#and i'm not sure even wearing a blazer will help that (also i thought i had a nice blazer

[angel-of-the-moons]

Mr and Mrs Knight

Steven Grant (Marc Spector + Jake Lockley) x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, body dysmorphia, smut, suit kink, glove kink, fingering, PiV sex, creampie, squirting, misuse of The Suit™ (and truncheons), cosplay, established relationship, fluff

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I am unashamed to admit that suits are fucking hot and the shit they do to me is what I imagine straight men feel when they see a VS model in lingerie. And Steven is hot. So is Marc. And Jake and Oscar in general you get the rest. Imagine the Mrs Knight suit looks something like this. (Also featuring the headcanons by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction for Jake's craftiness!)

Taglist: @mundivagantsoul @belle-oftheball34 @steven-grants-world @denile-xo @whatevenisagrapefruit @hagridnmegamind @sapphire-and-ruby

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It had been a banger of a night. A fun Halloween bash at the museum, amazing costumes, great food. Donna even seemed to be in a decent mood. But of course that woman could have been faking it.

You and Steven decided to go with matching costumes. In a gross abuse of Steven, Marc, and Jake's status as Moon Knight, you'd convinced him to use his "Mr Knight" suit as his costume.

Jake helped you make yours to match. Finding the majority was easy enough at thrift stores (despite Marc's insistence that you should buy a new one), the mask was what was the pain.

That's where Jake's expertise came in. Sure his main skill was in knitting, but that didn't mean the man wasn't nuanced in other ways to make clothes. You couldn't count how many times Jake would stitch up the seams of your favorite jacket that you just refused to throw away, or how many times he'd hit you with that smug smile when you blubbered about how awesome he was for giving extra life into your jacket so you could wear it juuuust a bit longer.

Your mask turned out to be almost a perfect replica of his, complete with glowing lenses to match Steven.

You were nervous when you got dressed, looking in your floor-length mirror at your reflection.

Your hair was pinned back neatly to allow you to pull the mask on or off (because unlike Steven's, which was magically suited--pun intended--to be comfortable) without much problem, and you would still appear "flawless" as Steven put it.

But right now, you were having second thoughts. You weren't sure you liked how the skirt fit you. Or the blazer.

The waistband of the skirt squeezed your waist and the rolls of your tummy, the creases in the fabric seemingly emphasizing every imperfection you saw in yourself.

Your transparent white stockings were not helpful either, the bands squished the fat of your thighs in a way that made them look like muffins, even moreso than your tummy. They kept rolling down so much you had to buy garters to wear beneath your skirt just so they'd stay up...

You frowned at your reflection as the skirt rode up your legs, showing off the cute lace trim of the stockings and your squishy thighs; honestly if you weren't careful, or you bent over the skirt would bare your ass to the whole party.

You were tempted to go and grab that last minute shitty vampire costume you had stashed away, when Steven walked in, already dressed immaculately in that gorgeous white suit of his.

He adjusted the tie, not looking at you as he does so.

"Hey, luv, I'm fairly ready. I can help you with your makeup now, if..." His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth feels suddenly very dry at the sight of you all dressed up.

His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip, moistening it as he clears his throat.

"You look good."

"Oh.... Thanks." You mumble shyly, trying to pull the edges of the blazer down to cover the rolls poking out of your skirt a bit more.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, beautiful?" He said softly, moving up to you.

"I... I look like a marshmallow." You sigh hesitantly, your tone full of self-deprecation.

"Hey, now." Steven smiled sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist as you tucked your face into his lapel.

"You're the most gorgeous marshmallow on the planet if that's the case." He told you, kissing the top of your head.

He felt something press down on him, and he looked up at the mirror, getting a full view of your back, but he saw Marc's face staring back at him with a cringed expression.

(Dude, that was the shittiest compliment ever. What woman wants to hear her being compared to a marshmallow??) He hissed.

Steven was about to retort, before you started bubbling out on laughter at how silly his compliment was.

"That was so corny." You snicker.

Steven gave a smug smirk at Marc before looking down at you with a soft, lovesick smile.

"Yeah, well, you love my sense of humor, eh?" He winked.

"Yeah... I guess I do." You smile back.

"Now, then! Your makeup. Let's sit you down so I can work on it for you!"

Whenever you had your doubts about your appearance, Steven, Marc, or Jake would pipe in and alleviate your worries. Sometimes all three at once, though rapid switching would often cause problems for them (like migraines).

You kept your eyes closed as Steven carefully applied your highlighter to your cheekbones, the brush tickling your skin, his shaky breaths ghosting over your face.

He would mumble some curses when he messed up, but would correct his mistake.

When you had asked him where on earth he learned to contour and highlight he shyly admitted he watched half a dozen tutorials on YouTube to get it perfect for you.

You felt the coldness of the liquid eyeliner as he painted on the wings with the white liner, the silver and gold glitter further adding to your look.

"'Kay luv, open your eyes so I can apply your mascara." He murmured, looking down in your makeup kit for the said cosmetic.

Once he did, he pulled out the black tube and made sure there was no excess before he carefully combed the white creamy substance on your eyelashes, lightening them up to enhance the face he'd helped apply for you.

Once he was finished with both eyes, he leaned back and allowed you to blink, smiling that puppy dog smile of his in satisfaction at his handiwork before placing the mascara tube back in the kit.

He lifted his hand and shook the bottle of setting spray so you wouldn't accidentally sweat it off or wipe it off with something during the night (or god forbid it rub off on the inside of your mask).

"Close em again for me."

You couldn't help but smile at his level of gentleness and politeness.

You restrained from physically recoiling as the cold setting spray hit your skin and quickly dried.

"Now, do you want to put on lipstick now or when we get to the party?" He asked as he watched your sickeningly gorgeous lashes flutter open. All the white, silver, and hints of gold on your face enhanced your eyes and their color, the very depths of them stealing his breath away.

"We can do it now. I have liquid matte and regular lipstick." You reply, smiling once again.

"Which would you prefer?" Steven asked you.

"Whichever you think would look best."

He sucked in a breath that his lungs were suddenly starving for, and grabbed the liquid tube.

His hand gently cupped your chin as he brushed the satiny lipstick onto your lips, carefully lining them so it wasn't too much. He'd even dipped his finger in your cosmetic glitter and applied a very gentle amount.

"Gorgeous." He breathed.

"Aww..." You giggle, thankful for the glitter and makeup that hid your blush at his praise.

"Now then... Let's go, shall we?" He said, taking your hand to help you stand and slip in your white heels.

As the two of you left, Steven could hear Jake in the back of their headspace.

(Que hermosa... Be careful, hermanito. If she bends over, I just might take over for the rest of the night and have that ass for myself.)

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Mr and Mrs Knight. That's what you two went as for the party. You two even won the prize for best couples costume!

Sure it was just a gift card to some restaurant, but it was exhilarating to hear how people adored your matching outfits.

And you couldn't help but notice all night that Steven simply couldn't keep his hands off of you.

He would get like that sometimes; working himself up like that, but trying to be subtle. You knew it was only a matter of time before an awkward boner would be the cause for the two of you to leave early, so you excused yourself to the restroom under an excuse to check and see if your makeup needed retouching or if you could go the rest of the night without your mask.

But you got a little nervous when two women went into the lavatory after you, and you felt trapped within your stall. You simply couldn't stand the glances from other women you were getting all night. You were afraid these two women who were clucking at each other like hens were amongst the ones judging you.

And your fears were confirmed.

"I can't believe that such a handsome guy would pick a blimp to be his girlfriend." One of them scoffed as she applied a fresh layer of brick red lipstick. As if she didn't have enough on already.

You felt your heart sink further inside of you as the other joined in.

"I know, right? It's gotta be her tits, only thing I can imagine. Maybe her ass, too." The other laughed as she touched up the false blood on the corners of her mouth.

"Either that or she gives good enough head that he can overlook the fact that if she ever got on top she could crush him." The first one snickered.

Your hands knotted in the mask you held in your hands, threatening to tear the stitches Jake so lovingly sewed in for you to wear tonight. You bit the inside of your cheek harshly as the two gossiped further.

"Ugh, and the sad thing is, he's cute, for a bookworm who won't shut up." The second sighed.

"Ugh, I know... I can look past the blabbering if I can see what he's packing."

"Right? I wonder if he's as good with his mouth as he is with his stupid history facts." The first giggled.

You gritted your teeth. You couldn't take much more, you knew that. Insulting you, you could take and bottle up to deal with later, probably in the heat and privacy of your shower.

But talking about Steven like he's some kind of... sex toy? No. Hell no. If you were anything, you were insanely protective over your boys. Even bordering on possessive at times (of course the same was true for the boys about you).

You were done.

You slammed the stall door open and sort of enjoyed how startled they seemed when they saw you, their jaws dropping when it hit them that you heard everything.

You hurriedly wash your hands and slip your gloves back on, gripping your mask in your hand tight as you spare them a backwards glance before leaving the lavatory to find Steven.

You felt sick to your stomach and you wanted to go home...

When you found him, his brows knitted upwards in concern at how tight-lipped and tense you were when you gripped his sleeve tight.

"Ey luv, what's wrong?" He murmured to you, leading you away from the crowd.

"I... I just want to go home." You say, the words those women said about your body weighing down on you, and the things they said about Steven burning hot in your gut. You weren't sure what to feel with this cocktail of emotions.

"Hey hey, okay we can leave." He says, kissing you on the forehead.

"Let's go."

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The walk back to your flat was... Difficult. You could barely hold yourself together, suddenly hyper-aware of every roll and stretch mark on your body, even the slight double chin you had when you moved your head a certain way.

It wasn't until you were in the lift of your building that you finally broke down, your reflection staring back at you in the walls of the tiny space, crushing down on you with every imperfection you saw.

You couldn't keep in the bubbling sobs, or the fat tears that rolled down your cheeks and ruined the makeup Steven worked so hard to put on you.

He cradled you against him and cooed to you, saying sweet nothings and whispering nothing but praise for your looks, rubbing your back and kissing your hair.

In the various angles of the reflections, and the oppressive feeling weighing down on Steven... He could see and feel Marc and Jake.

Both looked pissed. Marc almost looked violent.

(If anybody talks like that about our muñeca again...) Jake trailed off.

(Oh trust me, I'll do the honors.) Marc growled.

The walk back into your flat felt horrid. You didn't just cry, you ugly-cried. You ruined your makeup, your hair fell out of the pins, and your skirt rode up more with every rushed step you took to hurry up and get in to get into some baggy clothes that didn't showcase your body.

You didn't feel cute or sexy anymore, you felt... ugly.

And Steven didn't like that one bit. Marc and Jake retreated, knowing that their anger at your injured self-opinion wouldn't help. This kind of situation was a Steven situation. He knew best how to be the sweetest person on the planet with you.

But right now he wasn't feeling particularly sweet. Sure, you were upset. But he couldn't help but get a good look at you as you walked ahead of him, the skirt riding up so much that he could just barely see the black and blue panties you wore beneath, your cheeks peeking out from the edges of the fabric, the garter straps clinging desperately to your stockings in effort to keep them up your gloriously plush thighs to keep them up.

He felt hot beneath the collar, his trousers getting uncomfortably tight as blood flowed straight to his cock.

The moment the door closed behind you, your hands, trembling and rushed, went to unbutton the blazer to get it off of you quicker, sniffles and tiny sobs sneaking out of you in the process.

However, your actions were halted when Steven placed his hands gently on your shoulders from behind, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your blazer, trying to soothe you.

"Love. You're gorgeous. Beautiful." He breathed, resting his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling the lingering scent of your shampoo.

"Steven, I'm... I'm not." You sniffle. "I'm fat, I can barely squeeze into a pair of jeans, I can't even shop at normal clothing stores for women. I get looks when I wear anything tight, and--and the things I hear people say about me--"

Your voice is broken off when you hiccup, feeling another sobbing fit try to get out of you.

"You don't understand what I'm sayin', luv." Steven smiled into your hair, ever patient.

"You're the prettiest girl in the world to us. You don't need a flat belly, or toned thighs to be pretty. You're funny, you're warm, and you're soft."

You made a shocked squeak when his hands snake around you, his gloved hands gripping at your belly and squeezing the plushness there through your clothes.

Your denial died in your throat when Steven rolled his hips into you, his hard cock throbbing as he rutted into the curve of your ass.

"You wouldn't be able to get to me like this if I didn't find you the most gorgeous woman on the planet. You wouldn't get Jake to say the filthy things he tells you in bed. You wouldn't have Marc snuggling you and resting his head in your lap or on your belly..."

His breathing got heavier as he rocked his hips into you further, a bitten-back whimper dying as he swallowed hard.

"S-Steven--"

"You've been driving me insane all night. This skirt looks so good on you." He says hotly in your ear, his fingers rolling up the hem of your skirt to reveal your panties and garters, making you gasp again.

"Those stockings huggin' you so tight. Been thinking about how badly I want to have my head between your legs, tonight." He growled.

Before you could say anything else, his gloved hand went up to your mouth and he tapped your lips, begging for entrance. Powerless to resist him, you let him press his fingers into your mouth, your tongue wetting them effectively before he pulled them away, and slipped down into your panties

He dragged one of his fingers up your puffy lips, parting your folds before he turned his attention onto your clit.

"S-S-Steven--" You whimper when he starts to circle the little nub.

"Hush, now. Let me show you, eh?" Steven said, biting at your earlobe softly.

You couldn't fight it, you couldn't fight the warm nectar that gushed out from you at his words and affirmations. All your mind could focus on was how wonderfully his fingers toyed with your cunt, deftly rolling, pushing, and pinching your clit in every way he knew that brought you the best pleasure, the fastest.

Your mind practically went blank when he curled two fingers into your weeping hole, the leather around his digits making them thicker than they normally would be, and providing a luxurious texture to your clit as he massaged you with his palm. His mouth trailed down your neck, breath hot on your skin as he bit down and sucked.

It wasn't like when Jake did this to you, no. Every one of them had different methods, different touches...

And Steven was particularly good at balancing out the sweet and the hard, paying more attention to your own pleasure than his. Sometimes, he would get so lost in pleasuring you he'd cum in his pants without even being touched.

This time was no different... in no time at all, he had you cumming so hard you almost fell to the floor, your slick gushing out and soaking the glove.

He smiled sweetly into the skin of your neck as he eased you forward, so you could press your palms on one of his desks, thighs quivering as you recollected yourself.

You barely saw through your haze clearly enough to catch Steven licking his glove clean through the reflection in the mirror on the desktop, his eyes closing in satisfaction at your savory taste.

You half expected him to drop to his knees and eat you out, next, but he doesn't. He just stands there for a moment, staring at you with a lidded and loving gaze, curls falling forward over his forehead as they always do.

That's when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head, and you pinch your legs together, and try to wiggle away from his gaze, to retreat to the safety of the bathroom and escape from his heated staring.

But in a flash, Steven is on you again, his hands gripping at your hips and that's when you feel the hot, heavy weight of his leaking cock slap against the barely clothed flesh of your ass as he rolls your skirt up completely over your hips.

"Steven!" You squeak.

"Hey, now... 'M not done showing you yet." His voice croaks out, heavy and barely coherent as the silk fabric of your panties brushes the head of his dick.

He groans, giving one more roll of his hips against your ass, smearing more precum on the fabric and skin, there; before he gripped the base, lining his cock up to your weeping hole.

"Fuck, luv. So soft. So wet f'me." He said, voice strained from barely contained arousal.

You squirmed, still feeling inadequate despite Steven's words and assurances.

God, you wanted him. You wanted him so badly. But right now you just felt so... so...

Your thoughts cut themselves off when he reached behind him, and from beneath his coat pulled out one of his engraved truncheons.

Placing it in front of you and gripping it with his other hand, pulling you tight against him as he thrust sharply into you, sheathing himself in one whole go, the tip of his cock slamming upwards so suddenly you felt his tip smush your cervix before he eased back.

"B-baby--" You whine, despite yourself.

"Not runnin' away, luv." Steven grunted into your hair as he thrust into you, his hands gripping tightly on the truncheon, using the bar to squeeze against your belly and hold you against him while he fucked you raw.

You couldn't fight the snapping of his hips or his raw need for you, right now. You couldn't hold back the moans and whimpers he wrenched out of you with each punctuation of his hips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck--" You hear him wheeze as his thrusts get more and more desperate.

There is a metallic clang as he tosses the truncheon to the floor in favor of gripping your thigh and lifting your leg so your knee was on the desktop.

You let Steven guide you so you're practically laying face down on the desk, his cock still spearing you open, pussy fluttering around him at the change in position.

You were taken by surprise when he grips your wrists next, ripping off his tie before slipping it over your hands, before tying them together at the curve of your back. Not tight enough to cut off circulation, but tight enough you couldn't squirm free.

He hesitated a moment. As nice as it would be to watch the soft flesh of your ass bounce and ripple while he fucked you... He didn't want to do it like this.

So, without further hesitation on his part, he gripped you, lifting you off your feet and rolling you so you were laying with your upper half on the desktop, pulling your legs up so your calves rested on his shoulders, all without dislodging from the warm tightness of your cunt.

You whimpered as he does this, and try to wriggle from his tie so you could cover your face, your running makeup and smeared lipstick.

Your pitiful, chubby face--

"Hey, hey..." His voice is soft and shaky as he leans in, cupping your cheek with one hand as your thighs squish against the both of you.

He caresses your soft cheek with a thumb and he smiles.

"Don't hide from me, sweetheart. You're gorgeous and I want to see you."

"Steven, I..." You whimper as your pussy clenches around his shaft, making it twitch inside of your tight, gummy walls.

His eyes rolled back with a groan.

"I'm not gonna stop until you see what I see." He grunts, dragging his cock out slowly until only the tip remains inside of you, the rest of your cunt squeezing desperately around nothing.

You're barely given a moment of respite before he snaps his hips into yours again, fucking you relentlessly and hitting your sweet spot over and over withe every arch of his hips.

Some of Marc's precision was bleeding into him as he aimed the tip of his cock like a weapon against your g-spot, pounding into you hard and fast, stoking the fire in your belly so hotly that you felt the embers scatter throughout your veins, every nerve in your body aflame in pleasure.

