#anyway heres to yet again not having accommodations when I need them but this time it's because I don't have insurance lol

[onrainynights]

about to be unemployed again hahahaha

[buckets-and-trees]

Imagine Bucky coming home to see you wearing nothing but a red ribbon tied in a bow around your waist and can’t help but stare at you while licking his lips. You stand there and say “are you just gonna stand there or are you going to unwrap your present?”

Well...

Would you complain if I added one more thing to this little ask, too?

And this was undoubtedly meant for Christmas, but... my Christmas tree is still up, so maybe other people still have their decorations out, as well...

Fandom: MCU Collection: The Brooklyn Boys Title: Big Red Bow Characters/Pairings: Bucky x female reader x Steve Word Count: 593

Content Warnings: Steve stays post-endgame, established threesome, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, nudity, kissing, light fingering

Logistical Notes: Probably fine to read if you haven't read any of the series, because this is legit just spicy fluffy stuf, literally no plot. We just haven't seen these boys in a LONG long time, and I thought this might be nice for them. Dividers from @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You take a deep breath as you hear your boys come in the front door. Steve walks past the doorframe, heading down the hallway, his arms laden with bags from their supply run. Bucky, however, glances into the living room, then turns his head back and stops dead in his tracks. He sets his bag down and quietly straightens back up, stepping into the room, eyes riveted on you.

You had been waiting for them, for this, and yet your stomach still flips and your cheeks heat as you see the hungry look wash over him.

He licks his lips, but continues to stare, unmoving from his place in the doorframe.

Your heartbeat is racing, but you will yourself to remain still, kneeling next to the Christmas tree, in front of the fireplace, hands folded delicately in your lap, in nothing but a large red ribbon, painstakingly tied in a bow. You had tied it around your chest, below your breasts so that the large loops of the bow just covered your nipples.

"Did you hear me?" Steve calls back down the hallway to Bucky. "I asked if you know where the–"

"Steve, come here," Bucky cuts him off.

You hear Steve's steps coming back down the hallway. "What? What is - oh," his voice drops when he turns up behind Bucky and spots you waiting for them. "Oh," this time more of a groan, and his tone sends a shiver down your spine.

But when they don't move, you bite your lip and drop your eyes. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to unwrap your present?"

"It's past Christmas and New Years, honey," Bucky teases.

You huff. The last two weeks had been so busy, and you'd just thought when you saw the discarded bow from your nephew's bike that it might be fun to play with, but today had presented the first possible moment you finally had time for something like this. "Sorry, it's a little corny."

"Ow." Steve thumps Bucky from behind, and you start to move, but Bucky says, "Stop!" and you do, surprised by his abrupt command. "'I like corny. I'm looking for corny in my life.'"

Immediately comfortable again, you grin and giggle at the very apt quote from The Holiday, which you'd watched twice with them - once after Thanksgiving, and again a few days before Christmas.

They both swiftly approach you now. Steve gets to you first and kneels in front of you, leaning in to capture your lips in an kiss. Kneeling next to you, Bucky trails his fingers over your shoulder and down your arm. He presses his lips along your shoulder and back up to your neck, nudging his way in until Steve moves away, and Bucky steals the chance to claim your lips.

Bucky is quick to lay back on the floor, pulling you to lay on his his chest. You can hear Steve quickly undressing.

"Who says we need to unwrap you in order to play anyway?" Steve asks. Then he's settling in behind you, kneeling in the space between your and Bucky's legs, spreading them wider to accommodate him. He draws his hand down along your spine, over your lower back, and he lets a finger tease down between your cheeks.

You gasp, and Bucky chuckles. "Always so responsive for us, and so pretty like this."

"Mhmm," Steve agrees.

"But I can think of quite a few ways we can use this bow tonight," Bucky adds, grinning over your shoulder up at Steve.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[gloomwitchwrites]

Punch Bowl

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship / situationship, sharing, oral sex (male & female receiving), unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), multiple creampie, vaginal fingering, sex on top of and over a desk, cum swallowing, praise, anal sex, double penetration, multiple positions, light dom/sub dynamics, F/M/M/M/M

Word Count: 3k

At a required work holiday party, Captain Price leads you away to his office for a bit of fun. But the rest of Task Force 141 is interested, and for now, Price is willing to share you.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Behind the drinks table, you stand with your arms crossed, watching the rest of the room. You’re on punch bowl duty because every fucking year someone manages to spike it. It’s never been on your watch, but over the years you’ve begun to suspect a few possible culprits.

But really you don’t give a shit, and you don’t want to be here anyway.

There is nothing you like less than being forced to attend a mandatory work holiday party. Your face always aches from smiling by the end of it, and you have no social battery. You’d much rather be at home with a glass of wine, greasy takeout, and a book.

Every time someone approaches the table, you snag a plastic cup, ladle in some of the bright red beverage, and hand it off only to do it all over again. The worst part are the extroverts who don’t know how to shut the fuck up and talk your ear off for fifteen minutes before they find another victim.

It is exhausting. And awful. And you’re about five minutes away from pretending to be sick so you can go home to that wine, takeout, and book.

A figure blocks the room out of the corner of your eye. You turn, and freeze, realizing who it is that’s stepped in front of you.

It’s Captain John Price.

When you make eye contact with him, he smiles, and it’s so sultry that you already know what he wants. That’s the thing about you and John. It’s a weird, friends with benefits situation that is quickly starting to fall into feelings. Which is absurd. The two of you shouldn’t get involved beyond what it already is, and yet every time the two of you come together, it’s more passionate than two people simply fucking.

“Captain Price,” you acknowledge, reaching for a plastic cup, pretending everything about this interaction is normal.

“I need to talk to you,” he replies.

I need to talk to you is just code for “I want to fuck you.”

You keep a straight face, even as Price’s mouth twitches with amusement. “What about?” you ask, ladling in some of the bright red punch into a plastic cup.

The upper half of Price’s body twists slightly, and then he’s reaching for a nearby recruit. Price grips their shoulder and spins them around.

“Cover the punch bowl.” There is a hint of a growl in his voice, and that surprises you.

“Yes, sir.” The recruit nearly stumbles around the side of the table, obviously flustered.

There is no negotiation with Price. Rarely do you ever push back when he wants to be inside you.

You simply step around the table and allow the nervous recruit to take your previous position. Price steps into your space and nods toward the exit. The two of you move casually, as if this is routine and not at all strange. You’ve done it plenty of times before, and so far, no one has said anything.

Even if they did, what would they say? You’re not even SAS, and he is not your superior. You’re stationed here for work, and you’ve had to interact with John on multiple occasions for your job. The two of you walking away to talk is normal. At least, on the surface.

You and Price move out into the connecting hallway. From there, the two of you head for his office. The moment he shuts the door behind you, Price pushes you up against it, trapping you with his body.

He plants one hand directly above your head while the other squeezes your hip. Price presses in, one knee slotting between your legs, forcing them to open to accommodate his muscled thigh.

“You want to talk?” you murmur as his lips move toward your mouth.

“We’re talking,” he replies, closing the distance.

Price’s tenderness is not a soft thing but a fiery heat that burns you from the inside out. His kisses are fierce, purposeful, and each one is a brand that you carry with you in the moments the two of you are separated. But there is a desperate, underlying movement to each of his touches and kisses. Price is wanton but never needy and rarely rushes.

Your hands go out to rest against his chest, but he’s bending down, sliding his hands over your ass and lifting you up.

“John,” you breathe, clinging to him as he deposits you on top of his desk.

“Fighting me on this?” he asks, sinking to his knees before you. Price lifts your bent knees, placing one over each of his shoulders.

Then his hands are sliding up your thighs to your hips. Once there, his fingers dig in and drag you to the very edge of the desk. The friction pushes on your skirt, forcing it to slide up to your hips where it bunches. At this angle, there is no way Price doesn’t see your red lacy underwear underneath.

“No,” you murmur as Price slides his index finger between the delicate fabric and your pussy. He lightly pulls, and then guides it to the side, revealing you to him.

Price lifts your hips one more time, guiding you a bit closer before his head dips to run his tongue along the soft flesh of your inner thigh. His tongue against your skin is divine, as if you’ve been apart for ages. Price licks, bites, and kisses until he leaves marks behind.

As he moves closer, the anticipation of Price tasting you begins to build. His warm breath is a caress against your skin, and it’s even more wanton when you feel it against your clit. Your fingers dig into the wood, and when you glance down between your legs, Price’s gaze moves upward, his mouth positioned at your opening.

You arch your back and flex your hips a bit to signal exactly what you want. But you know Price won’t deny you. He never does.

“Let your knees fall wider, love,” purrs Price. When you do, he licks your pussy from opening to clit.

It’s a deliberate, languid touch that lingers for a moment before Price does it again, this time swirling his tongue as he does so. Then, Price goes for it, flicking his tongue against your clit in quick, sharp bursts of movement that immediately make your toes curl.

Your orgasm blooms from nowhere, roaring forward as Price sucks your clit into his mouth. Falling back on your elbows, you moan loudly. One of your knees start to slip but Price is there to catch it, keeping your legs spread wide as he continues to lavish your clit.

You’re in absolute bliss as the orgasm hits in a series of waves that only dissipates once Price releases you.

“Do you want more?” he muses before teasing the opening of your vagina with the tip of his tongue. Your hips buck but Price’s hand presses down on your thigh, settling you back onto the table.

“Please,” you beg, voice a hoarse whisper.

“Only because you asked nicely,” he says, inserting two fingers inside you. Your body surrenders and you both groan with how nicely you take him. You almost collapse against the desk, your eyelids closing in pleasure at his touch.

Price bends his fingers to press upon that sensitive spot inside you and drags his fingers down and out, popping them into his mouth to suck them clean.

“Do any of you want a taste?” asks Price, his voice unusually loud for just the two of you. His fingers slip underneath the delicate lace as Price guides your underwear down your legs and past your heels.

