so much for reading!

— — —

“just get the silver one with the straps. i think the purple is a bit too close on the magenta side.”

“i can wear my heels with this one.” sarah agreed, turning her hips. “do you still have those silver earrings from work? the long, dangly ones?”

“i think so, yeah. i’ll bring them over later.” you nodded at your phone screen, watching sarah fiddle with the dress she had on. the lighting from the fitting room made the dress look darker than it really was in the picture she originally sent you.

“what’s kie trying on?” you asked just as a notification popped up at the top of your screen.

rafe:

meet me on dock @ noon?

your stomach twisted as a smile immediately graced your lips. you quickly swiped out of the facetime session, hoping sarah didn’t see, as you went to reply.

“i think she’s looking for a pair of jeans she saw the last time we came. the ones with the stitched back pockets.” sarah said.

okay :), you sent.

you were met with the ceiling when you went back to facetime, staring at a small orb reflecting from the light.

“hopefully she finds them,” you said and checked the time again as you started to think about changing out of the pajamas you were still in.

you had the day off today, which so far had amounted to you skipping out on a shopping trip with sarah and kiara and settling for being lazy around an empty house. it wasn’t so bad, but you were ready to get a move on, rafe’s text motivating you.

“john b’s calling me. i’ll talk to you later?” sarah’s face suddenly appeared on the screen as she picked her phone up, her shoulders now bare. you held a peace sign above your messy bed-ridden hair and tossed your phone aside when you hung up.

it was impossible not to be smiley and giddy as you scoured your dresser for clothes to wear. who could blame you when you’d spent nearly every night this week staying up late to text back and forth with rafe. it felt like you were dreaming, like you were living in an alternate universe where you actually got something you wanted. a month ago, you never would’ve guessed that you’d be getting ready to meet up with rafe, much less be fooling around with him.

it was difficult to describe how you felt about it. obviously, you were happy and bubbling with excitement, so much so that you thought you were going to throw up anytime you reminisced on the time spent with him. you tried not to dwell on the fact that you were technically sneaking around with him, but it had only been a few times so did it really constitute as such? you knew you had to tell sarah; the only thing stopping you being that you just weren’t sure when a good time would be.

when you had gotten home the other day from the marsh, you quickly closed yourself in your room. there was no reason to hide the grin within the privacy of your own space, so you let it stay there, your cheeks hurting so much by the time you went to sleep. you couldn’t believe you’d finally kissed rafe and you even caught yourself pressing your lips together, trying to trap the sensation of it there, and closing your eyes. 

and rafe finally getting a taste of you? fuck, it was perfect.

back in your room, you quickly finished getting ready. as you sprayed some perfume just for the hell of it, you thought about where you were going if he wanted to meet on his dock. you tried to picture him waiting for you. would he smile when you were too far away to see it? would his skin tingle with vibrant energy, just waiting to touch you? you swore you felt that same sensation every time you thought of him.

by the time you pulled up to tannyhill and grew closer to the house, you spotted him patiently waiting on the dock. his dad’s boat was there, rocking ever so slightly in the water. rafe looked up at the sound of your car and you parked it beside his truck, a fast-approaching heat spreading up your neck at his open windows. it was like they were encouraging you to have the thoughts of being in the back seat.

you only brought your keys with you as you got out, your phone sitting in the cup holder along with a few receipts you’d been meaning to throw out. rafe watched you as you walked over the grass and toward the wooden planks of the dock. he squinted an eye shut to watch you and you wanted to tell him that that was what the hat on his head was for, if only he turned it around. instead, you smiled at your feet.

“where is everyone?” you said over the few yards you hadn’t closed yet between you. your feet brushed over the planks, going down the small slope to where rafe was standing at the back of the boat.

“ward is out of town,” rafe said, lifting his chin a bit. “rose is doing whatever rose does with her girlfriends, wheezie is on the computer, but she’s leaving soon.” you came to a stop a couple steps away from him, fiddling with the keys in your hand. “and sarah is with kie today, which i’m sure you already knew,” he smiled at the end, like he was satisfied to have you all to himself.

“mmm,” you hummed humorously. “are you taking me out?” you asked, jutting your chin to the yacht.

rafe looked over, giving you time to run your eyes quickly down his chest and lower half. you adored the blue button up he had on, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. wasn’t he hot?

“we can’t exactly go anywhere since ward would kill me,” he looked back at you, smirking, “but i figured we could hang out here.”

“hang out?” you smiled, biting the inside of your lip slightly and tilting your head.

he nodded, his hand slipping from his pocket and extending out to you. you stared back at him as a familiar feeling pooled in your lower abdomen, one you’d felt many times around him. you never wanted it to go away, and maybe it was ridiculous to think in such a way, but you never wanted to feel it for anyone else.

pushing your keys into one hand, you reached out for his and held on. he held it firmly as he turned and went to the back platform to step onto. you followed all the way inside, feeling the cooler atmosphere in the shade. it didn’t look any different than the last time you’d been on it, just tidied up a bit more.

you set down your keys on the dining table and turned your back to lean against it. rafe was already watching you curiously.

“are you going to come over here?” you weren’t sure where it came from, but you couldn’t help yourself from asking.

he broke out into a smile and stepped closer until his feet were in front of yours. you laughed, almost nervously, and let your eyes trail up his form. stopping at his torso, you put your hand out to touch one of the buttons on his shirt. he touched your waist, causing you to breathe in shakily. he shuffled closer, your hand now pressed against his stomach and spreading a warmth up your arm. you could see his forearms flex for just a split second.

“i’ve been having a lot of fun with you, you know.” he said.

“have you?” you smiled.

you let your eyes resume their trail up his chest, gliding over the hollow of his neck, skimming his jaw. finally, your eyes connected with his.

“yeah, i have.”

“sneaking or fooling around?” you asked, moving your arms to circle around his neck. your chest pressed to his, nearly having you breathe deeper as your shirt exposed a sliver of your stomach. rafe could feel it, his palms warm over your skin.

“mostly the fooling around part.” he said proudly, holding back a smile as if it would scare you.

you had to admit that’s what you’d been enjoying too. fuck, there had been nothing more thrilling than having rafe cameron between your legs, in his truck, with no one around. it wasn’t like you to sneak around, and while it had been fun, you knew sarah needed to know.

you hummed, looking up at his hat and teasingly taking it off to place upon your own head. he brushed his newly disheveled hair then smiled down at you, his head slightly tilting. you wondered if you looked as good as he did in the hat.

“do you think sarah would kill me if she knew?” you asked seriously, not wanting to put a damper on the mood, but it had been something on your mind lately.

“no, she’d probably kill me.” he stated.

you laughed, glancing out the door to the bow of the boat, knowing he had to be right. “i have to tell her,” you sighed, imagining it for a moment. you didn’t want her to be upset.

but you had known sarah for so long that you knew in your heart she wouldn’t be mad at you. she couldn’t. if anything, she might be a little weirded out, but she would embrace it, just like you embraced john b. it had been so weird, but so right for them to get together. maybe she’d feel the exact same way about you and rafe. then again, you and rafe weren’t dating, were you?

“i’m having fun with you too,” you said, quieter this time as if another person might’ve been on the boat with you.

you looked back up at him, searching his eyes. you weren’t sure why you suddenly felt so scared, so anxious for saying that aloud. he had already admitted the same thing, so what was there to be afraid of?

a soft gasp fell from your lips as rafe pulled you closer, his hand slipping over your bottom. his eyes seemed to darken, although you couldn’t exactly tell if it was from his face moving closer. either way, it added to the pooling in your abdomen.

“sucking my dick or me eating you out?” he asked, his voice laced with lust.

you couldn’t help the blush sparking in your cheeks, heating your skin up faster than if you were to sit in front of a fire. you opened your mouth to answer him, instead watching as he disappeared and moved to your jaw. his mouth was warm and slick over your skin. you slipped your eyes closed and tightened your hold around his shoulders. god, you didn’t want him to stop.

“both,” you remembered to say, answering his question.

rafe squeezed at your ass, simultaneously moving your hips closer. you let out a breath when you brushed against him. he moved from your jaw then and found your lips.

“i thought we were just hanging out?” you teased, continuing to kiss him back in between the words. he was insatiable at the moment, never once letting you get too far away.

“we can if that’s what you want.” his breath was hot and growing heavy by the second. you smiled at the double meaning of his reply and pulled away slightly to shake your head. fuck no, you didn’t want to just hang out.

dropping your hands to the table behind you, you lifted yourself up and sat before tugging him in between your legs. you locked him in place with your thighs and reached up to connect your lips again. he obliged, running his tongue along your bottom lip in question. you happily allowed him access, making a small noise as you felt the pooling seep to your undies now.

his hands settled on your thighs for a little, gliding against your skin and sending shivers in each direction. you pushed your chest against his, wanting nothing more than to touch him, to feel him, to have his hands everywhere on your body. you nearly groaned in agony just wanting to ask him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. but it wasn’t long before he brought a hand up your side and rested over your breast. it was so warm and cupped you so nicely that you contemplated just letting it stay there, but your arousal told you differently.

pulling away, you managed to take your shirt off fast enough that you should’ve won the world record. you knocked rafe’s hat off while doing so, hearing it fall to the table behind you.

“fuck,” rafe swooned over your exposed chest.

he slipped an arm around your lower back, pulling you closer to the edge of the table and simultaneously against his bulge. you moaned and arched into his hand on your breast again, his grip gently kneading over your bra. what would his lips feel like there? you almost wish you could’ve found out the other day in the truck, but this…this was better.

feeling rather curious, or just very horny, you decided to rub your hips into rafe’s, feeling how hard he was. you felt the muscles in his back turn to steel, the noise against your lips contradicting it. his hand dropped from your breast to join his other at your lower back and you reveled in the way he gripped you tighter against his own body.

“fuck, i want you rafe, please.” you said, feeling the throbbing in your lips from kissing so much. you felt it just as much behind your shorts, your undies were practically drenched. you were so wet and you didn’t want to wait anymore for him to know it.

“i-i want you too,” he panted, loosening his grip.

he was very reluctant to pull away, to lose touch of you, but he was quick and excited as he pulled his shirt off, ripping some of the buttons. it made you laugh, your chest heaving for breath as you watched. he reached for your shorts next, moving fast and taking them off with your underwear at the same time. you didn’t mind, drawing your lip between your teeth, lifting your hips as you watched him do so. he pushed his bottoms off, fishing in his pocket for a condom he cleverly packed.

you drank in the sight of him, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his arousal and the dark curls surrounding him. for a second it felt like you shouldn’t be looking, that this was too private and not meant for your eyes, but once you looked up at his face and took in the way he was doing the same exact thing to you, you melted.

“you’re fucking pretty, you know that?” he said as he came back in between your legs, pushing your hair out of your eyes, and giving you a firm kiss.

“seems like you tell me a lot.” you answered and reached out to touch him gently. he sucked in a breath as your hand wrapped around him, your fingers registering that lovely vein again.

you could probably stare at your hand all day and revel in that vein, but instead you lifted your head and attached your lips to rafe’s neck. his hands went behind you so he could open the packet and it probably would’ve taken him a shorter amount of time if you weren’t sucking a mark into his skin and slowly rubbing him. he moaned lowly before getting the packet open successfully. you spent a few more seconds on his neck, then licked over the spot and pulled away.

rafe’s hand came over your wrist. he squeezed lightly then pulled your hand to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to your palm. he held your hand for a moment while he leaned in to press a kiss to your mouth. “can i taste you first?”

“o-okay,” you nodded quickly. “yeah.”

you practically reeled as he crouched down to his knees in front of you and brought a leg over his shoulder. you moved to the very edge of the table, having a slight thought of falling completely off, but you had a feeling rafe would catch you or you’d both laugh it off.

those thoughts completely disappeared as rafe put his mouth on you. you pulled a lip between your teeth, watching him as he did.

“fuck, you’re so wet for me.” he noted and gripped your thighs before licking a long stripe up your folds.

one of his hands slipped from your leg and you wondered what he was doing for a second, before you saw the muscles flexing in his shoulder. that got you even hotter, knowing that he was touching himself while having his mouth on you. you nearly couldn’t think straight as he licked you again. he dipped into your entrance and you swallowed a whimper when he decided to leave you like that.

you watched him stand back up and lick his lips as he rolled the condom on, your stomach flipping and rolling in anticipation. you swallowed thickly and looked up at rafe when he was ready, his hand gentle as it appeared on your hip.

“are you ready?” he asked in a deep breath. “if you want to stop, just tell me, okay?”

“okay,” you nodded with a small smile.

you spread your legs wider and looked down at the same time as rafe so you could watch him. you breathed slowly to relax, watching as he guided himself to your entrance and slowly moved inside of you. your mouth fell open as a result, your arms nearly giving out. he opened you up the more he slid in, his palm on your thigh pressing more and more until he was completely inside.

“s-shit,” you panted and let your head fall back for a moment.

you breathed, closed your eyes. you tried to remember everything. you wanted to remember everything about this moment, about what it was like to have rafe inside of you. christ, you’d been in this same spot a week ago, daydreaming about his damn arms and veins and whole entire being. you’d lusted after him, tasted him, had him taste you, and now here you were. how the fuck did you get here?

you took a deep breath and leaned your head up. rafe’s mouth was open, his grip now like a vice on your thigh.

“fuck, you feel so good,” rafe said. “just like i imagined.”

you nearly whined at that and pressed your thighs into his hips to hold him in place. you licked your lips and pulled his mouth to yours, inviting him to move finally. he pulled his hips back slowly, holding onto you before moving back it. he did it a couple times, trying to get you used to him. fuck, he felt amazing.

rafe set a pace, his hand making a home on your lower back while his other held your leg up behind your knee. you couldn’t get enough of his praises each time he pulled away from you.

“god, you’re perfect,” he moaned, slipping his tongue into your mouth. “you fit so nicely around me, baby.”

you also couldn’t get enough of that damn pet name. it sounded even better falling from his lips in this exact moment.

“you’re taking my cock so well.”

with that praise you couldn’t help the way you fluttered around him, squeezing him tightly and causing both of you to moan. he almost lost his rhythm for a moment but got it back as he kissed the corner of your lips down to your jaw. you kept your eyes closed, you found it easier so you could focus on just feeling him.

he pressed kisses down your neck, stopping at a few places to nip. it tickled you and aroused you at the same time, if not more. a minute later, he found his way to your breast, your back arching again to push into his mouth. his tongue appeared, flicking over your nipple.

“rafe,” you moaned louder than before and tightened your legs around him as you felt that coil wind up. “go f-faster.”

he groaned against you, the vibrations traveling all the way down to your core. he picked up the pace and groped you now, giving your breast a squeeze while his tongue flicked again. his teeth skimmed over it before he bit down gently, making your hand fly to his hair to keep his head where it was.

his thumb appeared on your clit and you had a feeling that he was about to completely ruin you. his mouth popped off of you and he leaned in for a kiss, his lips wet and swollen. wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you cried out as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip and picked up the pace, your skin starting to smack. you felt yourself squeeze around him as his tongue played with yours and it was almost too much that you had to pull away from the sensation.

“holy— f-fuck. rafe, i'm s-so close.”

“you gonna come for me?” his breath blew across your face, overly warm and heavy. “come for me. i want to feel you come on my cock, baby.”

his thumb timed up with his hips now, making your eyes prick with tears as you squeezed them shut tightly. you gripped rafe’s shoulder, trying to hold onto something as you felt it coming.

“that’s it, come on. i got you.” he coaxed you through it so gently that it made you want to sob.

instead, you cried out as you reached your climax, feeling yourself pulse and squeeze around rafe as you came over him. your whole body twitched and tensed as rafe kept circling your clit, helping you through it. you moaned lowly from your chest, your head falling backward and your eyes relaxing. you had no idea rafe was so close behind until his forehead fell to yours and his thrusts slowed. he pulled out and thrusted hard, doing that a few times until he came undone too. you felt him pulse inside of you, emptying into the condom in spurts. you wished you could taste it again.

you drew your face into his neck, still gripping his shoulder. your palm was sweating against the table behind you and you wondered how you lasted so long holding yourself up the whole time. your heartbeat gushed less in your ears as the minutes went by and your body relaxed against rafe’s. you still felt so full, wanting to keep him there longer.

pressing a kiss to that hollow between your neck and shoulder, rafe rubbed your back soothingly. “you did so good, baby.”

you hummed into his skin then pulled away to brush his hair and kiss him softly. “thank you,” you said quietly, not exactly for the compliment.

you made a noise close to a whine when rafe moved out of you. you knew he had too, watching as he pulled the condom off and tied it closed. he went to the trash bin in the kitchen to toss it while you reluctantly moved off the table. you slid, looking back to see a small mess you made with rafe on the surface.

just when you were about to ask rafe for something to clean it up with, he came back with a rag already in his hand. he held it out to you and you smiled, knowing he got it for you. you cleaned between your legs than folded the rag a couple times before wiping the table clean.

rafe’s hand came to your sides, caressing softly over your skin. you smiled at his chest, touching his arms and warming up at the thought of what you two had just done. he pulled you closer just to hold you, his hands roaming to your back. it was comforting to have the silence to touch each other, to just be for a few quiet moments.

“as much as i would love to just stand here with you, i'm a little paranoid that someone can easily see in here.” you said after a while, looking right at the open door to the back deck of the boat.

“maybe you should’ve thought about that before we fucked on the table.” rafe said and you could hear the stupid grin on his face.

you nudged him away jokingly as you laughed, but he switched to a serious look when he tugged you back by the hips. you swallowed as you felt him against your thigh, nearly ready to go again. you looked up at rafe, biting your lips together to keep the grin at bay.

“do you want to go inside?” he smiled softly, glancing down at your lips.