His left hand kneads the soft skin of your thigh, squishing and rolling the plush flesh beneath his gloved fingers before he slips his other hand between you, circling your clit mercilessly, making you shriek with every sharp thrust of his hips.

He loved how your body jiggled and bounced with every thrust; how your tits were bouncing so hard that they were spilling out of the top of your bra cups, your blazer falling completely open around you, now.

Despite still being fully clothed, you felt utterly naked beneath his gaze. Fresh tears burned in your eyes as he crammed his cock into you over and over again, his fingers working your second orgasm out of you faster and faster with every swipe of his fingers.

"It's okay, luv." Steven moaned, turning his head to plant a kiss on the inside of your knee, the leg he was squishing in his fingers.

"Cum for me, yeah? Show me how pretty you are." He pants, his thumb pressing hard into your clit.

That was all it took, the friction of his fingers, the thrusts of his hips, and each jab of his cock, plus his words? You were on cloud nine, brain fried and all sense gone as drool dribbled down your chin and you cum with a choked cry, babbling out his name over and over as your body clamps down, gushing around his cock, spraying out and soaking his hand and the front of his suit.

Steven, poor, loveable, goofy Steven could never hold out too long after you came, the squeezing and milking of your pussy was simply too much for him to bear.

Your eyes rolled back and you felt yourself spasm in an aftershock as you felt the hot ropes of his cum painting your walls a milky white, flooding your hungry cunt with everything he had to give you.

He drops your leg, wrapping them around his waist as he leans in and kisses you roughly, his tongue pushing past your lips to twine with yours and steal your recovered breaths.

"See... You're fucking beautiful. Wouldn't do this to us otherwise." He mumbles against your lips.

"Oh... God." You whimper.

Your mind ticks back into sanity and you realize the two of you are still clothed. Your outfit was of course mussed, but Steven was almost completely immaculate. The only thing he was missing of his suit was his tie, and the only sign of mess was the wet stain on his front, and his cock still sheathed inside of you.

"Hmm." He hummed softly, looking down at you with the softest gaze he could fix on you.

Steven gave you a sweet kiss to your forehead before he moved his mouth to the shell of your ear.

"And if you still don't believe me... Jake and Marc want to have a word with you."

[12woso12]

Dorothy lands in North London - Part 5

Part 4

When you finally made it back to Emily's apartment block, it was a quarter to seven in the morning. It was obvious that neither you or Kyra were time conscious which you could see being quite a problem for the two of you in the future. Quietly, you slipped inside the block and began to ascend the stairs to the fourth floor, eyes aching from the lack of sleep. Your joggers clung to the bottom of your legs, soaked from hours spent rolling around on wet grass. You must have looked as though you'd been dragged backwards through a hedge.

As you unlocked Emily's apartment door you found the older woman waiting for you at the kitchen counter, stoney expression on her face.

'Decided to return have you?' she mused, aggressively taking a bite of toast. 'How's Kyra?'

You flinch nervously at her tone. 'Sorry Em, I should've messaged you'

'Yeah you should've! If i hadn't of seen that dumb instagram story, which the club aren't going to be happy about by the way, then i wouldn't have known where you were!'

'I'm not a kid, Em' You retaliated 'I was with Kyra, we had a kick about at the park'

'At 3 in the morning? God help us all deal with you and Kyra being friends' She rolled her shoulders and began to ease up slightly. 'Want any breakfast? I've got cereal under the counter'

You gratefully find a box of something called Cookie Crunch and begin to nibble at a few pieces from the box. 'Wow, the Brits sure made this tasty didn't they?'

Emily snatched the box from your hands and took a bowl from the sink. 'Don't stick your hands in there! Look how muddy you are, you're going to need to take a shower before you get picked up for the Emirates'

You ate in silence, casting an occasional glance in Emily's direction in an attempt to see if her mood had changed. When after ten minutes the line in her brow still hadn't shifted, guilt coursed through your veins and tied your stomach in knots. Your fellow American had taken you in and this was what you repaid her in - sneaking out and mud caked shoes.

'I am sorry.' You said 'I couldn't sleep and Kyra was messaging me...I was exited to meet someone new and so i didn't really give much thought to the consequences'

'Thank you for apologising' Emily smiled for the first time that morning and then: 'Why couldn't you sleep?'

'Jetlag' you lied, Emily didn't need to know about your nightmares. You hadn't told anyone before. Of course, people knew the basics about your life, or at least what they'd read in the press. But you didn't think they needed to know how your father's abuse still haunted you or how you could still see the blood splatters from your mum's head.

'I'm getting picked up at 8:30 right?' You glance at your phone.

'Yeah. Know what you're wearing?'

You shrugged. 'Haven't even touched my suitcases yet.'

Emily stared at you in disbelief. 'Then how did you brush your teeth last night?'

'Gum?' you said matter of factly. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy feeling fresh before bed but it had been a long day and figured it could all wait until the following morning. What you hadn't counted on however was having little to no time in the morning due to your impromptu meeting with Kyra.

'Bloody hell' Emily murmured

'God you're so British now aren't you' You teased Emily

'Just you wait' Emily grumbled 'The Brits will get to you too'

'Never!'

The journey to the Emirates took a long hour of fighting traffic through the streets of London. You'd been picked up in a black and shiny SUV driven by an elderly man named Michael who you weren't exactly sure should have a license after you witnessed him reversing backwards over pavement.

But who were you to judge? You couldn't exactly drive either.

When you finally built up the courage to tackle your suitcases you had picked out a pair of loose blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a tweed blazer to fit over the top. You decided that smart casual was the way to go, not wanting to seem too eager but also excited to sign such a professional contract.

You were nervous as you approached the stadium. Your stomach was fluttering and your jaw clenched tightly as every second passed by. You weren't too sure what to expect, you knew Jonas Eidevall would be there to greet you at some point and you knew you'd be meeting the player liaison who would be helping to settle you in, but that was it. Everything else was the complete unknown.

As the SUV churned to a halt and you bid goodbye to Michael, the door swung open and you were met by a short woman who introduced herself as Jennifer.

'Sorry about all this secrecy' she said gesturing around her at the emirate's parking garage that you had been brought to. 'We try and keep all our signings under wraps until announcement day'

You sniggered slightly knowing that Arsenal could never keep a secret 'When will i be announced?'

'Day after tomorrow, if all goes to plan'

You eyebrows shot up 'That's quicker than i thought it would be'

'We were aiming for next week but it seems as though you and your new Australian friend decided to throw a wrench into our schedule' Jennifer made reference to your instagram post 'You've created a lot of buzz and we want to make sure to utilise it, so within 48 hours you'll be officially announced'

You decided not to defend yourself, the last thing you needed was your own player liaison to take a disliking to you. Instead, you followed her silently through a set of double doors and into the halls of the mighty Emirates stadium.

'This is David, he's our media specialist' Jennifer pointed to a man who was dressed head to toe in Arsenal gear. He held a phone in hand, video clearly on and pointing directly at you. 'He'll be following you around today, getting some content for the fans and that type of thing'

'Well as long as he doesn't follow me into the restroom' You deadpanned attempting to hold in laughter as Jennifer's eyes widened and David turned a deep shade of red.

'Have Kim and Leah been warned about you?' Jennifer half-joked. You shrugged and shot an apologetic glance towards David who instantly averted his eyes. 'This way, we need to get you into some red'

Jennifer led you and David down a maze of hallways and through a dozen doors until you finally came to a rest outside the player changing rooms. 'There's a kit waiting for you inside, once you're changed we can head up to the offices. I think Jonas has arrived so you can get to signing the contract. After that, we've got a welcome video to make'

You nod and hesitantly turn into the changing rooms. You were overcome with an overwhelming nausea suddenly and as you entered the Arsenal changing rooms for the very first time, the transfer became scarily real. The first thing you noticed about the room were the lights, they were harsh, almost too harsh for your tired eyes to take in. The Arsenal cress was printed onto the floor in the middle of the cubbyholes, it glistened with history and somehow sent a wave of pride into your bones despite having yet to wear its colours.

In the centre cubby hung your new kit. Usually you played with the number 13 on your back but since that had already been taken, you'd opted to swap the numbers around for 31. You made quick work of changing into the kit and ran a quick hand through your hair to add some volume. You paused in one of the mirrors to study your appearance and were happy to discover that the red kit suited you.

It wasn't too often that you worried about how you looked. You had the fortunate gene of appearing skinny and gorgeous, at least that's what your mum used to tell you.

You kept your own trainers on and folded the rest of your clothes to sit neatly in the cubby as you readied yourself to step back into the hallway where David would most definitely be waiting, camera in hand.

'Not bad this kit, is it?' you re-enter the hallway and smile at Jennifer who nodded at you impressed.

'Suits you' She said 'Come on then, up to the offices we go'

As you trudged up several flights of stairs, your hands grew sweater and you began to worry whether you'd be able to grip the pen tight enough. You tried to shake off the stupid thought and happily found yourself distracted when you finally came face to face with your new manager.

'Y/n!' Jonas exclaimed as Jennifer led you into a media room. 'It is great to meet you, we are all so excited to have you here' The Swedish man thrust a hand towards you which you took enthusiastically, meeting his wide smile and firm shake.

'Good to meet you' You replied as he gestured for you to take a seat at a table in the centre of the room. You sat down in front of a maroon wall, the Arsenal cress above your head. On the table lay a pen and paper, ready and waiting for your signature.

'I really hope we're able to build something here together' Jonas told you as he picked up the pen and handed it to you. The snap of David's phone capturing the moment was difficult to ignore.

'Me too, i'm excited to get started' You lower the pen to paper. Your life was about to change, for the worse or better, you didn't know. The pen moved fluidly as you drew out your signature and Jonas clasped you on the back in celebration.

You'd done it. You were officially an Arsenal player.

'Well, now that's out the way we're about to do something a lot more exciting' Jennifer smiled.

'The video?' You questioned

'Yep. And we've got a special guest'

[mrschristensen]

Kinktober Day 13 (10/13): Daddy Kink starring Hayden Christensen

Kinktober Masterlist

WARNINGS: smut (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK), female s/o, dom Hayden/sub s/o, daddy kink, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), mating press, degradation, ass slapping/spanking, pet names/name calling (lovie, slut, whore, pretty girl), creampie, quickie (kinda?), lmk if I missed any!

synopsis: It was completely accidental, but Hayden's girlfriend couldn't help the word that came out of her mouth when she saw him come out in his suit for Ewan's Walk of Fame ceremony. So, of course, they were fashionably late... Or right on time?

-> note: featuring the outfit above <3

WC: 485 words

He looked so damn good. She was in complete awe when he stepped out of their master bathroom, wearing a nice blue blazer and dress pants and a white collared dress shirt underneath. He looked so sexy, so unbelievably sexy. She couldn't even understand how she got with such a god of a man.

But then she was deprived of all the control she had over her body, specifically her mouth. Her thoughts were accidentally said out loud, and all that she could hear herself say was "...Daddy?"

She immediately realized what escaped her lips and her face flushed with embarrassment, quickly turning and burying her face in a pillow and screaming into it, the noise muffling. He simply stood there, smirking with a raised eyebrow.

"Y' like it that much, lovie?" he coos tauntingly, ignoring her quick, shaky apologies after getting her face out of the pillows.

"I-I didn't mean to say that, I'm so sorry, I-"

He cuts her off by kissing her tenderly, grabbing her hips and pulling her up. She couldn't help but melt into his touch, kissing back softly and wrapping her arms around his neck.

It soon turned into a heated makeout session, and eventually, he had her ankles almost to her ears as he pounded into her.

"Such a fuckin' slut f'me," he grunts, his head tilting back in pleasure, all the stimulation combining. "such a perfect whore for daddy."

She whimpers at his dirty words, gripping his shoulders tightly as he roughly abuses her cunt and rearranges her insides. She really couldn't help what had come out of her mouth, but she got a feeling he was into it.

"What's my name?" he growled, and when she only replied with a noise of pleasure, he swatted her ass forcefully making her cry out. "What's my name?"

"Daddy!" she breathed out, and he slapped her ass again.

"I didn't hear you. Say it again!"

"Daddy!"

Her orgasm came over her like a freight train, her back arching and body convulsing. He rode out her orgasm with her, quickly cumming along with her as her pussy throbbed around his length.

As they both came down from their highs, panting and entwined in each other's arms, he couldn't help but smile as he looked down at her. She was in his arms, where she belonged, all nice and cozy in the blankets.

But then he realized: The ceremony.

"Shit," he panted, "C'mon, baby. We gotta go."

She nodded, quickly grabbing the dress that was now thrown somewhere on the floor and hastily putting it on, making sure her appearance was presentable. She wouldn't want to humiliate herself, let alone her boyfriend.

He also put on his clothes, and then came up from behind her as she stood in front of the mirror. He kissed her neck, smiling as he did. "So is daddy gonna be a new name, pretty girl?"

[sehodreams]

S: in which wonbin thinks he can do better.

Inspired from @//riizeblr and the question an anon did on their blog! Ego!wonbin

TW: noncon then extremely dubcon and noncon again, terms that can be triggering for plus size people, dark!wonbin, dark!riize, manipulation, p in v, no protection

Like always I wrote it on my phone so there's probably (definitely) mistakes.

Wonbin thought you weren't special at all, yeah sure, he thought you were cute as fuck and that your cheeks were so pretty he could pour all his cum on them, but he also thought that you weren't enough.

He was too good for you, too pretty, too talented, too successful. You were just his manager, and while he worked with gorgeous idols every day, he couldn't ignore you there in the room.

You weren't even his type, he used to like small skinny girls that were nice to show around. You were his height with heels and you were bigger everywhere, and when he says everywhere, it was everywhere.

You had those plump legs and that soft tummy that blouses showed. Always wearing those ugly smart pants that did nothing for your figure when you wore blazers.

But when you and the boys were alone, when you took off the blazer and left your soft hair fall in your shoulders and your tops showed your gorgeous, full tits, he couldn't help but watch you move around, as if you were a goddess.

And he had to kill those feelings, he just had to, it was embarrassing for him to get caught by the other members even looking at your direction when he definitely could do better.

Why you? Why?

"Wonbin, please, I'm talking to you" you said exhausted "you have to eat something, you're gonna faint in practice"

He shrugged, why would you care so much about him? Yeah, you were his manager, but all the other managers just made sure he had food in hand in case he felt like eating, no one cared if he slept and ate properly, they just wanted him to be pretty.

"Bother someone else" he said and continued looking at his phone. You rolled your eyes, left his cup of cut fruit and then walked to Anton, giving him another one.

He heard you laughing with Anton and got mad, why were you paying attention to other guys?

He wanted to pull your hand, take you to another room and fuck you until his cum dripped out of your pussy while you were talking to the others. He had to mark you, but mark you in a way only he knew you were his, no one else had to know, it would kill his reputation.

So, when everyone was drinking in the restaurant and he saw Sungchan get a little to handsy with you, hugging your arm and smiling while asking you to let them stay one more hour, he lost his last string.

"I don't feel good" he said, and he knew you would react immediately to that. You quickly left Sungchan aside and walked to him.

"What's wrong? Did you have vodka again? You know you can't hold your liquor" you said tired. He nodded, acting drunk but laughing on the inside.

"I'll take him home, I'll come back for you guys in an hour, and that's all, nothing of one more hour" the others cheered and you both were quickly in the car, you driving while he was on the seat next to you with a bag on his hands.

"Please don't throw up, we'll arrive in a second" Wonbin was so happy he couldn't hide his smile, he kept his head down to not show you his victorious grin.

You arrived in what felt like 2 min, you carried him on your shoulder and then, after opening the door, you left him in the couch and went for a glass of water.

You were trying to give him the water when he grabbed the glass, took a chug of it and then left it in the little table next to him.

"Better?" You asked while taking off his shoes.

"No" you lifted your head to look at him, weird out by his serious voice tone. He didn't lost a second and used your confusion to kiss you, he grabbed your head with force and didn't let you get away even when you clawed your nails in his hands.

"Stop Wonbin, you're drunk!" you said loudly when he pushed you to the floor and grinned himself on you.

"Can you at least shut up?" he choked you. Even when you cried harder he kept with his kisses. "Why are you crying? You should be grateful anyone is kissing you, you should be begging me to not stop" he kissed you again and you bit his lower lip woth force. He groaned of pain and his hand tightened on your neck.

That didn't stop him, he took off your ugly pants with one hand and cupped your pussy angry. "Fuck you're so soft" he pushed two of his finger into you, you couldn't help but moan, even when you didn't want to. "That's right, you like that don't you? So pretty, only for me, I'm the only one who thinks you're gorgeous, so why are you refusing me?" You listened his words and stopped moving. And if he was right? You thought. What if he was the only one who saw you differently?

He saw you thinking his words and smiled.

"You were made for me, I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you, God, I'm the only one who wants to touch you, do you think there's anyone out there who will look at you this way?" He moved his fingers inside you, making sure the palm of his hand was wet. He licked his palm and gave you the sweetest smile he had ever given you. "You're mine, right?" He asked you, you wanted to refuse, you wanted to scream, but if he was right? You kept repeating that in your head. You knew no one else saw you as pretty, you didn't think you were ugly, but he was the only one until now who actually showed his interest, even if it was in this way. "Say you're mine" he ordered.

You felt the tears fall down your cheeks and when he softened his grip on your throat you talked. "I'm yours"

Wonbin had the biggest smile you had ever seen on him, victorious, successful.

He pulled down his pants enough to free his cock and rubbed the tip into your clit. You closed your eyes and moaned. "The prettiest moans and the prettiest pussy from the prettiest girl" he said, almost whispering, into your ear before sinking into you. He wasn't that big, you could've easily taken him, maybe it was because you were so vulnerable, so you cried a few tears and clenched your hands. He gave you a peck on the lips. "My girl"

He fucked you slowly first, you felt yourself enjoying it after some time, his hips touched yours deliciously and you moaned into his lips. He liked to kiss while fucking, and you liked to not feel used for a second.

Fuck it started to feel so good for you in a second and you felt terrible as a result, sick, but still earned for his dick to keep moving. He just had a way of making you forget the nauseas the sex and guilt made you feel.

He touched a spot that made you close your eyes and moan. That dick made you lose any coherent thought your brain had, replacing it with fog and tears of pleasure. Because you wanted that, right? You wanted to be with him, right?