Your eyes snap open and you push yourself up, the lazy haze of lust disappearing.

In front of you are Price, who kneels between your legs, and three other men. The door to the office is open, and a large man in a black balaclava shuts the door. It’s the rest of Task Force 141. John MacTavish, Kyle Garrick, and Simon Riley all linger near the door just behind Price.

You have no idea what Simon is thinking behind the balaclava, but Soap and Gaz have smirks on their faces. It’s not that you haven’t entertained the idea, because you have. All of them are sweet on you, even Ghost who is fucking terrifying to nearly everyone except you.

“I do, Captain,” replies Gaz, already moving to take Price’s place.

Price stands and steps out of the way, only for Gaz to immediately put his mouth on you.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and you feel Gaz’s gentle laugh against your skin.

Price saddles up to the side of the desk. His hand grabs the back of your head, twisting in your hair, and then he guides you toward him, your body slightly bent. With his other hand, he undoes the front of his jeans.

Instinctually, you reach for him, grasping his cock the moment it’s free of the zipper.

“Just like that,” groans Price as you take him into your mouth.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock before sucking him down again. With fist and mouth, you work Price until he’s murmuring your name. It’s growing more difficult to concentrate. Gaz is skilled, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers as he pumps them steadily in and out of you.

Soap and Ghost might be watching, waiting their turn, or both. But they’ll have their turn, and that excites you.

You choke around Price’s cock when it hits the back of your throat. Gaz swirls his tongue around your clit and that breaks you. The orgasm rises and you squeeze around Gaz’s fingers.

“That’s fucking beautiful,” says Gaz with a contented amusement that makes you feel gorgeous. It’s an appreciative comment, but you only have a moment to linger in it before Price’s hand on the back of your head keeps you in place.

“Can you swallow, love? For me?”

You nod, and then Price’s taste bursts on your tongue. He does not pull away, but makes you take all of it, and you are eager for every drop. Price draws away, his cock leaving your mouth in a wet pop. Some of your salvia sticks to the head of him, and he brushes it away along with whatever stays on your lips.

“Show me,” he says, and you open, revealing that you’ve swallowed every bit of him.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Gaz licks his lips, wiping off the bit of your release that still sits on his lips. He pushes up to standing, and then Ghost is right there, grabbing at you, dragging you off the desk. You nearly wobble when your feet hit the floor but he’s fast, making sure you don’t fall.

“I want you on your knees,” he says, and you immediately drop. “Eager. I like that,” purrs Ghost as he lightly traces the line of your jaw with his index finger.

When Ghost’s cock is free, you immediately wrap your fingers around the base, and you go for it. There is no teasing lick or kiss. You throat him, your lips hitting your hand as you do so.

“Fucking hell,” he groans. “You take it nicely. Don’t you?”

You moan around Ghost’s cock, basking in the praise. He is larger than Price, and you take as much as your throat will allow. The head presses roughly against the back of your throat, nearly causing you to gag. Instead of resisting, you relax into him, breathing through your nose, and that helps tremendously.

Your reward is another vocalization of Ghost’s pleasure. That deep, guttural moan of his goes straight to your pussy, and all you want to do is suck him dry. Fuck—suck all of them dry. Hollowing out your cheeks, you slide and bob your mouth along his shaft until Ghost nearly becomes a puddle at your feet. You may be on your knees before him, but you have all the control. It is thrilling. Having this power makes you bolder.

But the control is a fallacy, because the moment you begin to make this skull-faced man into a whimpering mess, someone is grabbing your wrists, pulling them behind your back as someone else latches onto the back of your neck.

You are held in place, and then Ghost does what he wants, fucking your mouth like you’re his little toy. With Price, the two of you usually share the control, switching the power between the two of you. But Ghost? He is completely domineering, steering this entire thing until you’re the one who is the whimpering mess.

“Fuck,” bites out Ghost, and then he’s yanking you off of him.

But he does not spill into his hand or on your face. Instead, he lifts you up, lightly plopping you down onto the desk. Your back hits the wood, and then Ghost is forcing your legs open, his hard cock sliding over your pussy.

“Eyes on me,” comes a voice near your head.

It’s Soap.

His large hand goes to your throat, then he’s tipping you back, and you’re opening wide, taking him down as Ghost pushes your legs wider to sink in. Your pussy flutters around Ghost, but your body is needy, and it greedily takes as much as he’s willing to give.

Ghost rolls his hips, pausing between each to help you accommodate to his size. Once you’ve taken him to the hilt, he begins to pound into you, every thrust bouncing you down Soap’s cock. Through the fabric of your oversized sweater, Soap palms your breasts, and this keeps you from sliding away from either of them.

You fall into a lust-filled haze. An orgasm roils up, passes through your body and out into your limbs. It sets every nerve alight, but neither of them stops. A second comes soon after, and it’s only then that you realize Ghost’s angle is the perfect alignment for him to rub on your clit as he thrusts into you.

Ghost’s thrusts become a stuttering thing that end with his own release. His hands go to your thighs. He guides them open, presses down on the insides, and Soap slips out of your mouth. He reaches over your body to also hold onto your thighs, keeping them open.

Everyone watches as Ghost fills you up, and when he slips out, he catches his release and presses it back inside. This is an act of ownership, but no one seems upset by it, which can only mean that they all plan to do this with you again. And that is something you’d never say no to.

All of you hang in the air for the moment, and then hands disappear only to be replaced by new ones. You’re flipped onto your stomach, and then dragged off until one foot is on the ground, one knee is on the top of the table, and you’re bent at the waist over the side of the desk.

Then Gaz is there, grasping your hips, taking Ghost’s place. He keeps you steady, thrusting upward in steady strokes that have you leaning back against him. Gaz’s head dips forward to rest against the side of your head, and the two of you is all there is until he comes, mixing himself inside you alongside Ghost.

But Soap does not take his place. Instead, Price steps up, sliding his hand to the back of your neck. He tugs gently, arching your neck and back so that you look into his face.

“How much more can you take, love?”

You lick your lips and consider. Already, you feel the soreness and ache slipping into your muscles, but it’s a good sensation, and you want more of it.

“Whatever you desire to give to me,” you answer softly, and Price’s expression is a pleased one.

With tenderness, Price eases your knee off the table, and releases his grip on your neck. “Go sit in Soap’s lap, love,” whisper’s Price, lightly smacking your ass as you wobble toward Soap.

Soap reclines in a chair in the corner. When you get close, he reaches out, grabbing you by the thighs, drawing you into his lap. You do not face him, but the room, your legs spread for everyone to see as Soap slides inside and starts bouncing you on his cock.

There is no embarrassment on your part. Your head falls back to lean against Soap’s shoulder as he takes control. Your eyes flutter, and you briefly glimpse Ghost kneeling between your legs. He pushes up his balaclava, and then your lids completely shut when his mouth comes down on your clit.

Ghost sucks it into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking against it at the same time. The contrast that is the two of them has you slipping into a whimpering mess. You cannot speak. There are only your fingers digging into someone’s flesh as the two of them bring you to yet another orgasm.

This orgasm has no end, and you don’t even realize Soap relinquishes control to Ghost until the large man is lifting you up, sliding his arms under your thighs to hold you aloft to fuck you while standing. The mix of them inside you begins to seep out around Ghost’s cock, and you can see everything happening between your bodies.

Your forehead rests against his shoulder, and then someone steps up behind you, pressing against your other entrance.

“Please?” It’s Price.

“Yes,” you groan as Ghost hits deep and it sends your back arching. It’s the only thing you manage to say, and it is a strangled sound.

Price is gentle as he eases in. The two of them take turns pumping in and out of you, until you’re a sweaty mess. Your sweater sticks to your skin, and you want it gone, but without the ability to form words, you simply deal with it, reveling in their shared taking

You surrender to them, allow them complete control. But you’re safe, protected, sandwiched between them. You slide one arm behind Price’s neck while the other rests on Ghost’s left shoulder. Removing your forehead from Ghost’s right shoulder, you lean back on Price and he turns his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

“It could always be like this,” he murmurs into your ear. “Would you like that?”

You nod, and you feel his smile against the line of your throat.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie

[hyacintheros]

Hii! Can you write headcanons for what it would be like for a female reader to share a dorm with marauders?(since first year) Maybe like girls dorms were full?? I know it makes no sense but I couldn't come up with anything else. Thanks in advance 🎀

This is such a thought though, you're cooking with this one, never done headcanons before, but I hope I can deliver your vision dovey!🥰🫡

Maybe there were too many first year females in Gryffindor, I mean record breaking and they weren't expecting it, so some girls had to be accommodated with the boys

Each dorm had 5 beds anyways, so the marauders were happy to host another person c:

First year would be a little awkward, not used to being co-ed, reader would definitely have her curtains drawn 85% of the time, made her own friends outside of the marauders treating them as roommates rather than friends

Second year is a little better, being now more used to the presence of the boys, maybe warming up to Peter's quiet personality, Remus’ bookworm behaviour, then to James’ happy go lucky attitude, then finally Sirius’ flirting. Being more adventurous and actually hanging out with them outside of their dorm, pulling little pranks here and there

By third year, she'd finally been let in on Remus’ Moony escapades, now an honorary member of the Marauders. This is also when everyone pledges to become animagi for Remus’ sake, telling the reader that she doesn't have to do this with them. She relents, wanting to do her best for Moony! When they all finally complete the animation process, reader finds out hers is a raccoon, earning the name ‘Bandit’, now attracted to anything shiny, like a niffler!