“yes,” you nodded.

you pulled away to pull your clothes on. rafe teased you with your undies, holding them out for you to take, then snatching them out of reach. you jabbed him in the side until he gave them to you, a teasing grin on his face.

your shirt settled around you and you looked at rafe just as he caught your wrist and tugged you closer. his lips connected with your cheek and he hugged you against him, warm and solid. it was familiar, something you didn’t think you’d be able to say about him. you looped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him back.

“what?” you asked when you pulled away, finding another dumb smile on his face.

“think we could do this again sometime?” he searched your eyes, glancing down at your lips.

you laughed and rolled your eyes, knowing that’s exactly what you were about to do once you got inside the house. why would he ask such a silly thing?

“of course,” you said anyways before pushing him away to get your keys.

you headed inside with him, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you wondered how you looked, walking into tannyhill with him. you knew by the smile on your face that you were happy, and you guessed that he was too by the way he was holding you against him.

“wheezie?” rafe shouted into the house as he closed the door behind you two, his hand clasped tightly around yours.

silence followed his voice as you looked around the entryway, trying your best to hear for wheezie’s movements, or anybody’s voice. coast clear, you wanted to say but rafe beat you to it.

“fuck yes,” he sighed happily and pulled you by the hips to him. you laughed against his lips, kissing him back as you kicked your shoes off.

the next few seconds were filled with stumbling up the stairs like two drunks, pausing every so often just so rafe could kiss you, rafe making grabby hands at you and hardly letting you go. it’s a wonder how you even made it up the stairs. you giggled at him once you got into his room, him quick to toss his shirt to the floor, and closed the door.

—

“hello?”

your head snapped to rafe beside you, who was still working on catching his breath. sarah was home and you immediately panicked as you sat up.

“anybody home?” she called again, sounding so sweet like she was.

“up here!” rafe shouted, bare ass as can be and making your jaw go slack.

you smacked his thigh, the sound cracking sickeningly, before you scrambled off the bed to pull your clothes on.

“stop hitting me,” he laughed and lifted himself up to watch you stumble putting your shorts on.

“fuck off!” you whispered as if you had a chance at avoiding the impending situation. you pulled your shirt on roughly, completely forgetting a bra as you walked out of rafe’s room.

you managed to close his door completely and meet sarah at the top of the stairs. she looked up at you, surprised, carrying a few shopping bags.

“hey?” she greeted. “i could’ve sworn i heard my brother instead.”

oh beautiful, sweet, smart sarah. was there any way out of this? 

“i need to tell you something.” you said quickly and bit your lip anxiously.

sarah lifted an eyebrow at you, searching your face. you took an unsteady deep breath in. she won’t be mad, she won’t be mad, she won’t be mad. there was no way you could postpone this. this had to be done now otherwise you’d never forgive yourself. it’s so simple! you just have to say the words, just admit it. sarah, listen, i'm sl—

“you forgot this.” rafe’s voice came from behind you, making your stomach drop and sarah’s eyes completely divert over your shoulder.

turning slowly, you were absolutely mortified to see him holding your bra so comfortably. and he looked so proud too. god, you were going to kill him. that’s it, you were going to kill him. well, it had been nice while it lasted.

“oh my god,” you and sarah said at the same time.

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[knivesareout]

steve murphy nsfw alphabet

because steve murphy fucks and @emmikmil​ and i will not stand for that slander any longer!! anyway, this is a collab with em and i and we love steve and just boyd as a whole. 

2.5k words of filth about our favorite hillbilly DEA agent! enjoy xx

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It doesn’t matter if it was soft and slow or hard and rough, Steve is always on top of the aftercare. After taking a few minutes to catch your breath he’s there with a warm rag to clean you up. He’ll make sure you have water and will tuck you into bed before crawling in after with cuddles, kisses and plenty of praise. His first priority is taking care of you and making sure you’re okay.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Steve favors his hands and what he can do with them. How well he can manipulate your body with just a single flex of his wrist. The long digits of his fingers always reach places you can never seem to reach and how the veins on the top of his hand are more prominent when he’s pulling your hips against his or tightening around your throat when he fucks you from behind. 

As for his favorite body part on you, well. Steve’s a boob guy. And a thigh guy. And really, just anything soft. He’s constantly staring at any piece of exposed skin when you’re out in public, licking his lips in anticipation for more. He loves nuzzling into your belly after eating you out, rubbing the scruff of his facial hair on the soft skin. Your pussy is also a favorite of his- the warmth, the sensitivity of just a whisper of a touch making you instantly wet and leaving evidence across his mouth.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Steve definitely has preferences where he cums. Always safety first: with a condom in a newer relationship. If well established he loves to cum inside of you and watch it leak out after, before licking it all back up. He won’t not deny his other favorite is seeing your face dripping with him. Ruining your pretty face with his release, marking you as his. He loves scooping the cum off your face and feeding it to you, watching you suckle his fingers, cleaning them. Any opportunity for either of you to eat his cum he’ll take.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves the thrill of public sex. The thought of someone seeing him fingering you under the table, your panties pushed to the side. It’s lucky most places are louder otherwise the table over would hear the wet noises coming from between your thighs. He loves pushing you up against a wall in a semi-secluded place in the hopes someone might see you desperately riding his thigh because he left you high and dry during dinner. You never know what to expect when he calls you at work with the amount of times he’s left you breathless with his words, trying to get you worked up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Steve definitely has experience, the most being in college. As he’s gotten older he definitely doesn’t sleep around as much. He’s very much a relationship man, enjoying the learning process of what you like, what makes you tick, etc. He has skill and once he learns the ins and outs of your body? He can play you like a well tuned instrument.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where Steve can look at you when you cum is his favorite. He loves seeing you falling apart for him and seeing what he does to you is his biggest turn on. The desperate look on your eyes as you silently beg him for more is something he always wants to see. Accessibility is also a factor- being able to kiss and nip along your body, bury his face into your neck and mark you. He does love it when you ride him and take what you need though, his hands on your ass to help you move along his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really does depend on the moment. After a long day spent teasing each other, there’s no room for giggles. He’s focused and serious on pounding you into oblivion. Then there are the lazy weekend mornings where it’s spent rolling around in bed teasing, giggly and sweet. He can do both very easily and doesn’t really prefer one over the other.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Steve’s decently groomed but he doesn’t have much body hair to begin with. He keeps things trimmed and neat, the thick and wiry hair just a darker shade of blonde. Not to mention he loves the feeling of a little tug on the hair there when you slide your hand down his pants before you grab his cock; not to mention seeing your nose buried in the hairs when you deep throat him is always a sight he loves to see.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It doesn’t matter what kind of sex you two are having or how long the session lasts, his hands and lips rarely leave your body. Touch is Steve’s love language. He is very attentive and romantic, whispering his love and praises. If he has time to prep before he would absolutely light candles to set the mood.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

While he prefers release with you, he doesn’t mind taking things into his own hands when you’re busy. Steve’ll get lost in his own head at times with what new thing he wants to try with you and he’ll find himself hard. He likes to take his time when he’s jacking off, slow and tight strokes to emulate the feeling of your pussy before he starts to get desperate for his release. A sharp tug on his balls and he’s done for, white streaks on his chest and he pictures you cleaning it up, having to groan as his cock twitches with interest. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Steve has a fair few and highlighting some are:

Edging - Steve gets great enjoyment in seeing you writhe and pant as you get closer to coming and even more enjoyment in hearing your whines and breathless curses as he stops you just moments away from bliss. Edging you while he’s eating out is probably his favorite, hearing your moans with your thighs wrapped around his head and the solid grip in his hair. If you have the time he could spend hours between your legs, until you’re a blubbering mess wanting nothing more than to cum.

Breeding - This is the one kink he’s never told to another partner. He keeps this one under wraps, not even telling you until you both have the talk of starting a family and trying. When revealed, it’s not really a surprise to you. He just loves the thought of breeding you and seeing your belly grow with his baby. There would be nothing sexier to him than you pregnant, round with the clear evidence that he’s the cause.

Bondage - Having you at his mercy is a high for Steve. He’s done research into the best restraints to keep you comfortable, making sure they’re never too tight and always showing you a way to get out. Tying you to the bed and getting his mouth on you is a personal favorite, marking you and making you cum with your hands tied.

Voyeurism - Steve cannot get enough of watching you. Watching what gets you off, what parts of your body are more sensitive. It was how he first learned what got you off, watching you masturbate for him. Just watching you in general though makes his thoughts go off into a space where he’s thinking filthy things almost immediately. The most innocent things you do set him off, like rubbing your neck when you’re tired or the soft sigh you let out after a long day.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any place Steve can have you is a good place. Public or not, if he wants you then and there it’s happening. Up against the cabinets in the kitchen, bent over your desk at work during your lunch break, the seedy bathroom at the bar him and Javier frequent after a long day- it doesn’t matter to him. He does prefer a bed so he can lay you out and take his time, making you quiver and cry for him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn’t take much to turn Steve on but, hearing the noises you make when he kisses your neck or fondles your breasts. Every whimper, gasp and soft whisper of his name gets him harder than anything. Steve also loves a challenge- loves when you challenge his authority, teasing him and pushing his buttons to get a reaction. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that puts you or him at risk or in danger. Steve is all about making sure you’re comfortable and anything that even presses a boundary you don’t seem into, he’s instantly changing gears. With how much violence he sees in his day-to-day life, that’s a hard limit for him- seeing you hurt. He doesn’t want it turned back on him either, it’s an easy trigger.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Steve will never turn down a blow job from you but, he thrives between your thighs. He loves to eat you out and he has the skill to make you shiver with every stroke of his tongue and fingers. He won’t stop until his head is pinned in place by your thighs with your hands in his hair tugging him off you when it becomes too much.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

After a long day at work dealing with Javi and the ambassador and literally every other frustrating person he has to work with, Steve loves a good fast and rough fuck. It helps release the stored tension he keeps in his body. Weekends are when Steve can take his time with you. A long and slow Sunday morning fuck is his favorite, drawing it out until you’re shaking with your 3rd orgasm.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are a necessity during the week. Hurried touches in the shower before work and fucking you into the mattress before bed. It's definitely not his preferred way to fuck you but with a busy schedule he will take you however he can.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Steve doesn’t mind a little bit of risk, especially for someone with an exhibitionist kink. He loves the thrill, gets off on it and it drives him crazy at the thought of someone seeing what he does to you. He loves to experiment- testing your body and what it can take and how it gets you going. Steve is always the one to bring up something new into the bedroom and you’re on board fully, trusting him implicitly with your pleasure.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is something Steve prides himself on. Especially since his focus is always on you- how you’re feeling, making sure you’re getting your pleasure, he’s not worried about his own until he’s made you cum at least twice, if not more. There have been times when he’s let you take the reins and you’ve had him cumming so often he was orgasming dry but it’s not an often occurrence. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

What toys doesn’t Steve own is a better question. Well, you and him. You’d come with a few of your own toys: a trusty wand, a plug, a dildo- all things he loved using on you and watching you use. After some time you add small things: padded handcuffs, a silk mask, soft cotton restraints. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It may be hard to believe but under the southern gentleman facade, Steve is the absolute biggest tease. The light tease in public and normal conversation is nothing compared to how he is in the bedroom. It can be teasing touches with his lips and hands or whispered taunts in your ear. He knows the teasing and taunts rile you up like nothing else, and the man always aims to please.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Steve isn’t particularly loud, just soft grunts and shaky breaths but he loves talking. He’s a talker through and through and loves telling you just how good your body is treating him. How well you take his cock, how beautiful you look all fucked out after your 3rd orgasm, how fucking hard it makes him seeing his cum drip out of you. The talking had taken you by surprise the first time he spoke but now you can’t get enough, can’t deny how much more it turns you on.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

While Steve is most definitely the dominant partner in the bedroom, he does enjoy being pegged. He was extremely hesitant when you brought the idea up initially and it took awhile for him to consider it and be comfortable. Yet, once he actually tried it with you he felt like a changed man. The absolute bliss of being truly taken care of for a change was unreal to him. Plus he couldn't remember ever coming that hard in his life, he damn near blacked out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

With being 6’2, Steve is pretty big in general. Long limbs, lean muscle, and a big cock. You’d been surprised when you first saw him naked, eyes wide. He was a shower and does he show. Sometimes Steve’ll lounge around in his dress pants from work and it’s so easy to tell when he’s turned on when he wears them, the outline clear as day against his thigh. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Steve's sex drive is pretty high, with the stress and adrenaline mixing low in his gut and sizzling when he comes home to you.  It’s almost funny how quickly he comes on to you, whispering something low and filthy in your ear when you’re doing chores around the house. Expect some kind of sex a minimum of 4 times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not too quickly because Steve is all about making sure you’re okay. Cleaned up, hydrated, and well taken care of before he can think about his own needs. After you’re tucked into his chest and breathing slowly does Steve even think about finally sleeping, a kiss to your forehead and closing his eyes.

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Want to kiss?

Pairing = Poe x reader

Words = 5.2k

Summary = You and Poe are friends. Acting married won’t lead to anything. Will it?

Warnings = SMUT (18+only); semi-public fingering, semi-public grinding, implication of a bj, also language 

A/N =  Prompt no.23 requested by @witchyavenger as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” w/ Poe  and bolded in text

Also i might have concentrated more on the smut, than the plot, so if there are a couple of plot holes, that’s why, im not sorry 

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

You weren’t looking forward to this. 

A small, masochistic part of you was, but the larger part of you, the more sensible part, wanted to scream at the prospect. 

Pretending to be a couple with Poe, to have the real thing so close in front of you, yet knowing that you couldn’t, made you want to cry. In fact, you already had. 

The two of you had been briefed together, and told you would be acting as married senators at a gala. The way Poe’s face had tightened at the word ‘married’, made your chest hurt. He hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to before you’d drawn your own conclusions. 

You’d tried not to think about it too much as the briefing had continued, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, and having to blink a little faster. You’d managed to keep it together until you’d gone back to your room, where you’d immediately burst into tears. 

Poe couldn’t even stand the idea of being married to you?

You knew he wasn’t interested in you like that, but that hurt. Hurt more than you’d anticipated. Poe only had to pretend for a mission. And he didn’t want to do that? Now you’re sitting in front of the mirror, and you blow out a big breath. Not right now. Your make-up’s half on, and you don’t have the time to redo it if you start crying, now of all times. 

And the truth was, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew Poe. He was your friend and Commander, nothing more. He’d never given you any indication that he’d ever wanted more, never acted as anything but a good friend to you.  

Now you were in the bathroom of a hotel on Coruscant, and Poe was next door and stars you had to share a bed tonight but you didn’t even want to think about that yet . All you had to do was finish your make-up, do your hair, put your fancy dress on, hope that Poe could bear to pretend to be married to you while the two of you looked for an opportunity to sneak upstairs, break into Senator Sewinn’s office, and gather any incriminating evidence stored there. Simple.

And that wasn’t counting getting out, and sharing a bed with Poe tonight, before your ship departed for the Resistance base tomorrow. 

To put it simply, you were fucked. 

But you’d pushed the emotions away, not wanting to address it. Not wanting to have that horrendous conversation. After all, it wasn’t a crime for someone not to fancy you. 

Now you took a moment for yourself, looking up at the corner where the wall met the ceiling, and exhaling deeply. 

Ok, think. What’s your first job? Make up. 

You took your routine step-by step, finishing your makeup and hair, and pulling your dress on. You took the time to admire yourself in the mirror before you stepped out to face Poe, knowing that he was no doubt going to look absolutely dashing, while not caring either way about your appearance. 

You knew that, except you did look good, even if you said so yourself. You let yourself breathe once more, hands fluttering out any invisible creases in the front of your dress. It had a nice cut for your chest, falling to the floor with a split down your right leg. 

Ok. “Poe?” You knocked on the door before you returned to your room, not wanting to catch him in the middle of changing.

“I’m ready!” Comes the response, and you can’t help yourself, exhaling heavily again before greeting Poe. 

You’d been prepared. Or so you thought.

You’d never seen Poe in a suit before, and it’s more than you could have ever imagined. He fills it out nicely, shoulders looking broader than ever. He’s brushed his hair neatly back, curls subdued for the night. They look darker than ever, strands curling over the back of his collar. Desire and heat are pooling low in your belly, your eyes slow in their movements as they graze over him

He’s freshly shaved after his shower, bronze skin glowing in the yellow light of the lamps scattered around the room. Your mouth is dry, and your breath shaky again. Poe’s looking at you funny, and you must be staring, so you clear your throat, shaking your head a little. 

His tie is slightly to one side, so you step towards him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Can I-?” Your voice is a murmur as your hands reach out, one going to the centre of Poe’s neck. You straighten his tie, ignoring the warmth of his body below your hands and step back. 

You hadn’t realised how intimate that would feel, how close you’d have to get, and now you feel overwhelmed, your body heating up, your heart beating faster. Poe’s looking at you with a strange look in his eyes, like he can’t quite figure out what your motives are, he can’t decide what you want. 

Only, it’s not unusual, is it? Poe’s always been a touchy-feely person, hugging, holding hands, touching whenever he could, it didn’t tend to matter who it was, or what the situation was. 

Except this feels different somehow, heavier. Like you crossed a line in your friendship that you weren’t aware existed. That the intimacy of fixing Poe’s tie, being this close to his body is teetering beyond friendship. Poe’s still looking at you with this heavy gaze, and maybe there’s something in his eyes, but you can’t bear to meet them, can’t bear to face the rejection you’ll find there.

So you swallow, fixing your gaze on the section of wall just to the left of his face, ignoring how your palms are singing from touching Poe, even through his shirt. They itch to do it again, hungry for more, and it takes all of your self control to stop yourself and to take a step back, widening the space between you. 