"I'll fill this sweet cunt, do you want it there? Or where do you want it?" Oh, he gave you a choice? So sweet of him. You sighed, you didn't want him to cum inside, he wasn't wearing a condom and you weren't taking your birth control.

"Not inside, anywhere, but not inside, please" you begged. He laughed.

"Did you really think you had a choice?" He whispered and moved his hips harder, you were too stimulated to hear his words and trusted him to not cum inside. But he did what he wanted, like always, so he came inside when you got tighter while having your orgasm.

"You're so gorgeous filled with my cum" he kissed you, and you believed him, maybe you looked better filled with his cum.

His body fell over yours, you felt his breath next to your ear and you just stared to the ceiling, not believing what had just happened, a bit broken. He, on the other hand, was rejoicing, feeling like the king of the world.

You both heard voices from outside the door and rushed to dress. You didn't want the boys to see you so vulnerable, and he didn't want the others to see he fucked you.

"I brought them home" Shotaro said with a smile, he seemed tipsy but fresh and went to his room. "Thank you Taro" you said and grabbed your purse. "Wonbin is sleeping, please don't make too much noise" Wonbin had ran to his room and you were alone in the living room. "Good night boys, I'll go home" you left the apartment in a rush, you just wanted to go home and wash yourself. The others were too drunk to notice how weirdly you walked, and Wonbin was smiling in his bed, hearing you close the apartment door.

This was just the start.

[sorceresssundries]

Gale sketches by @orangekittyenergy <3

CHAPTER 1 (of 2)

LINK TO CHAPTER 2 - NSFW

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: Set post-game where Tav did not feature in Gale's troubles in Baldur's Gate. A whip-cracking, fedora wearing, Indiana Jones inspired mini-adventure - where Professor Dekarios is tempted out of the classroom, and on yet another perilous quest. (Chapter 2 out soon)

Warnings: Chapter 1 is SFW, Chapter 2... less so.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Just a bit of a fun based on the Gale as Indiana comparisons. Also, he looks like a young Harrison Ford, how could I not? This is not the stuff I'm used to writing! But it's been enjoyable and nice to try something new.

Her forest was dying. Thaes’yána, a sacred patch of overgrowth within Elltavia’s home, had been under protection for so long that the Rangers of the forest no longer knew the reason why. Its guardianship had been passed down from mother to daughter for generations, and all Elltavia had known since being a girl was that entry was forbidden, and it was to be protected from outsiders. 

But now, an arcane rot had settled deep within, and was infecting further and further outside of its bounds. Animals, once serene, were being driven to madness if they got too close for too long. Among the forest-dwellers, whispers of unrest travelled, tales of violence and theft staining the once peaceful community. The responsibility had fallen to her to find help, and she had travelled far to ensure she got it. Just like her beloved forest, if the end was near, she would not be going gently. 

Her quest had led her somewhere unexpected, to the shadowy recesses of a sprawling lecture hall. She was nestled in the farthest corner, seeking refuge from the professor's unrelenting enthusiasm. From her observations, his class appeared to cleave into two distinct factions: the diligent scribes, feverishly scribbling down every word that spilled from his lips, struggling to keep pace with his monologuing, and the other group, who seemed utterly disinterested in the lecture material. Their pens lay dormant as they indulged in a different kind of attention; lingering onto his every subtle gesture and every inflection in his voice with wide-eyed fascination. There were a number of Tieflings in the class whose tails were swishing with telling enthusiasm. She imagined if she looked into their notepads, they would be laden with love hearts and romantic doodles.

She knew who Gale Dekarios was, of course. Word travelled, especially when one had command over birds to receive and deliver news from across the realm. Even as far away as she had been from the chaos and fire of Baldur’s Gate - she had taken up moonlit vigil to pray to Mielekki that the heroes' aim be true and their hope evergreen. And now she was sitting here, staring impatiently at one of the very people who had pervaded her prayers. He was more… academic that she’d expected, in his tweed blazer and bow tie. Rounded glasses perched on his nose, occasionally slipping down during moments of particular ardour, prompting him to deftly push them back up with his finger. 

His talking seemed to go on for an extraordinary amount of time, but maybe it just seemed that way because she could feel each precious second slip through her fingers like burning sand. Eventually, the class poured out with a mixture of yawns and giggles and she approached his desk as he scribbled frantically on the blackboard.

“Your dates are wrong.” she said. He flinched slightly, making the chalk jump.He sighed and wiped away his slip, having lost his train of thought. 

“Excuse me?” He turned to face her, his scholarly face frowning and making the lines between his eyes more pronounced. He looked much older when he was frustrated, she thought with amusement. 

She pointed at his scribbles; “The fighting ended in 1421 sure, but the peace treaty wasn’t finalised until the following year.” Her eyes met his, and she was struck by the depth of them. “You may want to correct your students' next lecture. Well… the ones who were actually taking notes.” 

She briefly cast her eyes over the picture frames on his desk. There was one of a formal looking woman with his tanned skin and warm eyes sitting on a sunlit balcony by the sea, and another of an unimpressed looking Tressym perched atop a pile of books.

It was the larger group photo that caught her attention, frozen in a moment of chaos.

In the centre of the frame, a flame-red Tiefling woman was mid-laughter, proudly displaying a crudely drawn portrait of a white-haired elf, the illustration nestling within an odd-shaped gap amongst the group. Behind her, a slight woman with a silver braid, was in the midst of being lifted by a huge, tattooed wood-elf, their collaborative efforts evident in their attempt to fit her into the picture. Next to them, an older woman in druid armour gestured animatedly, seemingly scolding a large, bald man who was earnestly attempting to position what appeared to be a hamster at the forefront of the group. Meanwhile, Gale, with his finger poised mid-sentence, was engaged in conversation with a handsome, horned man who stood with arms folded, seemingly annoyed. Amidst the chaos, only a Githyanki woman remained composed, her unsmiling gaze fixed directly on the camera, unaffected by the surrounding mayhem.

They were the heroes she had seen in the papers, but here they looked less like champions of the Gate and more like a dysfunctional, loving family. She much preferred this version of them. 

“I was not aware I was being monitored today.” He took in her appearance, her dark braided hair was pulled up and away from her face, and she wore travelling robes and a worn cloak. She definitely wasn’t an academic, he thought. Though she certainly seemed knowledgeable on history. Her eyes looked much older than she did - They were the colour of summer leaves slipping into autumn and sparkled when she spoke. With her being an elf, it made sense that she was probably a lot older than she appeared. 

“How can I help you, miss…” 

“Elltavia Kidd’Alka.” Her tone was brusk, efficient. “I won’t waste time with small-talk. I’m here to request some assistance on an urgent matter.” 

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, as though this was a regular interruption to his workday. “Ah, well you can tell the guild..

“I’m not with the guild.”

His frown deepened, “Fine, the harpers…”

“Nope, not them either.” 

“Then please Miss Kidd… 

“I’m a ranger stationed in the High Forest. My home is being infected by a blight which threatens the lives of many who live there.  It is believed the cause is of arcane origin. I need your help to fix it.” She dumped a heavy, jangling pouch on his desk. “I think you’ll find this should be adequate payment.”

This woman did not mess around, he thought. She was refreshing, although he would probably like her more if she actually let him speak.

“I am a professor, not a hireling. I’m afraid I cannot help.”

“Completely understandable, Professor.” She offered warmly “After everything you’ve been through I can understand why you would prefer a quieter, more relaxed lifestyle. Besides…” She said with an exaggerated, compassionate sigh. “You’re not getting any younger.”

This appeared to have touched a nerve. “Listen, Miss Kidd’Alka - I'm sorry for your troubles, but my answer is no. Now if you’d excuse me, I have much to do before my next class. Apparently my dates need amending” He gestured with his arm for her to leave, and she tilted her head with curiosity. She was enjoying him flustered, and she did not move.

“You must feel very lucky to have such a comfortable position here at the academy. Especially with the influx of ancient artefacts that have been added to its custodianship since your arrival.” Her lips tilted at the sudden stiffening of his posture.

He remained silent, eyes narrowing as she sat down in his chair and put her muddy boots up on his desk. She removed a knife from a strap at her thigh, flashing her toned, supple skin and began to peel an apple which had been left for him by a particularly devoted student. He felt a familiar, but dusty feeling stir within him at the flash of her leg. His hand automatically flew to his chest, before remembering that was no longer necessary. Old scars run deep.

“It’s so strange how the discovery of these artefacts always seems to coincide with your sabbatical leave.” Her tone was playful, innocent, but her eyes were mischievous. She slowly let the peel fall away, her blade so sharp she barely had to stroke the fruit with the edge of it. She wasn’t even looking at what she was doing, her gaze was fixed fiercely on him. 

“Your implication is wasted here, I can assure you.”

“My apologies, Professor Dekarios. I meant no disrespect.” She took a sharp bite of the piece of apple speared at the end of her knife, and he watched with fascination and derision as she swallowed, the juice trickling down to her chin. “I just thought the rumoured artefact causing the problem may be of interest to you and your academy. But, never mind. I hear there’s a ex-Sharran cleric who is fond of adventuring, maybe she can help me out.” She could practically hear the thoughts bouncing around in his head as she stood up to leave. 

She was almost at the door when he gave a loud sigh. 

“Wait. Take a seat. I’ll see if I can get my lectures covered.”

She turned to grin at him, and threw the rest of the apple across the room and into a bin with alarming accuracy.

“Leave some milk out for your cat, professor. You may be gone a while.”

The journey back to her forest had been arduous, mainly down to the fact Gale could not get the elvish pronunciation of her name right and so had resorted to calling her ‘Kidd.’ Frustrating for a woman who was one hundred and forty years older than him. Luckily, his useful knack for teleportation meant that at least the journey was shorter than expected. 

They made it to the forest by the following morning, and Elltavia finally relaxed as the sound of songbirds and swishing trees soothed her tired feet and weary soul. She was home again. The plush canopy above them provided respite from the sun, but not the heat, and it wasn’t long into their journey before Gale had switched his slightly faded wizard’s robes into something more appropriate. 

He now wore a loose, tan coloured shirt, unbuttoned enough to display a smattering of chest hair and what looked like a faded, circular scar. His tight brown trousers were tucked into leather boots held up by a belt laden with supplies and potions, and he had a satchel slung over his shoulders. Atop his head was a weather beaten fedora. Typically, she was not a fan of men in fedoras, but the way it kept his hair back off his face and shaded his handsome features was an unexpected and pleasant contradiction to the professor she had first met. But, it was the sinuous coil of a whip holstered at his side, its braided leather worn smooth by countless flicks and flourishes, that caught Tav’s attention the most. 

“A whip?” She asked curiously, trying not to let any of the thoughts it inspired creep into her voice.

“An enchanted whip.” He replied smugly. “Much more useful than a staff, comes in handy from time to time.” To make his point, he unhooked it from his belt, swished it around his head once and then cracked it at a low hanging branch ahead of them. The tail of it curled around tight and sparked with electricity, zapping the dry wood into flame. It fell to the ground with a burning crash. He looked very pleased with himself as he extinguished the fire with a quick blast of conjured water. 

“Well…” She said in the smoky silence. “That was completely unnecessary” 

The mood shifted as they got deeper into the humid, overgrown forest. Leaves and foliage that was lush green and danced in the breeze suddenly became duller, the air stagnant and unbending. Birdsong had hushed, and the once vibrant heartbeat of the forest had suddenly stuttered and stopped.

They reached the centre of the blight, hidden amidst the greenery, to find an ancient temple almost completely swallowed by forest. Its crumbling skeleton had merged with creeping moss. Vines twisted round it like the lithe bodies of a hundred snakes, gripping and squeezing out any remaining life, pushing their way through the stone work until it was prised apart to fall to the forest floor. It once would have been grand, but now looked hollow and haunted. Elltavia grabbed Gale’s arm before he got any closer.

“Wait.” she murmured, crouching slightly. She drew out the sinuous bow from her back and notched an arrow. Her ears flicked like that of a cat surrounded by too much silence. There was something stirring, she could almost hear motes of threatening magic slinking together through the blighted air. Like heat gathering to form a storm. She could practically taste the thunder that had yet to crack.

“Expecting trouble?” Gale asked, hand now hovering over the whip at his belt. 

She did not have time to answer before a skeletal figure, clad in tattered monks robes lunged at them from the shadows. His hollowed out eye sockets glowed with an eerie blue light, and his bony fingers clutched an ancient staff, carved with runes that pulsed faintly with dark energy. As it moved, the sound of creaking bones and whispers of necromantic incantation surrounded it like diseased air. 

With a raise of its staff, a surge of necrotic magic crackled towards them. Gale dove to the side, rolling behind a fallen log, while Elltavia nimbly leaped into a nearby tree, her bow in hand.

She released an arrow in one swift motion. It whistled through the air and struck the skeleton in the chest. For a moment, the blue light in its eyes flickered, but it remained standing -  unbroken and unfazed.

The guardian turned its hollow gaze towards her and began chanting in an ancient, guttural language. The ground beneath the tree where she perched started to rot and decay. With cat-like agility, she jumped to another tree just as the first began to crumble.

Gale seized the moment, sprinting forward and pulling his whip from his belt. With a flick of his wrist, the whip wrapped around the monk's legs, pulling it off balance. The skeleton crashed to the ground, the blue light in its eyes dimming as it struggled to free itself.

The ranger leaped into action, her bow discarded in favour of a pair of daggers. With feline grace, she landed above the guardian and plunged her daggers into its eye sockets, and the dimming light was finally extinguished. 

“Nice whip work.  You get much practice with that thing?” Elltavia approached him, breathless and sweating, and blew away some dust which had settled against his neck. 

“Not as much as i’d like, Kidd.” He said, brushing away some blood from her lip with his thumb. “I’m just making this up as I go along.” There was a moment where their ragged breaths mingled, and their eyes held each other before she turned with a smirk, and headed towards the entrance the skeleton had been guarding. Gale realised, watching her sheath her daggers and count her arrows, that he was in more trouble than anticipated. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he wasn’t sure the fight was the cause of it.

They made their way down ancient, crumbling stairs flooded by spectral light from an imperceptible source, and Gale started to feel queasy and breathless. It was as though something beneath his skin, in his bones, was being sapped from him. It was a feeling he recognised. 

“Sussur” he murmured, and he noticed vein-like ridges running along the walls, thin and faintly pulsing with a moonlight-blue glow. He ran the pads of his fingers over them, and felt a dull burning sensation on his fingertips.

“it’s in the walls. Incredible. It is no ordinary magic emanating from this place.” He held his hand out flat and attempted to conjure a small flame in his palm. There was a crackle, but nothing more. “My magic won’t work here.” For the first time since meeting Elltavia, he felt unsure of himself. It had taken time, patience, an orb of devastation and a mind flayer tadpole for him to even consider that he was of any use to anyone with his spellcasting ability. It had taken his friends to talk him down from martyrdom, and then Godhood. They had  prised his own destruction away from him and cast it into the Chionthar. They had saved him, but some damage is irreparable, and some wounds will always scar.

“I didn’t come to you for your magic.” Elltavia offered behind him. “I sought you out for your knowledge, and bravery. I wanted the professor, not the wizard.”

He didn’t turn to meet her eyes, but his heart fluttered slightly at her words. He steeled himself, thought of the bravery of the Ranger who was fighting for her home, and pushed open the stone door at the foot of the staircase to reveal a giant, circular chamber. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and aged stone. The walls were smooth, carved with meticulous precision by hands long gone. Covering every inch of the surface were runes and writing, each symbol etched deeply and filled with a faint pulsing luminescence that danced over their skin. 

“Amazing”

As Gale worked his way around the room, he took out a pair of glasses to help study the variety of texts carved about the place. "I’ve read about this before. A long time ago. An order of ancient monks, secretive and nomadic in nature," he mused, and Elltavia observed the delicate dance of his fingers tracing the inscriptions, as though seeking enlightenment through tactile communion. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow, causing his spectacles to slip, and the subtle readjustment sent a shiver down her spine.

“Like the one outside?” She tried to draw on what little knowledge she had. She had limited experience with monks in her many years. Certainly she had never come across any in the forest before. 

“Not like that one.” He said frowning in concentration. “That one was dead. Re-animated, as a trap.”

He explored the ruins with an elegance befitting a sage, a paradox of scholar and adventurer, warrior and pacifist, man and mage. She found him fascinating. Turning, he caught her in the act of studying him, her curiosity laid bare.

“Something caught your attention?” His gaze was burning, and his mouth was a cocky smile.

She did not blush, Elltavia never blushed, but she did pause long enough for him to move on without hearing her sharp answer.

"They are custodians, seekers of wisdom, guardians of ancient lore, and protector of magic" His voice was low with reverent contemplation. “There are very few of them, and legend has it the ones left are immortals. Chosen by the Gods to protect and serve the precious arcane knowledge which so often gets corrupted or destroyed.” 

For a brief second, his hand instinctively moves to his chest, to rest on the faded scar. He suddenly felt like a heretic defiling a sacred temple.

“You seem to know a lot about it.” She folded her arms with suspicion.

“Well.. I didn’t get tenure for nothing, Kidd.” His eyes flash at her with confident assurance. “These texts imply that they dedicated themselves so completely to their cause, to their life of protection, that they completely cast out all other distractions. They undergo a Rite, to prove their single-minded dedication. Apparently very few passed it.” He tried not to let creeping agitation wrap itself into his voice, if there was a test or a challenge to be taken for proving worth - he felt as though he was the wrong man for the job. He had cast aside the most luring and precious of temptations mortals could ever dream of. It was a test he’d taken twice, and only passed once. He didn’t want his weaknesses laid bare in front of him again. 

“What happens if they failed?”

 His answer was simple, but he feared what would come next would be less so.

“They died.”

[tanith-rhea]

Only Pretending #7

Word count: 2.9k Author's note: Ok... this one has been a long time coming, I know, and I'm SORRY!!! Life's crazy and I'm unreliable. I hope you all enjoy it because I sure did a thousand changes on this one and maybe a plot point or two in the structure, so... my fingers are crossed so hard that there's no blood running through them. I want to thank @alder-saan for the support and feedback, I wouldn't bring that particular thing up too much until you helped me realize it is more important than I think and the reader doesn't have the same context I do. Kisses!