Fourth year is when she starts to realise that maybe there's more to her friendship with the marauders. Keeping her curtains open most nights, reading books with Remus on his bed, often falling asleep there. Listening to Jamie talk about quidditch while she does homework, picking flowers and leaves with Peter, and gossiping with Sirius about McGonagall. Though, she doesn't want to ruin the current dynamic they've got going on, instead, resigning to keeping her feelings bottled

Fifth year has reader in a twist, trying to balance a social life while studying for her O.W.Ls, while also trying to keep her feelings afloat. She spends most time hidden in a corner in the library, a spot none of the marauders are privy to. By Christmas, the boys feel as if they've done something wrong, their best friend and partner in crime won't hang out with them anymore. Before the break, they confront Bandit, needing to repair their friendship before any more damage is done. Confessing her feelings to them in the astronomy tower, she's ready to bolt. Before she can, James pulls her in, expressing that she's not alone in her feelings. Promising to work through a 5 person relationship, they are officially together by the end of the year.

Sixth year comes along, and so do rumours. Hogwarts had never seen a relationship like theirs, confused and oddly weirded out by its nature, turned to bullying the poor girl. She'd often hide out in the dorm after class and before meals, the pressure getting too much at times. Sirius is the one to bash the rumours, standing on the Gryffindor table before Easter break, shouting his undying love for Bandit and the other marauders! The rumours die down after that, and Bandit can finally walk the halls without being ridiculed again.

Last year, seventh year comes, a melancholic air around them, wishing they could spend more and more years at Hogwarts. What will they do after? James wants to be an Auror, Sirius a Quidditch star, Remus an Author, Peter a Herbologist. And reader? She's still trying to figure that out, thus taking all possible courses to help her out later. Most days are filled with endless studying, wishing she knew how to plan her life, yet she still finds time to pull some senior pranks on the younger kids, all harmless and joyful. Graduation comes sooner than expected, eager to see what life will bring across her path.

They all find an apartment in muggle London with the help of Bandit's parents. They had to custom make a bed that would accommodate all 5 of them with much room to cuddle with. James does end up being and Auror, Sirius following suit. Peter is furthering his studies on Herbology and Caring for Magical Creatures, while Remus attends a muggle University for an English degree. Bandit ended up for applying as a Potions teaching assistant back at Hogwarts, her love brewing at the cauldron ♡

I feel like headcanons are supposed to be short, maybe I'm silly *insert that cat voices gif* 

[rintoki]

when you sleep at night

characters: kafka x dom!reader

tw: somnophilia, dubcon, nothing too crazy actually relax

a/n: i guess this can be considered a second part to my first kafka smut, its like the exact same setting and dynamic.

MINORS DNI

the door opens easily as kafka steps into the entrance way, slipping out of her heeled boots and quietly making her way through the dark living room. all the lights in the house was out and it was eerily silent, through the dim lighting kafka strains her eyes to check the clock hanging on your wall.

11:37pm

you couldn’t possibly be sleeping this early yet. but, alas, you proved to be unpredictable to her once again as she turns the knob to your bedroom, pushing it open to reveal your sleeping form on the bed. her feet padded softly on the floor; taking slow, deliberate steps closer to the bed that you laid on.

kafka clicked her tongue, a tinge of annoyance blossoming in her chest when she sees that you were indeed fast asleep and not just pretending to mess with her. not that you were the type to do that anyway. she felt her finger twitch unconsciously, standing foolishly by your bed as she is once again reminded of how little you cared for her. despite her now regular visits to your residence, you never once welcomed her, nor have you ever made any type of accommodations towards her.

the woman breathes deeply, your familiar scent permeates the room and her body is quick to react to it. reminded of all the late nights spent together, how warm your body felt next to hers, and how good you made her feel. kafka shuts her eyes for a moment, deciding on what to do now. part of her knows that the right thing to do is to leave and come back another time, preferably informing you beforehand like you had asked of her.

but instead she remains in her spot; unmoving as she watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, your soft breasts hidden underneath the thin material of your pyjamas, and how easy it would be to simply unbutton it right now. kafka finds herself getting lost in her thoughts, eyes raking over your body as she thinks about everything she could do to you now. but more than anything, her purple eyes finally land on your hands; the same hands that brought her orgasm after orgasm. the very ones that hugged and caressed her body, how she wanted to feel them again.

and as if in a trance, kafka pushes her jacket off her shoulders, letting the expensive coat fall to the floor without a care. normally unheard of with how much she loves her coats, but now there’s no one here to see that. and there’s no one to witness as she peels off the layers of her clothing, her belly tightening with every passing second and soon the woman stood in nothing but her panties.

kafka crawls gingerly onto the bed, careful to not wake you as she eyes your hand resting by your side. she tests the waters, nimble fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your body. when you show no reaction does the excitement bubble up within her, her pussy already beginning to ache with need

inch by inch, she shuffles closer. until your relaxed fingers lay just underneath her clothed pussy, a wet spot now forming on her panties. kafka’s breathes deeply, trying to keep it even as she lowers herself onto your hand, feeling your fingers fold naturally under her weight.

a shaky breath escapes her at the feeling, slowly moving her hips back and forth on your curled fingers, not caring how awkward the position was. kafka watches your sleeping form carefully, but you showed no signs of waking up, still blissfully unaware and deeply asleep.

a small part of her was annoyed—that you didn’t wake up and catch her in the act, that she won’t get to see your reaction. but the larger part of her is now pushing off her panties, letting her bare pussy rub against the palm of your hand. it was warm, and the ridges brushed perfectly against her swollen clit. kafka shudders, her breathing turns heavy as she continues the slow rutting of her hips, allowing herself to enjoy the sensations until your hand was sufficiently lubricated from how much she leaked.

and with shaky hands, she positioned your fingers upright, aligning it with her hole before sinking down upon them. kafka nearly whines, biting back any sounds as your fingers penetrates her tight walls. she grips your wrist, holding them in place as the woman lifts her hips once again, this time pushing your fingers into her pussy. again and again, your fingers sunk deep into her warmth and kafka pants quietly. her mind was feeling dizzy from the entire situation, the fact that you weren’t even conscious now and yet you still managed to reduce her to this state. how even just your fingers was enough for her pussy to twitch and push back so desperately against your hand.

she squeezes her eyes shut, her head hung low and nearing the verge of her orgasm as she angles your wrist so that the tips of your fingers brushed against her spot. the sensitive patch of nerves singing in response as it felt like shocks ran through her body. kafka gasps loudly, unable to hold back her moans now as it almost felt like your hand was moving by itself. too far gone to put the pieces together even when your fingers begin to curl and thrust inside her, or when your thumb has suddenly begin to press against her clit at the same time.

her mouth hung open, panting breathlessly as her body felt like it was on fire. her hand wrapped helplessly around your wrist even as it moved by itself and her back arched, muscles flexing and her thighs trembled terribly. kafka was right on the edge, just a little more… just one more stroke, just one more thrust…

“agh…! fu—fuck, wha…!”

the woman felt every sensation in her body stop cold. before she’d knew it your hand was already ripped from her body, and her orgasm had come to a screeching halt. kafka nearly chokes, scrambling to her senses as she finally raises her head to face you.

from her flushed expression to her bare body, your cold eyes finally landed on your soaked fingers, covered in her wetness after having used it for her own pleasure. kafka watches with wide eyes; somewhere in her mind she understood that you had probably been awake for a while now, that you’d probably purposely fucked with her. brought her to the brink of an orgasm before ruthlessly ripping it away from her.

her heart pounds in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling as she waits for your next move, your next words. what will you with her now? she’s not that shameless to ask you to make her cum again after begin caught like that, but for whatever reason she could feel her pussy tightening again, waiting with anticipation of what you might do to her now.

[angeart]

I had to go back and re-read Elegy with this new info in mind and just, awwww Mumbo....the general panic of everything on top of THAT? I say again I wanna give him hugs

you have even MORE to tell about Mumbo tho? 👀 Yes I wanna know more, yes I wanna know more about him and Grian. When you're ready to share ofc :3

-🎀

ohhh i'm so happy you went back and reread with this new info <3 yeah he struggled so much there. it'll catch up to him i'm sure.

anyway! yes! more about boatem circus mumbo! [prev post here]

so technically speaking, scar bought him. it was a scam and all, but there was a small upfront fee scar paid in order to be able to get mumbo away. and mumbo is aware of this, unsure how to feel about it, even though scar waves it off as if it meant nothing. 

but, you know, if he was bought into any place… this one isn’t so bad. (it’s not bad at all.) 

he’s given all the accommodations he might need, and all the time to recover and come out at his own pace. and… it takes a while. but he does feel like he can’t stay still for too long, and there’s only so long he can pace around his room. 

he gets to meet other people (and their endless kindness). he gets to watch the circus performances and learn what they do, with the stress on the caveat it’s all voluntary and safe. he sees people freak out and others taking care of them. he sees people fall out of scheduled performances because they’re not doing well and nobody making a fuss about it. he sees all the aspects in which scar puts them above all else. 

and he feels like he owes him something, you know? 

but his only marketable skill is teleporting and… he doesn’t want to do that. not yet. he can’t.

he does help out however! in his own way. he knows his way around redstone, after all. and there isn’t a lot of it in the circus, but mumbo feels like he can still be of some use! so he helps set up and improve lights and effects for the stage, a task that helps him come out of his shell as he gets excited about all the innovations and little ways he can add to things without being in the spotlight.

he also helps in the backstage.

but there’s one more skill he picks up: sewing.

as an enderman, he’s tall and it’s hard to get him clothes that’d fit. but he thinks maybe he can learn to solve that himself. and he finds that sewing and tailoring calms him. even if he’s only doing it for himself for a while.

he makes his suit himself. and! the other crew members like it so much they start asking him for specially tailored stage clothes too! 

scar softly tells him with a smile that if mumbo ever felt like he had a debt, it’s now surely paid. just to further reassure him, because he knows mumbo was worried about that for the longest time. (and it does bring mumbo some relief, to know that. he can start feeling equal with everyone. more free.) 

… and then grian comes along :3

[lost-inthedream]

SF9 reaction to you asking for a boob massage

Pairing: sf9 x female reader

Warning: bad words, sweet-talking, tongue-kissing, neck-sucking, nipple play.

Genre: smut

Bonus song rec: Make up, by Sam Kim feat. Crush

Context: In all drabbles, the reader wears a blouse with no bra.