“Shall we go?” You’re the first to speak, and at your words, Poe seems to snap out of it, closing down, any softness in his eyes, in his face, disappearing. 

He nods, stiffer than he normally is around you, and you can only hope that he’ll loosen up when you get downstairs. “Here's your ring.” He reaches into his breast pocket and hands you a wedding band, gold and simple.

And you’ve been so distracted by the top half of him that you hadn’t seen his on his ring finger, hanging loosely at his side. You don’t say anything as you slip the cold jewellery on, your heart stuttering at the implication of something so plain. 

Stepping out of your room, you take Poe’s offered elbow, and the two of you start your descent to the lobby. It takes you a while to get used to the breeze on your right leg, where your skin is exposed. The building is an old one, corridors extending in every direction with bedrooms and storerooms scattered in a seemingly random order. The lift is quiet, muzak playing faintly out of a tiny speaker. 

“We’ve got this,” you murmur under your breath reassuring yourself. Poe looks at you, but doesn’t say anything, just patting your hand where it rests on his arm. 

The transformation in him when you step into the hall is amazing. His smile, which you recognise enough to tell it’s fake, spreads across his face, and as you enter, he turns his head to your ear, murmuring, “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you looked before.” 

There’s suddenly no air as you turn to look back at Poe, that familiar grin tugging on his lips. Your faces are close again, like a married couples, and you don’t try to hide the pleased look that’s clear across your face, feeling more flustered than you expected. 

His eyes are encouraging, and you’ve never noticed how warm they are, what a soft brown. They’re lighter than you thought, having never been so close to his face before, dark irises increasing in size as he looks at you, waiting for your response. 

You’re married, remember?

So you press your cheek to his smooth one, with a soft “thanks.” 

You turn back to the crowd, missing how Poe’s gaze catches on you for a second longer than normal, instead concentrating on how no one noticed you walk in. Good. The room is busy already, you and Poe one of the last stragglers arriving. Soft music, not dissimilar to the one in lift is playing, largely drowned out by voices chattering away.

The ballroom is light and airy, yellow lamps creating a warm atmosphere, with a marble floor that causes your steps to click. There’s a bar near the entrance, and a stage to your left. 

The beginning of the night is spent hanging off Poe’s arm, making conversation with Senators about brain-dead topics, Poe’s hand moving to squeeze yours in warning whenever you make a slightly too sarcastic comment, usually about the First Order really having an impact, and how it was about time someone made a monopoly of the galaxy anyway. 

You push down the urge to be more sarcastic, if only to feel Poe’s skin on yours again. 

No one seems to notice, especially not when you start to zone out, looking for opportunities to sneak away. The office had to be around this room somewhere; hours of poring over maps of the building had revealed a lot of empty space around the ballroom. And now Senator Sewinn was walking out of a concealed door in the back right of the room, which had to led to his office. 

Unfortunately, he and a number of other important, puffed up looking peacocks of politicians seem intent to stand right in front of it, drawing, if anything, more attention to the door. 

You huff, unknowingly scowling. What was the point of a secret door when you act like that? You may as well make a sign saying ‘Secret, Do Not Enter.’

“You alright, sweetheart?” Poe’s the one to drag you back to where you are, and you do one of those smug, self-centred couple smiles, one that you’d seen far too often, smoothing out your face. 

“Yes, sorry honey.” You step back from the group, suddenly needing a moment. “If you’ll excuse me.” You direct this to the rest of the group, mumbling something about getting a drink, stumbling away, sure they won’t miss you. Poe’s behind you, his presence both stifling and a comfort. 

When you reach the bar, his hand is on the small of your back, and he’s still so warm. How can his hand spread heat through your body like this? Through your dress? “Hey,” his mouth is by your ear again while you wait for the bartender. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head, unsure yourself. “I don’t know Poe. Nothing.” Maybe it’s him. You can’t look directly at him, fearing you’ll combust. 

It’s definitely him. 

But instead, you turn your mouth back to his ear, close enough your mouth just grazes his earlobe as you talk. “Senator Sewinn isn’t leaving the door behind him.”

Poe looks behind you in a casual sweep of the room as you order two drinks. 

When he turns back, his chest is pressing against you now, his arm around your waist, caging you into the bar, and you hope you don’t look as hot as you feel. You practically vibrate under his touch, the urge to push back into him stronger than ever. Poe’s blazer isn’t buttoned up, and it’s almost around you, you can feel the silk of his tie on your back.

Your breath sticks in your throat as he bends to whisper, again. This man is going to kill you. “Good spot sweetheart.” 

Don’t press your hips back into him, you remind yourself, he’s there, but don’t do it. 

You can smell the cologne Poe’s wearing too, the one he only uses on really special occasions and it’s making your head spin. Maybe you need some air. 

You accept the drinks from the bartender, passing over some credits and turning in Poe’s arms, the cold glasses in your palms helping you a little, distracting you from the heat which seems to have settled in your core, pulsing in between your legs. 

Except now you’re facing Poe, facing those warm brown eyes, and are they darker than they were before? Is this better or worse? Face to face, or chest against your back? 

He’s licking his lips as he’s taking the drink from you and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Breathe, in and out. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll move,” it takes a second for you to tune back in, to realise what Poe is talking about. “Sewinn has to make a speech at the other end of the hall, we’re to move then, when everyone’s distracted, remember?” 

His voice is soft, quiet, and you do remember, that the movements he’s describing are all part of the plan, have been ever since the brief, but this man who’s crowding you into the bar, the sharp edge cutting a vertical line into your back, is distracting you from the mission. 

This mission, which is important for the Resistance. 

The mission, which you can’t fail at. 

And, more than that, you can’t let Poe down. 

He’s not interested, you have to remind yourself when a pang of disappointment shoots through you as he steps back. This is fake, you’re fake married. 

Somehow the reminder doesn’t help. 

You sip your drink, cold liquid shooting down your throat as you look anywhere but at him. 

The introductory section drags. You don’t return to the group you were talking to before, instead choosing to stay near the bar, exchanging the odd observation with Poe, the two of you consistently getting closer than you really need to talk. 

He’s acting more normal now, his smile more natural as he relaxes. His hand has found a home on you, it doesn’t seem to matter where, moving from your shoulder to your back to your waist. You don’t dare mention it, afraid he’ll stop, when that’s the last thing you want. 

Sometimes you feel like a black hole, desperately looking for love and touch, and sucking up whatever you can find, always needing more. You hate to think that maybe that’s what you cherish most about your friendship with Poe - that even as his friend, he touches you, and hugs you, and gives you a kiss. Although it does spark the idea of Poe being cuddly in bed, that if you ever went out with him, he would always try and have his hands on you. You allow yourself these soft dreams for a moment, before tuning back in before Poe can notice. 

You’ve nearly finished your drink when the quiet background music starts to fade, and to your delight Sewinn begins to move. The crowd easily parts for him, and you wonder briefly what it is about him that makes people so responsive. What would it be like to have that kind of power? 

You grasp Poe’s hand, feeling his calluses on your palm when he makes his move, pulling him to stay with you a second longer. “Wait for him to settle,” you say, knowing there’s no rush, yet. 

And so you do, the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, pretending to listen to the senator’s drivel. And then he turns, looking for the trophy he’s using to make his announcement more convincing, and you pull Poe along the back wall, still holding his hand as you lean against the hidden door and allowing a grin as it clicks open. 

And you’re in. 

You blink in surprise when you realise it’s really been that easy. You’d expected at least a locked door to get in the way. But no, you’re standing in the Senator's office, looking at a large desk, footsteps suddenly muffled by the plush carpet and still holding Poe’s hand. 

You drop it like you've been burned, not daring to look at Poe as you go to the other side of the desk. There’s bookshelves around all the walls, creating a slightly dark and gloomy look, especially in contrast with the light ballroom next door. 

You start going through the drawers as Poe plugs in the holostick that he’d been given, downloading files for later reading. Most drawers contain useless information, files on drinks needed for the party, a bill for the band later, business cards and other junk. There’s one locked drawer you can’t open, even when you try and pick it. 

You give it a kick in frustration when it still doesn’t open, earning a snicker from Poe. “Did that help, sweetheart?”  

You scowl at him, not bothering to answer, and determined to not mention the fact that your foot really hurts now. “How long left?” you ask, deflecting instead.

“Two minutes,” is the answer and you nod, going to one of the bookshelves, hand idly tracing down a number of spines. None are in a language you recognise, and when you turn back to tell Poe so, you find him leaning against the desk and watching you. His legs seem longer at this angle, thighs … bigger. And you’ve seen this man with a harness wrapped around his legs like a second skin. 

You wonder what it would be like to … You shake your head before you can finish that thought, mouth dry even as you remind yourself that Poe’s your friend. Your friend. “I can’t read any of these,” you tell him instead, watching his head snap up to meet your eyes as you talk. 

And then a lot of things happen very quickly. 

Before Poe can respond, the holostick beeps, he unplugs it, just as the door to the ballroom clicks open. Before you can react, he’s closing the steps between you, holostick clasped in a fist, crowding you into the bookshelf behind you. When he speaks, it’s a low, quiet, “I’m sorry,” his forearm coming to rest next to your head, and you can smell him again, eyes falling closed like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The scent is familiar and grounding, and even as your heart rate picks up, you feel calmer, Poe’s other hand holding your cheek. His head turns, your noses bumping and his lips are so close to you … he’s going to kiss you.

And then he stops, except he’s moving like he is kissing you, and you realise his hand is connecting your two faces and there’s someone else in the room, so you don’t think, you just react. You widen your legs so Poe can step between them, and you let out a breath, nearly but not quite grinding on his leg, moaning low in your throat as one of your hands flies to the nape of Poe’s neck.

“Excuse me!” The guard’s voice is sharp, and cross, which is fair enough, you later reason, when you think that you wouldn’t want to find two people snogging in your boss’s office. Awkward one to report, that. 

Poe is slow to separate from you, his eyes dark when he opens them, and you're breathing embarrassingly fast considering he didn’t actually kiss you. He turns, standing just in front of you, a protective stance, whether he realises it or not. 

“Sorry, sir,” his voice is more hoarse than normal, and you never realised what a good actor Poe is. You sheepishly smile at the guard who just huffs and ushers you outside, grumbling about how disrespectful the two of you are and warning you not to do it again. 

The two of you stand in the hall, Sewinn just wrapping up his speech. Your head is spinning and you can’t think. 

Poe seems entirely unaffected by the whole thing, winking at you as he grins, joining in with the clapping at the end of the speech. You copy him, but you feel like you’re moving at half the speed of everyone else, your whole body screaming to be surrounded by Poe again. 

“Are you alright?” Poe asks you, and is it that obvious that you aren’t? You can only nod, not trusting your voice to be steady. “I’m sorry … about, in there, I just-”

“Stars, Poe.” You interrupt, not wanting to hear it. “It’s fine, it was good, quick thinking on your part.” You force a smile, and if Poe notices, he drops it. “We did it, though,” You add after a second, the silence between you somehow worse. 

Poe grins, and you know you’ll be ok, the breathless, hot feeling gradually fading, your senses tuning back into the room around you, hearing the band setting up, everyone moving around you. “We did.” Is all he says, extending his hand in mock performance when the band start playing. “May I have this dance?”

You allow yourself to relax, graciously accepting it. “Why, kind sir, of course!” The two of you are giggling as you start to dance, neither of you aware of what the steps are, just concentrating on having a good time. The music isn’t particularly great; the stuffy sort that politicians think make them look classy, when really it just makes them look like pretentious assholes. 

You both get bored of this pretty soon, Poe losing his jacket as the two of you get warmer and warmer, dancing ridiculously in a corner. 

When your feet begin to hurt you pull on Poe’s hand, taking him away from the dancefloor. The hall is hot, and you want fresh air. You feel flushed, the cold air nice on your warm cheeks. 

You’re walking along the corridor back to your room, talking about the best song you’d play to start a party. Poe’s jacket under hanging off his arms, hands stuffed in his pockets. You try not to look directly at him too much as the two of you discuss better songs. “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy is one that would definitely get everyone going.” Poe says it likes it’s the simplest thing in the world, his answer the definitive one, while you snort. 

“You only think that because you want an excuse to ask everyone that all the time. No - Gimme, Gimme, Gimme is the best. Hands down.” Maybe you’re just as bad as he is. “Rasputin is another good one,” you add, “there’s dance moves and everything.” 

“No!” Poe’s voice is low, exaggerating his horror by dragging out his vowels, being over-dramatic now, “the best one for dance moves is Rock the Boat.” 

You ruffle his hair in that way he hates. “You like that because you can sit down!” Your laughter is interrupted when Poe’s head snaps up, looking towards the end of the corridor.

You pause, looking for the cause of the change in Poe’s attention. Hearing the voices approaching you, he grabs your hand, pulling you into an alcove, pulling the curtain across. There’s hardly room for the two of you to breathe, bodies pressed together, wall cold on your back as you listen to the footsteps coming closer. 

“... and Sewinn is going to want his whores there.” A nasal voice, coming closer. 

You stop breathing, glancing at Poe, who shakes his head. “The usual ones?” The question is spat by a deeper voice, while the other person presumably nods. “Fuck! They think they have more influence, always looking down on us, when Sewinn listens to us.” 

Poe’s hand fumbles around yours, fingers intertwining and squeezing gently in comfort, sending electricity up your arm. The same deep voice continues down the corridor, passing you. “And he just can’t get enough of them, especially that boy with the awful fashion sense, I mean really...” 

The voice fades gradually, passing you in a blur in the corner of your eye. You determinedly concentrate on looking at the fluttering curtain, a shade of blood red, suddenly too shy to look at Poe. 

This mission has been a lot. Working with Poe, who you have a desperate crush on, pretending to be married, and now standing far too close for comfort while you listen to people talk complain about influence in the Senate. You can’t hold it in any longer, the two of you dissolving into giggles, bodies collapsing forwards, Poe’s jacket landing on the floor with a soft whump.

And maybe it’s the release of this tension but when you finally compose yourselves, leaning back as much as you can in the small space even though you could leave, or maybe it’s the fact that his thumb is now massaging your palm, but the words tumble out before you can think. 

“Poe I like you.” He hasn’t let go of your hand yet, which is a good sign, right? But he also hasn’t said anything, so you keep talking. “Like you, like you, I mean.” Why can’t you shut up? There’s something unreadable in Poe’s eyes. “Like I would quite like to go on a date with you sometime and maybe -” 

Eventually Poe stops you with his free hand, covering your mouth for a beat, enough to get you to shut up. Is he closer? You didn’t think it was possible. His face is unreadable, even as he looks into your eyes, considering something “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” 

Your mind goes blank, your mouth dropping open as Poe removes his hand, going to his tie, loosening the knot. “What?” you just manage to stammer out. 

Poe just tips his head, like he’s considering the best angle to kiss you. “I like you like you too, sweetheart.” He’s teasing, but it’s fond, you realise with a rush of affection. All night he’s been looking at you like this, with fondness. “Can I kiss you?” He’s almost begging. 

Words escape you. You nod, unable to breathe, unable to talk anymore. Poe leans towards you, tilting his head, eyes closed, long lashes fluttering on his cheeks. At the last second, you remember to close your eyes, kissing him back. 

His hand moves to your hip, pulling you towards him, where you can feel him, already half-hard under his trousers, pressing against you. Poe slides his hand under the split in your skirt, warm hand on your skin, pulling your leg up as his hand travels down your thigh, settling into the crook of your knee, opening your legs and pulling your core closer to him.  

You catch on, wrapping your leg happily around his waist, not caring how exposed you must be, gasping when you grind against him again, and Poe’s even harder now, the seam of his trousers catching on something pleasurable between your legs. You’re already more aroused than you really have any right to be, considering he’s hardly done anything to you yet, but you’ve been thrumming at a low level all evening. 

You’re still kissing, even as he grinds against you, pushing you more into the wall behind you, and you feel overwhelmed, already, in the best way possible. All you can hear are your combined breaths, breathy sighs that fill the small space. You feel hot, nearly overheating, the cool wall balmy on your flushed skin behind you. 

You forget where you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, Poe taking over all your senses. His tongue is in your mouth, teeth biting at your lip and all you can do is let him. Your free hand moves to his hair, tugging gently and feeling a pull of satisfaction in your core at his low groan. His hair is soft, and thick and you don’t want to let go, the sudden image of pulling on his hair when his head’s between your thighs jumping to your mind’s eye.

You finally let go of his hand so you can hold onto his shoulders, the crisp white shirt becoming crumpled in your grasp and helping you balance on one leg. Poe’s now-free hand pulls your skirt fully up around your waist, no doubt causing some creases and teases you, playing with the hem of your underwear, fingers tracing circles into your hip.

You groan into his mouth, you can feel yourself getting wetter, and your hips unconsciously buck into his hands, wanting more. When Poe pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, you’re both breathless. His eyes have blown wide, and you’re sure yours look the same. You’re panting a little, even as Poe keeps his movements regular, grinding his dick into you, moving his hips up and adjusting his position with every moan you let out. 

“So good to me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing down your neck now. “You feel so good, you … urgh … you don’t even know how much you turn me on…” He sounds breathless, even as he continues to talk. 

And then he surges up, hitting your clit and you can’t help it, crying out. Pleasure’s building in your body, all centred around Poe, and you want more of it, more of him. You can’t see Poe’s face, but you feel the smirk he presses to your skin as he does it again. And then his hand that’s playing with your underwear moves, pulling it away from your skin, dipping his hand down and stroking one long finger through your wet folds. 

The moan you let out is broken. “Poe…” That’s all it takes for him to push his finger inside you, motioning gently towards himself. You can hear how wet you are as a second finger joins the first, a steady squelch in time with his movements. His fingers are thicker than yours are, and you feel dizzy at the thought of being stretched on his dick. His palm is grazing against your clit with every movement, steady and repetitive. 