Larissa’s lips were cool, but her tongue was warm and wine-sweet, and soon enough all your senses were her. Her skin was hot when your hands went to her face and neck, slowly slipping to her shoulders underneath her robe. She hadn’t worn perfume yet, so her scent was slowly fading shower products and her. She was all-consuming. Your thoughts, senses and yearning were all hers.

She stood up with your face in her hands, never leaving your lips and dextrously sat on your lap. She towered over you, there was nothing else but her, and you knew there would never be something after her.

“Do you think we have time…” you started, out of breath and a little broken. She was planting long, reverent kisses on your cheeks, eyelids and forehead, stopping on the crease between your eyebrows and smoothing it away. You wanted all of her now, it was so much it didn’t even count as want; you needed her.

You felt the press of her smile and a warm puff of air as she chuckled.

“It depends on how fast you can shower and your thoughts on arriving fashionably late,” her voice was an amused rumble as she distanced herself a bit.

You would never make it in time. You knew it, but you also couldn’t let go of her. Her thighs underneath your hands were the definition of power, you felt dizzy thinking of them squeezing your face until your vision faded and all you could taste was her.

With a frustrated growl, you grabbed her ass and pulled her impossibly closer, resting your forehead on her chest. She had the audacity to chuckle at you and her fingers started a soothing pattern between your shoulder blades.

“What’s so funny?” you half grumbled.

You felt her laugh a bit more before saying, “Nothing. You’re just adorably impatient, I didn’t think you had It in you.”

“Didn’t last night prove I had?”

“You were far too considerate and kind, last night.”

You lifted your face to look her in the eye, unable to mask the tiniest of smirks.

“So, if I’d had my way with you, you’d have been surprised?”

“What makes you think it would be your way?” she cocked a brow and returned your smirk.

“I don’t know…” she gasped when your fingers sunk into her flesh, her expression quickly changing to show how affected she was, “But I seem to remember you being very pliant yesterday.” You kissed her lips chastely, feeling the electric sparks from Larissa’s pent-up desire around you.

Her fingers on your shoulders would likely leave prints. Good thing you’d be wearing a blazer over your top. You planted one last quick kiss on her lips before nudging her to let you up. She did so with an eye-roll to unsuccessfully hide her almost pout, and you had to bite your lip not to smile too much before leaving for the bathroom.

When you came back, Larissa was sitting at the vanity, doing her make-up. She was wearing a long-sleeved, silver mermaid dress that hugged her body just right before loosening lightly just below her thighs. She had a darker shade of her signature lipstick on, a burgundy red that almost mimicked the colour of your three-piece ensemble and wore silver jewellery and heels the colour of her nails and lipstick. She looked exquisite.

You knew she was watching you in the mirror while you let your robe fall to the ground, exposing your bare back and lace panties. You smiled to yourself at her audible stillness and started dressing. First your trousers, then the blouse, which you turned to give her a better view of you putting on, and deliberately buttoned up the slowest possible, eyes fixed on its buttons and your skin. When you looked up, her eyes were on the same track as yours had been, just as you finished covering your chest.

“Do I have something on me?” you pretended to search your top, looking for possible stains and the like.

“Do get over yourself, girl,” Larissa faked annoyance.

“Girl? I’ll have you know I’m almost thirty!”

“Don’t remind me,” the humour in her voice pulled you in, going over to her and sitting on the narrow bench.

“What? Not keen on getting old?” you didn’t mean to sound so soft.

“I am already,” her small smile had fondness but also something else in it, her searching eyes dissecting your every reaction.

“Would you like me to call you Miss Weems?” you breathed, hand tracing the bare skin of her clavicles, up to her neck.

You’d never heard her growl before. It was addicting from the very first time. She reached for your knee and waist and swiftly brought you to her lap.

“Do not ruin my make-up,” she warned, matter-of-factly, before deftly undoing your trouser buttons and pulling down its zipper.

“What are you doing? We have a party in fifteen minutes!” you could not care less about the damned party as her fingers unceremoniously slid inside your clothes and between your folds.

You gasped and gripped her shoulders with white-knuckled desperation. Her gaze bore holes deep into yours, watching every faint bat of your lashes and twitch of your eyebrows.

“I think we’ll be done by then,” she murmured in your ear and sucked at the lobe while two fingers dipped into you.

You didn’t realize before how wet you were from simply teasing her, but as she moved inside you with ease and brought her fingers to your clit, they were drenched.

She kissed and sucked the skin from your jaw to the base of your neck, lowering to your chest, exposed by the low cut of your top. You reached for her hair, dying to weave your fingers into her updo, but she gripped your wrist with a nimble movement and held it behind your back.

“I remember someone saying something about a party?” her mock pensive expression as she stroked at just the right speed was infuriating and intoxicating at the same time. You had imagined being at Larissa’s mercy many times, but if this small demonstration already had you undone, you might not survive her full attention for a night.

She kissed your sternum and quickened her fingers; you felt your thigh muscles spasm and lost control of your hips. She left your hand to hold you in place and took advantage when you arched your back in a breathless attempt to relieve tension to nuzzle her way underneath your loose blouse. You made a sound that was half a whimper and half a gasp as her lips closed around your nipple, warm and sure, and she hummed. She made soothing circles with her thumb on your hip and chuckled when your head found the vanity’s mirror and pushed it, inclining the entire thing and knocking several make-up supplies over.

You huffed, indignant that she found mirth in your suffering, so close to release but kept at bay by her bursts of speed interrupted by sudden gentler touches.

“Larissa, please,” you mewled, propped back into your elbow, every cell of your body howling for relief.

“Begging already? It’s been five minutes, dearest,” she released your nipple only to give it a peck before coming up to stare dangerously into your eyes.

“Please, this is torture…” your voice was little more than a whisper.

“I remember you having no qualms torturing me,” she growled, pinching your clit lightly. It was too much, and your eyes watered as you squealed in surprise. “Standing there with almost nothing, tracing fingers on what’s mine-“

“Am I?” you battled to get the words out with almost no air.

“I would think it’s a bit obvious,” she circled her fingers on your hood, the way she noticed that made you melt.

“Then take care of me…”

You could almost feel the thunderous flash in her eyes strike you as she lunged for your lips and kissed you hard. There were no more soothing thumbs or gentle touches. Her hand gripped your hip forcefully against the vanity and her fingers pressed hard and fast until you were choking on the little air you had and screaming Larissa’s name.

You couldn’t say for how long you came. The first thing you saw when you came back to your senses was Larissa licking her fingers and cleaning the lipstick around her lips. How she could look so put together while doing it would be unfair if it wasn’t her, but she was perfect, so, what else to expect?

“I’m afraid you ruined your knickers,” she noted in a sweet tone.

“Oh, fuck… I’m worse than a teenager…”

“Hardly, dear. I would help you clean up if we had time, but someone did exactly the opposite as I told them to and now, I have to start again,” she faked annoyance as she reached into the mess of things above the vanity and ignored your indignant huff, only smirking as you went to change your panties.

She’d be the death of you.

While putting on the garnet ring and earrings you brought to match your outfit, a thought occurred to you.

“What do you think we trade jewellery?”

“Hum?” she walked over, surveying you from head to toe and back up, swallowing once she got your face again.

“You have silver, I have red… we could colour coordinate our outfits by swapping.”

“You just want to wear my neckless, don’t you?” that might be part of the reason, yes. But it was a very beautiful diamond choker, thin and simple but also screaming ownership — honestly, that was the main reason behind it all, for everyone to know you wanted nothing more than be hers (or that you were, weren’t you?).

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

When both of you were ready — Larissa having done your make-up while teasing you for looking “like my sweet little pet” with her necklace — you joined the party.

You had no idea when all those people arrived, but the foyer was packed. Some of the guests you were introduced to earlier were around. Mr Itt and his wife, Gomez’s brother, Fester, who seemed to be talking with a very intriguing woman of appearance quite similar to his, and grandmama’s sister, Miss Sloom. But mostly strangers, strange ones at that. It was incredible.

You spotted mummies, gorgons, sirens, and all manner of outcasts. Some of whom you had no idea what they identified as.

“Wow, so they weren’t lying!” a strange drawling voice sounded from the side and a broad-shouldered, smiling man made his way through some people to get to you and Larissa. “When Phillie told me you were taken tonight I almost choked on my champagne.”

You guessed this man went to school with Larissa, and his convinced demeanour and attempt at an LA accent made you gag. Why were all her former colleagues pricks? Gomez was the only exception to the rule until now. If everybody else was like this, you couldn’t blame Larissa for liking the only decent person in the bunch.

“Samuel, how nice seeing you here,” you had to disguise your snort with a cough, “This is y/n, the woman I believe Ophelia referred to.”

“Ophelia?”

“Morticia’s sister, and also an old friend,” she explained easily.

“Pleasure to meet a real person,” he extended his hand for you to shake and looked ever cockier, somehow.

“For fuck’s sake, what is your problem?!”

Larissa and Samuel seemed surprised by your little outburst.

“Why do you have to be such a dick? I’ve never met you before and I can’t stand you already. Have you nothing better to do with your night? Is your sense of humour so underdeveloped that you have to resort to cheap commentary to amuse yourself? Are you what, twelve?” you took Larissa’s hand and started walking through the crowd, “Leave us alone, and don’t you dare open your mouth to talk about Larissa because I will find you and I will make you pee in fear like the toddler you act like.”

At your raised voice, some of the guests turned to look at what was happening, but you were already leaving towards the buffet table. You walked past Lurch carrying champagne glasses on the way and thanked whoever was listening for the alcohol.

“What was all that?” relief washed through your body as you heard Larissa’s amused question. She wasn’t displeased, perfect.

“I’m so sick of people from your school days acting like pig-headed kids. What was going on in the 80s that everyone seems to be a bigoted imbecile?”

Larissa only laughed, and close to her, you heard someone you couldn’t see snort.

“Not all of them were bad, you just weren’t so lucky to meet many good ones,” Larissa explained, “However, Samuel was always a bit extra. Wanted to be an actor when we were students, I believe.”

“Do you think he is?”

“With that accent? A very bad one, maybe,” a very distinct monotone joined your conversation. Wednesday, Enid and grandmama stepped closer. Enid and the Addams matriarch filling their plates with food and having a heated discussion about… animal abuse?

“You were listening?” you asked, you could swear she wasn’t around for the commotion.

“I listen to him every year, and every other one as well. I’m sorry, but principal Weems is being unnecessarily dismissive as per usual; they’re intolerable.”

“But everyone is to you, isn’t that right?” Larissa’s tone betrayed her meaning, and she looked very pleased with herself when looking at Enid just a few feet away.

Wednesday rolled her eyes but didn’t look Larissa in the face, instead chancing a… fond? Glance at the pair with her. It occurred to you that this was the first event outside the school where they were officially together.

“I guess I understand why you wanted us to come then,” you really did, you weren’t far from brooding in a corner as well if people would be so unsavoury the whole night.

“You two are exhausting,” Larissa shook her head, unable to mask her amusement, and joined grandmama and Enid.

You watched the people around for a beat, old acquaintances reuniting and close friends giggling, but both you and Wednesday weren’t the type to beat around the bush.

“How’s Enid doing?”

“Thank-you-for-what-you-did.”

You smiled — she did something close — and gestured for her to speak first.

“Thank you for talking with her. She told me,” Wednesday sounded surer this time, her posture seemed straighter, and her eyes were trained at the crowd, “I thought she wouldn’t come when I left. She was smiling too much and acting more excited than normal.”

“And is she ok?” you searched for her eyes, she wasn’t one not to rise to a challenge and looked at you pointedly, “I was afraid her parents would come somehow, your mother invited a lot of people.”

“I asked her not to,” she confessed, looking at Enid, whom you saw was making Larissa chuckle and grandmama cackle, “She’s the bane of my existence, but she seems to love me oddly enough.”

“Mothers and daughters,” you shrugged. It was good to be reminded that Morticia was just a person sometimes, “It’ll get better in a few years.”

“Hello, there!!” Enid chirped when she joined you both and went to hug you again. That was the standard Enid greeting, you came to understand after only a small number of weeks working at Nevermore. And it was a blessing to the world, her hugs somehow had the quality of a bear’s without being deadly — most of the time.

“Hi, dear, how are you?”

“Oh, you know, basking in the glory of being right,” she smirks tightly to contain her previous smile, tossing her hair with a quirked brow, “I just convinced Dorie to walk to alligator to the swamp twice a week. She told me he’s been in the cellar for decades, the poor thing!”

“Dorie?” you didn’t know anyone else lived in the mansion.

“Me, silly, Eudora Addams,” grandmama joined the circle, “This ridiculous girl says it wants to go outside and pestered me enough that I just figured why not. Anything to shut her up,” she shrugged, faking annoyance and with a last look towards Wednesday, the woman left.

“She likes you,” Wednesday, in turn, seemed mystified.

While you were talking, Larissa had apparently wandered off. Surely, she would have told you if she was going somewhere, so being stolen by an old associate was the most logical reason you could think of.

Excusing yourself of the girls, you started searching the party for tall and stunning, but she wasn’t there. It was easy spotting her in a crowd since few matched her stature and Lurch was the only one whose shoulders you could see above the bodies.

You decided to look in the rooms around, going from the dining room to the drawing and then the study. Nearing the door to the last, you heard a muffled conversation, and a particularly irate voice caught your attention. Larissa’s temper was unmistakable.

“You have to be kidding me! You are the entire reason why we didn’t work out!” you heard her spat. Apparently, she was having a discussion with a previous… lover?

The second voice was too low for you to understand what it said, but the hairs at the nape of your neck told the tale quite accurately. You knew exactly who was behind that door and wouldn’t keep standing there hearing them talk like a nosy aunt thirsting for gossip.

However, when you opened the door you didn’t expect to see the woman who had you reduced to a breathless mess kissing another person.

Tags are as follows: @anti-bright-places, @pro-weems-places, @the-bagel24, @regalbootie, @tundra1029, @thoroughly-confused-kiwi-blog, @lilsmeaux, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @alder-saan, @jelly-frogss, @enchantressb, @imean-its-just-me, @lvinhs, @iloveyall-18, @kimiinou, @jeweleegrey (still not tagging, WHY???), @a-queen-and-her-throne, and last but not least, @one-pining-queer!

Chapter Eight

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, introduction.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, mentions of death, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, mafia - type organisations, eating disorders, depression, heavy mentions of gruesome death, abortions.

song to listen to when reading this: Dolcenera, Fabrizio de Andrè.

Black that carries away, that carries away the way,

black not seen in an entire lifetime,

so sweetblack, black, black that beats you up, that knocks down the doors.

The first time he ever saw her, she was crying. No, not necessarily crying, she was in a weird state of shock and terror. She was angry, more than anything. She looked like a demonic bunny, she was sweet and gentle but the look of pure rage on her face nearly scared him. His captain asked him to give her a ride to her house, it wasn't safe for her to drive in that condition. He thought she was his daughter he never knew about. Take one of the cars, he said, would you please get her out of here? He sensed something strange in his voice. Worry or, perhaps, guilt. What happened? Who was she, was she in danger? Why? The captain turned towards her, slightly slouching to get at her eye level. He couldn't really hear what he was saying, something along the lines of 'I trust him' and 'you don't worry, he'll get you home'. She looked at him like she was gonna jump on him and eat him alive, bite his neck and rip his skull open. Then she looked up at Ghost like he was going to be her next victim, right after his captain. She stood silent, fists curled with rage at her sides. She was small, short. She had a bag with her, large enough to fit a laptop. Did she work there? She was wearing smart attire, a blazer jacket a turtleneck, shiny black shoes. Was she a doctor? A lawyer? She's too young to be a lawyer, how old is she, 22? 24?

Black of bad luck, that kills and moves on,

black like the misfortune of making a den where there’s no moon, moon,

black of bitterness.

'This way' that's all he said. She was following him, dead serious. This is what weird nightmares that hunt you for the entire week look like. She walked with her back straight, she walked fast. Who is this, he continued to ask himself. He couldn't ask her for sure, he didn't want to die just yet. How come I never saw you? What did you do?

'Are you alright?' he finally asked when they approached one of the black trucks in the parking lot of the base. She spoke for the first time. Her voice was of someone who had been screaming and crying. 'Drive' she said, her voice raspy but her tone steady and firm. He watched her close the car door on the passenger side, she kept looking at the base behind them. Is someone after you? What happened, are you being followed is that why is not safe for you to get home by yourself? He did as she said, without replying. Her eyes stood fixated on the base that kept getting farther away from them as they took off, driving towards the city center. If she lived there, it would probably take them about 20 minutes to get there, through the desert. She seemed to slightly relax once they were deep in the deserted street, going just 10km/h over the speed limit. No one was on the road. She had her hands pressed between her thighs, to prevent them from shaking. She looked straight ahead of her. If he didn't kept glancing at her, he could have sworn she was a ghost.

He never managed to know what had happened, nor who she was. She vanished. No one ever spoke about that evening and he never saw her again. That is, until today.

notes: he could have sworn she was a Ghost babyyyy. brace yourselves this story will be long, I have a lot to say. my name is mare, first of all, i use she/her pronouns and english is not my first language!! I have no idea how to work with Tumblr, please bare with me I'm new, I don't know anything, teach me... the story is ongoing, however I have many chapters prepared. also, everything is fictional, every place, person, mission, everyone is fake. if you see similarities with the real world, it's a coincidence. these characters are not real. there will be a lot of detail, new people, characters I made up along with the original ones and notes at the end of each chapter. I do not consent to this work being re-published or translated. if you don't like how I portray the characters, don't read the story. if I make mistakes, do tell me. please read the trigger warnings because it might get violent and I am not responsible for your media consumption. the main character is an original character which I created, she has a name and is described physically in detail. enjoyy.

notes: song concept: "Dolcenera" is about a tryst that never came about due to the disruption of a major flood, such as occurred in Genoa in 1970. The term "dolcenera" refers to the dual nature of water - sweet when it is pure and life-giving, and black when it is fouled and out of control as in a flood.