Youngbin:

Rises an eyebrow and shows a malicious smile. You can see in his eyes how your request made some gears roll in his head. "Just a massage? That's all you need now?" He tilts his head to the side to suck on your neck and starts kneading your clothed breasts with both hands. The way he moves down to your collarbones, wets your skin with his tongue is noisy and lewd but he takes his time before pulling your blouse up and settling you on your bed.

Inseong:

To your surprise, he straight up asks you to take off your top and lie down on the bed, then he straddles your hips. Inseong takes one second just to contemplate your state, the way your boobs accommodate in such a position is a perfect view. "Why are your nipples already hard?" he provokes. You suddenly become shy so your eyes move away. He flicks your nipples before going all the way for an actual massage.

Jaeyoon:

"Do you really think I will be able to massage them?" he doubts while cupping your tits, verifying their weight for the hundredth time. They have the ideal weight for his hands, he bites his lip while waiting for you to say anything. "Why wouldn't you?". Jaeyoon ignores your question for a moment, he has to slide his hands under your shirt before anything. Once his palm is directly touching your skin, he gasps and explains "I can't touch it for long, I need to suck on them."

Dawon:

"Only if you give my tiddies a massage too" he laughs. Honestly, he cracks you up. Anyways you eventually say yes since he looks to be waiting for a confirmation. Sanghyuk hugs you from behind and starts his ministrations, he is not the most delicate but it is far from hurting you. Just the way he firmly groups both your breasts together is a bit harsh. "I love the way you can't be apart from me, doll. You need me pulling moans from you all the time, right?"

Zuho:

warning: use of the word 'daddy'

That is his weak spot: your tits. They are soft, beautiful, they are his. He hates admitting but his mouth waters when he thinks about your boobs. He was working on something and he usually refuses to stop and fuck you when you ask for it. So this time you tried something unexplored. His eyes naturally drop to your breasts as soon as he hears that word. "Oh, shit" he hisses. You come closer toying with your cleavage and he just pulls you onto his lap, his hands immediately stimulating your hardening buds. "Daddy, I said 'massage'".

Rowoon:

He gives you tits massages without you asking for it but you can surprise him nonetheless. He is dressing up after his shower and you observe his broad chest and broad body as a whole. "Come here already, I need a massage... on my boobs". He turns to you automatically. "Uh? Did you say boobs?" You nod with a cute pout on your lips. In a second, he lies by your side and hugs your middle, reaching one breast with his soft hand. You give him a scalp massage as payment.

Yoo Taeyang:

You said tit massage, he heard tit massage but he caught you and now he is tongue-kissing you with his hands underneath your shirt. You knew that would happen, Taeyang is absolutely unable to touch a pair of boobs without having anything in return. You can't help smiling against his hungry lips and, eventually, making him question what is happening. "You're so precious, ma boy". Both you and him have drool all around your lips. He smiles shyly so you pull him closer again. His hands under your shirt, your fingers playing with the zipper of his pants.

Hwiyoung:

Gives you the said massage very diligently, maybe too diligently. He also straddles you so he can see all your facial expressions and the way your nipples respond. He is very collected, yet he is becoming breathless. "Fuck, Hwi, why do you have to do it so well?" He smiles like an idiot. "Am I doing it right?" His voice is a fragile whisper that pokes your nerves even more. He continues flicking your nipples with his thumbs from time to time and you moan louder in response.

Chani:

Girl, Chani has spoiled you too much, pushing his hands under your t-shirt way too often. Tonight, he was just exhausted and spooning you, sometimes leaving chaste smooches on your neck. "Babe?" you call him. He barely hums in response, and then you ask for the massage. He chuckles and starts sweet-talking you right away "Sure, my love. Let me free your beautiful jewels. You know how much I love them, right?"

[b0n3d0g]

posting my unfinished wips from metaltango week because I think they should be allowed to escape my wip folder even if they aren't done o7

this one was intended for day 7- unhealed wounds/lingerie

Leon was starting to get woozy. He made it home to his apartment building in one piece, but skipping medical was starting to catch up to him. The thought of having to spend any more time in another hospital science-y setting sounded like hell. He'd rather just patch himself up at home, where he could then lay in his own bed and sleep knowing where all the defenses were.

Well, there was also Jack. After being discharged Leon had been able to strong-arm him into staying at his place. It was like coaxing a stray dog from his well defended corner, but eventually they found an arrangement that accommodated them both.

With the close proximity, and shedding of their Major and subordinate roles, what were once only lingering looks and wandering hands during sparring became something more tangible. They had yet to put any defining label on it, and on the nights they didn't fuck they'd still sleep in their separate rooms, but those nights were starting to become far and few between. Whatever it was Leon was content with it, having another physical person to return home to made crawling out of dilapidated labs a bit more worth it.

Finally making it to his door he unlocks it with some struggle, whatever injury making his hands shake was not appreciated. Still in mission mode he enters silently, stalking through the house to their shared bathroom. Without thinking as to why it may be mostly closed, Leon swings the door fully open.

Standing there was Jack, wearing a deep maroon lacy babydoll dress. The skirt portion was sheer enough that Leon could see the outline of the matching thong. It looked like he'd been adjusting the dress’ straps before Leon had barged in.

He'd startled as the door opened, at first squaring his shoulders off in the way he always did when he felt like he needed to guard himself. He took a second to look Leon over, brow immediately furrowing at the state he's in. “Did you skip medical again?”

Leon chuckles, face heating. “I feel like there's more important things to discuss here.”

“You have a problem with this?” Again he assumes that defensive stance.

“No.” Leon sways on his feet, holding his hands up in playful defense. “You look good.”

The tips of Jack's ears flush as he shakes his head. “Go sit on the couch, you shouldn't be standing right now.”

“Yes, sir.” Leon gives a mock salute, and wobbles off to the living room.

He makes it, barely, flopping down over the arm to lay across the couch with a low groan. The ceiling above him slowly began to spin, so to prevent the onslaught of nausea Leon closed his eyes. He almost knocked out right there, but a sharp flick to his forehead kept him conscious. With a groan he gingerly moves to sit up straight, blearily looking down at Jack as he fusses with the first aid kit.

“You really need to quit skipping the infirmary.” Jack tenderly lifts his shirt, maneuvering it off of Leon without agitating to many of his injuries. His hands ghost the bruises, purple bordering on black.

“But I've got such a pretty nurse at home.” Leon's got that boyish grin on his face, it twists into a grimace when Jack's hands reach a nasty gash on his side.

“This is going to need stitches,” Jack eyes the gash with his brow furrowed, “and we don't have anything to numb that.”

“Can't feel any worse than when I got it.” Leon gives a half shrug, poorly suppressing the wince at the motion.

Jack looked unconvinced but carried on anyway, cleaning any dirt and grime from the wound to prepare it for stitching. If this was the first time he was doing this he'd have more bite, some ire at how little Leon cared for his own well being. Having done this on several other occasions however, the best way to keep Leon amicable to care was to lay off for now. Once he's better he'll get an earful of how reckless and idiotic he's being.

“Try not to bite your tongue out.” The deadpan of Jack's delivery made it hard to tell if he was joking or not. Either way Leon takes a large anticipatory breath as the needle is pushed into his skin. He white knuckles the couch cushion, shakily breathing out as the first stitch is completed.

He tries to keep his focus on Jack, and not the repeated methodical jabs to his side. It works, for the most part, he wasn't lying when he said his nurse looked pretty. Idly he wonders how long Jack has had that getup, and if there were more dresses like it hidden away his drawers.

One thing about Jack was that he's efficient, and before long the stitches are done. He moves to stand, bundling up the bloodied gauze and disinfectant wipes.

Leon sticks out his lip in a mock pout. “Aren't you supposed to kiss it better?”

He intended it to be a joke, a bit of light ribbing, but a desperate want creeps its way into his voice. He'd been gone on that mission for days, and ended up missing Jack a great deal. That was another reason he favored the at home treatment, not that he'd say it out loud.

Jack side-eyes him, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Go take a shower and we'll talk.” He stalks off and out of sight to dispose of the contaminated materials.

Leon feels his face heat up. With great care he stands and staggers his way to the bathroom. He strips down, assessing what's covered in a tolerable amount of grime to keep. Which ends up being nothing but his boots.

Stepping into the shower he turns the water up to scolding hot, and hurriedly scrubs himself down. He'll say it's because of the fresh stitches, and not the promise of a “talk”.

As he's toweling himself off he spots a pair of boxers that had been laid out for him. Jack must've left them there for him when he was fetching the first aid kit. The thought leaves something fluttering in his chest. He scurries out of the bathroom, feeling better but still rather woozy.

He opens the door to his room, and isn't surprised to find Jack sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Leon slots himself into his place in Jack's lap, relaxing back into the arms that wrap around his waist.

“Thought you'd take longer actually.” Jack kisses his neck, the skin still wet from Leon's damp hair dripping down it. “Pretty boy like you must have some long routine.”

Leon snorts, dipping down to connect their lips. The kiss started off gentle, feeling a little too much like home.

Leon rolls his hips, tonguing at the scars on Jack's lip in an attempt to escalate.

Jack slides his hands under his thighs lifting him up to lay him back on the bed.

aaand thats as far as I got ! right before the good bit I ran out of steam hehe, but from the nonsense of my outline I'd planned for a lot of gentle frotting with an emphasis on Leon's wounds being agitated (but it's fine because he's a bit into it) knowing me it probably would've ended with a mid-day nap since that's what I tend to default to

I have one other wip I wanna post and I'll add it in a reblog of this post !

[ask-the-royal-absol]

*Felix, using his ghostly abilities, turned invisible. He didn’t want to squish in with the both of them. Though he could see Destino’s parents coming down through the tunnel. He had to warn Destino and Hope quietly. Phasing through the wardrobe, he whispered to the both of them.*

Felix: I can see they’re comin’ down now. Ya both better keep quiet if ya wanna sneak up.