Poe’s fingers feel so good, moving inside you, gently building you higher and higher while he watches your face, kissing your jaw, your ear. Your moans come out in breathy whines, repetitions of his name, and soft oh’s of pleasure. You can only hold onto him, trusting he’ll catch you if your leg gives out, only half-aware that anyone could walk past and hear or see Poe utterly destroy you. 

You start to moan more and before you even realise what’s happening, Poe’s greedily kissing you as you fall apart from his fingers. He keeps kissing you as he works you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers, his tongue in your mouth while your hips buck forwards still. 

You’d feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. “Yes, by the way,” His voice is low as he moves to kiss the soft spot under your ear now. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

You can only frown as Poe removes his fingers from inside you, glistening wet and placing them on your lips, pushing gently until you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers, your own tart taste filling your mouth. “What?” You mumble, Poe’s digits muffling your voice. 

“I’d quite like to go on date with you sometime too.” 

You nod slowly, your post-orgasm haze lifting slower than normal. “Can we go to bed first?” Poe’s fingers are still half in your mouth, and you suck on the tips a little for emphasis, widening your eyes. And then you get an idea. “Or, actually,” you purr, removing your leg from Poe’s waist, and gently pushing his shoulders so he hits the wall behind him as you drop to your knees in front of him. “Maybe we should stay here for a minute.” 

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

this is the suit I was imagining, but the hair was all wrong for Poe. also I know that there are technically no suits in Star Wars canon, but I wanted to write it this way so

[wangshuus]

liquid sin || kaeya alberich

pairing: kaeya alberich/gn.reader

genre: drama

wc: 1.9k

cw: mature themes, alcohol, poisoning, unhealthy relationship

summary: the calvary captain was more of a hassle than you thought. wherever you were, he was always one step ahead.

note: this is a repost lol. tysm for 100 followers i really appreciate it <3 also a little a/n at the end :)

lightly proofread. please excuse any errors.

fic below the cut.

“Kaeya Alberich, you know of the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, do you not?”

“I’ve heard my fair share. He’s got himself quite a reputation.”

“I suppose that’ll suffice. That knight has been far too much of a hassle for us. He’s swift, agile with the way he handles things. He’ll use whatever means to get what he wants or needs so be cautious and rid of him in any way you wish. I trust you’ll be able to handle this so I’m counting on you.”

“Yes, as you wish.”

--

Tedious.

That was the best word to describe the situation you roped yourself into.

Kaeya Alberich, the esteemed Cavalry Captain of the Knights in Mondstadt was nothing short of a challenge. You were never one to question anything you were assigned to and you thought that this was gonna be some quick easy clean up but it was anything but that. You had to find a way to weave yourself into getting close to the said captain and by doing so, you had to play the long game. He was not a person that you wanted to underestimate by any means because the dwindling gossip you’ve heard about the man was nothing but the truth.

The moment you decided you would get involved with the man was the very moment the game between the two of you had begun. It was an unspoken exchange of moves that on the surface, was nothing but courteous and flirtatious remarks but in reality, these actions were laced with ulterior motives that each side hoped would bring them to be victorious in this little game. You weren’t a fool nor did you take him for one either. You knew that whatever you two had going had a darker side to the situation and yet, you decided to play along.

But it was getting exhausting. Although, perhaps that’s what he wanted.

To drain you, to get you in a vulnerable spot.

But you refused to let it get to that point.

And so you decided tonight was the night.

--

“They serve wonderful food as per usual. Never fails to disappoint me, truly.” You said as you opened the door to your place whilst you resided in Mondstadt.

“Of course, dear. I wouldn’t bring you to a place that was anything less than perfect. Only this best for you.” He smoothly said, speaking his part in the way he always does. So polished, so suave.

You simply chuckled at his response as you led the two of you inside.

“It’s not much but it does get the job done. Make yourself comfortable on the couch while I get you a drink, alright?”

“You flatter me too much. Don’t make me wait too long, though.” He playfully spoke.

He watched your figure disappear into the depths of your kitchen. His eyes began to trail around and scan around the room, observing the environment to the best of his ability. His hand traveled to the pocket at his side as he smirked to himself, simply awaiting for the events that the night holds to unfold before him.

--

You retreated into your kitchen as you retrieved the necessary materials to go about making Kaeya’s drink since according to you, this could be one of the last ones he might ever have. You popped open a fresh bottle of sparkling wine and poured it into the finest wine glass you had at the moment, three parts of crisp Dandelion Wine following right after, supplied from the famous Dawn Winery. You had gathered these fine wines specially for him, deciding it was appropriate to get the job done with ‘Death After Noon’, a concoction the blue-haired male fancied. You garnished it with small mint leaves as you pulled out the final ingredient for your mix.

You retrieved a small vile from your pocket that held a small amount of clear liquid. You dabbled in the art of alchemy in order to help you with the jobs you were assigned and in this case, it’d surely come in handy. You had prepared this poison just for this mission, making it so it wouldn’t kick in immediately but when it did, it would most definitely get the job done. You stirred the man’s drink together, making sure that everything was well mixed. You held the glass up, observing it thoroughly before heading back to where your target sat.

You walked up to him, holding the glass towards him, motioning him to take the drink.

“Death After Noon, huh? You know me too well, don’t you dear?” He smirked as he observed the drink filled glass he held between his fingers.

“Of course I do. Just a second I’ll be right ba--.” Before you could finish your sentence and take your leave, he grabbed your wrist, coercing you to stay.

“Won’t you come here and sit with me?” He asked, though it was a demand more than anything.

If you had decided to pull away and flee, it’d be far too obvious that there was something up and so, you decided to take a gamble on the situation and comply. He pulled you onto down, setting you on top of him, your legs straddling his lap as you faced him. The hand that held your wrist made its way to the small of you back as he held you firmly in place. You put both of your palms against his chest in an attempt to widen the distance between the two of you but to no avail.

Though the two of you had aimlessly flirted with each other, you had never found yourself this close to him. You got an up-close look at the captain as there was only so much distance between the two of you. Despite your duty in the situation, you couldn’t help but let a dusting of pink make an appearance on your cheeks. You had decided that faking up a shy, oblivious facade was the best way to go about in an attempt to drown out your suspicion.

“What do you have up your sleeve, Captain?” You called out to him by his title.

“I should be asking you the same thing, dear. Don’t play coy with me darling, we both know what’s going on here.” He spoke.

Your face dropped a little hearing his words, thinking that he may be quicker to catch onto things than you expected. Your eyes looked over to his drink that remained untouched as he continued to swirl the drink in his glass that he held between his fingertips.

“Is the drink not to your liking?” You asked in an attempt to change the subject.

He hummed as his attention diverted to the drink, observing it just as intently as the way you scanned it before you gave it to him. His eyes turned back to you, a dark look fogging over them.

“It seems you didn’t make a drink for yourself. I insist you have some of mine.” “Oh, but I made it for y--” You get cut off.

“I insist.” He firmly states.

You gulped, accepting your fate at hand.

“Now,” He started off.

The hand that was at the small of your back trailed its way up to the back of your neck, forming a firm hold on you once again. He brought you closer to him as he pressed the cold glass against your lips.

“Be good and open up wide for me.” He said as he titled your head back slightly, tipping the glass at an angle so that the liquid sin began to make its way into your mouth. You felt the cold mix make its way down your throat and you probably would’ve enjoyed the delectable drink if it weren’t lethal.

“You know, you’re quite the actor yourself, to which I will commend you for. You’re a quick one sweetheart, but I’m quicker.” He teased.

You were baffled beyond belief. You had planned and strategized to the point where you thought you were at least three steps ahead. In reality, wherever you were, Kaeya stood in front of you, taunting you from his spot.

“I was fully aware of the little game we had going on here. However, it was far too entertaining for me to want to stop. It’s like playing with fire, isn’t it?” He spoke.

He held a smug look on his face, one that simply mocked you. It was the face of someone who knew they claimed victory; victorious he was in this little game between the two of you. Your eyes begin to dart around as you begin to think of a way to make an escape. You could only hope that you would have enough time before your body decides to give out. Perhaps if you were lucky, you could even find an antidote. However, knowing your luck in the situation as of right now, you doubt Lady Luck would be on your side today. His grip at the back of your neck tightened and you flinched.

“Look at me.” He boomed with a demanding tone that he had never used with you until today.

He watched your throat move as you swallowed the liquid, scornful eyes burning with mockful vengeance as he reigned dominant in this situation. He was beyond ecstatic with the way the situation unfolded before him, the way you unfolded before him. He was able to turn the predator into the prey just by playing his cards right and oh how perfectly did he play them. The liquid slowly but surely disappeared as only a small bit remained in the glass-- and he was going to make you finish every last drop of it.

“That’s it, that’s good, love. Be a dear and take every last drop. We wouldn’t want this lovely drink to go to waste now, would we?” He spoke out, dumping the last of the contents into your mouth and setting the empty glass on the side table on the

“There you go. You were so good and you finished like I told you so. I could almost forgive you for poisoning me but unfortunately, I’m expecting a little more from you. Maybe if you continue to be good for me, I’ll consider forgiving you.” He smugly said.

The hand supporting your neck went back down to your waist as his other free hand made its way to your face. He wipes off the small amount of the liquid that dribbled down the side of your mouth. His thumb slides across your bottom lip, getting a feel for its softness before going in and indulging himself in your lips. He figured he didn’t even need alcohol to get drunk anymore, not when your lips made him feel tipsy as they were pressed against his own. Perhaps in your own way, you had trapped him with your own delectable taste that could rival his beloved Death After Noon; though he would never admit to it right now. He pulled away and looked you dead in the eyes as his one hand forced you to look at him.

“However, if you try and pull that stunt again, I’ll have you begging for me to just poison you instead.” He threatened.

His hand dropped from your face as it slipped into his pocket, grabbing something from inside. He pulled out a small little vile, similar to that of which carried toxic poison.

“You wouldn’t want this little game between us to end so soon, would you? Now, open up and take this antidote, sweetheart. The fun is just starting after all.”

A/N: First of all, all the inspiration and ideas are credited to chamberofsecretbooks on Tiktok. Saw the one video with this concept and I just HAD to write for Kaeya. I did make a few adjustments to it but all ideas stemmed from that one video lolol. Also, if you haven’t seen THE Kaeya video, please watch it. It is god tier. Anyways, Kaeya supremacy <3

[kurosarium]

post breakup headcanons

Headcanons about some characters and how they deal with being broken up with. This is me trying to cope with my own breakup. I feel like absolute shit, but somehow I got inspired by my sadness and wrote these in like an hour, which is pretty fast for me.

Feedback is much appreciated!

featuring: Akaashi, the Miya twins, Sakusa, Kuroo, Suna and Bokuto

warnings: angst ig

❀ ❀ ❀

Miya Atsumu:

He’s going to be really dramatic about it, but it’s not like he’s doing it for no reason, you know? Atsumu definitely tries to keep his act together around his peers, but his mood is greatly affected by the breakup, so it won’t be hard for people to tell that something must have happened. He’s less of a tease and less talkative. While his demeanor doesn’t change too much when he’s in public, except for being less of a tease (and a pain in the ass), he will most likely cry his heart out in the confines of his own home and may or may not try to drown his sorrow in alcohol. He’d feel super depressed and lethargic during the first few days, or even weeks. He may not look like it, and definitely doesn’t act like it often, but once he lets someone into his life and decides to give himself to them he becomes very invested and tends to be a bit clingy, so the thought of losing the person closest and most precious to him is unimaginable to him. He loves hard, and if he really, genuinely loved his partner then he will be a total disaster after they broke up with him. Atsumu will visit his brother’s shop A LOT more often, whine about his worries and stuff his mouth with fatty tuna.

Akaashi Keiji:

He will most likely distract himself with work. Keeping himself occupied at all costs, because his mind tends to wander and he will only make himself more miserable if he starts to think about his ex-partner and their breakup. He knows that himself, so he really tries to drown out any of his thought that aren’t work related for the time being. You might not even notice that he’s suffering, because it’s not an unusual occurrence for Akaashi to work ungodly hours. What gives him away, to his close friends at least, is that he doesn’t answer any of their calls or text, and if he does, he will respond with one-word-answers only. He pretty much isolates himself for a while and rejects any invites from his friends. The thing is, that his feeling will pile up and he will eventually break, and he will end up crying alone at his work desk, without anyone to comfort him. He knows his behavior is bad for him and will only make him feel worse, but he just can’t help it. He may reject his friends approaches, but he will secretly thank them if they ignore his wishes and come over uninvited and drag him out with them. He really doesn’t want to be suffering alone, but he has a hard time expressing his feelings, he’s learning and getting better at it, though.  

Suna Rintaro:

Suna’s already someone who behaves pretty indifferent in most situations and doesn’t express his emotions openly, but after getting his heart broken he becomes even more apathetic, and his seems like absolutely nothing brings him joy, or even matters to him. It’s going to be really frustrating for all of his friends and family members. This being said, it wouldn’t be difficult to notice his extreme behavior, he just seems completely out of it, spaces out all the time and blankly stares into the distance. If you wouldn’t know he was going through immense emotional pain, it would almost seem comedic. While Suna’s face hides it perfectly, he feels utterly lost and doesn’t really know how to cope with the situation. Still, he prefers to not talk about his emotional said, neither with his closest friends, nor with his family, and instead shuts completely off and keeps to himself. You’d really have to worm everything out of him if you’d want him to tell you what’s up with him. Sooner or later he will get overwhelmed by his feelings, though, at the latest when he unexpectedly encounters his ex again.

Miya Osamu:

He just doesn’t deal with it. Similar to Akaashi he tries to keep himself busy, but he does it more successfully? Like, he actually seems to be doing okay and when he tells his friends that there’s nothing to worry about and that he’s doing fine, it sounds very convincing to most people. Except for his brother and a handful of friends, that is (like Aran, he just knows). Still, he is able to suppress his emotions and tried really hard to not let them affect him too much, and after a while it actually seems like he’s over his past lover, but oh boy is that far from the truth. It really depends on how much and how deeply he loved that person, though. While I imagine that he’s an intense love like his brother, it’s more difficult to get access to him and his emotions. Osamu’s excellent at not getting too involved and has very good control over his emotions, but if his ex was someone he genuinely loved and opened himself up to, then I can see him reacting to a breakup in a similar way as his brother.  

Kuroo Tetsurou:

I see him handling being broken up with well? Like, he sure is emotional about it, but he deals with it in a mature way and tries to understand his ex-partner’s reasoning to the best of his ability. He definitely will allow himself to be sad and even shed a tear here and there, but he also knows when enough is enough. I imagine he will give himself some sort of time frame where he allows himself to grieve and be sad, but after the time’s up (could be a few days or a few weeks) he will actively try to move on and keep his mind occupied so his thoughts won’t start to wander to a bad place. I can also see him keeping in touch with his ex, not immediately after the break up, but at some point, even if it’s just on a superficial basis. If he truly cared about them as a person, then he wouldn’t want them to be completely out of his life (I’m projecting here but that’s ok). So basically, Kuroo copes by giving himself the time to feel brokenhearted, but also in being more socially active after coming to a point where he believes he grieved enough. He will focus on the people around him and go out with his friends more and try to get his mind off of his ex-partner. All in all, I’d say his way of coping with a breakup (with him being the one who gets broken up with) in a relatively healthy way. One thing he’d definitely do, especially in the beginning, is turning up at Kenma’s place at the most random times to play games with him. Some things just don’t change.

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

Sakusa’s even better at hiding and suppressing his feelings than Osamu. Like, people that aren’t super close with him wouldn’t even have known he was in a relationship in the first place. He’s that secretive about his personal life and only trusts handpicked people with the details of his life. For everyone who does know him better, though, it’s pretty easy to tell that something’s off with him. He’s a lot moodier and meaner, sometimes even unintentionally overstepping boundaries, and the bags under his eyes grow visibly darker. Sakusa tends to drink more caffeinated drinks when he’s stressed, which keep him up at night and encourage his brain to fill itself with what ifs and other intrusive thoughts. He’s basically a tired mess, and the people around, especially those he sees every day, will notice he’s being deprived of sleep, because it’s no secret that Sakusa usually values his 8 hours of beauty sleep. So, while his behavior does change, he could tell people literally anything and they’d believe it to be the reason for his slightly odd behavior. I also don’t see him as someone who easily opens up about his feelings, so he’d probably bury that shit deep within.

Bokuto Koutarou:

It’s going to be really difficult to cheer this big Baby up. Bokuto just spends days moping around and will have absolutely no motivation to do anything, not even Volleyball. Sure, he will go to practice and participate in games, but there’s definitely a change in his aura, he’s less energetic and spaces out way more often. The coach will probably have to pull him aside more than once during practice. It will definitely take more than his teammates or a few good friends to get him to function properly again, I think what he really needs is just time. But he definitely doesn’t want to be alone, so he will reach out for his friends and try to distract himself a bit with their company. It will take Bokuto a lot of time to get over his past lover, though. He’s someone who gets very emotionally invested in things, and people no less. I also imagine him to be the kind of person that tries to contact their ex after the breakup, asking if they could talk things over again or try to find another solution, he doesn’t want to let go that easily if he’s convinced there is or could be another way.

[maxwell-grant]

If you wanted to make a "punchier" origin for the Shadow, wouldn't it make more sense to emphasize his roots as a war veteran? Assuming the stories are still in the 30's, he's fought in WW1, he's seen the atrocities committed 'cause of a single assassination, so he builds his organization of agents to stop similar events from happening.