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 8

Jessie exited the plain and quickly hailed a cab. She got the address to the Cameron's Bahamian resort from Sarah and had it saved in her text messages. She texted the pogues to let them know she had landed and was headed to the house. What was she going to say when she got there? She had no clue, but she knew she would think of something. She's always been quick on her feet. That's what intimidated Rafe so much in the first place: her ability to word vomit so perfectly she could talk her way out of anything... and she could also talk anyone into anything.

Jessie took a cab to the house where she would meet Rafe. She expected plenty of security, but she knew just what would get her in the doors. No sneaking, no hiding, just words and confidence was all she needed, and those were her two favorite weapons.

She finally pulled up to her location, truly astounded with the sheer size of the mansion sitting directly on the beach. She didn't expect a little hut on the beach, but this... this was extremely... kook. She laughed a little under her breath and began to play with the skin on her fingers, just looking at the mansion in front of her made her just a little nervous. But she had to stay calm, she was on a mission.

The cab rolled up to the gate. What Rafe and none of the security would realize (hopefully) is that Jessie's phone was tapped. Before she left, Pope did what Pope does best and engineered a program on her phone to be able to track her and listen to and record their conversations. The Pogues had dealt with enough cops to understand that they were always going to need definitive proof, hence the phone tapping. They wanted to make certain that any confession or agreement— or argument— was caught on tape. JJ secretly just wanted to make sure Jessie was safe, as much as it would hurt him and even make him a little uncomfortable, he wanted to hear every conversation between Jessie and Rafe.

"Can I help you?" The Bahamian security guard spoke in his thick accent as he got eye level with the driver.

"I'm here to drop off the miss." The taxi driver stated. The driver had no clue what was going on, and that's how Jessie wanted it. It's best not to get anyone involved that doesn't have to be.

"Uh, Mr. Cameron were not expecting any visitors." The guard said once again with his accent that was impossible to ignore.

Jessie chimed in "Rafe Cameron is the only one here. Tell him there's a young lady waiting out front for him." She said as if she owned the place.

The guard hesitated, but spoke a few things into his walkie and finally summoned the driver in the gates. Jessie knew Rafe would be taken off guard. She didn't have to say who she was. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist. His curiosity always got the best of him. How could he say no to a young lady waiting to see him?

Jessie finally exited the cab with a rolling suitcase in hand. The Pogues thought she should dress in more business attire to present herself more seriously, so that's exactly what she did, opting for a black satin knee length dress and strappy black heels. Jessie hated the getup, but knew first-- or new-- impressions were everything. The attire was all a strategy to breed intimidation. Rafe was also wearing a suit though, surprisingly. She walked through the house and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. He was talking on the phone in a lavish, white living room, wearing a navy blue blazer and a cream colored shirt. He also had his head buzzed. That was a new look for Jessie, but she didn't hate it. He looked much more grown up, but maybe it was just the blazer talking.

She rounded the corner while he was still on the phone pacing back and forth among the 3 couches and large round white coffee table, all pieces facing the large bay windows. Jessie strutted down the hallway with as much confidence as she could muster, making sure to not let her face fall or her facade falter. She was stone cold, and Rafe knew it the second he spun around and locked eyes with her. It took everything in Jessie not to fall into those icy blue orbs again... but this time, they looked more like storm clouds. God, he's changed.

Rafe's face was unreadable. Confusion, sadness, anger, relief, fear, joy, all somehow in the same look. He dropped his phone but never dropped eye contact, neither did Jessie. Tears pooled in his eyes and he visibly choked and tried to swallow whatever he was thinking or trying to say.

"J-Jessie?" Rafe whispered with straight lips and wide eyes. He looked terrified, like he'd seen a ghost. For a second Jessie felt like one.

Jessie stopped in her tracks and put her hands on the back of the white plush couch and leaned closer to him. Not near close enough to be sharing the same air but close enough to intimidate Rafe. Show time. She narrowed her eyes and licked her lips and smirked.

"That's Mrs. Cameron to you."

[nickeverdeen]

If they are open, I would love an Umbrella Academy matchup (any gender)

Physical appearance: Female, rather pale despite being half Moroccan, long super curly black hair, brown eyes, 5'5, I'm goth so I'm typically seen wearing long black skirts and either a turtle neck with a lingerie top over it or a band shirt and a blazer. I also do really big eyeliner. :3

Personality: ENTP, very extroverted but struggle with social cues (autism & adhd), and am really insecure about it. I like to think I'm pretty funny and I'm constantly talking about politics and theatre. Speaking of theatre! I do acting and lights! I also have a major passion for singing and if I'm not talking I'm usually singing to myself.

I struggle with social cues and insecurities and get really clingy as a result so a partner who can handle or match my energy is the dream.

Thank you and have a nice day! :) <3 - 🖤

Your TUA match is…

Klaus Hargreeves

You and Klaus would be the most dramatic duo, constantly play-acting scenes, quoting famous lines, or even bursting into song together mid-conversation

Your shared love for theatre would lead to many over-the-top reenactments around the house

Klaus would adore your goth fashion and big eyeliner, probably borrowing half of your wardrobe and rocking it himself

You’d both swap jewelry and accessories constantly, sometimes showing up in matching black-and-silver looks without planning

Klaus would love that you’re always singing, and he’d eagerly join in with harmonies (even if they’re off-key)

The two of you would turn car rides and lazy days into full-blown concerts, belting out lyrics with passion

Klaus, being neurodivergent himself, would totally understand your struggles with social cues and insecurities

He’d always remind you to be yourself, making you feel secure and appreciated no matter what

With Klaus, your humor would be an absolute riot

He’d find you hilarious, and the two of you would be in constant fits of laughter, throwing sarcastic quips and absurd jokes back and forth

Klaus may not always keep up with the specifics, but he’d be fascinated by your knowledge of politics and would happily listen to you talk about it

He’d throw in a few silly comments but would be genuinely interested in your passion.

You’d both bond over deep, existential conversations in the dead of night, each of you venting your thoughts and feelings

Klaus would value these talks as moments of true closeness between you two

Klaus wouldn’t care about social norms or judgments, which would help you feel accepted no matter how clingy, energetic, or unconventional you get

He’d be thrilled to have someone who feels like a soulmate, with no pressure to hold back

Klaus would totally match your clingy energy and would be all for physical affection

Hand-holding, cuddling, and draping himself over you would become a part of everyday life

With his naturally theatrical side, Klaus would be your biggest supporter in acting, helping you rehearse lines or giving dramatic feedback

He’d attend all your performances and make sure you feel like a star

Klaus would pull you into random dance sessions, spinning you around in your long skirts or pretending you’re both at a grand ball

His carefree energy would always bring a smile to your face

Klaus might not be great at the technical side, but he’d love to help you with lights and backstage tasks

He’d show up to every rehearsal, probably making chaos but always managing to make you laugh

With your insecurities, Klaus would offer comfort without hesitation, showering you with compliments

He’d remind you daily how incredible you are and would go out of his way to make you feel secure

Klaus would be enchanted by your goth aesthetic, adding to the dark and mysterious vibe with his own eclectic style

You two would look like the ultimate goth duo, drawing attention whenever you’re out together

Klaus would come up with the quirkiest date ideas, like a late-night graveyard picnic, vintage shopping trips, or spontaneous road trips

Your adventurous personalities would make every date an unforgettable memory

You’d both be prone to dramatic moments, which could lead to occasional intense arguments

But you’d also be equally passionate about making up, with emotional apologies and lots of hugs

Klaus would bring out your nurturing side, and he’d adore any pets you have, especially if they’re as moody and lovable as he is

He’d probably name the cats after dead philosophers or musicians

Despite Klaus’s tendency for chaos, you’d find a sense of stability in each other

You’d both face life’s ups and downs with humor, resilience, and a touch of beautiful madness

Klaus would not only understand but would celebrate your neurodivergent traits, making you feel proud of them

You’d both work through challenges together, helping each other grow along the way

Klaus would find your mischievous side delightful, encouraging you to break rules and live boldly

[shmackhaystack]

The Queen and Her Levi - Chapter 8: Talk to me.

King!Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

Description:

"All my life I have never known what it was like to love someone, if anything, really. Until I met you, and everything changed, you brat."

"Reader" has a name, if you don't like it, then change it to your own, the world is your oyster.

Will contain VERY mature and triggering content. Viewer discretion is advised and minors please DNI.

Also on Wattpad. If you would like to message me please feel free! I would appreciate and encourage any feedback. Hope you enjoy.

[word count: 4.6k]

Prologue | Previous chapter

X (18+ content hehehe)

Asuna moaned loudly as Levi was thrusting himself into her, for the second time that morning. He held her wrists above her head as he continued to kiss her all over as she whined. He couldn't get enough of her, every time he sees her he just needed to have her, to touch her, to feel himself inside of her, he felt that he could cum right then and there from just looking at her. He didn't understand why he felt this way towards her, he barely knew her, and didn't even make an effort to try to get to know her as a person, as his soon-to-be wife. Though still, he felt this heart wrenching passion and possessiveness towards her. The thought made him frustrated deep inside, he had never felt this way before his entire life, he didn't think he had it in him to feel something towards someone. Was it love? Levi wasn't sure. 

Before long, he spills his seed inside of her again. He has been doing that every time they had sex at this point, which made her groan and orgasm against her will, even though she slightly enjoyed it. After he finished, he kissed her forehead before getting off of her, she looked into his eyes as he does the same. Though after a few seconds, he walks towards the shower, not saying a word to her. She sighs as she begins to clean herself up, wiping what felt like endless cum leaking out of her. 

Dana should have been here already to help her dress into the gowns that she was expected to wear, she had no idea how to put those complicated dresses on herself. Dana probably wasn't there yet because Levi was still in there as well. She also remembered that her wedding and coronation was 3 days away. The thought made her want to throw up in nervousness. It has been barely a week since she left home and arrived here, it seems like Levi was just eager to make the pretty girl his wife and be done with it. 

About 10 minutes later, he walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, brushing his hair and getting dressed into his casual blazer and expensive shirt. She looks at him, still naked and laying down on the bed, looking quite sad and unsure about what her purpose is here other than just being his entertainment when he feels like it. 

"You okay?" He asks as he ties up his white ascot that usually hung around his chest, getting ready to leave her again once more. 

It takes her a few seconds to say anything. He looked down and covered herself with the bedsheets, not feeling embarrassed anymore but she wanted him to know that she was clearly conflicted and upset. 

"I'm... frustrated." She answers. 

Before he can respond back, they both hear a soft knock at their bedroom door. He hears Dana's soft voice calling out for Asuna, asking to come in to get her dressed and ready for the day.

"Come back later!" Levi yells from the other side of the door with frustration. He wasn't done talking with his fiancee yet, how dare someone interrupt him? 

They both hear Dana let out her apologies before walking away, standing idly waiting for the right time to just simply do her job.

"You know... You don't need to yell at her like that." Asuna says, still on the bed, glaring at Levi. 

He sighs and glares back, but not in a hostile way, more of a disappointed and sad way that she was looking at him like that. Secretly, he wished she would look at him with that gorgeous smile she has, but he's not making a very good effort of that happening at this point. 

"I need to go." He says, slightly brushing off her confrontation at him yelling at Dana. "I have a lot of work to do before the wedding." 

She glares at him some more before rolling her eyes. She thinks to herself. Work, huh? I still don't have the courage to ask him about the threats yet... I really want to know, but I'm afraid he is just going to ignore me or yell at me. I guess there are a lot of things he needs to do before the wedding anyway. Gosh. I'm fucking nervous. 

He walks to her as she is still lying on the bed, naked and vulnerable. Looking at her for a few seconds with that iconic stoic glare he always has, he leans in for a quick kiss. She kisses back, but still looks back at him with disgust. 

Gosh, when are you going to open up to me? They both secretly thought to themselves in their own way of thinking about it. 

He leaves the room as she sighs. Dana walks in a few moments later looking very tensed up and scared. She bows to Asuna while she was still on the bed naked, covering herself with the sheets. Dana was used to it at this point. The past week she has walked into the room to help Asuna get ready, and she is greeted with the same picture every time. Asuna in her bed covering herself, still naked and frustrated. Dana wishes to open up to her more, as Asuna is feeling all sorts of conflicting emotions these days. 

"It's okay, Your Grace." Her sweet hand maiden breaks the silence. "Do you want to get up?"

"Yeah." Asuna answers immediately as she gets up, ready for Dana to help dress her. "I'm fine."

Dana wanted to ask what's wrong, but deep down she already knew. She wishes she could do more to help, but right now all she could really do was be there for her in the way she was supposed to. Right now, she can only help her by getting her ready for the day. Asuna excuses herself to go and wash up first before getting changed, she was a mess, after all.

Levi was fucking her every single night, and almost every morning, she barely got enough sleep, or a good nights rest since she's been here, at least. She wasn't going to say that she didn't enjoy it, though. 

As Dana and two other hand maidens helped her get into her pretty silk, rose colored dress, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly feeling dizzy and fatigued, she loses her balance and almost falls over. Luckily, Dana and another hand maiden had kept her from falling down. Asuna gains control of herself again after a few seconds, not quite understanding what that was. 

"Your Grace!" One of the handmaidens say as she was helping her up. "Are you okay?! Do you need to see the doctor?!" 

"No," Asuna answers immediately. "I'm okay. I think I am just stressed..." 

She was sick of it. It has only barely been a week and she was tired of Levi's attitude, how he was treating her, she had enough respect for herself to know that she deserved better. Sooner or later, she was going to get the strength to confront him and talk to him about what she is feeling. It's only fair, right? She was going to be his wife in a matter of days, if this was how it was going to be, then she was going to have to fight back. 

Dana had asked her if she was excited for her wedding and her coronation, in which she was going to be crowned Queen of the Walls. She sighed and nodded, she wasn't trying to be dismissive or shy, she was honestly just not sure what to think about all of it. Mainly, she was more upset at the fact that Levi only decided to take her hand in marriage because he wanted to get back at her dad, Dan Reiss. For all of the conflict that this man has caused Levi and his kingdom, it made perfect sense that he would choose to get back at him by stealing his daughter away from him. 

Asuna's life was going to change forever, everything she ever knew was thrown out the window. She felt unloved, unwanted for what she truly wished to offer to Levi. She will never have another opportunity to love who she chooses to love or do what she truly wants to do with her life. At this moment in time, she only felt like she was just there for Levi's duty, and entertainment when he wanted her. Luckily, he was faithful to her though, he wasn't going to bed or lay with anyone else as long as Asuna was alive. 

The stress and all the unknowns to her was eating her alive. There were more recurring moments when Dana was helping dress her, but Asuna could do nothing but think of her situation and the fate she was put in. Almost falling over again, as Dana had to grab her and eagerly ask if she needed to see the castle's primary doctor, but she refused, saying she was fine. It was just stress, right? 

Her outfit for the day was all set. She looked beautiful as always. Dana had to formally excuse herself due to other business regarding the wedding needed to be done. Asuna nodded as usual and sat down to eat her breakfast. She wanted to help more, she felt like such a nuisance sitting there doing nothing as everyone around her worked on her and Levi's upcoming wedding, as well as her coronation. She secretly hated the fact everyone else was doing these things for her, she just needed to find the strength to do something about it. 

She was getting some sort of freedom as the days go by, but still no insight on the so called threats that kept coming up in the back of her head, the tension around the castle still lingering. She needed to do a lot of things, but one thing she needed to focus on first, was talking to Levi. She needed to get a word out of him and speak to him about these damn threats that nobody was telling her about. She had decided right then and there, she was going to investigate. 

The past 2 days, the bedroom door that was locked, trapping her inside, was no longer locked. Asuna wasn't sure if that was done on purpose or if the guards, or Levi, just simply forgot to lock it, which was unlikely. It was possible that Levi found out of Asuna's frustration towards her being locked in the bedroom. Maybe, just maybe, he was doing this to make her feel happier. 

Within those two days, she had visited the castle's library, as well as the gorgeous rose gardens that were blossoming around the castle barriers. Despite guards keeping an eye on her when she roamed the castle on her own, nobody really questioned when she soon decided to make her way up to Levi's office. Though guarded by military police guards and Dana keeping her company often, she remembered that she was going to be the Queen, supposedly having the same amount of rights as the king, so to speak. She had finally decided she was going to figure it out herself, nobody can stop her, right?  I'm going to be his wife... She thought. I'm sure I should be able to go and speak to my fiancee when I wish. 

She made her way up to his office, which was on one of the higher floors of the castle. She had kindly asked the guards watching over her to take a step back, and that if anything were to happen, they wouldn't be too far away, finally alone and unguarded. The walk up was making her winded recently, it was a shit ton of stairs, but this was important. Despite her fearless act of walking to his office to talk to him, deep down she was quite intimidated. She walked towards the room where she knew to be the office, with large doors. Before she made it to the door, she could hear Levi yelling and arguing with someone from inside, she stopped in her tracks, considering that maybe it wasn't the best idea to listen in. 

Though she does realize that her curiosity was at its limit, she takes a deep breath and heads towards the door. There wasn't any guards posted in front, so she took the opportunity to listen in on what was being discussed rather than knock first. She quietly put her ear to the door, listening into what was going on and praying she could figure out something, a clue, even. 

"I don't need you or anyone else's permission on who I decide to marry..." She hears Levi's voice from within the office. "The deed is done, I am not going to change my mind!"

"We understand that, Your Grace." An unfamiliar voice answered him. "Though you do need to understand, with Lady Asuna not having any royal blood whatsoever, there have been some disapproving statements, from not just the commanders of the royal guard, but the common people, too." 

Asuna's eyes widen. Is that what all the threats are about? Levi marrying a common girl rather than someone of royal blood? This doesn't make any sense. 

"She is the eldest daughter of Dan Reiss," Levi responds. "Royal blood or not, she is still from a noble family." 

The men he was talking to couldn't argue with that, they were just hoping he would have ended up marrying someone with a more elite birth right, someone that understands the idea of a royal lifestyle, not some naive girl who grew up on a farm estate.

"Either way, we are worried for your Queen's safety, Your Grace." The voice says again. "Though the anonymous threat we received shouldn't be something that should be of any worry, for now." 

"I still want her guarded and protected." Levi answers. "Any threat that relates to her kidnapping or assassination should definitely be of any concern. Just because you lazy geezers aren't worried about it, doesn't mean anyone else is." 