*that silenced their squabbling. Felix kept outside of the wardrobe, being lookout to see when the King and Queen had left. They came through the entrance of the tunnel, looking rather confused and angry at each other.*

King Nox: Oh I’m sorry. I forgot how perfect you are and how you could never make a simple mistake like this. Karma, you were behind me when we went up.

Queen Karma: Nox, you know I would never leave this unlocked. We wouldn’t want Destino to find out about this before they need to.

King Nox: You’re going to tell them anyway! At this point, I’m surprised they haven’t discovered it yet!

Queen Karma: How would they possibly be able to?! They know what happens if they enter our room without my permission.

King Nox: Oh I don’t know! Maybe Princess Hope who’s down in our dungeon at this very second would tell Destino everything!

Queen Karma: Oh, I guarantee she wouldn’t.

*the conversation fades as the two leave the room. Felix heard muffled conversations through the wooden door. They got quieter and quieter. Now would be the perfect opportunity.*

Hope: I didn’t like being in there with you either, you know. It’s not exactly fun having someone pushing you away.

Destino: That’s why you should have made room for me. Come on Hope. I’m the chosen one. I’m kinda important here. You’ve gotta make accommodations for me.

*Hope could feel herself getting frustrated. Soon she would be rid of them. Delivered to the guardian. And then she wouldn’t have to see their stupid face again. Luckily, Destino’s parents kept the door for the tunnel opened. Considering the noise it made when it did open, the three of them probably would have been caught. She began walking past the entrance of the tunnel. Felix started to float behind. Destino was going to head up too but could hear their parents quiet voices through the bedroom door. They secretly hoped Roy and Hershel would be ok dealing with the King and Queen.*

*And so it was time to head up. The first thing Destino noticed was the storage area before walking into the tunnel with a few crates and barrels in. It must be where they kept items that they had brought from the surface. As much as Destino was curious as to what was inside of them, they had to keep moving. They could see Hope and Felix continuing on. Quickly, they moved past Hope to take the lead. It was quite interesting noticing all of the crystals that had lined the walls. Destino wasn’t sure what they were but they knew they were similar to the ones the majority of the furniture inside of their home was made from.*

*Destino, Felix and Hope are available for 5 asks as they make their way to the surface.*

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day One - Spring @sapphicmicrofics

April Daily Series - 717 words

**Series 5/5 of a continuous multi-ship story**

<<<Previous Series OR Beginning

The train station was busier than she expected for this time of day. It was too bloody early for normal people to be awake and yet here they were flooding Cardiff’s Central station. Ridiculous.

Marlene dug through her backpack until she felt the tangled cord of her earbuds. “Ah-ha! There she is.”

“Is everything feminine to you?” Regulus asked. His head was tilted slightly toward James to accommodate headphones they shared. The cord was still wrapped around Regulus’s neck while James listened intently to the song that Regulus played for him.

“Only things I value,” she replied, grinning wickedly at him.

Regulus rolled his eyes, as seemed to be his habit. The bloke was certainly a different breed from his brother. Their similarities were entirely skin deep, but it startled her to see the same features that she associated with general merriment contort into a glare or bored apathy so often.

Except for the similarly adoring expressions the brothers turned on James. It was impressive how thoroughly he’d charmed both of them. Not that Marlene was surprised. She’d watched James charm nearly everyone he’d ever met rather quickly.

They were complements in many ways. Where James was bold and confident, Marlene was bold and brash. Where James was eager and determined, Marlene was eager and hungry. They were different branches springing from the same tree and worked well together. Which was why they were old childhood friends and current hockey teammates.

Sirius prodded her hip. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Edinburgh with me? Those two will be all over each other the entire time. Last chance.”

“As if you and Remus will be any better?” Regulus snarked. “You’re like dogs in heat.”

Sirius flipped him off. Before he could retaliate, James stuck the headphones back onto Regulus’s ears and distracted him with a quick kiss. It was becoming a common interaction between the brothers. Sirius loved winding Regulus up and Regulus enjoyed lashing out.

Marlene shrugged. “I’m due a holiday anyway and Pandora insisted that she and Lily needed help rearranging things at the London flat. Who am I to tell a pair of pretty women ‘no?’”

“Fair,” James agreed. He then swatted Regulus’s boot away from Sirius’s shin with a sigh. When his feral boyfriend grumbled a threat, James picked him up and promptly settled him into his lap. “Both of you, behave.”

Sirius smirked at Regulus, but his brother was entirely unbothered now that he was comfortably snuggled into James’s chest. It was probably best that Sirius wasn’t joining them on the train to London. Marlene was just about sick of the bickering.

“Can you not?” she said, budging Sirius’s shoulder.

“We have lost time to make up for, Marls.”

“Which you want to spend quarreling?”

He flashed a bright grin at her, then draped an arm over her shoulders. “It’s what siblings do. You know how it is.”

She definitely did. Her three brothers were constantly scrapping with each other or poking fun at her when she lived at home. It was just as irritating.

“James is being entirely too nice about it. I’d have knocked you about by now.”

Sirius laughed, loud and sharp. “Nonsense. Our rows give him an excuse to ‘rescue’ Reggie. He loves it.”

Marlene glanced back at James to find him smiling fondly at Regulus while he stroked his back to soothe him. He always was the righteous peacemaker type. It sort of tracked that he’d take advantage of the chaos to play hero.

“Utter twats.”

“You should be used to it by now,” Sirius said, leaning his head against hers. “Honestly, Marls. I think you’re jealous.”

She stared at him incredulously. “Of who?”

“Regulus.”

“What? Why?”

Sirius nodded at his brother again. “Didn’t you have that in London? The calm to your chaos?”

Marlene immediately dropped her gaze to her backpack and toyed with a loose thread. She couldn’t think about that right now. Walking away was the worst decision that she didn’t make.

Dorcas was right, of course. Long-distance was shite and they were never “just friends.” It was entirely logical to end things cleanly when they did, and also complete bullshite.

“Are you going to look her up?” he persisted.

“London is a big city and I doubt she’d want me to.”

Next Part>>>

[ifidiedinadream]

Since requests are open, how about a «we’re platonic and we agreed to sharing a room, but there’s only one bed and things are a bit awkward» with aleksi x reader? Feel free to end it on a smutty note 👀

here it is, my masterpiece 😂😂

i kinda lost control of it i hope you like it anyway

also on ao3

You didn’t think much of it when you were making plans to see Bring Me The Horizon earlier that spring, when none of your other friends seemed like they could make it to the show. You didn’t think much of it when you traveled to the foreign city together, or while you were in line to enter the festival.

But when Follow You starts playing, the gravity of the situation dawns upon you at once.

Maybe it’s because live music intensifies emotions. Maybe it’s the suggestive light show, or the way Oli sings it differently than the other songs, all huddled up on one side of the stage, in a way that seems very raw and intimate.

Maybe it’s because the crowd forces Aleksi and you to stand closer than you’ve ever been. Maybe it’s how you keep glancing at him instead of the big screen showing the band, the lyrics drawing you to the man next to you, making you long for a touch.

Maybe sensing vicinity, maybe out of fear of losing you in the crowd, Aleksi snakes an arm around your waist. He’s already looking at you when you turn to him.

‘Cause I’m telling you

You’re all I need

I promise you

You’re all I see

Everything happens quickly. Aleksi is kissing you and you’re high on the kiss and the music. You catch his lips again when he makes to part, and he snorts and you giggle, but then he’s deepening the kiss with tongue and your body is melting, dissolving into the music all around you and inside you. Just you, Aleksi’s kiss, his hands on your waist, a heightened sensitivity to every little touch. There might be thousands of people in this field with you, but it’s actually just him and you. It’s better than a dream; it’s how it was supposed to be all along.

I will follow you

I will follow you

Aleksi’s touch leaves your side a few songs later. You don’t kiss again, and after a while it’s like nothing ever happened. You focus on the music, singing along, screaming, headbanging, watching the spectacular show the band is playing. Aleksi is having just as much fun beside you. You don’t have a care in the world and the show is cathartic.

However, all good things must come to an end. When the show is over, the adrenaline slowly makes room for embarrassment, and your head fills up with thoughts of the what if type. The ones that make you go silent.

Aleksi doesn’t look any better. Normally, you wouldn’t hesitate holding hands to avoid losing each other in the crowd on your way out of the venue, but now neither is reaching their hand out to the other.

Getting to the car is a nightmare, as it always is after festival nights. You and Aleksi manage to never lose sight of each other, even if you’re somewhere else entirely now with your thoughts – or not entirely, just a few kilometers back, in the middle of the pit of the Bring Me The Horizon show, passionately making out with your friend and happier than you’ve ever been.

Do I like him like that?

You get in the car, in the passenger’s seat. Outside the window, exhausted yet happy emos are wandering the parking lot. Many of them are wearing the black and blue t-shirt.

“Fuck.”

The car doesn’t start. Aleksi turns the key again and again, but you have too much on your plate now to even get alarmed.

“Should we call someone?”

Aleksi runs a hand through his hair. He’s good-looking, that’s for sure. His side profile especially.

“Helsinki is hours away. It’s way too late.”

Aleksi tries starting the car one more time. It fails.

“Let’s get a room nearby. We’re exhausted. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Aleksi hastily takes the key out of its place under the steering wheel. He’s biting the side of his cheek.

“Okay.”

You leave the car. You’re browsing the app for accommodation and hotels on your phone, and while there seem to be a couple of places near at hand, they’re either fully booked or ridiculously expensive – as it was to expect on a festival day. Aleksi is behind you, looking at your phone over your shoulder.

“Or maybe we could get an Uber…” he says.     

You keep searching.

“Uber doesn’t serve this area. Car sharing isn’t doable either, and the last train to Helsinki departed an hour ago.”

I almost sound like I don’t want to go home.

“Hey, look at this!”