It does, yes. It tends to get brought up by modern creators that want to avoid the movie backstory, but still want to add some more personal dramatic background to a Shadow story. But modern audiences seem to want something punchier than "went to war, picked up a lot of skills, decided to fight crime with them", which is the cliffnotes version of the typical American pulp hero origin.

I use "punchy" in the sense of it being something instantly dramatic and easily understood at first glance in order to get the character's motivation, like dead parents for superheroes or John Wick's dead dog, something that immediately creates a "relatable" sales pitch.

Backstory-wise, The Shadow is more like Wolverine in the sense that their backstories are more of a sandbox writers can play around to add to the character rather than a rigid guideline of what defines their motivation, but even then, Wolverine has Weapon X. You can know nothing else about Wolverine's origin other than he was tortured and treated like an animal by mad scientists and you'd still get the basic gist of his motivation now, where as The Shadow's motivation (and inner thoughts in general) have been much more out of focus.

Not entirely hidden, mind you, but it's easy for a lot of fans, even those who've read the pulp stories, to try and fill in the gaps because they expect some grand mystery of a motivation, and not just that he does what he does because he can and because he cares about helping people, and it's maybe the least complicated thing about his entire character (not that it's without reasons or motivations proper), because it's the only thing that tangibly anchors The Shadow as a character to...anything, really.

If you want an appropriately "punchy" origin story in The Shadow, you'll find instead something like a young man tossing himself off a bridge out of sheer desperation after losing all control of his life, before being whisked away at the last minute by a stranger who looks like "Death itself" and steps in to take the reigns by stating "Your life is no longer your own. It now belongs to me". And I suspect half the reason why that line's become so famous, and so misinterpreted, is because it's a raw ass line of dialogue out of context, especially if you hear about The Shadow with the impression he's a superhero and, well, superheroes don't say that kind of thing.

Like I said before, I "get" why the movie backstory existed (especially considering it's for a movie and movies do kinda mandate short-term backstories), and the idea of him having a horrible background he's atoning for stuck. I disagree with it, but there's a logic to it. I find it a logic that's changed the character for the worse, and was also deeply misguided to begin with. It's a logic that's suitable for a character who needs to be a superhero, but as I've said before, The Shadow should not be approached as a superhero, or as something other than what he already is or was.

Let's assume for a second that he really does need a darker and more dramatic backstory with a more solid "hook" as to why he's doing this whole thing. Let's assume that he needs to have a better "reason" for doing good and fighting evil than just being able to do it and knowing it throughly and wanting to protect people. And let's assume that

"Born in the Lost Generation, went to serve in the Army very young, worked as a spy for the British before and during the war and was stationed in Tsarist Russia for a couple of years, and then fought in World War 1 while conducting rescue missions from POW camps. Then spent the years following it traveling all over the world restlessly looking for purpose, only to one day decide to completely bury his identity to fight crime, also there's something deeply horrifying with his face that could be either a war injury or something else. We know a lot of odd facts about his other travels and also know at some point he's lost lives under his protection and this is something he brings up right in his first appearence, but we know literally nothing whatsoever about the 20 years of his life before the Army"

still needs a little extra material to it.

If you really want to take The Shadow and give him a "dark past", why not work within the material already existing? He was both a spy for the British Service (and possibly others), as well as a soldier in The Great War who was reputedly really great at winning battles, and neither of these are jobs that look even nearly as glamorous to us now as they might have been intended to be when this backstory was created.

At separate points in his life, as a spy he worked as a tool of governments and secret services as a spy (and spies make a living out of being those, as well as professional bastards), and regardless of what he may have done as a spy, as a soldier and aviator, he had to have killed a lot of German men whose only crime may have been merely that they were of enlistment age when the war happened. And then at some point he started performing rescue missions single-handedly, not to kill people, but to guide men towards their safety, and then after a couple of years of wandering and traveling, he decided very firmly that Kent Allard and all of his history needed to crash into South America and stay dead until called upon.

Maybe as a matter of eficiency first and foremost, of course, but nothing is ever just one thing when it comes to The Shadow. You don't just survive a life-changing war and immediately decide to walk into another one of your volition 100% purely for pragmatic reasons.

Frankly, giving him a past as a bloodthirsty warlord in Tibet is not just dumb as hell, it's also overkill, because if you want to dig into The Shadow's past to find things for him to regret or feel emotional conflict towards, I don't think there's any shortage of that in what the pulp canon already provides us, nor is there a shortage of places where you can insert those because, again, the dude's backstory is a sandbox. 20 years of this character's life are a complete blank.

I think, if you do need to add a hook to it for your adaptation, it's largely a matter of picking which part in particular you want to play around with and emphasize out of the many, many possibilities you get to work with in playing around with his backstory.

Although, frankly, I could stand to read a lot less modern Shadow stories that are all about what kind of past he had, because they tend to miss the point rather crucially in making him all about the past instead of the creature of the now he was designed to be and thrived as.

Maybe he does need to bury his past again.

[yourfavisirredeemable]

souyo angst - post-true ending

y’all the souyo tag has been more active than I’ve seen it in a long time (I think cause of the PC release) which makes me happier than I can measure. I’ve loved persona 4 ever since 8th grade and souyo really is my favorite ship of all time. in celebration, here’s a bunch of angst headcanons I’ve been holding onto for 5 years, specifically related to the izanami battle/true ending. (they’re actually not necessarily souyo-specific, but since I ship souyo they kinda have that overall vibe)

- do y’all really think yu narukami is just gonna come away from that battle with izanami/being trapped in a time loop illusion for an untold period of time and NOT bring any trauma with him? cause I don’t

- specifically, he can’t get rid of a horrible, nagging thought that follows him even after the IT celebrates their victory - what if this is all still part of izanami’s illusion? izanami could have just nested an illusion inside of an illusion, and that way, she can defeat him without him even knowing it

- which would mean, of course, that his friends are all still dead and he’s just living it up with a bunch of illusions. his friends sacrificed themselves for him, while he gets to live out his summer days in peace surrounded by a perfect simulation.

- that thought is terrifying to him, and it only grows over time. there’s the horror of nothing being real and his friends being dead, compounded with the guilt of having abandoned them and the helplessness of never being able to know the truth. he has the cold realization one night that he’ll never again know for certain that the world he’s living in is the real one.

- but he tries to keep it to himself and act like he normally does. after all, if he can’t ever know for sure, why worry about it? this world is probably the real one - his friends seem normal, time keeps flowing like it usually does, and even the velvet room seems the same as it was before

- as hard as he tries, his doubts and fears are really impacting his mental health, which eventually affects the way he acts. it’s subtle, but the others eventually notice it - yosuke does first, since he knows yu the best.

- he notices that whenever there’s a silence, yu will stare off into space with a strained and even slightly fearful expression. he’s worried, but he just tries to be there for his partner like normal, figuring he’ll talk to him if he needs someone to rely on

- rise notices the dark circles under his eyes and asks about them, to which yu nonchalantly responds that his part time work keeps him a little busy. chie notices that he doesn’t seem to have as much fun when they work out or watch movies, and yukiko notices the way he starts withdrawing from conversations until he’s standing at the edge of the group, even quieter than normal.

- teddie and kanji don’t notice anything on their own, but eventually those who have started to get worried bring it up with the rest of the group. naoto, of course, has noticed everything, but nothing in yu’s behavior has indicated it’s anything worse than blues about leaving inaba or stress from work

- yu, for his part, realizes that his friends probably know something’s up, but every day he feels less and less motivated to tell them what’s actually wrong. after all, what would he even say - I’m afraid all of you are illusions, and my real friends are already dead? 

- plus, there’s the fact that saying his fears out loud would somehow make them feel more real. so instead, he tries to ignore them, and only spirals more

- he starts feeling really scared when he finds himself having the occasional violent thought toward his own friends - if the real yosuke’s dead, why should this illusion get to live? how dare an illusion pretend to be his best friend?

(more specific headcanons/fic ideas under the cut)

- imo, the possibilities for this headcanon are endless. you can take your hurt/comfort as far as you want it to go (personally, I love projecting my mental illness onto fictional characters so full depression/anxiety is definitely on the table), and the timeframe means any fics could be set either before or after he leaves inaba

- personally, I think it could be interesting if he returns to the TV world, perhaps to look for answers or just to blow off some steam, and finds out his shadow’s gotten loose again. which would ofc mean that now he’s trapped in the TV world with no persona, a shadow that for sure wants to kill him, and a dungeon of his own forming around him

- (btw, I know the TV world changes after the fight with izanami, but I think since it still exists and the IT still has personas, they can still have shadows as well)

- this would be an interesting way for the IT to find out what’s really been happening. they would notice yu missing and eventually check the TV world, whereupon they would find an entire dungeon and see yu’s shadow for the first time.

- the dungeon, I think, would have a lot of different elements - recurring rooms from dojima’s house to represent the time loop he was trapped in, an origami version of inaba to represent how everything seems fake, etc.

- as for his shadow, since I love to go full angst, I think it would be absolutely vicious. it represents the nagging belief that everything’s fake, his hatred toward himself for “abandoning” his friends and living a happy lie, and his hatred toward the IT for being illusions meant to replace his dead friends

- as a result, it would try to kill yu almost immediately after manifesting and attack the IT on sight. this would be particularly devastating for yosuke - he only found out that saki hated him (x to doubt, I’m still not convinced she actually didn’t like him but that’s another post) through her shadow, so being immediately attacked by yu’s shadow would be heartbreaking

- yu’s shadow wouldn’t feel any need to explain itself to an illusion, so it would just silently and violently attack him with a look of pure hatred. which would be a confirmation of his worst fear, that yu secretly doesn’t think of him as a partner or an equal, and in fact doesn’t even think of him as a friend.

- but of course he would soldier on, determined to save yu even in light of his “true” feelings. the rest of the IT would also bring up the fact that they don’t know the full story yet, and there could be a reasonable explanation for why yu’s shadow is so violent

- since I love to make my favorite characters suffer, I also like to headcanon that eventually yu would let his shadow kill him. or at least almost kill him, since the IT busts down the door before it’s too late, but at that point he’s unconscious and in no shape to accept or reject his shadow

- (he didn’t accept it before even though he knew he should because he didn’t want to accept his violent urges toward himself and especially toward his friends)

- so basically the IT just has to grab yu and run. I was thinking this headcanon through and my brain was like ‘why not throw in some extra souyo angst,’ so a barely conscious yu might pull a reverse uno card on yosuke and sacrifice himself to protect him, unwilling to let his friend sacrifice himself again

- which would ofc make things even worse for yosuke. aside from the obvious, there’s the confusion arising from the fact that yu’s shadow tried to kill him, but yu himself was willing to sacrifice his life for him

- either way, I think yu would be barely alive by the time they make it out of the TV world. from there it’s just a matter of him recuperating enough to go back in and accept his shadow, which is complicated by the fact that essentially being split in half across two dimensions is definitely not healthy.

- there’s plenty of angst in the recovery process, but this post is already super long and I wanna get into some of my other thoughts

- just a quick aside, I think as a perhaps less angsty headcanon yu might just be extra averse to yosuke sacrificing himself after they win against izanami, especially in the animated version where I think only yosuke sacrifices himself instead of all of their friends

- so the next time yosuke tries to sacrifice himself for yu he’d get an earful, maybe even accompanied by a breakdown where yosuke realizes how badly he scared his partner during the fight with izanami

- anyway, I also have a fun night in the woods-type idea relating to this - after yu leaves inaba, nothing seems real to him to the point that it actively breaks down his mental health

- it’s only when he returns to inaba or is with someone from inaba that the world doesn’t just look like a grayscale mesh of unsubstantial shapes

- which could lead to something interesting if yosuke (or your yu narukami pairing of choice) comes to visit him at his college dorm and finds it an absolute mess or barely decorated at all with a depressed yu inside, or if yu drops out of college entirely to return to inaba, baffling his friends and family because he was at a really good college and had a great future ahead of him, or if he returns to inaba and is terrified to find that sometimes it’s in grayscale too, or-

- the point is I’ve thought a lot about this and I love both persona 4 and night in the woods so I think it’s fun

- there’s also plenty of potential for yu to just break down and tell his friends what’s wrong in the real world before he leaves inaba, which could make for a great hurt/comfort oneshot

- all in all, I think yu would have definitely been traumatized by living in a time loop for who knows how long and there’s a lot of potential there. (don’t ask me about what I think would happen if margaret hadn’t gotten him out of the time loop cause that’s an even longer even darker post. or maybe do ask me)

anyway, I know the souyo fandom probably still isn’t exactly popping off but I hope anyone who finds this post enjoys it!

[nade2308]

43 ‘bleeding out’ for Mac, please! 😃

A/N: I finally got around to finish writing this, hope you like it.

Mac was enjoying the light breeze that was caressing his face. After going non-stop on missions for the last few weeks, and the temperatures in the city rising, it was a welcome reprieve to retreat to the mountains for a week off. That, and Mac had some ulterior motives for it, that he planned on talking about with Jack, but that could wait. It was the best he'd seen his partner look since Jack returned from the Kovacs mission and Mac was loath to ruin that. But as they approached the end of their week camping, just the two of them, Mac knew that he had to broach the subject sooner rather than later.

The thing in question that had Mac ask Matty for a week off to recharge and recuperate was a hostage situation that turned from bad to worse so fast that Mac was still reeling. But how Mac felt about it wasn't the issue, it was how Jack handled it (or rather didn't handle it) that was scaring Mac. So Mac decided to take matters into his own hands. And here they were. In the mountains, having a week off, camping. Just the two of them and the mountain air and the ground serving as a bed and pillow. So far things were going great. And Mac was happy to spend some quality time alone with Jack.

Jack wasn't okay, not by a long shot, and judging by how fast Jack was thrown back into the spy world after the Kovacs mission, Mac wasn't surprised. He was surprised that it didn't happen sooner. And he wasn't going to fault Matty and Russ about that, but seeing as they needed Jack to come and save the day, they saw the bigger picture and not the little details.

They weren't aware, at least actively, that Jack was having some hard time adjusting to being back, and although Mac noticed that, it took him a while to discover the source of why Jack was feeling like a fish out of water. Mac's best bet was that Jack was feeling guilty for spending almost two years on the Kovacs hunt and then he just… simply shut down. It was Jack who came back, but not all of him was quite there, yet, and that's where Mac struggled the most with.

Jack was quiet next to him as they walked down one of the trails. He seemed lost in thought and once again Mac was reminded of the reason why he asked Matty to give them the week off. He needed to talk with Jack, so they could work things out. Mac had a suspicion that this ran deeper than just the Kovacs mission. And now with their most recent mission going sideways… it was just a matter of time when it'd all blow up.

Mac was following Jack when his leg suddenly slipped on a wet log on the ground and Mac's breath escaped in a whoosh as he fell on his back and something snapped underneath him.

At first he thought he broke something, but the pain came a moment later and Mac screamed. It was one of those surprised, unbidden screams. But the pain was unbearable and he couldn't stop screaming. He couldn't see what it was.

Jack came to his aid immediately, screeching to a halt in front of Mac.

"Oh, no, no, no."

"J… Jack?"

"Hoss, I need you to calm down."

"W-why?"

"You have a bear trap closed in around your calf."

"B-bear what?"

Mac was getting confused fast and realized that something warm and sticky was running down his leg, probably blood. But he couldn't think about it too much, he had to make sure that Jack didn't freak out. Which seemed to have taken place because Jack was still standing over him, unable to move.

The pain was getting harder to ignore.

"Jack, can you get it out?" Mac breathed out through clenched teeth, and it was taking a great effort to talk.

"Um… I am not sure I should do that, Mac."

"We need to move somewhere where you can patch me up. We are… not safe."

It looked like the comment in combination with Mac bleeding out was enough to convince Jack. He pulled the first aid kid they always took with them, and opened it, disinfecting his hands, and then set on pulling the trap away from Mac's leg.

Mac knew that it was probably wrong. But he was willing to take his chances, rather than have the teeth of the trap dig in further in the flesh of his leg.

In hindsight, the snap Mac heard was probably the bear trap.

Mac bit on his hand to prevent a loud scream when the trap unlocked and Jack had to maneuver his leg out of it. Tears sprung to his eyes from the pain he was in, but he refused to let them out. He had to hold on. Just for a little longer.

"Oh, God, no."

Mac was aware of Jack moving around and then something was putting pressure on his leg. He realized too late that maybe pulling the trap off of his leg wasn't the best course of action. Because he started bleeding faster than before, and the gauze Jack used to staunch the bleeding was rapidly soaking blood and doing nothing to stop the bleeding.

Mac wasn't above trying to clot his wounds with black pepper or gunpowder, but they had neither on them right now… well Jack was probably carrying a gun, or two. It was worth a shot.

"Jack, you'll have to cauterize the wounds until we can…" Mac trailed off and forgot what he was gonna say. There was so much blood…

"I can't… Mac, I don't want to hurt you further. You know how bad it can get if you get an infection on top of everything."

Mac looked between Jack and his rapidly bleeding leg. He was scared he was going to bleed out before Jack could help patch him up or get him to a hospital, but on the other hand he was hurting a lot and probably wasn't for the best to make decisions while he didn't have his head in the game.

"Bud? Mac?"

Mac realized he spaced out and Jack was frantically yelling his name.

"What are we gonna do, Jack?"

"It's not much, but I can wrap your leg and carry you to the Jeep. Then drive to the nearest hospital, I suppose."

There was something about the way Jack handled the situation, but Mac couldn't put his finger on it.

Thankfully, he didn't have to think too much, and let Jack take over. Jack was always wired to help and be of assistance, and seeing as Mac couldn't do anything, but kept trying to stay awake, Mac appreciated Jack's alertness. Even though the delivery was cold somehow.