Levi pauses before finishing his statement. "Though, I don't want to tell her that."

Asuna gasps quietly. What did he just say? She tries not to make too much noise so that anyone inside Levi's office could hear her. 

Kidnapping? Assassination? Those were the threats in question?  By who? Who would want to hurt me? Those people said it themselves, I am a nobody. Just someone who Levi decided to marry out of a whim?! She suddenly wished that she had just stayed curious. Her heart was beating  faster than when Levi first propositioned that he wished to marry her. She didn't understand any of it at all, she was barely here a week, and not even within a day there were threats being made? Perhaps the news of Levi's new bride came around the kingdom faster than she thought. 

Despite her fear that she felt in her heart, and all the fact that still remained unknown to her, she still felt something else. She felt anger. She was angry at Levi for keeping something like that from her. A threat to her life should be something that she should be aware of before anyone else. Instead, he kept it from her, and most likely forced everyone else to keep it from her as well. Does everyone know about this?! Am I the only one who is ignorant about all of it? This was the last straw, she decided it was time to knock on the damn door and speak with her fiancee. 

"Marlo, do we have any idea on who might be behind these threats, yet?" Levi asks again. 

"Not yet, Your Grace." The man called 'Marlo' spoke up. "We are doing everything we can to figure it out, but until we do, the castle will be on high alert." 

A few seconds pass by before Levi speaks up again. "Leave me." He says in a harsh tone. Asuna quickly gathers herself outside the door and waits for the man to walk out so she could step in. 

The door opens for Marlo by two guards that were also in the room with him. Asuna takes a few steps back as Marlo sees her standing there in front of him. His eyes widen as he immediately bows to her. 

"Your Grace!" He says loud and nervously. She quickly prompts him to rise, stating silently that that kind of curtsy wasn't necessary. She sees Levi in the middle of the room behind his large desk, Marlo's curtsy grabs his attention as he turns around to see none other than his fiancee standing right there, glaring at him. 

As Marlo leaves, Asuna walks in slowly, as the guards holding the door open bow to her as she walked in. Closing the door behind her, she walks in slowly without saying anything, just giving that glare that Levi hated seeing on her pretty face. 

"What are you doing here?" Levi asked her. "I didn't give you permission to come in."

"Since when do I need your permission?" She states back, causing the guards by the door to gasp quietly at her defiance. "I thought I was going to be your wife, not your servant?"

Levi doesn't say anything as he takes a deep breath, visibly annoyed. He walks towards her, standing in front of her by a few feet until demandingly telling the two guards to wait outside. 

Asuna doesn't budge, she doesn't turn around or look at her surroundings at the room she's never been in before. She doesn't take her eyes off him, he sees how cold and angry she looks at him. She should have seen his office by now, and that, she also blames Levi for too.

As the guards leave and close the door, there was a few seconds of silence of Levi and Asuna looking at each other. Though Levi was annoyed at her and conflicted on what to say, he still couldn't hide the look on his face on how fascinated he was towards her bravery and beauty.  

"What do you need?" He breaks the silence, attempting to walk closer to her, but she backs up more, not wanting him touching her right now. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Asuna asks, with an aggravated tone. 

"Tell you what?"

"The threats, God damn it!!!" She yells. "The so called kidnapping threats?! I also heard the word 'assassination'?!" 

"How much of that did you hear?" He asks calmly. He was obviously not angry at the fact that she overheard his conversation with Marlo, more that she arrives at his office without him knowing. 

"Enough." She responds, more tensed up than usual. "What else are you keeping from me?"

"The threats in question are being investigated thourougly." He says with a calm tone again. "It is not something you should worry about-"

"Not something to worry about?!" She interrupts him. "I'm sick of this, Levi." 

"What do you mean?" He asks with curiosity. "Sick of what?"

"You." She pauses, before continuing after a few seconds, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sick of you keeping me in the dark. I'm sick of you fucking me without barely saying anything. I'm sick of feeling like just a toy to you when you're bored. Is that all I will ever be to you!? I'm sick of acting like just a stupid figurehead that is only known as King Levi's little play thing! We aren't even married yet and I am tired! I've been feeling nothing but frustration ever since I came here! I want it to end! And most of all, I'm sick of having the feeling that I still barely know you! And that it will always be like this!" 

He doesn't say anything, he just listens, not wanting to argue or interrupt her. This is probably the very first time a girl ever talked to him this way. Of course, Erwin or Hange would have it out with him and argue often, but when it came to his fiancee, he was speechless. 

"Why?! Why don't you want to know me...? Why can't you just talk to me?!" She is close to tears at this point. Looking down trying not to let it all out. 

"I am trying to protect you." He finally speaks up after a few seconds. He attempts to get closer to her again, she continues to look down, not looking at him. 

"Protect me?" She chuckles sarcastically. "How exactly are you doing that? By keeping secrets from me? Don't I have a right to know what is going on?"

Levi sighs. The anger and short fuse that he usually had on others normally, he didn't have with her. 

"I can tell you have been unsure about all of this. Unsure about me. I didn't want to cause any more stress to you than I already am." 

She wanted to cry, but instead she just sniffles. He wasn't wrong, but she just wished she could get rid of this feeling that he truly doesn't really care about her, about getting to know her, as his wife, as his Queen. 

"But why...Why can't you... just talk to me?" She says in a more soft voice. "I don't want to have secrets kept from me." 

He is standing right in front of her at this point, he lightly puts his hands on her shoulders, caressing them, before letting go and rubbing the undercut of his hair. Though he wished to protect her, he understood where she was coming from. He barely spoke to her, avoided her most of the time, except for when he was feeling physical and fucked her without any clear motive. Levi didn't understand at all this feeling he had, he barely knew the girl. He's felt this fire in his heart ever since he laid eyes on her. He wished he could explain it, but this sort of feeling and emotion was brand new to him. 

"I'm not sure..." He responds, pausing. "I'm not sure how to talk to you."

She looks up with him, her eyes tearing up as she eyes him with confusion. 

"Why?"

"I feel this... fire in my heart... towards you..." He says between pauses. "These emotions I feel.. I just... I don't know how to react to them." 

"That doesn't make any sense, Levi." She argues. "You barely know me." 

"I'm afraid to."

Did he just say that? Did the King Levi Ackerman just say he was 'afraid'? Since when did this man ever fear anything?

"Again, why?" She moves closer to him.

"I don't know." 

She sighs, backing up a bit with shattered his heart a little. She kept wanting to ask 'why?' but she knew that probably wouldn't get her anywhere. This man was hard to read. When he says 'fire in his heart,' what the hell does that mean? Is it anger? Annoyance? Lust? ...Love?

"I remember the day I met you, when you came to my dad's estate." She speaks up again. "You told me a lot of things, but one thing I remember you saying as I was packing my things to leave my home was 'I won't ignore you.' I keep hearing it in the back of my head since that first night. I'm starting to understand what a great lie that was."

With that, she backs up again and turns around. Opening the door as the guards waiting outside bowed to her as she left the room, disappearing from his sight. 

He wanted to follow her, he wanted to chase after her and just kiss and hold her, but he couldn't. He didn't know how to give someone that kind of affection. His entire life, Levi Ackerman only ever had a relationship in a physical and lustful manner. He never actually thought that he was capable of having a relationship that involved love and care for one another. He was absolutely hesitant on how to approach it, on how to tell her what he really feels. He knew that he was going to have to get married eventually. All the girls he had met in the past that were candidates for being his wife, they never seemed to truly care about him as a person. He could see right through all of them as they just mainly wanted the title as Queen and nothing more. He wasn't expecting Asuna to not feel any different, but she did, and it drove him mad. 

Levi did want to get to know her. He did want to have a relationship with her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her everything. Explain to her that he was excited to marry such an amazing girl, to know how honored he was to have found such a graceful woman to be his Queen. The problem was, he didn't know how to properly let her know that. He sat back down in his chair, the guards posted outside still there. He suddenly banged on his desk, frustrated. He couldn't even focus on all the work that needed to be done in terms of the Scout Regiment and his upcoming wedding. 

After hours of sitting there, drinking his signature black tea and contemplating everything about himself, he decided. He was going to attempt to fix this.

Asuna made it back to her shared bedroom with Levi right after her feud with him. The guards bowing and closing the door behind her. Finally alone, she broke down in tears. Wishing she would have said more, but she wanted him to know how angry and frustrated she truly was at this whole situation. She just hoped that she didn't give him the wrong impression that she doesn't want anything to do with him or something. They were getting married in 3 days for God's sake, she needed to figure this out now, but perhaps confronting him was the wrong way to do it, or was it? She wasn't sure. She had so much other things to worry about, like practicing for her coronation and the amount of people around the kingdom that will soon come to see her.

She couldn't think straight at all. All of these thoughts that kept invading inside her head was nauseating. She had never felt so stressed and unsure ever in her life. The dizziness that she was feeling lately came back again, she almost fell to the floor, putting her hands on her face as she tried to blink the dizziness away. She opened the balcony and sat down on one of the chairs, feeling the breeze hit her face and the wind blow through her soft hair. As she stared out into the city surrounding this damn castle, she cried some more. 

Why am I feeling this way?

It took about 30 minutes for Levi to collect himself and run up to their room. He knew she had to be there, the guards told him that she made her way in that direction. He usually wouldn't show up to their bedroom until later in the night when she was already asleep, where he would wake her up with his own methods... But this time, he had other intensions, running towards their bedroom before the sun began to fall.

He was ready to talk. 

AN:

[omg.. the insight on the threats has finally been revealed :0 Wtf? Why does somebody want to kidnap us?! Sussy fr. At least she is finally starting to get somewhere with Levi, but damn it's hard as hell. Also why is she feeling so fatigued recently? 

This makes all the chapters on Tumblr now up to date. Yay! I will now post them on here once I publish them on Wattpad. Wedding chapter up next?? Maybe? AGH. Arigato! xoxox]

- Kat <3

[dracomeir]

Just 'cause I'm really intrigued by this (and more or less tempted to draw..) do you have any designs/references for your Renegade Detective AU gang? Could help to also ramble a bit on their world and setting, even if you don't write it out. Always cool to get info about these fellas, might even help you brainstorm on plots and such for later whenever : )

Luckily for me, this is literally the only AU I have planned start to finish. I could write a whole essay, but I don't want to drop everything at once right now. :3

Also to anyone reading this, spoilers but not really since all of this would be in the prologue/chapter one, and I'm like 70% sure I'll never write this fanfic, but still.

So I'm lazy, and can't be bothered to redraw OG Pico into what Soft Pico is wearing, but that's basically what the uniform of the SCF (Special Crime Forces) is. This squad was created with Detective Pico as its leader, and they deal with any crimes where demons are involved. Forensics scientist Darnell wears a purple shirt. He's also the one who creates weapons, sprays, tranquilizers, and any other means of self defense that are effective against demons. Criminal analyst Nene wears pink. She gathers intel from less legitimate sources, keeps an eye on the black market for items of interests, and helps Pico determine what a suspect's next course of an action could be. She also tore the sleeves off of her blazer since she gives no fucks, and the higher ups can't do shit about it since Pico and his crew are the only one with the balls to deal with demons.

Pico is the only one of the trio to have dual pistols. One is a black one called Noir. He uses this gun for humans, and other creatures that don't require magical means to be harmed. His runic pistol is white, and is called Blanc. BF gave this to him back in college, and its enchanted by magical runes that allow him to harm demons, or any other entity that can't be harmed by non-magical means. He is considered a renegade in the force since he will break protocols/the law, and disobey orders if it meant saving the lives of others. Due to him and his squad being the only ones capable of dealing with demons, he hasn't gotten fired for his insubordination yet.

I quickly drew BF's design since I never drew him in full yet, but just imagine him with his usual hair, and pants matching his vest. The lines on his horns represent his energy level. This energy is required for him to live, and incubi/succubi can regain this energy by simply seeing certain thoughts/desires of those around them. Unfortunately for BF, he is unable to gain the energy he needs like others of his kind. This is due to an arch demon punishing him with a curse for betraying the clan, and preventing them from killing Pico, Darnell, Nene, and other students at college. This curse harms him if he doesn't actively block out the desires of others, and the only way for him to regain energy is to take the souls of others, killing them in the process. No one else knows about this until way later in the story. This demon attack on the college was also the reason why BF was forced to drop his human illusion, and his use of charm magic in combat causes Pico to jump to the conclusion that the incubus charmed him to make him fall in love, and breaks up with him. With the bad reputation of his kind at this point of time, BF had no chance to explain himself.

BF doesn't see Pico again until a few years later where a new program that employs demons as emotional support was made. This program is an attempt to improve the reputation of demons, and to show the general public that not all demons are a threat. With the help of the ginger's father (tank dad, yippee!), BF convinces the ginger to put an anti-magic bracelet on him to prove that no magic will get in the way of regaining his trust. He also cooks for him, plays his saxophone for BGM despite Pico's annoyance, and helps him fight demons once the detective trusts him enough to not use magic on him or his friends.

To give you a better idea what BF and Pico's dynamic will be like, here's a short dialogue exchange between the two of them when the ginger trusts BF enough to use lower level magic. A level of magic that allows him to see the thoughts/desires of others.

"Thanks, Pico. I promise to only look when I really need the ener- Wait. Why is your head empty?"

Pico simply shrugged in response despite knowing he had protection against the magic BF was using.

"Has your standards gotten higher since we broke up? Is my ass too small? Too big? Is my chest window not big enough? Is lean and muscular not good enough for you now? Do I have to work out?" He looked at himself in the mirror. "Actually, fuck everything I just said. I'm perfect the way I am. Still though, there's a hottie right in front of you, and you don't even have the smallest dirty thought of him?"

"Hm... Maybe you're not trying hard enough."

"Excuse me? You have no fucking idea how hard it is," he gestured to himself as he walked away to question his abilities as an incubus. "To look this good. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to... Do maintenance on my saxophone."

The moment the door closed, Pico chuckled to himself. "Fucking idiot."

Edit: I forgor that Pico wears reading glasses.

[hurricanepursonafied]

Chapter four of Things We Said in the Dark

The next few days passed slowly as preparations for heading off to our new school took hold of our life. We rarely ever saw our father as he was constantly in his office making calls. To whom, I don't know.

He had invited a seamstress to see our new uniforms for us.

A dark blue overdress with four buttons on the waist and pleated skirt, a white frilly shirt and a dark blue blazer and tie with the schools crest. The crest was a crow holding a scroll on a shield.

The white shirts where of different cuts and sleeve styles but my favorite was one with a high neck and long sleeves that puffed out and came back in at the wrist. It was clearly not meant to be worn with the jacket but it was beautiful.

Right now all of our clothes are tucked away in bags and we are all wearing our uniforms. Complete with the jacket and all.

It also came with hair accessories for us, a beret hat and a large bow. Both dark blue.

My father insisted we wear the hat to complete the look.

He wanted us to be perfect and matching, he has this...obsession with us being perfect and showing everyone up.

The Martins are perfect

The Martins are happy

The Martins are better then us in every way possible.

As if it was true. Maybe he had that obsession because eventually after forcing us all to live up to his expectations it would finally become true.

I don't know...maybe I'm crazy and he's just obsessed period. Maybe he has no other motive then trying to get others to see us as perfect.

Do I really even know my father?

I doubt it.

We where all sitting in our limo, stiff and silent.

My father was texting someone and ignoring us.

Alora had her headphones in and was staring out the window, her hat was crooked. If I put my headphones in I might get yelled at. Alora has a pattern of not doing what she's supposed to but he lets it slide.

I start to fidget and could immediately feel his eyes on my hands. So I stop.

I hold still.

I do as I am told.

Hazel is staring off into space, unconcerned as usual.

I have this habit of running my fingertips down each of my nails as if I'm counting them. It's calming somehow.

Like I'm making sure everything is still here and safe.

The drive was long and slightly infuriating because I seemed to be the only one with nothing to do but browse the contents of my brain, and while I usually would love a break to think as long as I want, my head was currently filled with anxious thoughts about the future.

I wasn't worried about the kids there liking me or making friends, I was worried about failing classes and making a fool of myself in front of all the rich and influential rich kids who would grow up to be rich adults with power and money.

I would be at their mercy if I let my guard down...

No I can't let my guard down.

I can NEVER let my guard down.

After a long time of driving we passed into the countryside, I had looked up the school on Google and found their website and it said they where located in North Carolina which is too far away for us to drive all the way there so I assumed we would be taking a plane. I was right

We had driven to a privet airport where a lone plane stood. It was relatively small compared to most commercial planes but it looked large enough to be comfortable.

Our doors opened and we where lead out of the car by two men in suits. My father placed a hand on my shoulder and lead us away from the man who had taken my hand to help me out of the car. My father sent a glare at the boy as he pulled us away.

He was young, around my age, and looked like he could be handsome, but not really my type. The reason my father acted so hostile was because the boy had smiled a little to much and looked me up and down as I was exciting the car, as I looked back I saw he had the audacity to wink at me.

I don't usually find people attractive and have a hard time seeing what people see in "attractive" men, so that little boy over there made me want to claw his eyes out.

I'm getting too emotional. I should stop thinking about it. I would never see that boy again so it didn't really matter.

Anyone who dared make advances on me never stuck around for long. For my other sisters it was different, Alora had had a boyfriend before and my father didn't bat an eye, Hazel was smart enough to stay away from boys for the time being, but me? No if a boy even looked at me wrong, he was gone.

Out of the house and out of my life.

I honestly preferred it though, I might

have had a crush on one or two and did my best to hide them from my father, but once I got to know them more I realized they didn't have anything up in their heads other then

Agree with everything she says and be as bland as possible.

It was so annoying that I've never met a guy I could have an actual conversation with.

I decided a long time ago to never fall for anyone because my father would probably marry me off to someone for a deal or too make an alliance with another business owner so it didn't really matter what I wanted.

It never did.

The plane was comfortable as I had suspected and was painted bright pink on the inside. Not the color I would have chosen but Alora seemed to enjoy it.

As the seats where sitting one behind the other, I was finally able to pull out my heads phones and relax, I had some downloaded songs I could listen to as well as an audiobook.

I slipped them on and leaned back, closing my eyes.

I opened them to Alora shaking my shoulder. I had fallen asleep and now my hat was crooked, how embarrassing...