There’s a hotel with an available room, and it’s fifteen minutes on foot from the parking lot. The price is fair. You look for feedback in Aleksi’s tired eyes.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.”

Relieved after finally settling on a solution, you book the room and switch apps to Maps.

Fifteen minutes feel like two hours on your swollen, aching feet (and the exhaustion is a perfect excuse for not talking at all, although your mind goes a hundred kilometers an hour for the whole duration of the walk), but once you’re there, you can’t help but sigh in relief. Aleksi resists the urge to throw himself on one of the chairs in the lobby, following you to the reception desk. You proceed with check-in.

“The room you booked is the only one we have left for tonight, but it has only one bed. Is it still okay?”

“One bed as in, one double-bed?”

“It’s actually a queen-sized bed.”

Aleksi’s eyes widen, and you’re pretty sure you match his expression. He turns to you  and you look at him back. You’re waiting for him to decide. However, his questioning look suggests he’s waiting for you to decide.

“It’s okay, yeah,” you say, but it’s mostly because the silence is making you nervous.

You finish up the bureaucracy-related stuff. The receptionist gives you the key to the room and wishes you a nice stay. You hope you’ll be too tired to even think of the current situation once your body so much as touches the mattress.

You enter the room. The bed is smaller than you thought.

“So, uhm,” Aleksi starts, “I can sleep on the chair if you –”

“Don’t be silly. Why would you sleep on the chair?”

“It’s a bit…”

“Awkward?”

“Awkward, yeah.” Aleksi scratches the back of his neck. “Also, there is no air conditioning and I kind of sleep naked, not that I have nightwear with me to change into, anyway.”

Neither do you.

“I see.”

“I’m used to sleeping in bunk beds. A chair for a night won’t be a problem.”

You feel sorry though. That chair looks everything but comfortable.

Aleksi excuses himself to the bathroom. You take your clothes off, they’re too dirty and sleeping in them would be gross. When Aleksi comes back, he’s only in his underwear just like you are.

Heat rushes to your face. Suddenly the parquet floor is extremely interesting. Aleksi turns around, rummaging in his bag he put on the desk.

Is it wrong to want that body close to mine?

It’s your turn to use the bathroom, so you go and wash your face, hoping it’ll help relieve whatever it is that’s going on in your head and body. It doesn’t do much.

When you come back, Aleksi is sitting on the chair, legs in a position that truly can’t be comfortable, even by his standards. He’s on his phone, a cable connecting it to the socket under the desk.

“There’s no way you can sleep like that.”

Aleksi shrugs, eyes never leaving the screen. “I’ve seen worse.”

You walk over to him, put a hand on his knee to get his attention. There’s a blush on his cheeks.

“Hey. You can sleep in the bed with me. It’s not a problem for me, if it’s not a problem for you.”

Aleksi puts his phone down, looking at you intently. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Aleksi lets out a sigh and gets up. You put your phone to charge and go to bed. Aleksi waits until you’re comfortable to join you. You turn the light out before you can get used to the sight of Aleksi lying next to you.

“Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

You’re lying on the very edge of the bed, and since your body isn’t touching Aleksi’s at all, you figure he’s doing the same. It isn’t comfortable; it feels like you could fall at any second.

You take courage and lie properly. Aleksi scoots even farther.

“You don’t… have to risk falling off the bed,” you say into the darkness. You hope it doesn’t come across as eagerness, but as worry for him. Right now you’re not even sure which one is prevalent.

Aleksi waits a second, then finds a more comfortable position. You smile to yourself. Your shoulders are touching, and you feel his calf with your foot. It’s so little, yet it makes your heart race, and the funny feeling in your chest prompts you to reach your hand and grab his own, lying inert in between your bodies. Your heart is beating even faster, especially since Aleksi doesn’t seem to react at first; maybe he’s scared, maybe he’s already sleeping – but then he holds your hand back, caressing its back with his thumb.

You want more. You need more.

That hand, you slowly bring it to the center of your chest. This way, Aleksi will know what effect he has on you. This way, maybe he’ll realize it is what he wants too.

Aleksi lifts his head, props up on his elbow to look down at your face. The glint in his eyes is visible in the dark; his labored breathing tickles your chin. It feels like an eternity, but one of the beautiful kind – an eternity you want to experience, live to the fullest, one that will gift you with precious, soft, gentle times. One you waited all your life for.  

Just like that, Aleksi kisses you. You’re quick to grab the back of his head, so he doesn’t pull away if he suddenly realizes what’s going on. Your other hand finds his side, and you pull him closer to you, wishing that he’d get on top of you already. He’s holding your waist and his touch is so warm.

“Wait – wait.”

You go after Aleksi’s lips. You don’t want to wait.

He breaks the small kiss that follows. “What is this?”

“I don’t know,” you say, honest. “Just… want you.”

Aleksi’s breath hitches. He rolls on his stomach, half of his body weight on you; his leg is between yours, and it’s enough for you to feel him where your hip and our thigh meet. It’s only semi-hard but your head is already spinning.  

“Say it again.”

Aleksi buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses there. It makes you breathe deeply.

“I want you.”

His kiss travels down to your collarbone and chest. You arch your back when his hands go underneath, searching for the clasp of your bra.

“How do you want me?” he asks softly, tossing the bra on the floor. His fingers find one of your nipples and stroke it lightly. You gasp, throw your head back. He mouths at your jaw.

“Inside me.”

He wraps his lips around the nipple he isn’t caressing, The touch alone sends electricity down your core. You sink your hand in his curls to hold him close, rubbing your legs together before opening them, the pleasure making it hard for you to breathe.

“And… do you want me tonight only?”

Aleksi is looking at you, his fingers toying with the nipple he just sucked, the touch slick and extra pleasurable because of the spit. You clench around nothing.  

“No. Want you every day.”

Aleksi takes your panties off, then does the same with his boxer briefs. He spits in his hand and it disappears between your bodies. 

“Say it one more time.”

“I want you. I want you so much.”

Aleksi slowly shoves himself inside you. You’re so wet he doesn’t find much resistance, but still his movements are gentle and controlled to make sure he isn’t hurting you. Your bodies are flushed together, chest to chest, his face just next to your ear. You hold him close and wrap your legs around his lower back. You’re ready.

Aleksi lifts his head to look at you. He’s breathing through his mouth, curls falling in front of his forehead messily. You can barely make out his gaze in the dark, but you feel it on your eyes and on your mouth, hazy and heavy lidded. It’s hard to think of anything else than his cock inside you. It’s heaven. It’s completeness.

“I want you too,” Aleksi whispers in your ear, starting to gently roll his hips. “Every day. I want you every day.”

His thrusts are long and deep, slow enough for you to feel every centimeter of him; the pleasure builds up gradually, and his soft grunts are music accompanying the crescendo.

Your grip around his shoulders tightens, your nails digging into his skin when Aleksi loses some of his control and goes faster. You moan into his ear, the fullness dulling out your every sense, sending you into a pink fluffy cloud where everything is perfect and the promise of release is as enticing as ever. The sweat glues your bodies together and it feels like they were always meant to lie together like this, to move in sync, like they’re two parts of one, whole, much bigger thing.

You’re close. You scratch Aleksi’s back, moans growing louder, his name escaping your lips, urging him to give you all of him; and he does. The last few strokes are intense, yet not less delicate than the rest of this beautiful love-making. They make you feel adored and cared for and they tip you over the edge. The pleasure explodes throughout your body, everything between your head and toes overwhelmed by an electricity that makes you feel more than alive. Your body squirms and writhes, your throat vibrates, and Aleksi caresses you through it, looking down at you with tender yet dark eyes.

He lets you finish, lets your body relax and release all the oxytocin in the world, and then goes back to making love to you, and this time it feels a little more desperate. He’s breathless and sweaty and he looks like the personification of beauty and sex.

He pulls out just a moment before the orgasm: he strokes himself furiously, his gaze lingering on your face and body, his lip between his teeth, and then comes all over your tummy with a roll of his eyes and a broken moan. You watch his seed pool in your belly button, his brow furrowed as he looks down, his bottom lip sticking out and glistening with spit.

He stays like that, eyes fluttering open and then closed again, until he’s caught his breath. He leaves a peck to your lips before getting up to look for something in his bag.

He comes back with some tissues. He gently wipes at your tummy. It’s almost like caresses.

The exhaustion from the trip, the gig, the stress about the hotel room catches up to you and you almost drift off to sleep when you no longer feel Aleksi’s touch on you. His low voice draws your attention again.

“Did you mean it? That you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing? I know it’s late and everything but I… I need to know.”

You snuggle up to him, resting your head and hand on his chest. It feels safe to do so.

“You like me is what you’re trying to say?”

Aleksi’s chest rises then falls. “I guess. Yes.”

You sit up, giving him one last, long kiss and you fill it with all the passion you have inside.

“I did. I meant it.”  

[five-rivers]

Fractal

This is set in the Mortified-verse

.

Patterns repeated themselves.  That is why they were called patterns.  Two things derived from the same source tended to share similarities, though the method of derivation might be totally different. So it must be with shadows and Phantoms, one group cast, the other, copied. 

Yes, technically speaking the lair, Refuge, which the shadows were part of belonged equally to all seven Phantoms, but Danny had existed the longest, had been awake the longest, had the most memories, not counting a certain someone who was ignoring the lair with an intensity that could likely make plants wilt.  

(Danny, when he thought about Dan and Refuge in the same moment, thought about the fate of Harmony in that timeline.  Had it survived, unknown to Dan, or–?)

The personalities of the other Phantoms were starting to come through, most obviously in the creation of Replica, who was more Ellie's shadow than Danny's, but, to an outside observer, those changes were small, and could easily be dismissed as Danny wanting to accommodate his siblings. Fractal was not an outside observer.  He could cite exactly who was influencing what at any given time.  

All that to say Fractal was definitely a creation of Danny’s, a facet of his needs.  He had been made, largely, to act as a non-threatening interface between the lair and any visitors.  