…

Jack was staring in front of him, eyes unseeing beyond the white and green of the tile in the hospital. The drive was a blur, once he got in the Jeep and called Matty to tell her about what happened and request help in settling things with the hospital; he was done with thinking.

There was so much blood. On Mac, in the car, on Jack, on Jack's hands. Honestly, Jack had no idea how to deal with this. He was aware that he was headed towards a spiral, but he had no idea how to solve that. Mac was the one who usually helped Jack when he was getting towards the darker holes in his soul, but Mac wasn't there with him now. And Jack wasn't sure Mac would want to be around him anymore. Ever since Jack returned back from the Kovacs mission, things were strained. It felt like Jack was trying to fit back in, somewhere he once fit seamlessly. But lately, the pieces with jagged edges refused to get smoothed out.

Jack tried to explain it with the way things happened a couple of years ago. The hush-hush of the Kovacs mission, the way he shook Mac's hand instead of hugging him. Telling Mac that he was just a good friend. It was all just a way for him to distance himself from how he was really feeling, how his heart was split in a thousand little pieces. How breaking the kid's heart and most of all breaking his promise, was the hardest thing Jack had to do in his life so far.

It was that and the subsequent mission as well as the time he was absent from their lives that brought Jack back to that person he was in the Sandbox before him and Mac were paired up. It was someone Jack wasn't happy to see reappearing.

Mac was the one that pulled him out of that state of despair almost ten years ago. And Jack wasn't sure that Mac would want to extend him the courtesy again. Because Jack left. He broke his promise. Why would Mac want to help him again, right?

Mac shouldn't be even close to Jack now. Jack was danger. The first moment alone with each other and Mac got caught in a bear trap. It was all Jack's fault. He was the one who screwed things up. He should have never returned. Just brought them more pain.

And he got people killed, the hostage negotiation from a week ago flashing in his mind. He was a killing machine, there was a reason why the Army kept him as long as they did. He was the best of the best for a long time. Give him a rifle and a target and then set him off into the wild.

Mac changed that.

Mac.

Whose blood Jack had on his hands.

…

Several more hours of waiting and a silent breakdown later, a doctor came out to the waiting room, relaying to Jack that Mac was going to be okay and that he was going to recover. As expected, he lost a lot of blood, but he was expected to make full recovery.

That made Jack feel a bit better, although he still felt guilty for going with Mac's plea to remove the trap from his leg. Jack could still hear the sharp click as the metal embedded itself into Mac's skin, the sick squelch sound it made when Jack pulled it off, the smell of blood, the iron from the blood mixing with the rust on the bear trap.

It was everything he could do to force himself to make the short trip to the bathroom where he threw up. After he was done, Jack washed himself thoroughly, making sure he scrubbed his skin until there was not a speck of dried blood or vomit and his hands and arms were pink.

And okay, he might have scratched harder and left some bloody trail of his own.

The doctor was gone when Jack returned from the bathroom, and he had no idea where to look for him. Jack forgot to ask if Mac was transferred to a room or not…

There was a nurse that appeared to his side and asked if he was Jack, telling him that the handsome blond in room 305 was asking for him. Jack went with her, because as much as he wanted to stop giving the kid grief, he would never deny him anything.

…

Mac could tell that he was on the good stuff because he didn't feel anything other than the floaty feeling which meant the painkillers were doing their thing. Otherwise, Mac was sure that he would be screaming in pain.

He was disappointed to see that Jack wasn't in the room when he woke up, but Mac knew that Jack was probably sulking off somewhere, trying to tell himself what he did wrong. And Mac didn't want that. Asking one of the nurses if she could find Jack and describing Jack the best he could, Mac hoped she could track him down.

(And okay, Mac might have been a bit loopy and waxed poetic about how amazing his partner was, but if asked Mac would say it was the drugs).

When the nurse returned with Jack in tow, something in Mac settled, but he could tell that Jack was having a hard time so he mustered up some strength to stay awake and talk to Jack.

Mac knew that he shouldn't have waited so long to talk to Jack, but what happened with the bear trap earlier put things into perspective. He knew that if he was to repair whatever ended up broken between him and Jack, he had to attack things head on.

"Jack."

"Hey, Mac. I am glad you are awake. You scared me, buddy."

"I think I scared myself. I'm so sorry about this."

"Why are you sorry for? It's not like you put the trap there yourself."

"I tripped. God, I'm a grade A klutz."

"That you are."

Mac could detect a hint of a smile in Jack's words, but he could tell it didn't reach Jack's eyes. His partner and best friend was still locked somewhere in that bad space where he was when Mac met him back in 2011.

"Listen, Jack, I want to talk to you about something."

Jack exhaled and Mac watched as Jack clenched and unclenched his hands in fists in his lap. He wanted Jack to hold his hand as always, but he also recognized why Jack was holding himself back.

"If you want to tell me that it's not my fault, save your breath, I know that it is, so…"

"Actually, it's not about that. But you are right about that one. It's not your fault. I begged you to remove the trap, and in hindsight I knew I shouldn't have, but it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"You… you were bleeding so much. I couldn't help you. I couldn't stop it. I did this."

"How? Let me reiterate what you said earlier. You didn't put that trap there, Jack. You couldn't have known. And I asked you to remove it. Okay?"

Another sigh.

"Yeah, okay."

Mac wasn't entirely convinced that Jack believed him, but he couldn't think much about it right now. He wanted to talk to Jack about something else.

"What was that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"About what happened a week ago."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should."

"Mac, don't."

"Look, Jack, it's obviously bothering you. And something tells me this is not recent."

"Mac, please… I don't want to talk about it."

"It hurts. It hurts seeing you like this, Jack. I can't watch you destroy yourself systematically and blaming yourself for everything that happens. That's indeed who you are, you carry guilt the size of Texas in you, but this needs to stop."

The moment Mac saw anger and hurt flash on Jack's face before he schooled his features, he hated himself a little bit for using the way he felt to make Jack realize just how far he was gone in that dark hole again.

Just because this time Jack was functioning normally, or as normal as possible, it didn't mean Mac was blind to his partner obviously being depressed and maybe hating himself in the process.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need an apology, Jack. I just need you to understand that just because you were absent for two years, it doesn't mean that you stopped being important to me and the others. We are family. And obviously something is bothering you. I want to know what it is. I want to help you, Jack."

"It's not on you, Mac. I can deal with it on my own. There's no need-"

"Oh, so my problems are your problems, but your problems are what? Chopped liver?"

"Kid, don't."

"Don't what? You are spiraling, Jack! You are so far gone, you can't even look me in the eye and I can tell that you are hurting. Talk to me, big guy. Please."

Mac could tell that he hit a nerve because Jack immediately looked up. The storm brewing behind Jack's brown eyes was about to start. And the worst of it was that Mac didn't know what to expect from Jack when it hit.

"You want to know why the hostage negotiation hit me so hard? Because that's how… that's how we got Kovacs. That's how I killed him. One cold and calculated killshot. Is that what you wanted to hear, Mac? Does that make you feel better?"

"No. But that's the most I've heard you talk about since you returned so I'm counting it as a win."

"When I accepted to lead the taskforce on getting Kovacs, I did it to protect you. I inadvertently hurt you and that's something I'll never forgive myself for. That and calling you just a good friend. You are so much more than that to me, Mac. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me one day."

"I forgave you a long time ago, Jack. And I know why you went. I read the report. I know my dad was behind it. And I know that you think you should punish yourself for it. But you shouldn't."

"I left you, kid. I promised I wouldn't and then I did. What does that make me if not a traitor? I don't deserve you."

"Hey, hey, now, stop."

Mac made an effort to move his hand and take one of Jack's and hold on.

"Jack. Did it hurt that you left? Yes. But I know why and I don't blame you. I would do it too, if I was put in such a position."

"I didn't… I went back to my old self, Mac. I became the ruthless killer the Agency and the Army needed at their disposal. And the way I shot that guy holding the kids hostages, my hand didn't even shake or move an inch. It was the steadiest I've ever hit anyone since… Kovacs."

"You are not ruthless, Jack. You never were."

"I'm not so sure about that, hoss. I didn't feel anything. When I pulled the trigger, I didn't feel anything. And that scared me more than I'm willing to admit. That's why I'm acting like this. I am dangerous. And I don't want to hurt you in the process. More than I already have, anyway."

"You are not dangerous, Jack. You are just you. And that thing you are feeling… that's part of you. You know, there was a wise man that once told me that darkness was part of us as well and that we need to embrace it in order to live with ourselves easier. And I don't know about you, but I have taken that advice to heart."

"I did say that to you now, didn't I?"

"It's time for you to take your own advice to heart, Jack. I won't throw you away just because there's a little bit of darkness in you. We both have done things we are not proud of, but we learned to live with it. And I know it's been a while since you had to do it, but I'm going to help you with reminding you how to do it. Okay?"

"Okay."

This time Jack's words sounded more convincing and Mac let himself smile. They just took the first step together.

"And Jack? It's okay to let us take care of you every once in a while. You need a break, too."

"Tell me about it."

As if on cue, they both yawned and burst into giggles. Suddenly Mac got an idea and he knew that it was impossible to make it work, he wanted Jack close.

"Come on, come here." He started tugging on Jack's hand.

"What? Where?"

To make his point clear, Mac made an effort to move on the bed.

"Hoss, you can't just ask me to take from your space, hold on, hey, stop it."

There was a thought that Mac filed for later, how easy it was to pull Jack into the bed while he was injured and on painkillers.

"We shouldn't be doing this, kid. You are injured."

"I know that, Jack. But I need you to get some rest too. And you never will until someone makes you, so I'm doing it. Now, hold me."

"So bossy." But Jack obliged and Mac felt himself truly relax in Jack's hold.

"Are we going to be okay, Mac?" Jack suddenly asked and he felt more than he heard Jack sigh.

"Yes, we are. I got you, Jack. You know, you watch my back and I watch yours. It still stands."

"Thank you, kiddo."

"Don't mention it."

[evilluciferisevil]

Remus Lupin nsfw alphabet.

Requested : Yes / no

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Remus is very affectionate and wants to hold you as long as he can. He’ll most likely tell you how good you did while stroking your hair.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

To be honest, as we know, Remus hates his body. But if he were to choose, it would be his hands, seeing how big they are compared to yours. 

His favorite body part of yours is simply your head. The lovely faces you make at him, sticking your tongue out, how you can show affection by just your eyes.  The brilliant ideas you have, the way your hair falls on your eyes...

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

In my opinion, Remus absolutely hates seeing cum on you, except during his furry time. So, three weeks of the month, he will cum inside of you, when the last week he absolutely makes you filthy. Although he will never admit it, the picture of his cum covering your thighs is something that will always and forever make him hard. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

We can all agree he loves the idea of Sirius joining you two in bed. 

Another dirty secret of theirs is the fact he would absolutely take you anywhere at any time. So, that being told, one of his dreams is to burst into your classroom in the middle of the lesson, tell everyone to leave, and take you on your table. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Remus hadn’t had too much practice in nature, but he has read a ton of books, knowing what he is doing. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy and riding. He loves to have control over you, pull your hair and bang you from behind, but he also loves you taking control of your own pleasure, seeing your face. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Both. Remus can get goofy but prefers to jeep things just “Lovemaking” as he so nicely puts it. 

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Remus is well-groomed, keeps things nice and neat. The carpets don’t match the drapes. The carpets are a shade darker. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

As I’ve mentioned, he likes to be romantic, calling it lovemaking and all. He loves to whisper how much he loves you in your ear, as much as he loves seeing you feel every ounce of love he has to offer for you.

But then there’s the jealous, possessive and wolfy side. He just loves to fuck you, making you know who you belong to. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Remus loves to Jack Off. In his youth, he rarely got any,,, pussy,,, so he got used to it. The excitement he gets when jacking off, thinking you’ll see him… That gives him a new level of boost. Though he is very private about it, sometimes even making it his first choice, due to being too afraid to ask you help. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Lemme tell you children, I had a dream Remus had a mommy kink and -YES. Along with a breeding kink.

“Let mommy show how much she cares about you” 

“You take my cum so good, baby…”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Your bedroom is the best. He likes to explore, so you have fucked through your whole house. Rarely outside your apartment though. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do. He gets turned on by the thought of you. Especially when you’re focusing on something, doing your hair in an updo, applying makeup, and changing clothing. One of the things is also just taking a look at your bottom or chest. Remus is a very horny man.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Making you feel pain, any toilet play, or something that could make you sad/uncomfortable. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Ok, Remus does love to go down on you, but even more so, he loves seeing you go down on him. He would change a whole chocolate bar to see you suck his dick.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Can get rough around the full moon, but usually sensual, whether it is rough or not. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t like them too much. He needs to make sure you get the pleasure you deserve. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Remus doesn’t like to take too many risks, but if you manage to pull out the wolf side, he is down for anything.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Remus can last for quite some time, but he needs to take breathers every so often.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Remus didn’t have any toys before you, but with you came the toys. He especially enjoys the ones he can use on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Remus is quite the tease. But if he sees you feel uncomfortable in the situation, he immediately stops and apologizes. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Remus hates the fact he moans, grunts, and even howls a little.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

“I can’t believe I found a woman who cooks as well as she fucks.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Remus is huge. He is thick and long. It was really hard adjusting to it first, but you managed. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Remus is horny 24/7 but you two fuck about every 2 or 3 days. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t really like to sleep afterward. He’s a gentleman, and waits for you to sleep. When wolf time is around, he might fall asleep easily though.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

A Piece of You 10

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Former Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Torture, mentally breaking someone. 

Author’s Note: I can’t believe this is over now! Thank you to everyone who stuck around through the sketchy updates with this series. I appreciate all the feedback that has been left and eventually in the future (You’ll see why) I’ll come back and give an update on this one. It really is a bitter sweet moment to end a series. I hope you guys enjoy!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

It wasn’t long before the morning light began to shine through Y/N’s family home. While old, it still stood perfectly as the day her great grandparents bought it, thanks to some help of magic. Y/N walked through the halls, taking in photos she hadn’t seen in several years. The darkness that clouded each one made her heart hurt. She was glad they had been able to save Henrik from having an Awakening.

Where she once wanted this place to be her home for the family she would have, Y/N no longer could see it that way. It was a place that held darker memories of the world she didn’t want her son to grow up in. And after today, she’d watch it burn once she was done using the old basement.

Out of all the places Y/N could have taken Hayley, her darker side reminded her that her parents had magically sealed basement. Her parents used the basement for training sessions with black magic. Y/N remembered hating those trainings. But because she had Awakened, the magic within her called to her, and she gave into them.

As she entered the basement, her eyes immediately landed on Hayley. Y/N had her bound and sealed within a circle. The circle taking away any strength the hybrid had within her. A hint of a smirk pulled at her lips at hearing Hayley stir.

“She’s awake.” Y/N said as she stepped closer to the circle. “For a Hybrid it sure does take you quite sometime to come back from the dead.”

The more Hayley gained consciousness, the more Y/N couldn’t wait to get things started. From the moment Y/N had snapped her fingers in the ruins, she’d been waiting for this. There was so many things she wished to convey to Hayley the moment she could. The darkness within her like a devil on her shoulder egging her on.

Hayley took in her surroundings and began to struggle against the binds that held her down to the chair. Her eyes landed on Y/N and shook her head. “You don’t have to do this.”

For the most part, Y/N looked normal to Hayley. The only difference was the black veins that had taken residency on her skin. While faded in comparison to last night, Hayley hoped that Y/N had calmed down since then.

In Hayley’s mind, she thought she could talk it over with the woman standing before her. While Hayley would have done the same thing if the situation was reversed, talking Y/N out of the mess she was in was her only option. She could feel the way the magic that surrounded her kept her in her seat, preventing her from being free the moment she woke.

Y/N saw the fire in Hayley’s eyes just as she had so many times they had worked together before things changed. That fire is what Y/N intended to put out. If it wasn’t for Hayley, there were plenty of things that would have gone differently and Y/N wanted to make that crystal clear.

“I don’t have to.” Y/N said with a shrug of her shoulders. “But then I wouldn’t be keeping the promise I made to my son, or me. Backing out now while we are just moments from starting seems like a complete waste of time. And I’d rather not waste it.”

“Hope is coming today.” Hayley said hoping that will register something within Y/N. “When she gets here and see that I’m no where to be found, she’ll come looking. I want to be there when she comes to visit.”

Y/N scoffed. “And I’d love to be enjoying my son’s birthday breakfast right now.” Her eyes flickered from Y/E/C to black as she stepped within the circle. “It’s because of you that I don’t get that chance. Hell, it’s because of you that a lot of things happened and I’ve been so looking forward to doing this.”

“Think of Henrik.” Hayley said as she watched Y/N approach. “Whatever it is that you are planning will only make it so you can’t see your son for longer.”

Anger coursed through Y/N prompting her to slap Hayley across the face. “I plan on seeing my son today. I found a way out of my mess. But you,” She chuckled as she began to circle around Hayley. “You just keep digging yourself a bigger hole to lie in. So many things could have been avoided if you had just left things alone.”

“If you are going to kill me, you might as well get it over with.” Hayley said as she watched Y/N circle around the chair.

Y/N chuckled as she came to a stop right behind Hayley. “Killing you would be too easy. As much as every fiber is telling me to take the life out of you, there is something else you are deserving of.” Y/N placed her hands on Hayley’s head. “It’s going to be torment from the inside out.”

Hayley attempted to move her head out of Y/N’s grasp. But no matter how many times she tried, Y/N’s tightened on her head. A spell passed the witch’s lips as she held onto Hayley’s head. The moment Y/N heard Hayley’s gasp, she removed her hands, a devilish smirk pulling at her lips.

_____

The mouth watering aroma of Henrik’s breakfast that awaited him downstairs had finally reached Henrik as he slept in Elijah’s room. The smell caused Henrik’s stomach to growl, waking him from a peaceful sleep. Getting up out of the bed, he slowly made his way out of the room.