My father was no where to be found but Hazel was standing near the door of the plane and glancing anxiously at me and who I assumed was my father outside.

I quickly stood up and fixed my hat.

Walking out of the plane I saw that we had landed in a field, I couldn't see anything but us, the plane, a car with the schools crest on it, and grass. It was gorgeous...I marked the place in my phones map and headed toward my father.

Keeping my eyes down, I stood, waiting for his direction. Some people where loading up the car with our bags, my father was texting someone and my sisters where just sort of wandering around. I couldn't wander because I fell asleep on the plane and caused my father embarrassment.

No one wanted a daughter who was so undignified that she fell asleep on the plane.

Finally, the people finished loading up and my father finished on his phone and we where able to get into the car and start driving towards the school.

It took awhile for us to get out of the beautiful field and onto a road but eventually we did. Driving through the countryside we came to a gate that spiraled upwards with an intricate design of birds. Vines crawled up the sides, we drove through and the road turned to gravel.

We drove up the schools driveway for a while before coming to a very large mansion. It looked old but well kept, vines snuck up the sides and the paint was a bit faded. It was a dark blue with white accents, like the uniform.

It looked grand and mysterious. Lovely in my opinion.

[doux-amer]

What a day. What a brilliant day. I’m over the moon. I never experienced euphoria with strangers the way I did here (well, maybe WC ‘02 before dawn/early in the morning in Queens with Koreans). @atlasblue85 and I went to Carragher’s a little before noon but ended up going to a bar down the block because it was impossible to get in. It ended up being worth it because I’ve only been to a bar once for a sports event (it was also a Champions League match) and it was awkward being the only girl in the entire place in the middle of the day with this guy shouting sexist remarks at the screen. :/ But the crowd was so good! I mean, I wish we had more originality than singing “Allez, allez, allez” five thousand times (I’m starting to hate this song...please, we have more originality than that! We have loads of great songs!), but still!

This is the first time I ever got to watch a match with a crowd that wasn’t at a stadium and omg it’s such a great feeling just SCREAMING. I’m mostly a silent watcher although I’ve become better at vocalizing myself and not feeling weird about it, but I yelled and clapped. That sort of unity is so amazing. AND ORIGI’S GOAL? KIM AND I LEAPT OUT OF OUR SEATS AND SCREAMED AS THE BAR BROKE OUT IN PANDEMONIUM AND WE JUST LOOKED AT EACH OTHER AND NEEDED TO HUG AND THEN THE MIDDLE-AGED MAN WHO SAT NEXT TO US (WHO CAME WITH HIS GROWN DAUGHTER...GIRLFRIEND? WHO KNOWS) WHO ALSO REACTED THE SAME WAY OPENED HIS ARMS AND WE HUGGED HIM IN TURN. I HUGGED A RANDOM STRANGER BECAUSE I WAS SO OVERCOME WITH EMOTIONS. I’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. AND JUST. IT DIDN’T MATTER! I DON’T KNOW WHO HE IS! HE DOESN’T KNOW WHO I AM! BUT WE LOVE OUR CLUB SO MUCH! KIM AND I DON’T KNOW WHO HE IS, BUT HE’S OUR CL ‘19 FINAL DAD NOW!!!!!!!

And I teared up!??!?!? FKDSLJFDLKSJFSDA KIM, SOME OF MY FRIENDS WHO’VE KNOWN ME FOR 2+ DECADES HAVEN’T SEEN ME CRY, BUT LOOK. I complained towards the end because this match was terrible. Both sides didn’t look like they wanted to win even though they should have wanted it desperately as Tottenham never even made it to a CL final before and Liverpool hasn’t won it in 14 years. Only Dele and Sonny tried on their side, and idk...I feel like it was just Sadio (and maybe Trent and Robbo in the first half) who really, really tried. It just felt like they were playing it safe and instead of trying to be selfish and take shots at the goal, they kept passing to the others while being incapable of completing passes (STOP! PASSING! TO! THE! OPPOSITION! OR! TO! EMPTY! SPACES! OR! TO! TEAMMATES! WHO! CAN’T! DO! ANYTHING! FROM! WHERE! THEY! ARE!) or mucking up their last touches in the other half.

I seriously didn’t know what I would’ve done if we won by Mo’s penalty because I know people would’ve discounted our win and I’m not sure any of us, fans or players alike, would’ve really had it in ourselves to celebrate deliriously. lakdsjfsjfldasfjdsa Kim and I were like “ORIGI, SAVE US” and he did. HE DID. KING OF SAVING LIVERPOOL. AND OF COURSE LIVERPOOL HAD TO GET A (TRUE) WINNING GOAL IN THE LAST FIVE MINUTES OF REGULAR TIME LIKE!!! WHY TF ARE WE SO DRAMATIC AS ALWAYS?! THIS IS WHEN I REMIND YOU THAT WE SCORED THE MOST GOALS (33) AT FULL-TIME OR EXTRA TIME IN THE PL. LIKE!!!!!!! PLEASE, DO WE KNOW HOW TO EXIST ANY OTHER WAY? Anyway, that goal summed up our 2018/19 season.

I’m so glad we won it this year too because lmaooo the petty happiness I felt that it happened in Madrid after it happened last year (and Kim and I agreed that we kind of didn’t want it to happen last year anyway because it felt like the beginning, like we weren’t there yet and we didn’t want it to feel premature if that makes sense). And just....it’s a story about how, even if you fail the first time and you’re devastated, you can pick yourself up and try again. Even if things aren’t going your way when you do, you never give up!!!

AND OMG WE DECIDED TO HEAD OVER TO CARRAGHER’S AFTERWARDS AND WE WERE BLOCKING THE ENTIRE STREET SO THAT CARS, TRUCKS, AND CYCLISTS HAD TO INCH FORWARD LSDFJALFJA. BUT THEY WERE SO HAPPY, HONKING, SMILING, WAVING AT US, AND SOMETIMES EVEN WAVING FLAGS/RED SHIRTS/WHATEVER. I LOVE YOU, NY. I LOVE YOU, STRANGERS. I LOVE YOU, FELLOW FANS. ALSO, I’M FOREVER MAD THAT I WAS TOO SHY TO ASK TRENT’S FAMILY IF I COULD TAKE PICS WITH THEM INSTEAD OF JUST TAKING PICS OF THEM. AT LEAST I GOT TO SPEND SOME TIME NEAR THEM, BUT GODDDDD, TRENT IS MY SON. MY CHILD. OUR FUTURE CAPTAIN. OUR BOY!!! BABY!!!!!! I LOVE HIM!!!!!!!! 

I LOVE ALL OUR BOYS! I TEARED UP AT ORIGI’S GOAL AND THEN WHEN THE BOYS RAN ONTO THE PITCH AT THE WHISTLE THAT NONE OF US COULD HEAR BECAUSE WE WERE TOO LOUD IN THE BAR AND THEN WHEN I HAD TO CHOKE OUT AN “OH MY GOD” AT THEM ENGRAVING THE TROPHY WITH LIVERPOOL’S NAME ON IT. I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT I SAW THAT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT????? FOURTEEN GODDAMN LONG YEARS. AND WE’RE HERE NOW. WE’RE HERE NOW. 

AND OH MY GOD WHEN JORDAN LIFTED UP THE TROPHY AND WE ALL DID THE “EHHHHHHHH.....EYYYY!!!!” SHOUT AND I DOUBLE-FISTED THE AIR AND OH MY GOD, THEY ALL DESERVE IT, BUT MY BOY JORDAN....AFTER ALL THESE YEARS. AFTER ALMOST CLOSE TO A DECADE WITH US. AFTER SUFFERING THROUGH THE DARK, BLEAK TIMES, BEING ONE OF THE LAST ONES REMAINING FROM THAT PRE-KLOPP ERA. IT WAS ALL WORTH IT. IT MADE THIS ALL THE SWEETER. 

YNWA!!! Y. N. W. A. I LOVE YOU ALL! 

[i4lixie]

𓂃 slide

summary: so maybe you wore a slutty outfit to 3racha's concert in your city. you didn't expect it to get attention--especially any attention from him.

genre: smut lolol, han is a lil bit of a fckboy

pairing: han x fem!reader

xtra info: this is a 3racha!only au, skz don't exist here, 3racha aren't idols but a slightly well known rap group. this was also a request!

You were just like all your other friends who wanted to look as sexy as possible for this upcoming show. April 18th, 8:30 PM was the time that all the boys of 3RACHA would be making their way on stage.

To say you... whored yourself out, is an understatement.

You didn't care. The amusing lyrics of "WOW" blasted through your speaker as your friend helped you slip on your see-through fishnet shirt over your black bra with "3RA" written on one cup, "CHA" on the other. The black cargo pants slightly evened out how revealing the top half of you was-they were split in the middle right underneath your ass, and you were happy for that-you would surely overheat in that nightclub with everyone around you.

So maybe you were going a little overboard. You didn't care.

"I swear if Changbin is in those glasses... I'm gonna piss myself." Hyewon whispers out as she scrolls through 3RACHA's Twitter. As soon as you were at a red light, you turned to see the picture-it was one they posted just an hour ago that you didn't get to see because you were too busy making yourself look like a Goddess with the new makeup you'd bought.

Changbin sported some clear glasses with what seemed like a tight white shirt with leather pants and a leather shirt that was cut in random places, squeezing him and making his physique pop. Chan wore a black blazer and nothing underneath, the blazer being buttoned the first few buttons, but left open after, revealing his muscled tummy.

And Jisung, your favorite. You could've crashed your car at the sight of him.

He's evil. Evil, for wearing that crop top with the same leather cut out as Changbin and leather pants. If you weren't a fan, you almost would've thought they were idols about to perform on a music stage, but that could never be your boys. Their personalities were far from idol-ish.

And it didn't help that your friends, along with you, got tickets to be as close as possible. Right in the fucking front.

"They're gonna kill us," you whimpered, your heartbeat suddenly racing as you parked in front of the nightclub. You were a bit early, and so were other fans it seemed--some people waiting outside their cars with alcohol or cigarettes in between their fingers.

Getting out of your car, you were shocked to suddenly hear a bunch of shouting and cheering. Looking towards the direction of the sound, your eyes popped at the sight of 3RACHA climbing out a black van. They were a little far away, but close enough that you could stare at them and tell if they were staring back.

They were. They were.

"Dude, they undoubtedly saw your fucking bra." Chaeyoung giggled at you, reaching forward to squeeze your tits, and you grunted at her as you pushed your hands away. She was right though--you made the words as big as possible and wrote them in white so they would be clear to any human eye. "What if they invite you on stage?"

"Then everyone in that bitch is getting a free strip show," you stated bluntly, causing your friends around you to laugh, especially at the fact that you were dead serious. You wouldn't miss the chance to at a one in a lifetime experience.

Getting into the concert was easier and way more fun than expected. You got plenty of compliments on your outfit, even a "they're definitely taking you to the back for that," every once in a while from fellow fans. Soon enough you were at the front of the club with your other friends, a cup full of sprite in your hand. You didn't wanna get drunk-you wanted to remember every second of this.

After a couple of minutes of vibing with the crowd, the lights in the club dimmed and screams erupted. You were amongst them, especially as the boys came out one by one, with wide smiles on their faces. Jisung's smile was turning into a little smirk as the screams got louder and louder, and his smug attitude was already making you weak in the knees.

"What's up motherfuckers?!" Changbin yelled into his mic, causing the other two to laugh as they helped in hyping up the crowd. "We're so excited to see all of your faces!"

"All of you already know the tracklist right?" Chan asked, and you nodded while everyone in the club told him yes. "Good. Han might forget some of it."

"Fuck you!" Jisung shouted at the other, though the smug smile stayed on your face. You couldn't help but laugh, and heat spread through your face as his eyes met yours due to the sound. He smiled a little more at you.

"He noticessss youuuu..." Hyewon whispered to you, nudging your shoulder. You roll your eyes.

While they introduce themselves and go through the tracklist once more, Jisung keeps meeting your eyes. You can tell he's looking at your bra, and you embrace it.

As soon as they start performing, the vibes start changing. You lose yourself in their music like you do when you're dancing in your room to their voices. You rap along, along with your friends, taking sips of sprite and feeling some of the soda on your chest, your skin sticky underneath the bright lights of the stage.

It's the middle of the setlist when they pause, taking a break to say a few words. Chan's are full of emotion, thanking everyone for staying and supporting. Changbin's are more or less the same, with some jokes filling the stadium with laughter.

"All of you have got on some nice ass outfits too," Han starts, tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip as his eyes suddenly slide over to your figure. "Especially this cutie in the front row. You got our name on your tits? That's a first."

Instead of shying away from the attention, you embrace it. Once in a lifetime experience.

"Guess who's name I got on my ass?" You tell him back, grinning as the nightclub erupts in cheers at your snakiness. Jisung's mouth drops a little at your confidence, and he winks at you, a telling look in the way his eyelids lower.

The next two hours were the best you could ever hope for. They performed a new song featuring two smaller rapper friends of theirs, The Tortoise and The Hare, and the beat sounds unbelievably sexy on the speakers. Of course, you know every word, and you lean into Jisung as he comes closer to you with the mic, rapping right in your face. His energy is high and you match it just as well, maybe even hitting the lyrics more than he does.

At the end of the concert, you're busy taking pictures and sharing videos with other fans when someone in all black approaches you, towering over you with his height. Leaning down, he whispers into your ear.

"A request from J.ONE--meet him backstage as soon as you can. He'll be waiting."

The man leaves. You sneak a look at his face before he does and you're left breathless once you realize that it's 3RACHA's manager.

Chaeyoung appears next to you, seeming as shocked as you are. "Was that-?"

"Yep. It was."

"Well?! What are you still standing here for?! Go get some dick!"

You widen your eyes at her, mouth opening to speak, but she cuts you off. "Nope. Don't need to worry bout me and Hyewonnie, we're going to the afterparty down the street. Join us when you're ready... if you can walk, at least."

You pop her and she leaves with Hyewon, snickering.

Once you start weaving your way through the crowd and walk behind the manager, you start to actually get nervous for the first time tonight. If Jisung wanted to fuck you, suck you, lick you--hell, you'd let him do anything. Sex was never something you shied away from, especially not from drop-dead gorgeous men.

You're too deep in your thoughts to notice the manager stopping until you nearly fun into him. His head points towards a closed door with the name J.ONE written on a piece of paper stuck towards it.

"He's in there."

With a small breath, you wished yourself luck before opening the door.

Jisung is sitting on a couch, his forehead dripping in sweat. His hair is wet but still parted in the middle how you like, and once you're so close to him, you can see his eyes are decorated in red eyeshadow.

He grins. "Hey, cutie."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Do you do this with all your fans?" you tease him, head tilting as you lean back against the door.

His grin widens. "Why? You jealous, baby?"

"Jealous?" you scoff. "Not at all. Just don't want you to think I'm a quick fuck cause I like your music. I'll delete it all reallll fast."

"Baby, baby, baby," he soothes, and your heart flutters. "It's not like that at all. I just wanna get to know you, I can't do that?"

You stare at him blankly. "Get to know me while I have your group's name across my boobs?"

He shrugs, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "You wore it, not me... you had me distracted all night."

"Did I?"

"You really did," he murmurs, suddenly standing, and his presence fills the room. His shirt rises and your eyes are quick to get any sneaks at his tummy that you can. He is dangerously attractive. "Couldn't stop imagining having that bra in my pocket after I-"

"After you what?" you egg him, stepping off the door this time and closer to him. He stares you down. "Go on. Say it, Hannie."

"After I make you cum, baby."

That was all you needed. You wanted this, and he wanted it too--neither of you was shying away from it.

It took about three seconds after you kissed him for him to slam your back against the door, bending down to reach your height. His hot hands slide your exposed, sweaty thighs, gripping at the flesh.

"I believe you told me you had someone else's name written on your ass," he whispered against your lips. When you opened your eyes, his were still closed, and your pussy thrummed at how into it he looked. Just like on stage. "That true, baby?"

"Maybe," you whispered back. "Wanna see?"

He wasted no time in spinning you around, his arms reaching around your waist to unbuckle your cargo pants. Yanking them down, he inhaled sharply at the sight of you clad in just a black thong, with "J.ONE'S" written on your right asscheek, signed with a heart next to it.

"Holy shit," he muttered breathlessly in your ear, kneading at your flesh, driving mewls from you as you bucked up against him. It felt way too good. "You were just planning on giving this pussy to me tonight, weren't you?"

You were on fire. Nothing could cool you down, as his words were only lighting you up further, making you unbelievably hot. "I was hoping I'd get lucky."

"I'm the lucky one," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. A cute moment in this bubble of sex around you two. "I bet you taste amazing, huh?"

Plucking your thong out the way, he ran one finger down your slit, from your clit to your hole which clenched around nothing. Pressing further against you, he slid in the long digit, immediately sliding it back out and messily fingerfucking you just to feel your writhe against his chest. Your pussy aches for more and he gives you just that; adding one more, two more fingers until he's stretching you out, feeling out a rhythm with his fingers. It's fast, so fast you can barely think straight, and once he swipes the pad of his thumb over your clit you're a goner, sucking in his fingers as you cum all over them.

It's quiet for a moment, other than the sound of you breathing heavily against the door. Then, the sound of Jisung licking his fingers invades the air.

"Just as sweet as you look," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "Can I fuck you now, baby?

The fact that he's asking surely makes you drip. His fingers are steadily stroking your pussy, even sliding up to prod over your rim, your eyelids fluttering.

"Yes, please, Hannie," you permit him through shallow breaths. "Please fuck me."

He purposefully goes slow with tearing open the condom wrapper, and you can only imagine how sexy he looks sliding the rubber over his cock. You try to take a peak but he stops you, whispering "ah ah ah" as the hand finds the back of your head, making you face forward.

"I'll let you see the next time we meet up," he whispers, sliding his tip between your folds.

Next time. He wants to see you again.

He delves inside you, and all the tension from the concert snaps as soon as he's as deep as he can get. Pleasure soars through your body with every inch that slides up into your pussy. His hands are tight against your hips, and he can't help but roam his palms over your thighs, especially over his name-pulling out and snapping back into you.