All this to say that, despite the above facts, Fractal felt that he and Dmitri had a lot in common.  

They were both somewhat more bookish than Danny presented himself, they were both shy, they were both in a position that required them to interact frequently with others, anyway, they both had eye issues, and they both were on the verge of developing an enmity with the current organizational system of Refuge's library.

Before the shadows were made, the lair had sorted books, and other objects, autonomously. That was not to say the sorting wasn't still autonomous.  The shadows were part of Refuge, no matter how easy it was for outsiders to forget that.  Sending a shadow to move things was, however, a different process than the one it had employed before.  

It was easier, but, with shadows also being called to do other things so frequently, it also took longer.  Thus, the library was arranged in the same way it had been since Danny first became aware of it.  By color.  

This was a terrible way to arrange anything except, perhaps, art supplies.  Fractal, who had been assigned most of Refuge's sorting problems, hadn't gotten the chance to deal with it yet.  

He had been watching Dmitri flit up and down the rows of bookshelves for about five seconds.  He’d been aware of his frustration for much longer.  

Steeling himself, Fractal stepped forward–

Right onto the hem of his pants–

Causing him to, once again, plant his face on the floor.  It was even the same place!  Was there something about this one particular aisle?  This bookshelf?  The act of stepping out into the open?  Was he cursed or something?  When would he have been cursed?  How?  Why?  Who?

“Um,” said Dmitri.  “Are you alright?”

“Yes!” said Fractal.  He sat up.  “Yes.  I am fine.  Are you fine?”

“Yes?” squeaked Dmitri, floating far above Fractal.  

“Do you need help finding anything?” pressed Fractal, tapping his fingers together.  “Perhaps a book?”

Wisps had started to come down out of the leafy trees that grew from the tops of the bookshelves…  Or, from another perspective, the trees whose trunks the bookshelves were carved from.  They liked it here, but ever since the wisps as a group had gotten scolded for making Danny incredibly high, they were a little wary of getting close.  Which was too bad, really, but in ghost form Dmitri was almost the same size as them, so it was maybe just a bit…  

Fractal wouldn’t call it funny, but he was quite sure most of the other Phantoms would.  Either that or cute.

Dmitri glared at them, making them chime sadly, and dropped lower.  

“I’m trying to find books about places,” he mumbled.  “About countries and cities and things.”

“Ah,” said Fractal.  “We do have several like that.”

“But I can’t find them.  I can’t figure out what the order of this is!”  He waved a tiny hand at the shelves. 

“There really isn’t one, I’m afraid,” said Fractal, folding his hands in front of him.  “They’re arranged by color.”

“Oh, no,” groaned Dmitri.  “By color?”

“I can help you find them, though.  May I ask what this is for?”

“Don’t you know?” asked Dmitri, tilting his head to one side.  

“I can guess,” said Fractal.  “But Refuge as a whole is still somewhat more aligned with Danny, and we’ll always be more in tune with subconscious needs than conscious desires.”

Dmitri fidgeted.  “Dad - Sojourn - said he wanted to take me on a trip once we’re done regularizing relations with the US, and that I should pick out the places to go, but I don’t know any places.”

Fractal, already cataloging the atlases and travelogs held in the library, nodded.  “You’ll mostly want places in the Realms, then,” he said.  “At least until we start reaching out to the other countries on Earth.”

“Yes,” said Dmitri.  “That would be good.

“Okay,” said Fractal.  “I think I’ve found a few books that will be useful to you.”  He started to walk away confidently, then remembered his earlier spill and changed his gait to something more cautious.  The first book wasn’t far away, and then the next one was…  and so many atlases were blue of some variety…

“Does it ever bother you?” asked Dmitri.  

“Does what bother me?” asked Fractal.  He slid another book from the shelf, and passed it off to a wisp that was trying to make itself useful.  

“That you can’t leave.  That you’re stuck here.”

“I can understand that it would bother you,” said Fractal, pausing, “but why would it bother me?”

“Because you’re not really just a shadow, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I picked some things up from Danny.  You’re based on us physically, too, which means you have a brain, so…  Doesn’t that make you a person, too?”

“Hm.  Maybe.  But even if I do have a brain, it’s function is to be an extension of yours.  And,” he added, “I have no intention of pursuing any individuality I might possess.  I am a portion of a pattern that is self-similar to the larger, more complete version.  That is all.”

“A fractal.”

“I did name myself.”  Fractal started walking again.  Atlases, atlases…

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t.  It doesn’t bother me.”  He smiled.  “After all, I get to travel with you.  Let’s find the rest of your books.”

[4am-enha]

plz tell me heeseung and yn get their happy ending :((

note: okayyyy, just for you <3 thank you for reading late summer lovin’! muah! xoxo

college was tough.

nobody ever really talked about how draining it could get- even after just a few semesters.

you felt lonely. so lonely.

the other students on campus weren’t very social, or open to making new friends, so it was hard for you. of course you had your roommate, but they were almost always out or at class when you were back at your shared room. your schedule just didn’t match up and there wasn’t much you could do to help that. you had tried clubs, events, gatherings, but still struggled to make a good friend.

feeling lonely made you think about your friends back home. you thought of them often, especially one of them. you commonly caught yourself reminiscing on the memories you had made throughout high school. how unforgettable the summer after graduation had been. you missed them all so dearly.

you strolled silently back towards your depressing looking accommodation with a heavy heart. the things you would do just to be with your old friends again. you needed them the most right now. you sighed.

simultaneously, your phone began to buzz aggressively in your pocket, snapping you out of your moping. it was jungwon. he hadn’t called in a while. immediately, you picked up.

you stared at the faces on the screen for a minute in disbelief. it was almost too coincidental for them to call while you were thinking of them. it was your friends, well some of them.

“hey guys what’s the occasion?” you giggled.

“we just wanted to call to let you know we sent you a gift,” jungwon smiled through the phone screen.

“yeah it’s a really special one y/n,” jake yelled from afar, slightly hidden behind jay.

“oh! but why?”

“it’s for your birthday, and because we miss you,” jay answered.

“just let us know when you get it okay?” jungwon flashed a small thumbs up and ended the call.

you looked at your phone with wide eyes for a moment, confused but pleasantly surprised your friends were eager to call you and send you a gift. they were so sweet for remembering your birthday was coming up. curiosity started to kill you. you needed to know what it was.

you rushed back to your accommodations mail room, hoping it’d be there. it wasn’t. guess you’d have to wait a little longer. that sucked.

once again, you headed back to your room, expecting your roommate to be out per usual routine. however, the lights were on. were they sick today or something?

you took out your keys and opened your room curiously, wondering what had happened for them to not be out- but you were met with another face. a face nobody could have forgotten.

“oh thank god i got the right room,” the boy you had missed so dearly, sighed in relief with a cheesy smile right in front of you.

“heeseung?” you stood in your spot frozen as if you’d seen a ghost. you were being delusional. there’s no way he could be here right now. right?

“hey y/n.”

you rushed over to him, clinging onto him as if you were to let go, he would disappear. tears fell without hesitation. you hated crying in front of others, but you didn’t care right now. you couldn’t control the loud sobs that left you.

heeseungs grip tightened around you. your face buried onto him. his strong cologne suffocating you. god you had missed it so much.

“well, that’s not the reaction i was expecting,” heeseung began, “happy early birthday y/n.”

“how did you get here? how long will you stay? please tell me you aren’t leaving yet,” you cried out dramatically.

“relax, we have time. we need to catch up anyway,” he ran his palm over the top and back of your head, comforting you. he smiled to himself. he had really missed you. he took in every second of holding you again.

“you really came to see me?” you sniffled.

“of course i did. i’ll come visit you whenever i can- i told you that! did you not believe me?” he chuckled lightly.

“i don’t know,” you shook your head.

heeseung held your face, forcing you to look at him,

“nothing could ever stop me seeing you, love.”

[nitewrighter]

Do you think that the other characters forget Efi is only 12 (I think). Like she and Torbjorn spend the day going over super complicated schematics (and she even corrects him once or twice) then she puts on Power Puff Girl pajamas, watches Bluey while eating ice cream before bed? Could we get some fanteractions between her and the others?

I don't know if I discussed it on twitter or on here, but actually in the novel The Hero of Numbani, one of the things I thought was a really cute little world-buildy touch about how Efi interacts with the world at her age is that she often finds herself in these adult spaces, and the adults around her are drinking coffee, and they're like "uhhhh here" and they keep giving her coffee that's like... 50% milk and loaded with sugar--like it's clear they didn't really expect a kid to be in this situation and they're awkwardly doing what they can to try and accommodate her, and she partially recognizes that and also pushes boundaries and feels this need to prove herself.

Also like, 12 isn't really a "powerpuff girl pajamas and Bluey" age, 12 is like.. the age where you semi-convince yourself that you could probably stop arterial bleeding with your little bare 12-year-old hands if the situation called for it. 12 is when you're in a fucked up simultaneous state of "World is big and scary and my body is starting to do things I did not give it permission to do and I'm not ready" and also "I'm Nancy Drew levels of hypercompetent and you can't stop me." Ideally, 12 is where you're starting to push your own boundaries more and more but you're also kind of struggling with the fact that you are outgrowing things you used to really care about. You aren't quite at that asshole stage of "expanding independence but with very little concept of consequences" yet, but it is an age where you are grasping more and more complex concepts. But also your brain is still struggling to really make a leap into abstract/symbolic thinking, which is why algebra really sucks at that age. But again, Efi is a super-genius so developmentally she's at an even crazier intersection of what she can and can't do compared to her peers.

I got off track. Anyway here's Efi interactions.

----

Sojourn: ...You um, you don't have to stand all the way over there. I don't bite.

Efi: *awkwardly shuffles toward her*

Sojourn: ...

Efi: ...

Sojourn: Soooo---?

Efi: *hoarse whisper* You're so much cooler than in the cartoons.

Sojourn: *snrk* I was this cool the whole time.