After everyone had come back the compound the night before, the Mikaelsons had celebrated with Henrik. Even in the late hours of the night they sat around with each other, even after Henrik had fallen asleep right next to Elijah. Not wanting Henrik to possibly wake up alone in his room, he opted for taking Henrik to his.

Even after Elijah had put Henrik to bed, the adults spent time thinking of something special to do for Henrik. Y/N and Elijah had spoken about a large breakfast for Henrik. They discussed making Henrik’s birthday the most memorable. But now, things were different with Y/N not being able to be with them. Elijah still had every intention of making sure that until Y/N could come and see him, it would be the best birthday for Henrik.

As Henrik came down the stairs, Elijah walked out of the dinning room, expecting to go and wake his son. A smile pulled at Elijah’s lips as he watched him. “I was just about to wake you.”

“I smell my breakfast!” Henrik said as he picked up his pace a bit. The moment he reached ground level, he walked over to Elijah. “Is momma here?”

Elijah’s face fell at his son’s words and shook his head. “Not yet. But like she promised, she left you something.” Elijah tilted his head towards the dining room.

Excited for his mother’s gift, Henrik ran into the dinning room. He found a box wrapped in green paper with a gold bow sitting on top of it sitting on the table, right next the enormous pile of food. His eyes went wide at the display in front of him.

“Is this all for me?” Henrik asked as he heard Elijah walk in behind him.

Elijah chuckled. “While it is for your birthday, there are several others that will be joining us. Your cousin Hope will be joining us shortly. She just needed to stop by her mother’s house.”

Henrik’s face fell at that. He wanted to see his own mother. He wanted her to be here with him instead of her being elsewhere.  And while he had nothing against Hope, there was the fact that Hayley had taken him and handed him over to his cousin. He didn’t like that Hayley got to spend time with her daughter.

“Dad!” Hope’s voice carried in through the doors.

At the sound of her voice, both Henrik and Elijah walked back out into the courtyard. As they did, they found Hope and Jackson standing in the courtyard. Hope saw them, her eyes worried.

“Have you seen mom?” She asked Elijah.

Elijah shook his head. “No. I haven’t. I had expected her to be at home after last nights incident.” His voice didn’t hold back the venom.

“What happened last night?” Jackson asked.

“Hayley made a deal with Y/n’s cousin. In the process she kidnapped Henrik and handed him over.” Klaus said as he entered the room. “She had been warned to stay away from Henrik but seeing as we went through last night’s events your mother didn’t listen.”

Jackson sighed and shook his head. “I tried to convince her not to let that witch get to her head.”

“What witch?” Hope asked as she looked over at her stepdad. “Why would mom put a child in harm like that?”

“I was hoping she’d provide those answers once she comes out of hiding.” Elijah knew that Hayley would want to stay out of their way for now. Even with Henrik safe as he was, things weren’t about to change because of that. Elijah wanted answers, and he was going to get them the first chance he got.

The whole time the others spoke, Henrik listened to them. As he listened, he remembered right before his mom came into the ruins. “She didn’t leave before momma’s spell went up.”

The others stopped their conversation and looked to the boy. “What was that?” Elijah asked.

“Hayley was in the barrier momma put up.” He said as he looked up at them.

Elijah racked his brain thinking of any moment that he may have seen Hayley last night. But his main focus had been Henrik and Y/N. He couldn’t be sure if she had gotten out at some point.

“The barrier was up until we left.” Elijah shook his head. “She must have left after we had.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Jackson asked. “If she had found Hayley-”

“She wouldn’t.” Elijah said cutting him off. “She wouldn’t risk making things worse to prevent her from seeing Henrik. I’ll call Y/N and see if she has seen Hayley.”

“Uncle Elijah,” Hope said looking over at him. “Would she hurt mom for what she did?”

Elijah looked over at his niece. He could see the worry in her eyes, and he didn’t know how to answer her. “Y/N let in the darkness to ensure Henrik’s safety last night. She mentioned going to the hotel to cleanse herself in order to be here for Henrik. I don’t believe she would go after your mother. She’d wait until your mom showed up.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Hope said with a nod.

____

Hayley’s cries of pain echoed through the basement as Y/N stood at a table off to the side. The spell Y/N cast over Hayley would ensure Hayley would be tormented the way she liked. Every memory that had to do with Henrik had been twisted to ensure Hayley would stay away from her son. Every memory that envolved Y/N on the other hand, she twisted them to make the woman fear her.

Y/N didn’t physically have to lay a hand on her after the spell. It made it easier for her to get ready for the cleansing spell she was about to do. The part of Y/N that wasn’t clouded in darkness wouldn’t have gone through with this after her cleansing.

“I get it!” Hayley cried. “I hurt you in so many ways, for that I’m sorry. Please just make this stop.”

Y/N ignored her cries as she mixed ingredients within a wooden bowl. “Once it’s started, it won’t stop until its fulfilled its purpose.” Y/N said as she continued to add things into the bowl. “It’s interesting on the thing you’ll say now when this could have all been prevented.” Y/N looked over her shoulder at Hayley. “While I can’t entirely blame you for the affair with Elijah, there is so much more that I hope this spell sets into your mind how wrong you were. My son could have had a life with his father if you hadn’t thrown out the letters.”

Turning back towards the bowl as another pained cry left Hayley, Y/N waved her hand above the mixture, a small spell leaving her lips. The mixture in the bowl changed from dry indigents to a liquid. Lifting the bowl up to her lips, Y/N drank the liquid. A disgusted look formed at her face as she drank it. The one things about some spells, they never taste great.

A moment later, Y/N’s eyes shot to black on their own. Her hand grabbed for the glass orb that had been on the table, bringing it between both of her hands. With the help of another spell, the darkness that had been within Y/N began seeping into the orb.

Her body fought the darkness leaving her. A clensing spell such as this one had never been done on someone that had gone through an awakening. The longer she held on to the orb, the more pain radiated through her body as it fought to keep the darkness there. A gasp left her lips as she finally felt a release from it.

Her hands dropped the orb on the table as she grabbed a hold of it to keep her steady. She pulled the very thing out of her that would have destroyed her family. The very thing that had kept her from spending some time with Henrik this morning. And if this worked, she’d be able to see him in a bit.

As she regained her strength, she noticed she hadn’t heard Hayley anymore. Turning to face her, Y/N could see that Hayley’s head was hanging. The slight whimpers that came from the woman reached Y/N’s ears. The spell had come to an end. All the damage done.

Walking over to the circle, Y/N broke it. The moment she had, Hayley was up and out of her seat. Grabbing Y/N by her throat she had her pinned against the wall. It had caused Y/N to chuckle.

“I should kill you.” Hayley said as she bared her fangs.

“Go ahead.” Y/N said keeping her eyes on Hayley’s. “They’ll see you killed me. But they’d never know I got to you first. And that would be the last straw for your mind before it shatters. So I’d be careful. Call it a safety measure on my end.”

That fire Y/N had seen in Hayley’s eyes earlier had been dimmed in comparison. It was barely lit and Y/N could easily snuff it out the moment Hayley moved against her. One simple disapproval from the Mikaelsons would break Hayley in the very way that Y/N wanted her to be.

Y/N could see Hayley thinking it over before letting her go. Without so much as another word between them, Hayley was gone in ablink of an eye. It letting out a sigh of relief, as long as Hayley kept her distance, this was finally over.

_____

The sound of someone knocking on the door had caught Y/N suprise as she grabbed her things to leave. Placing her bag down on the sheet covered couch, Y/N went to answer the door. Seeing Elijah on the other side of it had surprised her even more.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “Is Henrik okay?”

Elijah nodded his head. “Henrik’s fine. I actually came for another reason.”

“What other reason is there for leaving our son on his birthday?” Y/N questioned.

“For one, you never checked into Hotel.” There was a look of concern on his face for only a moment. “I figured this would have been the second place you would have been. Secondly, Hope and Jackson were wondering why Hayley hadn’t come home last night.”

Y/N scoffed. “Hayley left about a half hour ago. I think it's safe to say that we worked out our issues with each other.”

“If there as so much as a scratch-”

“You’re still defending her?” Y/N said cutting him off. “After everything, you still want to protect her? Do you really care for her that much, Elijah?”

Elijah looked away from Y/N for only a second before looking back at her. “If Hope were to see her mother harmed in any way, she wouldn’t take kindly to you.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “Hayley doesn’t have a scratch on her. Now I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Elijah’s eyes widened in shock at her words. “Y/N-”

“Don’t, Elijah.” Y/N began. “Its pretty clear from my side where things lie. I’ll be over to spend the rest of the day with Henrik for his birthday, and then I’ll bring him home here.”

“Here?” Elijah questioned. “In the very place you swore you’d never raise your child?”

A huff passed her lips. “It has been cleansed. I was thinking about burning it. But then I realized Henrik and I wouldn’t have a place to stay. Given my feelings about recent events, I can’t stay at the compound.”

“You don’t have to leave.” Elijah shook his head.

“I do have to. Henrik needs both of his parents to be civil with each other. Staying in the compound will change that.” She said with a nod of her head.

Elijah nodded his head in understanding. “We’ll be waiting. Henrik has yet to open your gift, he’s been waiting for you to come and watch him open it.”

“I’ll be there soon.” She promised.  Without another word from Elijah, he was gone.

Laughter filled the courtyard from the adults who had been talking and entertaining Henrik. He was growing anxious over his mother’s arrival. They all hoped that Henrik would be able to spend the rest of his birthday with his mother present. But it all fell on Henrik if that was allowed or not.

Henrik had been opening a few of the gifts his family had gave him. He had been half way through unwrapping a gift from Klaus when he stopped. His eyes went wide as he tossed the gift to the side of him and got out of his seat.

The adults were confused as he had done so until they looked in the direction Henrik had been running to. Standing just past the doorway was Y/N. There was a smile on her face as she saw Henrik light up at seeing here.

“Momma!” He called out as ran over to her. Y/N crouched down and opened her arms for him. The moment he was in her arms, Y/N hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

“Happy birthday, my sweet boy.” She said softly as she ran her hand up his back. Relief washed through her the longer she held on to him. Her cleansing spell had worked.

“Your good momma.” Henrik said as he held on to her tightly causing a small sob to pass Y/n’s lips as she teared up.

“No more darkness.” She promised.

The words had brought a smile to Henrik’s face. He wasn’t going to leave her side anytime soon. His comfort has always been Y/N and the comfort he felt in her arms was all he needed.

As they held on to each other, Y/N’s eyes looked to the others. There were smiles on their faces as they watched the interaction between the two. There was no greater bond than that of a mother and son like these two.

Kissing the side of Henrik’s head, Y/N patted his back. “You should go finish opening your gifts.” She said as she pulled away from the hug. “And then we can talk about staying in New Orleans.”

“We’re staying?!” The excitement in his voice as he looked at his mother had caused Y/N to smile.

She brushed a few strands of hair out of his face with her fingers. “We’re staying. I cleansed the old family home. And as long as it feels okay to you, we’ll stay there.”

Henrik’s face fell at that. “Not here with dad?”

Y/N’s eyes shifted from Henrik to Elijah and back before sighing. “I can’t stay here, my love. But I’m sure your dad would agree that you’d be welcome to stay here any time you’d like.”

Elijah walked over to them and crouched down beside Y/N. “Your mother is right. You will be welcome to stay here any time you’d like. Between us though,” He looked over at Y/N. “We believe it will be better for the three of us, if your mom and I live in different homes.”

“We’re right down the street.” Y/N assured Henrik. “I will never keep you from coming over and seeing your dad.” She promised as she ran her hand along his cheek. “We’ll make it through this.”

“Okay.” Henrik said with a nod of his head. While he prefered if both of his parents stayed under the same roof while he got to know his dad, he understood that not all things could happen that way.

“Now lets go open presents.” Y/N said giving him a smile. At that, Henrik ran back to towards the couch he had been sitting in.

As she and Elijah stood, there was a part of her that believed this was wrong. “We are doing the right thing.” She said out loud. More to herself than to Elijah as a reassurance. “We are.” Elijah nodded as he grabbed a hold of her hand and squeezed it before letting it go. “As you said, we are right down the street from each other if he ever needs anything.” With that, Elijah began walking back over to the others.

A sigh of relief passed her lips as she began following Elijah. This was going to work. They’d make this work. Y/N couldn’t see her son growing up without the family that was currently surrounding him. And what ever dangers may lurk in the future, they’d be there to help each other out.

It was a new start. While it still held many complications, they’d get through them, as a family.

Back in the Y/L/N home, down in the basement, the glass orb was now sitting locked within a glass shelf. Sitting on a stand, the magic with in the orb moved erratically, searching for a way out, searching for a way back to its host. As it moved with in, a very small crack emerged along the glass. Indicating that the magic held with in it was way too strong to be contained.

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555 @hellotvshowtrash

Piece of you: @poemfreak306 @xxbeckybeexx-blog @sammykb1994 @misunderstood-shadows @shanty-lol @caelst13 @krazykatkay456 @qveenmikaelson @cleverzonkwombatsludge @coalsmind @precious-bands-love @ignorantly-apathatic @chiefdirector​  @yolobloggers @fading-mentality-bouquet @of-outerspace @cloudyskylines @httpglxssy @hybridgirl99 @scarletmeii @mrsrusso11 @fantasy-world-ocs @jemimah-b99 @lillekeneiiris​ @mikaelson-emma

Stag Tag:   @elejah-wonderland @xxsovereignsarayaxx @asiaaisa77 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @marvel-at-stucky

The Originals Tag: @zillahvathek @obsessedwithvampires @alien-sida

Bold Tags mean for some reason or another I couldn’t tag you in this. If you are on the A Piece of You Tag and would like to be added to another tag, please let me know! 

[lokidrabbles]

Heated Shelter

A stressed out Loki comes to seek comfort with reader. A/N: Next part for my Winter themed LokixReader stories! Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: Slight angst!

Months had passed since New Asgard was established on Earth, and while the Asgardians would continue to make necessary adjustments with Thor and the already citizens of Tønsberg, time was still much needed in order to fully assimilate into Midgardian culture.

Loki was especially having a difficult time, what with having both Thor and the Avengers breathing down his back 24/7, and the heavy boulder of burden he continued to carry as evidence for the horrors he caused and was involved in. Thor had much advocated for his brother and after a strenuous period of uncertainty, Loki was placed on a certain ‘community service’ watch, to much of Tony Stark’s dismay.

Of course, this meant Loki was chained down by Midgardian Laws, unable to travel across the stars as he much desired to. He was stuck here, having to deal with the crushing discomfort of having to acclimate to life with the same creatures he once long ago intended to destroy. Thor, while his intentions good, was much too preoccupied with his role as King and as an Avenger. He had offered Loki a chance to stand by him as his royal advisor but he declined, knowing full well the amount of controversy it would create.

Loki would at times travel back and between New York and New Asgard as a way to keep busy and not linger too much around places where he was still not fully welcomed. He had thought about traveling the rest of Midgard, expanding his knowledge as he did in his younger years, however, his motivation also dwindled with any hopes of redemption.

A period while staying in NYC once again threw him almost over the edge, when a confrontation between him and Stark escalated quickly. Loki, being smart enough to understand the blame would be placed on him immediately, allowed the Ironman to win the argument, only to be met with a reprimanding speech of his adjustment on Earth.

It was humiliating, and Loki sought out for an escape. He couldn’t go back to Thor, again, knowing his brother would not be much help in wanting to side against Stark again. He also couldn’t stay here any longer, as much as he had wished for a reconciliation with Earth’s mightiest. For now, there was only one single place he had in mind to ‘wind down’, just for one evening.

His hesitation took the better of him for a good minute as he stood frozen at your door. Cold winter winds passed through him, piercing his senses back to reality. A thought tugged at him, wanting to prevent himself from burdening you in the middle of the night. Sure, you had never turned him away as of yet but the possibility still stood. And he wasn’t in the right set of mind to withstand a rejection from you.

Nevertheless, what else would he do at this point? With much courage and pride, he rang your doorbell once, declaring to make a prompt leave if you wouldn’t answer the first one.

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking human, eyes squinting and adjusting to the brightness. Darn it.

“Loki?” You asked while rubbing your eyes. He noted your warm lounge wear, and the bird nest formed at the top of your head. Either you must have already been in deep slumber or were about to drift off if it were not for him.

“Pardon my intrusion. Ah, I disturbed you didn’t I?” Loki asked. His already fidgeting hands unconsciously came together, a small habit he had picked up from Frigga for when he was uncomfortable.

“I was about to fall asleep, but no! Don’t worry, uh, is everything ok?” You asked while patting your obvious bed head down.

No. But Loki couldn’t tell you about his troubles from earlier today, what would the purpose of that be? For the first time, his sharp tongue failed him as he struggled to find the right words to say without revealing too much.

“Well...I do recall, some time ago, you mentioned that I would be, uh...welcomed here whenever I would please to.”

Loki felt stupid, his pride diminishing even further. His eloquent speech had failed him this time, knowing you were too smart to buy into the half-orchestrated lie he wanted to throw at you. He continued to pick at his fingers, ready to bolt and forget the whole ordeal. Surprisingly however, a small smile formed upon your face.

“Sure, you can hang out here for a bit if you want.” You replied, gesturing him to follow you and come inside.

Loki slowly walked in, closing the door behind him. Your home was dark, with only a small tacky Christmas tree illuminating your living room. From his introspection, you were probably falling asleep on your couch, catching sight of a small fleece blanket hanging loosely at the edge.

“Take a seat. I’m sorry it’s a bit chilly in here though, I’m not a big fan of leaving the heater on at night.” You said while reaching over and tossing the blanket towards another chair.