He fucks what belongs to him. He doesn't want to go slow and neither do you, nails scratching against the door as he rams into you at a steady, almost melodic pace. He doesn't shy away from being quiet either, his voice making you clench even tighter. Is it possible that he sounds just as good moaning for you as he does rapping?

"Definitely gonna write about this pussy," he grunts in your ear, staying deep inside you and rolling his hips in little circles, which causes you to sigh wistfully. "Write about how it's already got me addicted."

His hand comes up to find your left breast as he starts fucking you again, squeezing at your already hard nipples. "This bra, too. I'm stealing it. Just so you know."

You're too lost to respond. You can almost feel yourself going dumb, not caring about anything around you or anyone that can hear as he moves. You can tell he's the same way--slapping your ass every other second, leaning forward to dig his teeth in your shoulder when you position your hips up on his cock.

"Baby.." he starts, his hands finding their way to your chest now, holding onto you like he's about to lose it. "Baby, I'm gonna nut."

"Me too, me too," you join him in chants, both of your voices high and needy. "Don't stop. Don't stop.."

He fucks into you harder, quicker, his grip tight on your body as he nears the edge. In just a few more quick thrusts you're cumming around him, head falling back once you feel his condom filling with thick warmth. You're shaking at this point, too weak to even stand—but he's got you, holding you up and somehow maneuvering the two of you to the small couch in the room.

Most people would think lying on a random rapper after sex, sticky and wet, is the grossest thing ever. But you think of it as the perfect end to your night.

"...Hey."

"Hm?" You look up at him.

"I really want that bra. Y'know, as like, a souvenir."

Yep, you think. Perfect ending.

[akallia]

how to preserve a building, part 1

heyyyyy :> I definitely didn't disappear for a few weeks or anything haha. ummm school has been extremely stressful, but I really was feeling the need to write, and this just sort of ... came to me. idk. this is a part one so look out for the next part. I'm not planning on making a full-fledged fic out of it, but it was just going to be too many words for one part. so it's a two-parter (maybe three). as for the story itself, consider it a crossover between my year of rest and relaxation and anything dark academia. enjoy Levi nation ily

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Word count: 3k

Concept: deciding to let yourself go while maintaining your reputation as the university's star student was probably the worst mistake you've ever made. but things get even more difficult with the entrance of transfer student Levi Ackerman, the only one who seems to be able to out-talk you...

CW: language, alcoholism, depressive episode, elitist academia environment, ego problems (???)

Content UTC!

It had gotten bad. A little bit out of control, maybe. You weren’t sure how to talk about what had happened, because nothing really did happen. Maybe you burnt yourself out, did too much too soon. Either way, it didn’t really matter; the Freudian rationale was inconsequential, for in this moment you were too gone to care.

Eddie’s wasn’t always this packed, but tonight was the homecoming football game, and you had the misfortune of attending a Big 10 school. Homecoming wasn’t just a football game, but also an excuse for the entire student body to get blackout drunk and party no matter the final score of the game. Though you had to admit, the winning streak your school’s team was on definitely helped the atmosphere. It was… nice, in a way. Twice the size of the typical Friday night crowd. Yes, you decided, it was nice. More people to lose yourself in. Just a cog in the machine that was the dance floor.

These thoughts attempted to pierce their way through your alcohol-addled brain, your conscious side only grasping at the vague sentiment of what you were feeling rather than the entire phrase the hidden sober part of your brain had conjured up. It didn’t matter. You were wearing a new pair of heels you’d found at a vintage store along with the tightest dress to ever grace your closet, and you felt marvelous. Originally, your aforementioned wardrobe only knew muted grays and creams and blacks, all turtlenecks and blazers and wide-leg slacks. Oh how scandalized they must have been when they were unceremoniously pushed to the side and folded away to make room for bodycon dresses, tiny strappy tops and platforms. You felt a perverse pleasure in the despair those clothes must have felt.

The errant limbs pulsed in time with the beat, doused in an array of never-ceasing lights that caught on the old disco ball in the center of the ceiling, antiquated in this pub-turned-nightclub that had become so popular tonight. A small part of you perhaps felt a little bit sad at the thought. Poor little disco ball. You danced in the center of the floor, heat pushing up against you from all sides, small swipes of varying garments catching your ever-bare skin. As you danced, you pondered the old disco ball. The fancy club lights almost pierced straight through it, and it was sort of… beautiful in its pathetic state.

As though it were never there.

–

The mornings after were always the worst.

There was a point in time when you adored mornings. Your proud parents always called you an early bird, and your teachers in high school praised you as a go-getter. Student leadership workshops, NHS meetings, club presidency and officer elections, extracurriculars galore, immaculate grades–it didn’t get much more perfect than that. And on top of that, people liked you. At least you thought they did. Everyone smiled at you and said hi in the hallways. You were even prom queen one year. You were… social. High school was good.

College was good, too, up until a point.

Yes, mornings were always the worst. You and your body both agreed. You rolled yourself unceremoniously out of bed, barely missing the heels from last night. You kicked them under the bed. You were not having it today. You stretched, cold not-under-the-blanket air latched onto your stomach from your shirt riding up–wait. This was not your shirt. At all.

You panicked a bit, you won’t lie. It’s one thing to lose yourself almost every night to alcohol and dance the night away, but it’s an entirely different thing to lose yourself to a person. All your newfound vices aside, you would not let the vice of lust overcome you. You weren’t a virgin, but you had told yourself that while you let yourself go on your present downward spiral, the one thing you would swear off is men. You’d promised yourself a lot of things in the past few years and had broken most of them, but for some reason this one stuck around in your brain. So why the hell were you wearing a button down and why the hell was there a man in your bed?

“Don’t look so surprised,” the man in your bed said in response to your small gasp, facing away from you. He was bare chested with only a muscular shoulder and bicep visible from under the twisted covers, a shock of black hair standing out against the cream of your bed sheets even in the dim lighting of your pit of a room. “You were the one all over me.”

The man stood up, running long fingers through his hair, still not turning to you. He was wearing slacks and still had socks on.

“Did…did we…” you sputtered.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” And with that, he slipped into a hoodie he picked up off the floor (your favorite hoodie, you bemoaned internally), picked up his loafers from by the door, and left your bedroom without even a glance your way.

You stood in absolute shocked silence for about a minute after hearing the distant telltale creak of your apartment door opening and closing before stumbling your way into the kitchen for a much-needed glass of water and some Advil, still pondering what had happened.

What had happened? As you put some poptarts in the toaster and vaguely regarded the abundance of empty takeout boxes from the Burmese place downstairs, you decided you wouldn’t dwell on it. He said you hadn’t done anything, and the fact that he was still wearing pants relatively calmed you. So, as you had a habit of doing lately, you forgot all about it and continued on with your day, mostly unaffected by this anomaly in your daily routine.

Ah, yes. Your daily routine.

Today was just like any other day, though it was a Saturday which meant you had no classes. No, you thought, brain still fuzzy. That doesn’t sound right. You chewed your overcooked poptart as you reached in the depths of your memory for what you were forgetting. Oh yeah! I proctor a midterm today. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and completely destroyed any progress the Advil had done, a headache already forming. You hated proctoring. Standing in a room for two hours at a time, reading instructions, and actually monitoring the students. It was so terribly dull, and you hated having to rat people out for academic dishonesty. At one point in time, it would have boiled your blood to see someone cheat on a test, but now that you just didn’t care anymore, you just didn’t care anymore. Who cares if Johnny So-and-So looks off Miranda Don’t-Know-Don’t-Care’s test? Not your concern.

You sighed and threw the second poptart away, feeling slightly nauseous from the sugar. You hadn’t been eating much lately, which was fine by you; it took much less alcohol to get you drunk when you hadn’t eaten all day, and that meant your night was considerably less expensive. Seeing as it was almost one, you decided it would probably be a good idea to go through the motions and get ready for your job.

Your room was a pigsty. Even in your current bender you were mildly disgusted by it. Your desk was a disaster, textbooks and random papers irreverently stacked and disorganized and covered in miscellaneous makeup brushes and wipes from the night before. Not a single surface had been dusted or vacuumed or cleaned in any manner in months. You forced yourself to do laundry at least once a week, so your closet wasn’t too terrible, but there were still clothes everywhere that you had only worn once and couldn’t bring yourself to put in the hamper.

Oh well, you thought. You grabbed a turtleneck that was slung over your desk chair and begrudgingly forced your head through the stretchy opening before grabbing the first pair of semi-professional pants from the back of your closet. That was good enough. You checked your phone, which was at around 20% due to your late-night disarray and subsequent… encounter with whoever you had woken up next to. What a pain. You’d have to charge it while proctoring and then you’d really be miserable.

You didn’t even glance in the mirror on your way out.

One bus stop later and you were in Handen Hall. For being the main front and lifeblood of the university’s literature department, they sure had gone without creativity in the naming process. You scoffed. Just another dead rich white man’s name in gold. Give me a break. You were a few minutes ahead of schedule, arriving precisely at 12:55. Old habits die hard. You may be a loser and a borderline alcoholic throwing away your academic prospects, but you would always be punctual.

“Ah, Miss Reader,” Professor Minn greeted you as you marched through the rows of occupied lecture hall seats towards his desk. “Are you sure you’re alright to proctor today? You don’t look quite well.” His old, kind eyes were a sight for sore eyes and you felt a tug in your stomach at the geezer’s concern for you.

Your continuously misplaced daddy issues had landed on this guy full force when you first arrived at the university. Professor Minn recognized your prowess from the beginning, placing you in advanced classes reserved for honors college upperclassmen as a freshman, helping you every step of the way. You supposed you had attached feelings of a familial sort to him early on when you were new to independence and feeling a smidge lost in the academic mumbo-jumbo. You had known him for five years now, as you were a grad student now, and even in your current half-year state of misery he had never asked questions and only ever been there to support you. If anything could get through to you, it would be him. But you’d never tell him that.

“Yes, Professor. I’m fine,” you grumbled. “Just had a bit of a rough night. Couldn’t sleep, you know?” You tried to laugh it off. Nobody in the department knew what was up with you, but you knew they were all talking. Everybody knew there was just something off. You had put in painstaking work to make sure that nobody ever found out about your midnight charades and growing alcoholism. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“If you say so,” he responded, looking dubious as he adjusted his perpetually crooked glasses. He definitely had been wearing the same pair since the beginning of his academic career.

Professor Minn prepared himself to leave, shuffling papers and storing them away safely in his trusty leather messenger bag. As you plugged your phone into the outlet behind his desk, he cleared his throat.

“One more thing,” he said, looking a bit off-kilter. Not physically ill, you thought as you turned around to face him, just… concerned? “A very good friend of mine said that they were worried about you. I would just like to say that if you need anything, anything at all, I will do my best to help you with it.” His eyes were so earnest. You wished he’d just shut his mouth. If he said much more of that gushy stuff you’d absolutely fall apart, and your charade had been so perfect for so long that you couldn’t afford for it to crumble now.

You pushed down those feelings and responded with a chipper, “I’m fine, grandpa. Thanks for the concern” and an irreverent eye roll.

Minn looked distressed briefly before nodding and slowly moving his old bones out of the lecture hall.

You looked at the clock. This was going to be a long two hours.

–

It wasn’t as bad as you were anticipating. In fact, it was just what you needed. The two and a half hour long silence felt great after the hubbub of the previous night and the confusion from your morning. It was like a nice, relaxing lie-in that you were getting paid for. And seeing as this was a senior seminar with most students only a year younger than you, they were perfectly well behaved. It was marvelous.

The same could not be said of the rest of your weekend.

You stayed in your apartment the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday, occasionally going downstairs to nab leftovers from the buffet. Netflix played whatever it wanted without stopping once, and you took a quick five-minute shower at 2 am Saturday night to stop yourself from falling asleep while drunk–there was no way in hell a cop would find you dead because you’d choked on your own vomit. You think you’d simply die. Ha. Ha.

In all honesty, you don’t really remember the rest of your weekend. It wasn’t because you were drunk. On the contrary, you only drank Saturday night because you were bored. You weren’t drowning your sorrows, so you just sat and stared at the TV and completely shut down for a glorious 36 hours. For some reason, you didn’t feel like going out. You didn’t feel like doing anything at all, and so… you didn’t.

But Monday morning did eventually arrive in a flurry of falling leaves and biting winds and gray skies, and your responsibility as a student arrived in equal force. You wished academia would choke and die.

It was like any other morning. You got up, barely brushed your teeth, braided your hair so you didn’t have to brush it, and threw on a random borderline acceptable outfit for your class that wasn’t really a class. As a grad student, you mostly taught 1- and -200 level classes, did independent research, and talked about intellectual bullshit in small groups with other grad students and professors. The intellectual bullshit was your favorite part. You’d learned long ago that many people in academia did not actually have the intellect for their fields and that you could talk circles around them. Thus, your “classes” were a perfect opportunity for you to not put in any real work and spout nonsense for hours at a time to a rapt, adoring group.

As usual, you were the last person to arrive. While you were still on time, making your way up the ranks of overachievers meant that you were often outshone in punctuality and ass-kissing. This maybe used to bother you, but now it didn’t. In fact, your newfound self awareness made the social observation that much more fun. You could laugh at not just other people, but also the stupidity you yourself once had! Hilarity ensued in your mind.

The classroom was a small conference room in the archaic school library. The library itself was ancient, but the new additions were wonderfully modern and oh-so fancy. You loved the way the projectors retracted into the ceiling and how the blinds were remote-controlled. The central library would always have your heart, but you just felt so damn important in the new conference rooms, even if they lacked the charm of the long oak tables you once studied at during your undergrad days.

You flung yourself down into one of the two remaining available seats at the table with nothing but your phone on your person, your classmates giving you wary looks. Everyone else had laptops and books open, already scribbling god-knows-what on their university-sponsored portfolios. More intellectual bullshit, no doubt. You smirked inwardly. You hoped today would have something or someone interesting.

“Good morning, Miss Reader,” the department head greeted you warmly. You knew her name at one point at the beginning of the first semester, but you couldn’t recall it now. It had been filed away into the “unimportant” section of your brain, along with the names of most of the people in this class, which was a smattering of arts and humanities grad students. You knew most of them were working towards a master’s in literature or language, but many of them were history students as well. You were a bit of a special case due to the nature of your  relatively obscure degree, but you knew you’d show them up in Jeopardy on any day.

“Good morning to you too, ma’am,” you replied cordially. While you had convinced yourself you didn’t care, you would still talk the talk when you had to. This was one of those times.

“It’s so rare to see you here these days. What have you been up to in your absence?”

The room went still and everyone looked up from their business. You were a smidgeon surprised. What balls. Everyone in academia knew that you didn’t pry into personal lives. You were there to study and to learn, not to uncover everyone’s skeletons. While you were a bit of a celebrity on campus to the intellectual crowd, you hadn’t expected this at all, and least of all from the department chair.

But alas, you were saved from having to answer as the door closed noisily and someone entered the room, taking the final open seat next to you.

“Sorry for my lateness, some shithead made my tea wrong.”

Your world turned on its axis. Not only was the newcomer already speaking your language, but he was also the man who you’d woken up next to Saturday morning.

Next Part

[iwasbored777]

Felix : Did you manage to get my uncle's Miraculous ?

Lila : Of course I did. That moron gave me the Bee, cause he obviously knew that brat Chloe would've just failed him again, and I took that opportunity to Venom his ass and steal his Miraculous too.

Felix : You're such a hot twisted evil b*tch, babe.

Lila : Awwww, you are too, darling.

Felix : What are you gonna do with these now ?

Lila : I'm gonna use the Butterfly to destroy Ladybug and Cat Noir and show Gabe how a real Hawk Moth looks like and I'm thinking of making you my new Bee, darling.

Felix : Wait, Bee ?!? Did you hit your head woman ? That Miraculous is a frickin hair comb, you're delusional if you think I'm gonna wear that.

Lila : Can you stop complaining already ? It's not my fault your stupid uncle lost all the other Miraculous you gave him, this is literally all I could take from him ! And reminder that Ladybug and Cat Noir kicked your ass too and retrieved the Peacock as well, so if you want to get it back from them and make sure you won't get your feather ass erased, you're gonna need to put your big boy pants and wear a damn hair comb.

Felix : But why don't you wear that hair comb yourself and give me the Butterfly instead ?

Lila : Cause I look amazing in purple, duh. And the Bee used to be Chloe's Miraculous and she's now my bestie and I can't betray my bestie like that, you know ?

Felix : But, you want to give it to me and not her ?

Lila : Cause she's an incompetent loser, obviously. C'mon darling, you're perfect for the role, after all, you're also a blonde rich cosplayer brat, you literally couldn't have been a better fit for the Bee even if you had asked for it.

Felix : I still refuse to wear a frickin hair comb.

Lila : Fine, I don't need your fragile masculine ego anyway, I'm just gonna go ask Chloe to help me as Queen Bee, I'm sure she's gonna accept it.

Felix : Wait, I changed my mind. I'm gonna wear the Bee.

Lila smirking : Oh really, but I thought ...

Felix : I still despise this whole situation, but if it means that I can take that gloating brat's Miraculous away from her, then I'm gonna do it.

Pollen : How can I serve you, my King ?

Felix : God, as if it wasn't already bad enough that I need to wear a hair comb, but now I also have a total simp as my Kwami. Hopefully, trolling that brat as the new evil Bee holder will make all of this worth it.

Pollen: Wait... Adrien, what are you doing with Lila?

Félix: I'm not Adrien, I'm Félix.

Pollen: Oh, I see. My bad. For a second there I was wondering why Adrien has this ugly hairstyle and that ridiculous outfit.

Félix: What's wrong with my outfit?

Pollen: No offense but you look like a waiter.

Lila: Thank you, sister! I told him this. It's just weird. Why won't he wear a blazer or something instead of that vest?

Pollen: Also black and white? That's so out of season.

Félix: Did Chloé teach you how to annoy me?

Pollen: Actually you wouldn't believe this. It was Zoe. She got drunk one night and told me everything she thinks about you guys. It was hilarious!

Lila: What did she say about me?

Pollen: She said she wishes Marinette actually pushed you down the stairs.

Lila: But she DID! I nearly died!

Pollen: Oh please! She would never do this! She's f*cking Ladybug!

Lila: She's doing WHAT to Ladybug?!