---

Sojourn: So, I guess I should say, there's really no pressure here. If you did choose to join us, you would just be here as a consultant, and--*deep breath* Okay, the thing is, with Liao gone, you're actually one of the leading minds in the world on AI learning systems, and the way things are with Null Sector, we need to be better at anticipating their next moves. I don't want to put that pressure on you, but given everything you and Orisa have done for Numbani, your willingness to work with Lúcio before, and the position we're currently in, we would be honored if we could get your perspective on certain pieces of intel we have now.

Efi: ...

Sojourn: I get it, it's a very scary situation, and if you just want to stay with your parents and the rest of the civilians, we'll still do everything in our power to keep you safe. Orisa is proving to be an incredible asset on her own. Really, Lúcio just remarked that you seemed very passionate about protecting your home, so if you would be interested in the chance to do that on a larger scale--

Efi: Do I have access to the armory?

Sojourn: Eh--?

Efi: Oh it's not for me, it's for Orisa.

Sojourn: Uhm...

Efi: :)

Sojourn: *clicks tongue* Um--You know what? I'm going to call your parents because there are about 90 more parameters in this situation I need to figure out.

Efi: Oh! They're fine with me having access to the armory.

Sojourn: Yeeahhh I think i'm going to ask them myself.

[blackjackkent]

Highlights from investigating the Reithwin morgue:

Like so many other places in Reithwin, it smells very badly of blood. Rakha is feeling exceedingly tense. She's not quite at breakdown level again yet but she's certainly feeling the strain of being around the remains of so much brutal death, mixed with the strain of all the mysteries around Moonrise and the strain of the continuing temptation to cut Isobel into component parts.

Lots of zombies wandering around. I'm not entirely clearly, in retrospect, on WHY there are so many zombies, except to provide combat fodder. I might be forgetting something obvious, but I'm assuming they were either corpses touched by the shadow curse in a weird way, or the result of Malus's experiments, or something Balthazar was doing down here. The impression I get from Malus's notes is that he was trying to be a necromancer too but wasn't as good at it as Balthazar.

Based on what Rakha sees of the laboratory deep in the bowels of the morgue, many of the people who died in Reithwin were subject to experimentation afterwards. Again, this resonates unpleasantly with the memory from the noblestalk of Rakha and Sceleritas working in some indeterminate lab cutting apart someone who was still alive. She hates the recollection - but also clings to it, in an odd way, because it means there are other memories somewhere, unreachable.

She is, however, utterly fascinated by the notebooks in another room, near the body of a dead Harper. One of the notebooks details the events immediately surrounding the curse's initial onset when Ketheric was initially defeated. The other is notes on magical experimentation:

Rakha definitely sits and stares at this book for a LONG time, reading it intently. (Perhaps Wyll goes and checks out the laboratory while she does so, since being there definitely makes her uncomfortable anyway.) This is very interesting to think about. For her, magic is simply something that happens naturally; she can instinctively determine the way the Weave needs to move and stretch to accommodate whatever she's trying to accomplish.

This is more like how Gale studies magic, she thinks. Learning, experimentation. Practice. A little like how she draws magic from Alfira's lute, finding right notes and chords that resonate into light.

She takes the book back to Gale later, curious if he can make anything out of the experimental spells the Harper was working on when he died. Gale can't - but does immediately try out Vita Cava just to see. Chaos ensues in camp afterwards.

I almost never remember to try out Speak with Dead on corpses; finally remembered in this case and got the message "Corpse Too Damaged." This always happens when I do manage to remember the spell exists. XD

Another of the notebooks in the lab ("Blood and Bodily Fluid Log", ewww), notes:

I just realized this is probably referencing the enormous behemoth-sized enemy that's hanging out in Balthazar's lab in the mausoleum. :O

Once again, big shoutout to Rakha's whole team now being loaded up with Misty Step, bc I'm pretty sure there's no other way to get to the Kuo-Toa fight besides Dimension Door or hurling everyone off a cliff for 50dmg apiece.

Unlike when Hector was here, Rakha has encountered Kuo-Toa before - they were the ones trying to summon "the great god BOOOAL" which the beast in Rakha's head did not like at ALL. Rakha, at the time, was pretty unnerved by her own instinctive and very destructive response to the fish-creatures' religion. For that reason, she might have made more of an effort to leave them alone here, as some kind of symbol to herself. However - they are all massively curse-soaked and consequently don't do her the same courtesy.

So she sets them all on fire instead.

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

Cross-posting This Gilded Weight! (The og post was being weird when i tried to edit it so this gets its own post lol) It's my drabble collection exploring snapshots of Vaggie's pre-canon development from her fall to the show pilot. This is the last of my already-posted works that I'm cross-posting over here, the rest will be new stuff. Hope y'all enjoy!

This Gilded Weight

This had to be a nightmare.

Nightmares don’t exist in Heaven, so this was a first, but this had to be one. Vaggie is (was?) an exterminator. Exterminators don’t have weaknesses and don’t show sympathy to dangerous, evil sinners.

At least it was unrealistic- she would never really fall. Her? Over a child’s soul? The idea was laughable. So Vaggie wasn’t stranded wingless on a random street in Hell, and she’d just wait this out. That’s how nightmares work, right?

She wiped tears and golden blood from her face.

No need to worry. She’s be fine once she woke up.

Vaggie drifted in and out of sleep. She couldn’t tell which was real and which was a dream.

In one world, she couldn’t stand and her eye wouldn’t work. But a beautiful woman was feeding her soup and saying soothing words. It… wasn’t awful.

In another world, the extermination was ongoing and she had to kill someone she cared for again and again. It’d always end with harsh words and horrible pain.

She didn’t know which half she should hope was real. In the one she was spending more and more time in, at least she hadn’t killed a child.

Vaggie felt the loss of her wings with every step.

Her back muscles were made to accommodate large wings which held a considerable amount of her body mass. Her steps were too light. On her lower back, the remaining muscle complained from lack of use. Even breathing was different on the ground.

Vaggie kept losing her balance. She’d nearly fall and try to flap wings that weren’t there. She hoped Charlie found it endearingly clumsy, not suspicious. And the phantom pain was horrible.

Hell wasn’t as bad as she’d thought, but she wished she’d been able to keep her wings.

It hadn’t occurred to Vaggie that Charlie didn’t instantly know she was an exorcist- she looked like one and was found near her armor, it wasn’t hard to tell. But by now… it was far too late.

Part of it was safety. Charlie was the princess of hell. Demons couldn’t hurt angels, but Vaggie was vulnerable enough that one could find a way. And if Lucifer found out his daughter befriended an exorcist?

She wasn’t ready to die yet.

More importantly… Charlie saw something good in Vaggie. She couldn’t let that disappear.

What Charlie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?

“Don’t worry,” Charlie kept saying at the next extermination. “They can’t go after us.“

A dark cloud of angels descended upon Hell. Ice filled Vaggie’s veins.

Longing pooled in her chest. She wanted to be with them. More accurately- she wanted things to be like before.

It didn’t matter. They’d never take her back.

She couldn’t look away.

Charlie’s arm settled across her shoulder. Soft hands ran through her hair.

“It’s ok to be scared.”

Vaggie rested her head on Charlie’s shoulder. Tarlike guilt filled her chest. Charlie would disappear if she knew the truth. She accepted the comfort anyway.

“… and we’ll have lessons and team exercises and-”

“Charlie,” Vaggie interrupted. “Sinners can’t be redeemed.”

“I have to do something! It’s not fair to just let them die.”

“It’s not,” Vaggie agreed. “But… everyone is here for a reason. People don’t change here.” 

“They might try if there was hope! Don’t you wish you went to heaven?”

“Heaven wouldn’t take me. Not after what I’ve done.” Not a lie, just… misleading.

“But-“

She squeezed Charlie’s hand. “Besides, I’d have to leave you.” Vaggie already regretted her next words. “But… if anyone could do this, it’s you. I’ve got your back. ”

In her time in hell, she’d only met one other fallen angel. She’d gotten a message on sinstagram asking to meet with her. They’d agreed to meet in an alley for privacy.

The other looked… different. Orange hair, scarlet feathers instead of grey.

She still had her wings.

“It’s so hard to find us,” the other had mentioned. “What type?”

“Exterminator.”

“Same.” Vaggie looked her up and down with suspicion, a familiar ache on her shoulders. “Hell changes you.”

“You got to keep your wings?”

“They took yours?“

Vaggie didn’t reach out again. Why remind herself of all she’d lost?

She missed heaven.

Of course she did. It was the best place in the universe. But on a more personal level… she missed heaven home.

She’d had a dove stuffed animal when she was a baby, named Mary. She kept it for years and lost it when she needed it most.

Where she first scraped her knee, the arena she used to spar in, where she’d met her first crush… just gone.

When she was bedridden, Vaggie had begun teaching herself how to draw. One day, her mental image of Heaven wouldn’t be so clear. She’d need something besides memories.

Friendships are a strange thing in Hell. Trust is scarce. Once you have it, the friendship stays.

“I hear the radio demon’s back,” a friend mentioned over coffee. “After seven years!”

Vaggie looked over her shoulder just in case. “Heard where?”

“Just rumors right now.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

There was a shift in the atmosphere. The look on their face was deadly serious as they forewarned, “If you ever meet him, don’t trust him, don’t give him an inch, and never make a deal.”

In hell, you listen to warnings the first time.

”I won’t,” Vaggie promised.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Angel Dust held up the pig. “Fat nuggets stays, or I go.”

Charlie looking at Vaggie the way that made her resolve disappear. “Look at that little face!”

“We can’t keep a pig in our hotel.”

“He’s well-behaved?”

“Alright, he can stay!” Charlie decided.

This was unsustainable. Vaggie knew how important this was to Charlie, but where was the line? Couldn’t this effort go towards finding residents who would try?

But… Charlie looked so proud as Angel Dust entered his room. This wouldn’t work, but if it made Charlie happy, she’d put everything into it anyway.