“Actually, it feels quite warm in here.” Loki replied, taking a seat at the edge of your couch.

“Really? I guess maybe it might be warm for an Asgardian.” You pondered, poking your lips in contemplation. “Still, I can heat us up something warm to drink if you’d like.”

Loki shook his head. “Please, don’t burden yourself. I’ll be fine like this.”

You became concerned. There was obviously something up with Loki. His meek presentation suggested a couple of things to you, and some ideas had sprouted in your head. Knowing how Loki took things however, this urged you to prod at him carefully.

“What’s wrong?” You began, taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch. You hoped the distance would make it easier for him to speak. “You seem a bit...off.”

Loki slumped his back against your couch, arching an eyebrow at you. “Off?”

“Like, not your usual self. In fact,” You continued,  leaning yourself slightly closer to Loki to catch a better glimpse of him through the soft light. “Now, taking a closer look at you, I can tell you’re exhausted about something.”

This was true. Loki’s usual complexion was a bit darker than normally. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and although Loki never demonstrated any indication of wrinkles or laugh lines, there was a new crease forming over his forehead.

“I’m not tired.” He answered, not minding the decreased distance between the both of you. “I am however drained of this godforsaken planet.”

Those last words were filled with venom, and a deeply kept resentment began to slowly creep up into his throat. It was years since he had felt something like this, the intensity of his dissatisfaction and his hate for things, yet again, failing him horribly. No one wanted him here, that was clear enough. But he also wouldn’t subject himself to be rooted down to the remnants of Asgard on Midgard. It scared him, to expose himself to that type of darkness again.

He felt your hand gently on his shoulders, dispersing all of the negative ideas forming inside of him. He looked up at you, also very tired and exhausted. Your eyes, although slightly droopy, were focused on his, offering a gesture of empathy.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to have to live in an alien planet.” Your voice was soft and sincere, a change of pace in contrast to his other encounters.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a long deep breath.

“I’ve had this horrible pounding in my head for days now.” He admitted, uncertain of what you’d make out of this. “It’s causing me to...become what I’ve been wanting to avoid.”

You gently squeezed his shoulder, urging him to look at you again. “Actually Loki, it does sound like you’re incredibly stressed about all of this. I don’t know how stress works in Asgard...but maybe I can help you feel a bit better.”

Loki rolled his eyes, gently taking your hand off from his shoulder. “I’m not really in the mood for sex, especially with a mortal.”

Your face immediately became flushed. “Jesus, no! That’s not what I meant!”

He chuckled. Your little reaction was quite adorable to him. “What did you mean then?”

“Well, whenever I feel stressed the one thing that always makes me relax is getting a nice head massage.” You responding, motioning your hands over your head. “I wouldn’t mind doing that for you.”

A wary look appeared upon Loki’s face. “You will not touch my scalp.”

“Don’t be such a baby Loki. You never know, you might actually like it. You can even relax enough and take a little nap here.”

Loki fully affirmed that coming here was a very bad idea on his part. He wasn’t sure what he sought out coming here to look for you, but it certainly wasn’t something like this. He did not need to be put in another humiliating position like earlier.

“You’re out of your mind. And I’m not tired.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

You adjusted yourself on your couch, placing both of your feet flat on the floor. Your thighs became locked together and you gently patted down on them, motioning Loki to look on over.

“Lay your head down on here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You don’t want to be a rude house guest now do you? Lay down you little grump.”

He cursed at himself for giving in so easily. Just as he was commanded to, he pulled himself over and gently laid his head upon your thighs. The couch, agonizingly too short for him to lay his legs out, forced him to raise them upon the armrest, leaving his legs out dangling in the open.

Now he felt really stupid.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry about that. Didn’t realize how tall you actually were.”

He didn’t reply, a sour look plastered upon his face. Your humor towards the situation didn’t help his self-esteem at all, but at least this would be done in privacy, for absolutely no one to know about.

You lowered your neck a bit to get a better angle on him. “Kinda let your mind wander a bit. It’s always nice when someone gives you this type of attention.”

This was a type of attention Loki seldom seemed to receive and he listened to you attentively regardless of his attitude towards it . You began, digging your small fingers into his locks, beginning to rub and tickle at his scalp in the most meticulous manner. You didn’t pay much heed whether Loki was comfortable being touched in this matter or not. You had a goal in mind and Loki would have to abide by it in whatever manner he could.

It was actually a very long time since Loki had been touched in such a manner. Or, touched by a human at all. In Asgard, physical touch was also a way to form closer bonds and relationships with family and other loved ones. It wasn’t alien to him to be touched gently by others, his memories always luring him towards the fond moments he shared with Frigga. She would comfort him by gently patting his head, or by singing soft Asgardian lullabies.

He knew humans also shared these similar traits. They were very physical creatures by nature as means to provide love and comfort. He had long forgotten what it had felt like, to be actually...taken care of by another. And even if your gestures were odd at best, he experienced a long lost feeling he had not felt for centuries.

You noticed Loki’s eyes begin to flutter and droop. You knew he has tired and you wanted to know exactly what had caused for him to reach this point. But you knew best not to dig at it without his consent.

“Loki,” You whispered. “Sleep, I know you’re very tired.”

His eyes widened and darted towards yours. You jumped back a bit as his expression became angrier.

“I am not tired.” He snarled, this time his voice louder and stronger. “I don’t need your pity human.”

Ordinarily this would be a sign for you to back off, not wanting to anger the God any further. And yet, he remained there in the same exact spot. His head laid right on your lap, with no intention to move away.

You both remained quiet for a moment, wanting the tension to ease away before you could deject his statement towards you.

“It’s not pity, you know.” You said lowly. “It’s just concern, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Loki knew you were right. He told himself he needed to feel some contentment for your care for him, but a blockage continued to prevent him from verbalizing this towards you. He looked off to the side, wanting to avoid you eyes in shame.

“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you in that form.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry.” You replied, resuming to dig your fingers between his hair and his scalp. “You’ve had a rough day today, so I think it’s only fair for you to be a bit defensive.”

“Hmm.” The notion was different. For a long while, Loki was used to be talked down or to be admonished for his attitude and disdain for other’s feelings. In fact, he usually expected for others to react so negatively towards his lack of control with his anger. It was nice to be understood, even for a bit.

“I’ll just tell you one more time though. If you are tired, go ahead and nap for a bit. I won’t be bothered by it.”

You peered down to look at Loki, who continued to restrain himself from looking at you straight in the eyes. Instead he focused on your lips, soft and pink, practically begging to be kissed. Big mistake on his part.

“Thank you.” It was all Loki could reply with, as his eyes continued to flutter at the movements of your delicate fingers massaging his scalp.

Would it be completely wrong for him to close his eyes for a moment or so? He felt tired, he felt warm and he felt secure under your touch. Your fingers traced along his scalp like feathers sending a wave of tingles down his neck. The gently tugs of his locks triggered memories of his hair being braided by his mother, further dragging him deeper into that gentle slumber he had desired for.

At last, heavy eyelids drooped close and Loki’s breathing shifted, deeper and slower than before. You rested your head and arm against the armrest, feeling your legs go numb at the weight of Loki’s head. You dared not shift however, despite the pain and small discomfort you experienced. You felt Loki doze off after half an hour or so, his eyes gently closed, hands placed sternly over his chest which rose upwards and down.

Your own heavy eyelids began to flutter, but you fought against it, wanting to continue staring down at the ethereal creature who had fallen asleep right on your lap. You knew he was beautiful, and also took every ounce of will power you had to prevent yourself from bending forward and planting a much wanted kiss on him.

You chose not to disturb him, allowing him to experience a moment’s peace with you.

---

[howardpotts]

six: you got me like, oh

Love on the Brain - Masterlist in links

Pairing: MobBoss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and violence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer?

Chapter warning: smuuuuuuuutttt!!!!

A/N:  Slowly but surely, this story will get finished. The last chapter will probably uploaded when I’m 52 years old.

You were waiting in the women's bathroom. You’d be lying if you’d say you weren’t nervous. The thing you’re about to do is pretty risky and public. But you try to not think about that. 

Your jacket feels even shorter than it felt an hour ago. Your nipples are already semi-hard, making the fabric of the BALMAIN jacket feel extra good on your breasts. That you’re not wearing any panties right now is a blessing, since they would’ve been soaked anyway.

Steve walks in and shuts the door behind him hastily, locking it swiftly. He looks at you with this big mischievous smile.

He isn’t giving you much time to talk, as his lips are already pushed on yours and his hands find their way to the end of the jacket he gave you. Your hands are already loosening his belt; you didn’t want to spend too much time here.

He squeezes your ass harshly, while he bites your lower lip. It’s amazing how turned on this man can get you in just a few seconds - even more than you were before. 

You undo his zipper too and pull his pants down and then check how hard he is for you. Turns out he’s already pretty hard; you can only imagine his underwear is very uncomfortable for him right now.

“Want me to suck your cock?”, you ask sultry as you watch him with hungry eyes. 

“Mm, yes babygirl”, he replies, releasing your ass immediately. It might be a bit fast, but you can’t waste any time in here. It won’t be long until other people would like to use the bathroom. 

You get on your knees and make sure that your cleavage is showing through the deep cut of the jacket. When you pull his underwear down, his cock springs out. God, you can’t believe this guy is so hung. Is there something that isn’t perfect about his body?

That question will have to wait for another time when you feel his right hand on the back of your head, suggesting for you to start. You first give his cock a lick from his shaft to the tip, swirling your tongue once around it. He groans lightly as he watches you. 

Slowly you take his cock into your mouth. Deeper and deeper with each trust you make, your lips firmly pressed on it. His fingers slightly grasp your hair. When you look up, you can see his lips in an ‘O’, his eyes drinking the sight of you taking his cock in. 

Taste of his precum slowly takes over in your mouth, his cock getting harder and more sensitive the more your lips stroke it. A little unplanned moan leaves your lips, vibration adding only more pleasure for Steve. Again you look up to him, and you can see how his pupils have turned darker; some kind of animalistic rage that was about to come out of him.

The tip of his cock is now in the back of your mouth. You’re letting yourself get used to his cock before you’re taking it into your throat. However - Steve is too impatient to wait. A second hand joins on your head, a groan comes out of his mouth. With a bit of force, he grabs your head tightly and pushes his cock further in. The first gag reflex shows itself right away.

He pulls himself out to let you breath for a literal second, before he gets his cock back in. The controlled and reserved Steve from the restaurant is gone, the beasty and wild Steve took over. This might sound insane, but you’re getting so turned on by how he manhandles you.

“Very good girl”, he hissed as he shoved his cock in and out of your mouth. A glucking sound is now echoing through the bathroom and your eyes are getting watery, while you still try and look at Steve. It seems like an impossible job, though, and so you close your eyes instead. 

He eases it a bit, giving your space to breath and to get yourself together again. Your nails were digged into his calves without you noticing, so you relaxed your fingers. He probably noticed how he went a little too hard for your body to handle. 

When he releases your head again, you pull his cock out of your mouth immediately and catch your breath again fully. 

“Are you okay, baby?”, he asks. You nod and get up op on your feet again.

“I like it how you use me”, you say with a coy smile, your hand again on his cock. One corner of his lips lift up, his eyes glister. You hope he gets the notion of you not minding him to throw you around.

“Then you’re in luck”, he says before he pushes you against the bathroom sink. “Because I’m about to use you like a little fucktoy.”

No one ever used that word on you. Hell, no one ever even said something close to it. It made you hot all over. It’s weird how you can turn from a confident woman to being all putty and submissive for him. 

He turns you around, his cock now grazing against your ass. His hand grabs your chin from behind and you look at him in the mirror.

“Keep watching”, he smirks. You nod excitedly. Have you ever seen yourself been fucked in the mirror? Definitely not like this, with a man like this.

His fingers slide over your pussy. It’s so wet, you almost feel embarrassed at how turned on you are. Slight moans leave your mouth as you lean your head against his chest. Still, you’re watching him and he watches you. It feels weirdly intense, even though you’re in a woman's bathroom of some restaurant.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, such a dirty girl”, he whispers in your ear as he slides two fingers in you with ease. The moans become a bit harder, but he shushes you softly. 

He pushes his fingers into you harshly once, before leaving your aching pussy and rubbing your clit for two seconds. Then he goes back to pushing his fingers into you with force, only to come back to your clit. This he keeps repeating, driving you crazy with lust. Something about this motion feels so incredibly good. 

Without warning, he slips a third finger into the motion. A hiss leaves you as you close your eyes, enjoying the sensation this movement gives you. 

A hand forms around your neck and squeezes it lightly, making you open your eyes again. “Keep watching for me.”

“Fuck me”, you whisper as you can feel yourself come closer to your orgasm.

“Beg me”, he answers. 

You look at him in the mirror, pleading eyes but still too stubborn to beg. His eyebrows knit together and he pushes his fingers in your pussy harshly again. But now, they stay there. You can feel them lightly crooking, hitting that spot. 

“I said, beg”, he roars, his voice low and stern. 

“Please”, you whisper, but clear your throat quickly.

“Please fuck me”, you now say more clearly and pleadingly. “Fuck me hard, please.”

You look at him with big puppy eyes. “I want to feel your cock so badly, please fuck me.”

As long as he’s not fucking you, you’ll beg for him to do so. You’ll keep saying things; hopefully the right things to make him go crazy. Would he like it if you called him ‘daddy’? Hm, maybe that’s for another time. 

“Please use me”, you now start, hoping the dirtier dirty talk will get him to fucking move, because all he’s been doing this entire time is smirking and cockily waiting for some more begging. “Fuck me however the fuck you want, I’m all yours. Just please, fuck me!”

“That’s more like it, babydoll”, he finally says. “As you wish.”

One hand pushes your back down, while the other slips between him and your. ass, guiding his cock to your dripping wet pussy. It slides in with ease. God, it feels great. Finally being filled up by him after waiting a long weekend. You’ve been using your vibrator, or maybe ‘abusing’ would be more fitting. Thinking about how his cock filled you up, wasn’t hard to orgasm to that fantasy.

But it feels even better than in your imagination. Last time you had sex, you were a bit intoxicated. But now you’re 100% sober and aware; and you also realise it feels bigger than you remembered it did. It stretches you, but not in a painful way, in a good way. 

He starts pushing, both of his hands now on your back to keep you low. You struggle to keep watching in the mirror, but you keep your head high and watch yourself before you watch him. He looks at you with animalistic eyes, before his eyes turn to your ass and where the two of you meet. He’s pumping harder and harder, you can’t keep silent anymore. Moans are flying over your lips. It’s like a motivation for him, every thrust gets harder. 

His shaft clashes to your ass. You put a hand on the mirror to keep yourself steady, your face now inches away from the glass. Even though you can’t look at him anymore, he doesn’t mind and you don’t either. It feels so fucking amazing, you don’t really care anymore on what you see or do, as long as this feeling sticks around.

“Fuck, babygirl, you feel so good”, he sighs. One hand grabs a hand full of hair and forces your head up again, the other hand smacks your ass one time before holding on to your hip. “I’m not going to last very long.”

“M-me neither”, you squirm. “Fucking me so good.”

“Yeah? You like it?”, he hisses. “Like having my cock in your pussy?” 

“Yes, god, yes.” The hand you placed on the mirror went from flat to a fist, showing him how you’re really close to your orgasm. You can feel it coming. “Please, don’t stop.”

“You gonna come for me?”, he grunts. “You gonna come like a good girl?”

“Fuck, yes Daddy!”

Oh shit. That’s not what i wante-

A big roar comes from behind you. Both his hand set on your hips, fucking your relentlessly. It’s like you unleashed something. Mother-fucking-yes.

Your whole body starts to tingle, knees are getting weak. The orgasm washes over you and you welcome it. You want to watch Steve, but you can’t get your head high enough. Moans leave your mouth, but you’re not sure how charming they are; but hell, you don’t really fucking care right now. 

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck”, you moan. 

Steve grabs your hair once again. “I’m gonna come-”

“Please, give me your cum”, you plead to help him to his orgasm. Should you say ‘Daddy’ again? That might actually be a bit too much.

“I want your cum”, you beg as you gain a bit of your strength again and watch him in the mirror. It’s a bit foggy, but you can still see him. “Give me your fucking cum.”

Your words sent him over the edge. His pace falters as he leans forward. A little smirk is on your face. It never fails to fill yourself with pride if you make a guy come for you. It gives you this sense of power; especially with a man like Steve. His hips stutter as he fills your pussy with his cum. 

His head lifts, almost like a sign that his orgasm is over. You smile at him through the mirror, he gives you a little smirk back. But he doesn’t leave. His cock is still in your pussy and he’s not making an attempt to get it out.

“I want you to be filled with my cum while we eat our dessert”, he says with a smug face.

“I thought I was dessert”, you comment quickly.

“Now don’t get bratty with me”, he says as he slaps your ass. He finally gets out of you. 

You both clean up pretty quickly, the only fixing was your hair. 

When you get back at the table, your face couldn’t turn more red when some waiter looks at you a bit confused. You just grabbed the menu in front of you, acting like you were way too busy reading whatever desserts they had to offer.

“Any dessert”, the waitress asks. 

Steve looks at you with a most innocent face. “We’ll have some tiramisu, two spoons please.”

It tasted deliciously, but Steve kept eyeing you, which in turn makes your cheeks turn bright red. Whenever you saw a lady walking to the bathroom, all you could think was what you just did in there. It can’t be possible to not notice the smell or the foggy mirror - with a handmark on it.

“It was a lovely evening”, you tell him as you get your coats - wait, no, he gets his coat. You were wearing yours the entire time. 

“Was?”, he says. “Did you think I was planning on bringing you home now? The evening is young, sweetheart.”

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